Chapter 24: The Woods
“Or else what?” Royce snaps furiously as he stands up, off the ground, and towers over his cousin.
Peter eyes him nervously. “I don’t know—I’m just trying to convince you to let me go with you.”
“We’ve already talked about this.”
“Nova,” he utters, turning to face me with a slight reproach. “Have you forgotten what we’ve meant to each other?”
Arthur—he’s talking about Arthur, I tell myself. But Arthur feels dead and buried now. I’ll always be grateful for his company all those years but sometimes a person has to let go of the past. Dreams aren’t always what they appear to be when reality touches them. And that’s what Arthur is now to me—a beautiful dream that has nothing to do with the reality of Peter and myself at this moment.
I’ll always mourn for the shimmering fantasy I once had, but time moves forward. I have to move with it.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” I express with a strong voice, “but like I’ve said over and over again, this mission is more important than either one of us.”
“You can’t leave me here! You can’t!”
“We’ve already talked about this,” Royce repeats, a severe growl in his tone.
“I know but—“ Peter cuts himself off when he starts teetering off balance. Fortunately, Royce catches him before he stumbles to the ground.
“You should be resting and not out here,” frowns Royce as he holds Peter up.
“I . . . please take me with . . .”
“Peter, are you okay?” I ask, concerned.
“I . . . I . . .” It’s all he says before passing out.
“Let’s get him back inside my shack,” states Meggy. “Frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t faint earlier.”
“Me too,” quips a smirking Pilar.
Carrying Peter back to Meggy’s home, Royce lays him down in his spot. The sleeping boy doesn’t stir at all as Royce and I gather our belongings. Outside the shack, Meggy takes my hand.
“You’re our biggest hope,” she says.
“You’re your own biggest hope,” I correct, smiling.
Meggy eyes me intently. “Don’t push who you are down, my dear. Let it flow up.”
“I—”
“Let. It. Flow. Up,” she emphasizes.
“I’ll try,” I murmur.
Realizing that we’re leaving, all the people who are still at the homestead stumble out of their shacks and form a line to bid us a warm good-bye and wish us a safe journey. A cautious Royce makes certain that no one knows where we’re actually heading to, but they know its Supernova business so it’s dangerous. As they bear hug us, I squeeze back. I don’t wince, I don’t feel suffocated, and I don’t have an overwhelming urge to pull back. Their touch doesn’t frighten me, it doesn’t turn my insides to ice, and it doesn’t make my heart tremble with confusion. My trust issues are improving as I’m starting to get used to being cared about.
It’s not a bad feeling.
Not a bad feeling at all.
“Let’s head out,” Royce states.
“I can’t believe I got to meet you,” Sonny gushes, his child’s exuberance sweeping me up.
“Sonny,” I say, grinning fondly at him, “I can’t believe I got to meet you.”
“We really have to go,” Royce announces.
“I’m going with you,” Pilar interjects.
“What?”
“I’ll go with you part of the way,” asserts Pilar. “I can help.”
Royce shakes his head. “You don’t have to. It’s dangerous and—”
“No one knows these woods better than I do.”
“I know but I wouldn’t dream of asking you to risk your life.”
“You’re not asking me—I’m volunteering.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask her.
“It’s not that I’m trying to play hero. It’s that your cause is my cause and as smart as you two are, these woods are my territory. I’ll teach you a few survival skills you probably don’t know as we go along.”
“Okay,” Royce announces. “I’m glad to have someone like you with us.”As we leave the friendly faces behind us, Pilar’s confidence eases me. When we step deep into the woods, she turns to Royce.
“Show me where we’re heading, and I’ll tell you if it’s the best way to go.”
Practicing caution as usual, Royce draws a map indicating the general direction of where we’ll be going and swears her to secrecy. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he says, “but if we’re captured, the enemy can be ruthless in ferreting out information.” Then he warns me that we’ve got a long way to go before reaching Freedom Warriors Headquarters.
“A long way?” I mutter, preventing myself from gulping.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Royce frowns.
Don’t think about it, I tell myself. Just take one step at a time. It just occurred to me where Region 3 is—it used to be El Paso, Texas. He’s not exaggerating when he says it’s far—especially on foot.
When Pilar examines the map Royce had drawn, she quickly makes certain adjustments. As it turns out, it’s been a long time since Royce made the trip and there are changes in the territory. I’m more grateful than ever for Pilar and her insistence on accompanying us.
“The main thing about being a good tracker is to pay attention,” she remarks as we hike. “Don’t overlook any prints on the ground, broken branches, or out-of-place items. Know your surroundings—really know them.”
“Good advice,” comments Royce.
“Always be looking and always be listening.”
“How long have you been a tracker?” I ask with curiosity.
“I was born to be one.”
“You were?”
“My dad says that ever since I was a little kid, I was always paying attention to details—I guess I was looking everywhere for my grandmother.”
“Looking for your grandmother?”
“She died when I was five. I thought that if I looked for her, I’d find her.”
“You became a tracker at five?” I ask, amazed.
“Yeah. It’s a nifty trick when you’re always looking for food,” she blurts. “Always, always, scrounging for it.”
“Must be tough,” Royce murmurs.
“What would you know? Struggling for food on a little journey like this one is nothing compared to a lifetime of it!” snaps Pilar. “Sorry,” she rushes. “My defensiveness is a reflex action.”
I understand reflex actions very well.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Royce declares. “You should be angry at how you’ve been treated.”
“But I don’t have to bite your head off. It’s not your fault you were born into privilege.”
“No, but I don’t mind letting you take some of your frustration out on me as long as you know that I’m on your side.”
Pilar’s admiring eyes set themselves on Royce. “You’re awesome!”
“Let’s concentrate on where we’re going,” Royce mutters, his voice uncomfortable.
As we step out of Pilar’s more familiar territory, we travel in complete silence. Pilar’s full concentration buries itself in the task on hand. We need to get through the woods without being detected.
Finally, underneath a tall tree, Pilar stops. Royce and I follow her lead.
“I think we should rest and eat,” she announces.
Royce nods in agreement. “That’s a good idea.”
She removes rations from her backpack—dried bear meat and dried fruit. We eat quietly until she speaks.
“We’re not too far from the river.”
“The river?” I ask, puzzled.
“We have to cross a river to get to where we need to go,” informs Royce.
Pilar nods, her eyes concerned. “I hope you know how to swim.”
“I can swim.”
“Me too,” I assert.
Her face relaxes. “Good.”
<
br /> Royce chuckles lightly. “The person who can’t swim is Peter.”
“Peter can’t swim?” I ask, surprised.
“Not very well.”
I let out a confused breath. “But weren’t both of you taking survival skills way before I came into the picture?”
“Yes, but he hates being in water. He always has, so learning to swim has been hard for him.”
Pilar makes a grunting noise. “I just have to ask this—have to.”
“What is it?” Royce inquires.
“Why in the world was Peter picked for this mission? I just don’t get it.”
“Believe it or not, he’s actually a very talented guy.”
Pilar’s face explodes in surprise. “He is?!”
“Royce’s cousin is not as bad as you think he is.”
“Royce’s cousin? He’s your cousin?” Pilar questions with distaste in her mouth.
“He’s my cousin.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I’m not.”
“You have to be!”
“Peter is my cousin.”
“The apple falls very far from the tree!—and rolls into stinky mud. How can you be family?”
“We were actually very close before this mission.”
Pilar’s eyes widen. “What happened?”
Royce glances at me before answering. “I’m the one who got picked to be leader. It was hard on him.”
Pilar lets out a loud snort. “Poor baby,” she coos. “Power does strange things to people.”
“And to the people around you,” mumbles Royce.
I nod forlornly. “Yep.”
“So the putz kept making stupid mistakes because he was trying to prove himself?”
“Something like that,” Royce states.
“He really has the ability to be great,” I say, “but he let his ego get in the way.”
Pilar shakes her head in disgust. “Too bad. Not many people can carry power on their shoulders with their heads in perfect place,” she announces, eyeing Royce carefully.
After finishing our meal, we start our journey again. Pilar asserts that it’s very important to reach the river before nightfall. Quietly heading for it, my mind wanders to Peter. How’s he going to react when he wakes up and finds us gone? Hopefully he’ll come to his senses.
“Almost there,” mumbles Pilar when we’ve traveled a few miles.
As we near the river, the sound of its fast-rushing water reverberates through the air. The deafening noise pains my ears, and the twisted trees next to it are ominous. Royce’s sudden unguarded expression makes me realize he’s thinking the same thought I am. How can we swim across it when it’s so fierce?
“Ugh!” exclaims Pilar, glaring furiously at the river.
It is so full, vicious, and wide that attempting to cross it will be suicide.
“What’ll we do?” I mumble.
“Is there a way around this thing?” Royce asks, his eyes darting around.
Pilar gruffly shakes her head. “No! We have to get across this monster!”
“We’ll drown,” Royce declares.
Pilar’s tight facial expression suddenly softens. “I know what we can do!” she gushes excitedly.
“You do?” Royce asks, a flicker of hope in his voice.
“Wait here,” she throws out as she rushes away.
“Where can she be going?” I ask, baffled.
Royce shrugs calmly but behind his eyes, I can see concern. “Hopefully, she’ll get us out of this one.”
Royce and I are alone together. This is a first. I mean, at Pilar’s homestead we had been outside with each other, but shacks with people inside surrounded us. This time it’s just him and me. I feel him taking a deep breath and then turning to me. I keep staring straight ahead. His dark eyes sweep over the side of my face, and I don’t have the nerve to meet his gaze. When he moves his eyes away from me, I’m relieved and disappointed at the same time.
Staring at the water, Royce and I fail to hear Pilar when she returns. When she speaks, we’re both completely startled. I immediately see the self-chastising look on Royce’s face for having let his guard down. It could’ve been an animal or a soldier sneaking up on us. Neither one of us can afford to be sloppy in any way on this expedition.
“I know how we can cross the river!” Pilar exclaims, her voice energetic and confident.
Royce’s eyebrows shoot up. “How?”
“Follow me.”
Taking us along the river banks marked with bushes and foliage, Pilar moves swiftly and decisively. She finally stops at a fallen tree that extends from one side of the menacing river to the other. It seems like uprooted trees are our salvation on this journey.
“How did you know about this?” Royce asks, not removing his eyes from the makeshift bridge.
“My dad.”
“Your dad?”
“Papi was hunting around here about a month ago and mentioned that he had seen a fallen tree making a sort of bridge.”
“Your father is my new hero,” comments Royce, smiling.
“We still have to see if the tree is solid,” Pilar states.
“Let’s get to it.”
Royce, Pilar, and I muster all our strength and try to move the tree—nothing happens. It won’t budge. Climbing to the part of the uprooted trunk that lies on the ground, Royce jumps up and down with concentrated determination. The tree keeps its position.
“I’ll go first in case anything goes wrong,” he states, “then you two can go later.”
“We should all go at the same time,” comments Pilar, “that way if something happens, the three of us can help each other.”
Royce shakes his head. “I need to test the tree first.”
“We already did.”
“She’s right, Royce,” I interject. “The bridge is solid. The three of us need to stay together.”
He frowns. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to be on the other side of the river and us on this side if something comes up on us?—a wild animal or something?” Pilar asks.
“You’re not telling me you’re afraid, are you?”
“Of course not,” Pilar snaps, insulted.
“I didn’t think so,” Royce states. “I’d like to see the beast—human or otherwise--that can go up against you two.”
“True,” Pilar nods confidently, “but still, we should stay together. I have a feeling about this.”
“Me too,” I assert.
He sighs. “I go first, though.”
“Okay,” I say.
We decide it’s better to crawl across than try to balance our upright bodies on the thick tree trunk. Slowly and deliberately, we start angling forward. I try not to look at the raging river but instead concentrate on moving ahead. With Royce first, me second and Pilar last, I’m sandwiched in the middle.
“Royce, I forgot to tell you. Be careful with rotted—”
But Pilar’s words are too late. The left side of the trunk Royce is on crumbles like a cookie in the hands of a hungry child.
He plunges into the vicious river.
Supernova Page 22
