The throaty trill of the snapjaws electrified her body with a vitalizing jolt of fear. She dared a glance over her shoulder—the panicked face of her companion glanced back at her, and behind it, flashes of red and brown, the shapes of a dozen dog-sized insects darting through the trees in hot pursuit.
She dashed down the hill, breathless, legs numb from the constant pounding of her feet on the spongy forest floor. She heard a gasp, and whipped her head around in time to see Riona stumble and fall to the ground. She slid to a stop and raced back. Gripping her by the arm, she hoisted her friend up.
Riona doubled over, chest heaving. “They’re going to get us, aren’t they?”
Kora didn’t answer. She didn’t want to admit it. But she had to. A glance over her friend’s shoulder told her the snapjaws were closing in on them. Their dark forms poured on, and the scratching of sharp claws on bark announced their swift pursuit.
Kora dragged Riona behind her as hard as she could. “Just keep running.” Despite her words, her own lungs felt like she’d swallowed a burning ember. She didn’t know how much longer they could last, but she would never voice that concern out loud.
One of the snapjaws gave a cry, and the rest of the swarm echoed, filling the forest with the ghoulish barks of the hungry beasts.
They reached the bottom of the slope and splashed into a creek that flowed down a divot in the land. Kora changed directions and followed the course of the water. She let go of Riona. “Keep up.”
Riona wilted under her glare, but she didn’t spare the time to care. Survival was what mattered here. She would make up for her harshness later, once they weren’t in danger of being ripped limb from limb by the forest spiders.
Kora fingered the knife at her hip. It would be next to useless against a hungry horde of snapjaws, but it was the only weapon they had, and she resolved to fight tooth and nail before letting the beasts take her, if that’s what it came down to.
She chanced a glance over her shoulder, and her pulse quickened. The snapjaws were in plain sight now. Scores of the insects zipped from limb to limb, never once touching the forest floor. She could see right into their beady black eyes, and it seemed as though each and every one of them was staring right back at her.
The alpha male trilled his blood lusting cry again, and adrenaline surged through her limbs. She ran faster, no longer caring if Riona was keeping up or not. All that mattered was surviving.
“Kora—wait—,” Riona pleaded through labored breaths. She was lagging behind.
Kora gritted her teeth and forced herself to slow down. Riona caught up with her in a few short seconds.
“We—have to stand—and fight,” she gasped. “I can’t keep going.”
Kora’s fingers tightened around the hilt of the knife. Her eyes darted from her friend’s desperate face to the monsters quickly gaining on them. She had to make a decision, and fast. If they kept running, they would both die. There was no way to avoid that fact. And yet, if they fought, the outcome was likely to be the same.
Riona whimpered. “Kora, they’re coming…”
The snapjaws were almost on them—a mere fifty feet of forest foliage separated them from the razor sharp beaks and claws of the forest spiders.
She swore under her breath and muttered, “Need to stay alive.” She pulled Riona up and slid the knife out of its sheath.
Riona noticed the weapon and nodded enthusiastically. “Maybe—maybe, if we fight, one of us might make it out.”
Kora glanced one more time at the oncoming horde, and then turned to her friend. She sighed, her heart beating like rain on a rooftop. “We’re not fighting them.” Before Riona could react, she whipped her hand down and drew the blade along the girl’s leg, slicing through the skin and muscle.
Riona gasped in pain and clutched at the wound. Blood ran between her fingers. “What are you doing?”
Kora couldn’t answer. She stared down at Riona, eyes wide, breathing labored. Her knuckles went white around the handle of the knife.
The snapjaws skittered closer.
Kora took a step back. “Run.”
Riona’s face went white. She stumbled to her feet, wobbled forward, and dropped back to the ground before she could even take a step. “I—I can’t walk. Kora…why?”
Kora kept retreating. “I—I’m sorry. I had to.” She steadied her shaking hand and slid the bloody knife back into her belt.
Riona looked over her shoulder at the oncoming insects. A whimper caught in her throat. “No!”
Kora gave her one last look, and as the snapjaws poured over Riona like a roiling wave, she turned and ran.
Riona’s screams echoed in the forest.
* * *
Daniel and Ram didn’t stop their mad run until the tracks led them a safe distance from the mountain and veered into a narrow gorge with steep stone walls covered in moss and vines. The moon was at its highest, and without any trees to offer cover, the cold, white light shone down through the crevice above them, bringing everything to life in a ghostly shimmer. There, Daniel could run no more.
He slowed to a wobbly walk, tossed the branch between the ties, and then toppled forward onto his hands and knees in the dirt and gravel next to the tracks. His chest heaved; his lungs felt like he’d been breathing fire. Sweat dripped from his face.
Ram pounded up behind him, his heavy footfalls echoing off the chasm walls. He too slowed to a walk, but he managed to stay on his feet. He stopped a couple yards away from Daniel, huffing and puffing until he regained his breath. “You…would’ve been able to run better…without that heavy branch the whole time.”
Daniel spat between his hands. His throat felt raw. “I know.”
“Why did you keep it?”
“I don’t know.” Daniel’s answer lacked any thought behind it. His mind was doing what it had been doing since they first reached the tracks—replaying over and over the sound of the branch hitting the Preceptor’s skull. Replaying the shock and disbelief on Tess Kerrigan’s face. Reminding him that he had probably killed a man.
Daniel vomited to the side. Acid filled his mouth, and he grimaced.
“You okay?” Ram asked. He still hadn’t come any closer.
Daniel nodded, still on his hands and knees. “Exertion.” It was a lame excuse.
“No,” said Ram, “That’s not what I meant.”
Daniel stood up and wiped his mouth on his arm. “You saw the same thing I saw.”
“Yeah. The guy turned on her. That much was obvious.”
“He was going to kill her,” Daniel said, just as much to justify his actions as to explain them to Ram. “He was going to stab her in the back. I stopped him. I never meant to……” His couldn’t stop his voice from shaking. Since that moment, he’d been trying to tell himself that he had done the right thing. He wasn’t entirely convinced yet, and even if he had, it didn’t lessen the sickness in his stomach.
“I think I understand,” Ram said slowly, “That’s just not how I would’ve gone about it.”
“You didn’t do anything at all,” Daniel snapped. He immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry. It’s just—”
“No, you’re right.” Ram walked up to him and forced him to turn around. “I didn’t. To be honest, I couldn’t. I was as scared as you were.”
Daniel’s shoulders sagged. He was exhausted. “Well…what’s done is done. Let’s put it behind us.” He knew we wouldn’t be able to.
Ram clapped his wide hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “On the bright side, you saved her life. You did a good thing, Daniel.” He paused, and his eyes sobered. “But you’re right. There’s no going back now, that’s for sure. We should find a place to rest.”
“We can’t,” Daniel protested. “We’ve just started!”
Ram was firm. “Look at yourself. You can barely stand. It won’t do your sister a lick of good if we both pass out from exhaustion before we’re even halfway to Obenon.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like the idea
of putting off finding Litty at all. She needed him.
Ram persisted. “Look, we need to rest. We covered more ground than you realize, at the speed we were going.” He paused. “Two hours. That’s all. We can still be on our way again before the sun is up.”
“Fine.” Daniel kicked at a loose rock. It bounced away and hit the iron tracks with a clang. “Not here though. Kerrigan knows where we’re going. If they’re looking for us, they’d check the tracks first.”
“Good point,” said Ram. “Let’s head to the other end of this gorge. Then we’ll find a safe spot away from the tracks.”
Daniel agreed, and the two of them made their way through the gorge. The moon had dipped below the ridge above them by the time they found a place where it would be fairly easy to climb out. They did so, and headed into the woods at the top. When they had gone far enough that the tracks were well out of sight, but not so far that they wouldn’t be able to find their way back, they stopped.
“This should do fine,” Ram said. He dropped the backpack on the ground. The cans of food clanked together. “Hungry?”
Daniel waved his hand. “I don’t think I’d be able to stomach anything right now.” He stomped down a patch of long grass at the base of a thin birch and sat in it, resting his back against the tree. “Sleep if you need to. I doubt I’m going to.”
Ram stifled a yawn. “I’m not tired either.” Within two minutes, his head rolled back and he was snoring.
Daniel sat motionless, staring up through the branches far above his head, out into the cloudless night. He missed Litty. She should be here with him, snuggled up on his lap, her head resting against his shoulder. He would stroke her hair—her hair always smelled good—and everything would be okay. But it wasn’t so. She was still miles away. She’d be cold, and hungry, and lonely…he slammed his fist into the ground. Tomorrow…tomorrow he would find her. Of that, he was sure.
* * *
Kora stumbled on. She was lost, and she knew it. Hot tears left streaks through the grime on her face. Her legs felt like they were going to give way at any moment, and her lungs burned. But she was alive. She had survived.
She blotted out the images of Riona’s terrified face and dying screams in her last moments. She couldn’t afford to feel anything—no regret, no pain, no guilt. Just survival.
Her toe connected with a jutting out root, and her momentum sent her to the forest floor. She rolled into the trunk of a tree and found that she couldn’t get up. She couldn’t move. It hadn’t been long, but she felt safe—for the time being. The snapjaws hunted on instinct only. Now that they had a downed victim they would chase her no longer.
One short gulp at a time, her breathing calmed, and the feeling returned to her arms and legs. Fighting off nausea, she pushed herself to her feet. She had no idea where to go, and she wasted little time trying to figure out her bearings.
A snap sounded off in the trees to her right, causing her to sit upright and hold her breath. The woods remained still, but she knew all too well how deceptive the calm of the Untamables could be. Her hand reached instinctively for her knife. Her fingers brushed the blade and she cringed at the warm stickiness that met her skin.
Riona’s desperate eyes flashed in her mind, and she let out a sob before she could stop herself. Then the vision was gone, and she tried to regain her composure.
Keep moving. She needed to move. Get to safety. She had to be close to the outpost by now. If she kept going, she was sure to find it before long.
Kora forced her feet to respond to her prompts, and one staggering step at a time, she pushed on through the never-ending forest. Up ahead a clearing opened up, and she veered her course to get to it. Maybe she could find a tree tall enough to climb and get a better sense of where she was.
She peered cautiously out into the glade before entering. Nothing was in sight. She began to relax a bit. The sound in the woods had probably just been a deer or a bird in the brush. She found the fact that if there were still snapjaws in the area they would have dismembered her by now strangely comforting.
For now at least, she felt safe.
Kora scanned the trees surrounding the glade, searching for one that would allow her to scale as high as she could.
Then her foot punched through the earth as though the ground had given way out from under her. Her hands flew up in the air and she gave a yelp as she fell through a webbing of packed grass and the ground swallowed her like an open mouth.
Darkness enveloped her, and she found herself tumbling down a tunnel in such a way that jarred her limbs. Her hands went to her head, trying to protect herself from the stones and roots that jutted out of the earth.
At last, after what seemed like minutes of falling, she slid to a halt on her back on a flat surface of stone and damp earth.
Kora groaned, her eyes shut. Her back felt like she’d been hit by a truck. Something hard and knobby—a root, no doubt—dug into her spine, yet she lacked the strength to roll away from it.
For a moment, she lay there, stunned. What kind of dark hole had she fallen into?
She was about to attempt to sit up when a faint sound made her freeze in place. Click. Click. Scratch. Her heart sank to her stomach like a lead ball.
She felt along the hard surface under her. Her fingers found loose earth, flat stone, and then the last thing she wanted to feel—webs.
Click. Scratch. Click.
It was getting closer.
She clenched her eyes shut as though that would make the danger go away. Yet the truth could not be avoided—she’d fallen straight into a snapjaw den. And she was going to die.
Silence. Just the damp air enveloping her body.
She cracked her eyelids open.
Two glowing yellow orbs stared back down at her.
* * *
Daniel couldn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, the sun was already up somewhere behind the mountains.
He bolted to his feet, nearly slipping on the wet grass in the process. How long had he been asleep? It must have been at least several hours. He clenched his fist and pounded the birch at his back. One setback after another. He shivered in the early morning chill. The morning birds sang their early song, the grass all around him sparkled with dew, and a thin fog dissipated into the forest.
Ram was still fast asleep. He’d shifted positions during the night; now he was curled up in the grass, clutching the backpack like a child would hold a stuffed animal. Daniel studied him. Despite the harsh way yesterday had thrown them together, he supposed he was thankful that Ram was with him.
Daniel took a moment to look into the forest in all directions. There was no sign of anyone coming through their hiding spot while they slept, but he wanted to make sure they were still alone. He saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Snap. Crack. Something moved in the depths of the forest.
Daniel froze and held his breath, listening. It was probably just a deer. If the Preceptors had found them while they slept, there was no reason for them to remain hidden for so long. All the same, it would be best if they left. Enough time had slipped through his fingers already. He went over to Ram and gently shook him.
Crack. He heard it again. It was a little bit louder this time—something was definitely out there. Again, Daniel scanned the trees, but he couldn’t see anything out there.
Ram let out a sleepy groan and rolled over, letting go of the backpack.
“Ram,” Daniel said, nudging him with his foot, “Wake up.” He looked over his shoulder. “Something’s out there.”
Ram’s eyes blinked like a camera shutter. “What? Did I fall asleep?”
Something moved in the forest. Bushes rustled, and twigs snapped. Whatever was out there was getting closer by the minute.
Daniel put a finger to his lips and motioned for Ram to hurry up. “We’ve got some sort of company.” He lowered his voice to a whisper.
Ram hopped to his feet, shook the sleepiness from his arms and legs, and hoisted his b
ackpack over his shoulders. “Preceptors?”
They heard a soft warble, almost like a bird call, followed by the sharp clacking of hard claws on wood. Anyone who’d lived in the Untamables for long knew what that sound meant.
Ram’s eyes went wide. “Not Preceptors.”
Daniel swallowed hard and clutched his branch in both hands, forgetting about the knife in his belt. “Snapjaws.”
“Wh—what do we do?”
Daniel was about to answer when the snapjaw trilled again, this time more aggressively. It couldn’t have been more than twenty yards into the trees, yet with the density of the foliage, he still couldn’t see it. More of its kind joined in—five, six; maybe more.
Ram yelped, and, abandoning all attempts at stealth, bolted into the forest, away from the gorge and the railway.
“Ram, no!” Daniel started after him, but stopped in his tracks when he heard the snapjaws pick up the pace in pursuit. Coming right towards him. Almost not daring to, he looked over his shoulder. The trees just beyond the clearing’s edge bowed under the weight of the charging insects, their crab-like legs drumming across their oaken path.
For an agonizing moment, his own legs wouldn’t respond to the urge to run, but then something snapped in his brain and he took off after Ram, running as fast as he could without smacking into a tree.
He spotted Ram’s backpack zipping in and out of sight between the trunks of the trees, and he doubled his efforts to catch up to him. The heavy backpack must have been slowing him down, because in a short moment they were side by side, fleeing for their lives.
He glanced over his shoulder, and to his relief, the snapjaws were nowhere in sight, although he could still hear their warbled cries. Maybe they had given up the chase, or maybe they had just wanted them out of their territory. Either way, he felt no need to stop running. Then he saw something through the trees, farther up the hill—first the glint of the sun shining of a metal surface, then gray painted boards, a rickety door—a cabin.
“Look,” Daniel said, pointing towards the structure.
Ram acknowledged that he had seen it with a nod. They altered their course in order to get to the house as quickly as possible. The snapjaws were gone, for now, but the thought of a safe refuge propelled Daniel forward.
Little One Page 4
