Alone

by Holly Hook

  He's holding something brown and blue in his jaws. It's a squirrel, freshly dead. The red stripe on its back shines in the sun.

  “Pit!” I say. He drops the squirrel at my feet and looks up at me. His eyes shine with joy. We're both going to eat this morning.

  Pit sniffs at the yellow flesh of the centipede and digs in. He can eat it after all.

  I take the squirrel by the tail and take it back to the entrance of the cave. Now that I know the centipede isn't going to bother us again, I can sit down and eat. My head swims and I need to get something in me before I even try to walk again. There's no way I want to stay here even one more night. That centipede might have friends that come out of the ground when the sun goes down. Friends who want revenge.

  I have to spear the squirrel.

  It's limp. Pit appears to have bitten it right on the head, crushing its skull. I'm glad it was fast, at least. The squirrel didn't have to suffer. I take a stick and ram it all the way through the squirrel. I try not to get sick, but I can't help but lean over and vomit a little on the grass. At least I'm going to eat now and it won't matter.

  I sway.

  Stagger.

  The malnutrition is getting to me. So is the thirst. I have to keep going. I have to cook this and get it down before we can leave. I won't be able to go much farther. The food I've eaten hasn't been enough, especially with all the walking I've done.

  I use the orange rock to get the fire going again. I add more sticks and sit down, rubbing my pounding head. When I eat, I'll feel better. I know I will.

  Cooking the squirrel takes longer than cooking the fish. I sit there for what feels like an hour, holding it over the fire, but not close enough to make its fur catch. After a while, I smell something that almost reminds me of pork. I take my small meal and set it down on the inside of the cave.

  Let's see how this centipede jaw cuts.

  Well, I find.

  Very well.

  I take the skin off the cooked squirrel and get it aside in no time. The pincher is like a knife. Better, in fact. I have to keep it. It's so much better than that piece of flint. I check the meat one more time to make sure it's cooked. All clear.

  The meat isn't too bad. I wolf it down and watch outside the cave for Pit to return. He does. Pit's mouth is green around the edges. He's been eating on the centipede and he looks very happy.

  “You and me,” I say, “Are going to work very well together.”

  He yips.

  Maybe he's just glad to be alive like I am, but I can't help but wonder if there's a real friendship growing here. If it wasn't for Pit, I might not have made it through the night last night. He wouldn't have woken me up and that centipede would have been on me before I had the chance to move.

  And then I hug him.

  Pit sits and lets me wrap my arms around him. I have someone here. He might not be human, but that's okay. If we work together, we just might make it.

  “Come on,” I say, dropping the finished squirrel on the ground. I consider taking the skin with me, but decide against it. What's the use, other than the red stripe looking pretty? But I will take that centipede pincher. I tuck it into the back pocket of my backpack and we take off again.

  * * * * *

  Thankfully, we come across a narrow stream only half an hour after we leave the cave.

  I stop and drink, and so does Pit. The water's still clean. Fresh. I'd still kill to have a water bottle.

  The forest thins later on in the day and the terrain climbs higher and higher. The giant trees get further apart and rocks begin to poke out of the ground again. Pit and I are emerging from the forest. We're headed back up into another mountainous area. An occasional cave opens before us, but nothing comes out. It's too bright here for Dwellers to do anything. Maybe this is where the centipede came down from. These entrances to the underground are big enough to have let it out. I can't help but check behind me every few hundred feet or so to make sure one of them isn't coming back. Every time I blink, it's there. Those wiggling legs. Those green bands. Those jaws.

  Pit bounds beside me, magenta spots bright and shiny in the sun. It's getting hot again, even hotter than it was on my first day here.

  There's one last giant tree, spreading over us as if it's telling us goodbye. Beyond it, it's low shrubs, more burnberries, and stone rising towards the sky. More cliffs, very distant ones, rise over it all. We might get to those cliffs by tomorrow, if the distances I've walked tell me anything about this place. I try to see over the rolling hills ahead to see what lies between this and the cliffs, but it's no use.

  Pit stops. Stiffens.

  He turns and looks behind us, back at the forest that we're leaving.

  I turn and follow his gaze.

  And curse.

  There's a man on top of a giant tree, hanging onto one of the branches. I can't make out who he is in the sun. He's far away, about half a mile, maybe. But he stares and stares. There's no wave. No gesture that someone friendly would give us.

  Is this the same man on the cliff from the other day? Mr. Larconi himself? Or someone working with him?

  It is, I decide.

  Pit stares at the man and whimpers. Bad sign.

  It's a sound of fear. The same sound he made when the giant centipede was coming.

  “Pit,” I say. I pat him on the back. “Time to go.”

  I turn and start to run. My axe swings in my grip and I cradle it with both hands to avoid cutting myself. I have to get out of here. Maybe the Flamestone Society saw the glow from my fire after all and they've figured out what direction I've gone in. That must be it. They saw the smoke rising from my cave and they're climbing trees in order to spot me. It makes sense.

  The land's getting more open up ahead. Pit leads me forward, into higher and higher ground. The boulders get bigger. I look back to see that the man has vanished from the top of the forest canopy. He's climbing down and soon, he'll be after me all over again. We need to change direction. Get behind some rocks, or something.

  “Pit,” I say.

  We can't be too loud now. Pit looks at me.

  "Do you know that guy?” I ask, pointing in that direction. I know it's dumb to ask, but he seems to get it.

  Pit looks and back at me. He whimpers again. Don't let him get me.

  “I won't,” I say. I have the axe. That might not mean anything. The man could have a gun, especially if he came from the regular world.

  And Pit's leading me farther away from him, not towards. He must know where he's going. I have to trust him.

  There's a path of flattened soil running between the boulders and further into the mountainous territory. It almost looks trampled by countless human feet. It could be an animal trail, but it's the first sign of other people I've seen since leaving the cave. There are others here. Others that Pit trusts and doesn't fear. That man back there isn't one of them.

  My sides burn and my knee aches out in pain. My shoes feel worn on the bottom. My legs burn. The land grows higher and I struggle uphill on the trail. Pit climbs to the top of the hill and waits. He grabs at my sleeve with his teeth and helps me up. “Thanks,” I say, standing and looking down at what we've left.

  We've climbed uphill for about a mile. I look down at the canopy of the forest now. It's amazing. It looks like an emerald plain of leaves. The man's gone. He must be back on the ground, coming after us. He might be keeping his distance, and I want to keep it that way.

  “Let's go,” I say.

  Pit whimpers and tugs at my pant leg. He's desperate to get out of here. That's bad. What if he knows this man? He seems to be used to people, unlike that other rabbit-dog by the river. Maybe that man was even the one who left him in that hole. Pit doesn't seem stupid enough to have done that on his own.

  It makes me hate our pursuer even more.

  It's late in the day now. Where do we stop for the night? We walk and the worry closes in. The man's after us. That rules out any fires. I search around the area for any caves. Even
those are gone now. It's all solid rock out here. The orange stones in my backpack bounce as I move. The man might try to kill us both. I might have to kill him. The axe grows heavy in my hand.

  There seems to be one more rocky hill. The cliffs rise over it in the distance. There could be anything on the other side of this hill, another valley or something. Pit climbs to the top of it and stands there, waiting for me.

  I reach him.

  The land spreads out below. We've arrived at another valley, one that's green and grassy and perfect. Another river runs through the edge of it, flowing from a waterfall that cascades down the cliffs. The place is magical and I want to dive into it. There's flowers. Even large grazing creatures that could be some kind of cows for all I know. It's like a little haven from the rest of the brutal world outside. If only the man wasn't coming up half a mile behind me, I'd stand here and admire it. It looks safe, like some end to my journey.

  Pit nudges me closer to the edge of the hill.

  Then I see.

  In the distance, butting up against the cliffs, there are dozens of small boxes huddled together inside a border that might be a tall wooden fence.

  Are those...cabins?

  Pit nudges me again. Closer, he says. It's good over there. Then he looks behind me and growls. Bad back there.

  “Are those people?” I ask. I don't see any movement here, but we're too far away.

  Pit yips again. And bounds forward.

  Yes.

  Chapter Nine

  Home Stretch

  I start jogging down the hill after him.

  The place could be empty. The settlement down there in the valley could just be some ghost village for all I know. Maybe that centipede broke into it and ate everyone there and all I'll find is a pile of skeletons. Or it could have been raided by the Dwellers and everyone inside taken away. I could go in there and the man could catch up with me and stab me in the back. The people in there could be members of the Flamestone Society, but Pit's leading me towards them. He isn't stupid. I'm going to trust him because I have no other options. He hasn't failed me so far.

  We're going downhill now and the rocks and boulders get big again. The start of the valley's a couple miles away and the village is a couple of miles beyond that. I wonder if anyone there can see me coming. Maybe. They could impale me with arrows as soon as I get there.

  It's evening. The sun's low and red. The shadows, long.

  I don't have long to get there. There might or might not be another centipede thing out here at night. I'll lower the axe when I get closer to the settlement. Otherwise, I'm going to make a bad impression.

  I look behind me as I descend the trail, the trail that might have been made by other people after all. Steven might even be here. This can't be the Flamestone Society. My pursuers come from underground—right? They have the Dwellers to take them back and forth. They don't need to stay in rustic cabins made from chopped down trees.

  Pit gets behind me and pushes.

  I check behind us and see why.

  Our pursuer has made it to the top of the hill.

  “Hurry,” I mutter. He's a dark shape in the dying sun. “Hurry.” My legs tremble and I’m weak from all the travel. He might not be. I glance again to see if he's holding a gun. I can't tell. He's too far away to shoot us and there's just no way to see.

  Keep going.

  The settlement looks very far away now. My sides burn as I race down the trail, struggling not to trip. The weight of the stone in my backpack pushes me forward, urging me to hurry. A lone snake slithers out of the way, its red stripes shining in the dying light. Keep going. I'm almost there. I might almost be to help.

  Pit whimpers a warning.

  And then I stop.

  There's a steep drop off ahead. The land slopes down and ends right in jagged rocks. The trail makes an abrupt turn and rocks tumble off the cliff and down into death. I’m dizzy.

  I back away from the cliff, afraid the man behind me is going to come up and try to shove me off. I’ll never tell anyone about the Flamestone Society if I hit the bottom. I move away from the huge Dweller trap and search for the trail again. It's getting harder to see in the dying light. The trail turns to the left and I follow, keeping Pit by my side. He gets between me and the drop off and we run again. He’s protecting me. I can't stop. I have to navigate around these traps. There might be more. I'm smart enough. These are designed to trip up Dwellers.

  The ground slopes downward again and we're heading down a safe hill that looks even more traveled than before. The trail here is dusty, dirty like it's seen thousands of feet. I spot the skeleton of something that might be a cow. Its skull stares at me. Did people kill it or did the centipede kill it? We're not that far from the giant tree forest.

  The sun's gone. There's only a red glow on the horizon. I look back. The man is running down the hill now, running through the place we left just a few minutes ago. He's catching up. He’s close enough to shout at me and maybe have me hear him. I consider dropping my backpack and my stash of the orange stone. No. It's my lifeline out here. I can't leave it.

  But I can't stop and make a fire, either.

  Almost there. Almost to the entrance to the valley.

  Inside the settlement, a fire blazes to life and I catch the glimpse of the side of a cabin. There are people there. They're lighting fires. And then something else goes up, a ball of flame right above the wooden wall. And another. They're turning on the lights for the night, doing their best to keep any Dwellers back. I have to get there. If they can let me inside the gates, I might make it through tonight.

  I can't stop.

  The first stars come out overhead and the pair of moons is low on the horizon. They give off a reddish glow in the evening light like they're bloody. This is my final chance. There is nowhere to hide in the valley. No shelter. I'll be finishing the last of my journey in the dark.

  And then I hear the worst possible sound.

  Skittering.

  It rises up from behind me, from where the man is. Yes. He's definitely with the Flamestone Society. He's here to take me away at best and kill me at worst. I'm close to the bottom of the hill. There's one final cliff. Pit gets in between me and the drop off, whimpering at me to hurry. I go around it. I need to tell these people to add guardrails. If I get to the village.

  The skittering grows louder. The man shouts something that I can't make out from here. He's not Larconi or Roger. He's younger and fit enough to chase after me. Larconi is too old.

  Go, Shawn says.

  The soft thunder of their feet gets louder. Pit is with me, but the Dwellers are so stupid they might not know to avoid him. I pull my phone out of my pocket. Turn it on.

  And get the low battery message.

  “Crap,” I manage. I have nothing to hold back the Dwellers with. They're going to catch me before I get close to the settlement. I haven’t even reached the valley yet. Pebbles slip under my feet as I go off the trail. Pit gets on one side and guides me back on. I get my footing. We’re in this together.

  Pit pushes me on.

  The noise grows louder.

  They must be on my heels.

  They are.

  I run through a sea of movement and little feet and pointy hats. The final light from my phone illuminates green and red and yellow and the noise turns to a roar. They're all around me. I stagger. They’re pulling at my pant legs. Slowing me down. The distant light of the settlement continues to burn and mock me. I'm so close. So close to possible help and now I'm never going to get there.

  “Let GO!” I scream, kicking.

  Two Dwellers fly. They squeal in terror and land on a nearby boulder with little cracking sounds. They go still. I don't dare look down. If I do, I'm done. They're pulling at my pant legs. Even Pit next to me struggles, snapping at the creatures and trying to turn. They grab as his fur, pulling him down.

  And then I fall.

  “No!” I yell. The creatures skitter all over me and I hold my eyes
closed. I can't open them. If I stay conscious, I can fight or maybe someone can come out from the village to help.

  But even then, it might take them a few minutes to get here.

  I flail and my hand finds grass. Little claws run across my skin and I want to scream with it. Pit yelps. They have him. They're going to kill him for eating their comrades, maybe. We're both at our end here.

  “Hold her down. Do not knock her out.”

  I dare to open my eyes, just for a second. The Dwellers grab onto my clothes now, keeping me pinned to the ground. None stare in my face, but what I find standing there, framed in beautiful stars and galaxies, is so much worse.

  The man standing over me has his hands on his hips like I'm in trouble and he's here to reprimand me. He's got a goatee and dark, sloppy hair that falls over his forehead.

  It's Garrett.

  My stepfather.

  Chapter Ten

  Choices

  “Garrett?” I manage. A spike of horror jabs through me. I don’t want to think about what this means. “Get me out of here. Help me up.”

  He steps closer.

  He's here. My stepfather has come after me.

  Has he been the one following me all along? The one on the cliff, too?

  That must mean—

  Oh, God.

  He extends a hand. There's no smile on his face. “I'll help you up, Elaine. We need to talk.”

  “Clearly.” I try to sound tough, but inside, I'm screaming.

  He faces the Dwellers. How can he look at them without passing out? I can make out their hats—or their skins—out of the corners of my vision. I catch a glimpse of huge eyes, but avert my gaze back to the stars above.

  Next to me, Pit whimpers again. Growls. He’s still alive. Garrett pays him no attention. He extends his hand and the Dwellers release my arm.

  I take it. My heart pounds. I must have gone unconscious and I'm dreaming. The Dwellers knocked me out after all and this is some kind of hallucination.

  Garrett can't be involved in something so terrible.

  Or is he?