Текст книги "The Woodlands"

Автор книги: Lauren Nicolle Taylor

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Sometime in the night, I felt a strong chill. I shuffled around in my sleeping bag, thinking I had rolled to far from the fire. Joseph stirred but did not wake. He muttered something and put his hand on my waist. I looked to the center and saw nothing but the spotted orange glow that clung to ash. The fire was out. I heard scratching, or something being dragged across the other side of the campsite. I breathed in slowly, trying not to make any noise. As I exhaled, a glowing light just past the fire froze, yellow eyes shining in the moonlight. I jabbed Joseph sharply in the ribs. He made a startled, snorting noise as he awoke and, whatever it was, became smaller as it retreated but didn’t disappear.

“Joseph,” I whispered, “there’s a yellow-eyed thing out there.” I pointed to the eyes, grabbing his head and aiming it in the creature’s direction. “The fire, Careen said it scared them.” Joseph’s body went rigid and he jumped out of the sleeping bag like a spring.

We woke the others and together we stoked the coals, throwing kindling and logs on until it was roaring, our skin looking golden in the flames. Behind the statue of the man with the outstretched hand, I saw the flick of a long tail and black and white stripes. I heard scuffling. I drew breath in slowly, weighing up the threat. My eyes searched the darkness anxiously and found several pairs of yellow eyes floating like a disturbing set of stringed lights about fifty meters from where we were.

“Can you see that?” I pointed in their direction.

Joseph nodded, jaw tight, looking unnaturally magnificent in his shredded shirt. The fire glazed his skin gold, his muscles tensed and ready to fight.

The eyes were joining with other eyes, forming a semi-circle, closing in slowly from the western side of our campsite, like a ring of candles, flickering as they blinked. Apella panicked and darted behind Alexei, the whip of her grey shirt the only evidence she was there. I watched her in disgust, the desire to throw her to them was hard to suppress. We burned everything in sight, watching the flames climb higher and higher. Our faces and hands charred red from the heat but we couldn’t step back. Deshi and Joseph armed themselves with the knives. I waited to see Careen striding forward, spear in hand, but she wasn’t there. I gulped, horrific visions of her torn-up body sprawled somewhere clawed at my mind. Where the hell was she?

The eyes stalled at the sight of the fire, there was a faint cry like a ‘whoop’ and then a chorus of whoops filtered through the air above our heads. Slowly the eyes edged away from sight. Whatever they were, there were at least thirty of them and my guess was there were probably more. Joseph’s hand curled over my shoulder and I set my head down on it. “We can’t stay here,” I whispered, feeling the panic ease with his touch. He squeezed his hand and nodded, eyes distant.

As the grey morning approached, we were shocked to discover how close they had come while we were sleeping. All around us were the remnants of our belongings, things dropped as they were dragged off into the night. These elusive creatures seemed intelligent and organized. Unlike the wolves, they hadn’t just destroyed things; they had taken items of interest and discarded others.

I was just about to start searching for the grisly remains of Careen, when I heard a loud thump and she came strolling out of the wooded area to the east of our campsite, eyes bright. Her attitude was casual, unfettered, and she was surprised that we were angry at her, or even that we worried about her safety.

She admitted she had seen the creatures approaching and had jumped up into the closest tree, spending the night there.

“Thanks a lot for the warning,” I said, glaring at her.

She shrugged, unconcerned. She was used to looking after herself. It seemed a very foreign idea that she should assist anyone else. I thought back to her behavior when we first met, suspecting it was less about heroics and more just the fact we were between her and her kill.

“Next time, it would be good if you could let us know there are animals stalking us before you scale the nearest tree.” I tried to say it calmly but it came out sounding more biting.

She looked at me, her eyebrows drawn together like I had just snatched a sweet from her hand. Tucking her hair behind her ear and cocking her head to the side, she chirpily replied, “Sure thing!”

I looked at her like she was something other than human. She was so strange. I didn’t like the idea of being holed up with her over winter.

As we packed up, we noticed Alexei had lost his reader. The grey box was missing as well. I wondered why the animals would want with that. I imagined them preparing meals and it made my hairs stands on end. This place was starting to really give me the creeps. It was definitely time to leave.

Hessa cried out and I felt a pang of anxiety, wondering how we were going to feed him.

Deshi searched frantically for the box, with Hessa tucked under one arm, the baby screaming until his face went ashen and his lips were purple.

Careen turned around and retrieved the box from under a flat, grey rock at the base of the tree she had dropped down from. “Are you looking for this?” I took a step towards her, my feet pressed hard against the earth, ready to tear her throat out. But Joseph’s arm was in front of me, blocking my path. “Let it go,” he muttered through his teeth.

I did, just this once, noting she was someone to watch closely.

Deshi snatched the box from a baffled Careen and quickly prepared a bottle for the screaming child.

As Deshi fed Hessa, I took up the capsule and made some adjustments. Attaching one-foot long, pointed spears to the top part that encased his head. It made him look like he was wearing a crown, but it would protect him from any animal jumping down on him.

Sadly, we had lost most of the clothes we had found and I didn’t want to go back to get more. There was one shirt left which I offered to Joseph. It was too big for me. He thanked me and removed his torn t-shirt. I made an idiot of myself, swallowing a gasp at his well-muscled chest. When he pulled the shirt over his head, I turned my back to him. I didn’t want him to see me blushing.

“All right, Jo,” Deshi smirked, as Joseph did up the remaining buttons. “We all know you’re gorgeous. Stop showing off and start moving.” He clapped his hands together smartly and flicked his head away from the campsite.

We made our way back to where we had left the train tracks two nights ago. We moved quickly, the urge to explore was gone. Apella was still unsure and Alexei had to half-drag her as she continually swiveled her head around, looking in doors and searching rooftops for evidence of people.

We followed the tracks out of the city and headed south-east, deciding to put at least a day’s walk between us and the yellow-eyed beasts before looking for a place to shelter. Joseph scooped me up in his arms before I had time to argue.

“You look tired,” he said

“Gee, thanks. You know? So do you,” I said, poking at the dark circles under his eyes.

He pulled his head away from my touch and grinned. “Yeah well I’m bigger and stronger. I can cope better.”

“The way I’m going I’ll be bigger than you by mid-summer!” I joked.

He laughed. “Hmmm, you are getting a bit heavy.” He pretended to drop me, catching me at the last second.

I squirmed unenthusiastically. “Well then, put me down.”

He paused and shook his head, blond curls settling into their delicate weave. “Nope,” he said as he took big strides, leading the way.

I put my head on his chest, the pressure of the last few days squeezing me like a concertina, making the air around me soft and dozy. I was pleased with my decision. It was going to be hard. Hard, hard work, Mr. Gomez would say. But it felt better knowing we had a purpose, a strategy. I knew my knowledge of building was going to be useful. I could help. I could do something other than grow fatter and more uncomfortable every day. I listened to Joseph’s heartbeat, deep in his chest, and I pushed the doubt down with it. Pushed down the feeling I could be wrong, that it would be too hard. We had to keep moving forward. We had to try.

I let the dozy feeling wrap around me like a loose bandage and daydreamed about what it might be like to have a home. A home with Joseph and, of course, Hessa and Deshi. Could I make room for another in our little family? For the first time, I opened my mind to the possibility. It was a hazy dream. I could see the four of us; the fifth member was a sketchy grey cloud I couldn’t quite put a face to. Up until now, the leech was not even allowed to exist in my dreams. But it was pushing away at them now, infringing on the edges. Making it presence known.

After a couple of days walking, we started scouting for a position for a hut and store. I put together a rough house plan, using the surrounding timbers as a starting point. We needed somewhere flat, which possibly backed onto a hill, and hopefully faced the morning sun.

Low, grass-covered mounds dominated the scenery like a voluptuous woman had laid down and pulled a green blanket over her body. Small patches of woods sprouted up like green-brown birthmarks on the land. It was a gentle and inviting, although I could imagine it was very different once covered in snow.

We chose to build against the shelter of a low hill. It was stupidly idyllic, with a creek running through the valley and plenty of well-shaped adolescent pines that would make perfect logs for a cabin. The construction would be simple. The boys would cut the trees and drag them to the site. I would carve the notches in the logs and shape wooden pegs to secure each log to another. Apella and Careen would pack every crevice with mud and collect stones for a fireplace. At this, Apella’s smooth as silk face scrunched up unappealingly. I smirked at her and rubbed my hands together. Hands that were itching to get dirty.

Once we started, we quickly got into a rhythm, working in unison to achieve this one goal. Apella stopped talking about survivors and settlements. Deshi, Joseph, and I took turns caring for Hessa while working and Alexei flapped about, occasionally being useful, but more often than not just getting in the way.

Hessa was changing daily. Changing from a baby to a little person. As we worked, he would lie on a rug and happily gaze at the sky, kicking his chubby little legs in excitement. He had his mother’s temperament, always smiling, hardly ever crying. He adapted easily.

We walked into the forest every day. It was wonderful not to be trudging down the same line. We meandered down different paths, stopping whenever we pleased to examine something or collect some food. I started to teach Joseph about the different fruits and nuts we needed to store. He wasn’t a very good student, listening to half of what I had to say before pinning me against a tree, burying his face in my hair and kissing my neck. Driving me crazy. He was very good at this, and I was very good at being distracted. To a point. There always seemed to be a moment where something would clamp down inside me and I had to stop him.

The cabin was nearly finished. It had been two and a half weeks and the basic structure was done. I stood back and appraised it, casting my eyes over the dark wood and dripping mud. It was a bit wonky, leaning into the wind like it was listening for a secret, but it was solid, strong. It had no shutters or a door yet, but it would be comfortable. The fireplace was half-finished, made of stones and clay mud. I tapped my finger on my chin absently; I needed to ask Careen to focus less on hunting and more on the fireplace. We needed that done if we were to stay warm over winter.

The sun pulled back like an eyelid over a blue iris, streaks of light skipping over the craggy bark of the pine log I was planing. I ran my hand over it, enjoying the splintering feeling, the coarseness. My arm tugged backwards and I lost balance. Joseph pressed his hands into my back and steadied me. I squinted up at his shadowed face. “Want to go for a walk?” I nodded eagerly. The time for us to be alone was coming to a close; there would be no privacy when we were holed up in the cabin for days or weeks at a time.

I looked down as we walked, I couldn’t see my feet anymore, but I noticed the leaves were starting to change color and drop to the forest floor. The seasons were changing. I scooped up various plants and seeds as we moved, examining them in my palm. Tossing some away and stuffing others in the brown leather bag I had brought with me from the ruined city. I found my knowledge was pretty limited. I would bring things back to the hut; we’d examined them, weigh up the risk of trying them, but most we threw away. We could do nothing if one of us was poisoned.

Joseph bent down and picked up a pinecone off the ground. He swung around, asking me the question he always asked, “Eat or don’t eat?” His eyes glinting with mischief.

“Eat,” I replied.

Joseph opened his mouth to bite the pinecone.

“Not like that,” I laughed. I took it from his hand and showed him how to pull the edible nuts out of the woody, brown spikes. I handed him one. He ate it, screwing up his nose.

“I think I prefer the grey stuff,” he said, scratching his arm unconsciously.

“Well, you better get used to it. If there’s no light, it will be nuts and berries,” I lectured, shaking my index finger at him.

He wrapped his hand around my finger and bent his head down to catch my eyes. I shivered under the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t forget the dried meat,” Joseph teased, knowing it would annoy me for him to talk about Careen’s contribution to our food stores. She proved to be quite a good hunter, bringing back rabbits and birds, which she carved up with frighteningly good skill, drying strips of them over the fire. She also collected piles of pelts, which would be useful for warmth over winter. I appreciated everything she did, but I found her intimidating. In the back of my mind, I worried about how much she seemed to enjoy the killing. At least, she had stopped rubbing herself up against Joseph like a cat starved of attention. Mostly because he had told her, kindly but firmly, that he wasn’t interested. I guess it was better than the solution I had played out in my head, where I jumped on her and scratched her eyes out. Joseph only found my irritation with her amusing and he seemed to enjoy bringing it up just to get a reaction out of me.

“You can’t just eat meat all the time,” I snapped.

“I know, I know,” he said, arms up in surrender, the sleeves of his shirt pulling back to reveal his forearms.

“What’s that?” I asked, grabbing his arm and inspecting it more closely. It was red and bumpy, the skin angry and raw. I ran my fingers lightly over the sore flesh and he sharply withdrew, wincing in pain.

“It’s nothing. I think my skin’s just irritated from all the sawdust. My boss is such a slave driver, you know,” he said with a smirk, jerking his sleeve down and pulling me towards him.

I was concerned, but as soon as he started tiptoeing his fingers up my arm, I forgot what I was thinking. Joseph had become very good at avoiding my huge stomach as his fingers meandered up my arm and found their way to my hair. Pulling my head gently to the side, he parted my lips with his own. My head filled with gold, pushing logical thoughts out of my head like loose slips of paper.

After a while, he pulled his head back and I felt his lips gently brushing my ear. “I’m so impressed with you,” he whispered.

“Really, why?” I asked, not really caring for the answer, just craving his lips on my ear again.

“You’ve come so far.”

I froze, no longer moving towards him. Feeling my body reluctantly, but instinctively, pulling away from his touch. A beautiful oak tree leaned down to hear us, its orange and yellow leaves lighting the branches up like flame.

“What does that mean?” I asked defensively, clenching my fists.

Joseph eyes fell. He scratched his arm again and let his arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Rosa, I don’t want to fight.”

I took another step back, my feet crunching and then squelching into the dirt as I stomped, vibrating with anger. “Just explain to me what I have done to impress you so much?” I spat.

“I just meant, you’ve changed, you’re more open, you’ve let me in.”

He stumbled over his words, trying to diffuse me. He held out his hand but I smacked it away. I hated when he tried to ‘manage’ me like this. It made it even harder to control my anger. It rose in me like an over boiling pot, bubbles surging up and burning me with hot steam. I was of two minds, one part of me trying to calm down but the other, overwhelming part, held onto the anger and pushed it forward.

“I didn’t realize I was so behind before,” I said sarcastically, knowing I was taking it too far, but unable to stop myself. As I grew in size, so did the strength of my changing emotions. I was fuming, although not entirely sure why. “You can’t change me, you know, this is it.” I was stamping the earth like a child having a tantrum, smattering the colored leaves with dirt.

Joseph’s expression changed from apologetic and calm to angry, his mouth pursed, eyebrows knotted, a temper starting to boil up to join mine.

“Believe me, I know that,” he said loudly, his deep voice booming through the forest. I leaned away, shocked; he had never really raised his voice to me. I knew I had gone too far, I knew it, so why didn’t I stop? I pushed his chest. He didn’t move. So I turned my back to him and uttered, “You need to leave, now,” even though I didn’t want him to go anywhere. I was desperate for him to stay.

“Fine, you get your way.” He walked away from me, his boots thumping through the forest loudly. But as his furious form retreated through the trees, I caught him mutter, “You always do.”

My face fell and tears brimmed over, splashing down my face. I willed him to turn around, to see my sorry face, but he never did. He just stormed through the soft undergrowth, trampling plants and scratching his arm furiously as he went, until he disappeared from sight.

I looked through the spaces between the branches of the oak tree. Little framed windows of white light sparked and shot down to the forest floor. What’s wrong with me, Clara? Why can’t I be happy? Why am I always pushing him away?

I thought back to the day when I was eavesdropping on Joseph and Clara’s conversation. “She trusts you, she just doesn’t trust herself,” she’d said. She was right. The closer it got to my due date, the more I worried about my feelings. I didn’t trust that I could make it work. I didn’t understand why he had faith in me, when everything I loved turned to dust. I fell to my knees, placing my hands in the dirt. This was what came of loving me. I picked up a handful and watched it trickle to the ground. Dust. Tears turning to mud as they merged with the ground.

I sobbed pathetically, sitting in a triangle of light that finally forced me to move. I rose from the ground and wiped my red face. I knew a lot of this was pregnancy hormones, but part of it was fear. The baby always drove a wedge between us because I was afraid of it. I resolved to try and talk to him rationally. I needed to explain how I was feeling.

I made my way back. Tonight was the first we would sleep inside. It was a good thing too; the nights had started to get icy, a fine frost gathering on the outside of our sleeping bags. I hoped Careen had made more progress with the fireplace. I hoped Joseph hadn’t stormed back angry and was telling everyone what a horrible person I was. No, he would never do that.

When I got back, everyone was hovering over something I had been working on. They were circling it and talking to each other when I broke the circle. I busted in, deliberately opposite Joseph, trying to catch his eyes, but he avoided my gaze. I frowned. I guess at some point it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t want to be my punching bag anymore but I was disappointed. I’d hoped he would realize that I was just overly emotional from all the hormones. With every second that he avoided me, I could feel myself prickling, feel the compulsion to yell or push him again, but I told myself to calm down. This time the calm side won. He couldn’t always be the understanding one. This time it was my turn to make it right.

“Why are you all staring at the door?” I asked, bending down awkwardly to wipe some sawdust off the roughened planks of wood. Joseph’s hand reached out to help me, but then it withdrew quickly. I stayed on the ground, looking up at the group. I had laid out the planks side by side neatly and placed cross braces on them to make a door, but I hadn’t quite worked out how to hang it in the doorway.

Deshi spoke first. “How are we going to put this up? We can’t have a house with no door over winter. It kind of defeats the purpose,” he said crankily, holding Hessa over his shoulder and bouncing up and down as he patted the child’s back.

Careen held out her hand and I took it. She pulled me up too quickly and I felt the blood rush to my head, swaying a little, Apella steadied me with her wispy hands. Joseph stood, hands by his side, silent.

“I’m not sure, at the Classes we were taught to hang doors with hinges. I don’t think I can fashion hinges from wood. Besides, I don’t think they would be strong enough,” I said, still trying desperately to get Joseph to look at me but he wouldn’t. His jaw was tense and he looked at his feet. It was just a little fight and he was sulking like a child. I watched him pat his right arm over and over with narrowed eyes.

“Couldn’t we just stand the door in the gap?” Apella said naively, flicking her finger towards the yawning hole in the cabin.

“No,” I replied, thinking it over. “The weather would push through and it would blow down if it was windy. It needs to be secure and strong against the elements.”

Finally Joseph spoke, a smaller sound than I was used to, “Then we need some hinges.”

I knew what he was going to say. I knew I wouldn’t like the sound of it at all.

“I’ll go back and get some. Remember? Every door was rotted through but what was left of them was hanging off big, iron hinges,” he continued.

“No, it’s too far and it’s too dangerous,” I said, hearing my voice increasing in pitch. “We’ll find another way.”

His eyes were steeled as he said, “I doubt it. Look, we have plenty of time. The rest of you can collect more food and firewood. Finish the fireplace. By the time I get back, you’ll be done and we can put the door up.” He sounded so calm. Everyone else was nodding in agreement.

I pitched forward into the group. “Are you all crazy? What if he gets lost, or injured? He can’t go alone.” The idea of him leaving me was too much, especially on these terms.

“I’ll go with him,” Careen volunteered. My worst nightmare. Well, one of them at least.

Alexei pushed his glasses up onto his head only to run his hands through his hair and knock them to the ground. “Ok, then it’s settled, you can leave in the morning,” he said to the ground.

Everyone nodded and returned to their various tasks. I stood over my door, staring at it, racking my brain for another solution that meant he could stay. I couldn’t come up with anything.

I found Joseph stacking stones for the fireplace, the clink of rock on rock interrupted by his slight heaves. I touched his arm and he swung around, startled. When he saw it was me he relaxed a little, but I could see he was still hurt.

“I’m sorry,” I admitted, drawing the apology out of my mouth like a heavy bucket from a well. It was difficult, but I didn’t want him leaving without trying to work this out. In truth, I wanted to convince him not to go.

His surprise was hurtful and obvious. “Wow, ok, I thought it would take a little longer than that,” he laughed, that familiar smile returning to his face.

I moved closer, pressing my fingers to his chest. “I’m just a mess. The hormones make me crazy. I think, as we get closer to the leech…I mean, the baby being born, the more I worry about how things will change,” I confessed, heart jumping. I was wracked with uncertainty, feeling stupid to have put myself in this situation in the first place.

Joseph put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “I’m scared too, Rosa. Don’t you get it? I don’t want to lose you. I don’t know what will happen when the baby comes. I’m not sure how I will feel, or how you will feel.” His eyes left mine and he looked past me. “Sometimes I worry this was a mistake.” I went cold, sharp shivers shooting through me.

I hated how desperate I sounded when I said, “It’s not. Whatever happens later, I will always be glad that I had this, no matter how painful the rest might be. Don’t give up on me yet, Joseph. You know, you can’t always predict what I might do,” I said, smiling sadly.

“Oh, I know that!” he laughed as his arms slipped from my shoulders to my waist and he pulled me to his chest.

“So, it’s not a mistake?” I asked, looking up into his eyes.

“Oh, it definitely is!” he said, grinning, “But I don’t care.”

I wanted to say, then don’t go, but I knew it wouldn’t change his mind. He wasn’t as stubborn as me, but he was pretty close. I thought of going with him but I would only make them take longer. Instead, we climbed the hill that rose from behind our little cabin to watch the sunset. Joseph had to push me up the hill, but it was worth it to get to the top. We could see the mounds of grassy hills; rocky patches sliding into creeks and wooded forests. It felt like we were the only humans that had been here in hundreds of years. We probably were.

The sky was cloudy, which made for a more spectacular sunset. Colors of purple pierced bright oranges and deep dark reds the color of blood. We sat in the wet grass and watched the sun slip below the hills. I leaned into his chest, his warm arms wrapped around my shoulders, his shirt, uncharacteristically, buttoned at the wrist. His legs sprawled on either side of me and I felt cocooned, safe in my space between his chest and his worn, dirt-caked boots. I sighed at the state of them. All that walking. We had both come so far.

I placed a hand on his knee and he shifted slightly. “Don’t go,” I said, feeling tears welling. Panic and hope mixed together. I was annoyed that I said it. I didn’t want to be this person. This pathetic wreck, so tied to him. I was angry too. He opened me up, and now he was leaving, again. I felt like I would stay open until he returned, a throbbing wound bound together loosely by dirty string. I could have been happy before, but he changed what happiness meant.

“Rosa, don’t worry. I won’t be gone long. It’ll only be a couple of days. It will give you a chance to miss me,” he said, but his cheek was unconvincing.

I closed my mouth. Anything I said would only sound like begging, and it wouldn’t make any difference anyway. I was full of misgivings about this trip and I knew the next few days would be unbearable.

We stayed there for hours, talking and laughing. He held my hand and I kissed his fingers one by one. He nuzzled his now scruffy face in my hair and caressed my neck. We were determined to enjoy this last night together. Somewhere, the panic lifted and I floated away on a cloud of happiness and tiredness.

I only had a slight awareness I was moving, my head fuzzy from sleep. He lowered me into my bed, now propped up off the floor by fur and dried grass. It was warm and comfortable. I sunk into it, awaiting the extra warmth of his body beside my own, the comforting sound of his slow, even breathing. But all I could hear was a faint clattering. I opened my eyes drowsily to see him stuffing things into his backpack. I opened my mouth but he beat me to it, whispering, “The sooner I leave, the sooner I will be back.”

“No,” I begged, finding my voice. I pulled myself up, fighting sleep. “Please. At least leave in the morning.” My voice stripped down, withering and pathetic.

“All right,” he sighed, placing his pack against the wall. He climbed into the bag with me and I snuggled into his chest. I wished I could hide his pack or find some other way to stop him or delay his leaving. I fell asleep, concocting ideas of how I would convince him to stay in the morning.

When I opened my eyes to the beginning of morning, Joseph and Careen were gone.