Raven: Book Three Page 18

  We weaved our way through the trees that lined the bank. I ducked low, knowing that Jack was not paying attention to the branches that were now slapping me in the face. We reached the spot on the river and I pulled on his mane once more, this time yanking it slightly to the left. He turned his head toward the river.

  “Come on,” I urged, digging my heels in his sides.

  He shuffled one foot into the water, followed by the other as he struggled to find footing. I kicked him again, this time with forceful persuasion. Jack reared his head, disliking my form of influence. He stopped and I grew frustrated as he went no further. The water rushed around all four of his ankles. I took a moment to regroup, adjusting my position on his back before pulling my legs away from his sides and then letting them go as they kicked him forward once more.

  Jack grunted, flicking his tail once before lunging forward suddenly, digging his back hooves into the river rock and leaping into the water. I screamed as I toppled off his back, hitting the water as the cold took my breath away for a second time. I flailed my arms as I fought to get back to the surface, gasping for air as I came up. I cleared the water from my eyes and looked for Jack, seeing he was now swimming across a deep pool toward the other shore.

  I cursed myself and slapped the water as the river carried me. The water had looked far shallower from the bank, certainly not deep enough that I could not touch the bottom. I began to swim, seeing Jack floating away from me as I bobbed in the fast end of the river. Water threatened to choke down my throat as I plunged one arm in front of the other, making progress as I swam into the slow side of the river where I finally felt rocks under my feet. I tread water for a moment before I was finally able to grab onto the rocks enough to remain stationary. I walked out of the river and onto the bank. Jack walked over the rocks and toward me, stumbling as he went. His head hung low as though sorry.

  I was breathing hard, dripping from head to toe. “Jack!” I yelled angrily.

  Jack reached me, nudging his nose against my wet sleeve. I shook my head, blowing air at his face and teasing him. He shook his head and sneezed. I grabbed my hair and rung it out, twisting it into a knot. At least I no longer needed a shower.

  I looked up at the hillside we had just descended, seeing now how steep it really was. I exhaled hard. “Well, that was about enough for today. What do you think?” I looked at Jack but he turned away from me and hobbled off the rocky bank and to a nearby patch of grass where he began to eat. I followed, sitting down beside him as I felt even weaker than I had before, my stomach still hungry, but now to the point where it had begun to hurt.

  I pulled my wet bag from my back, opened the latch, and reached inside. I pulled out my journal and the seemingly blank Book of Us, laying them on a patch of grass to dry. I looked up to where the sun had been, now gone behind the mountain as the cool ravine air surrounded me. I grumbled, knowing that now, I would probably remain wet all night unless I got a fire started. I stood on shaky legs, leaving my bag as I made my way further in toward the trees, searching for fallen pieces of wood.

  There was a bush of berries near the edge of the tree line. When I saw it, I dropped my task and ran toward it, ravaging the vines as I stuffed my face with blackberries. They were ripe and juicy, likely staining my face a deep purple. After about two cups I stopped myself, knowing that eating berries alone would not make my stomach stop aching.

  I focused back on the task of collecting wood, searching the edge of the forest. Filling my arms, I made my way back, dropping them on the ground as I cleared the vegetation and dug a shallow hole in the sand. Then I took each piece of wood and balanced them into a cone shape. I was proud that I knew so much about surviving in the outdoors, especially considering the fact that I had never even been camping. I know now that it wasn’t the wilderness aspect that had attracted me to the college. Obviously it had been the fact that Edgar had been here.

  I collected some dried leaves and placed them inside the cone in a tidy pile. I sat, taking a deep breath as my hands shook. The berries began to work their sugars into my blood, and after a moment, some of my energy returned. I grabbed two small twigs that sat nearby, rubbing them together in the hopes of creating a spark.

  After about fifteen minutes, sweat coated my brow and still I had no fire. Jack was standing nearby, his back foot relaxing as he dozed, fat and happy. I was jealous of him, angry that he could survive the night because his coat had dried rather fast. I let a shiver consume my body as I shook. Cursing under my breath, I decided to change my technique, grabbing a bit of the dry leaves and placing them beside the sticks. I then rubbed them together once more, this time faster, summoning strength I no longer thought I had.

  I saw a small wisp of smoke rise then, and adrenaline took over my body as I kept at it. It was then that a spark flashed across my eyes and the smell of burning vegetation wafted into my nostrils. I yelped, quickly tossing the bunch of smoking leaves in with the rest and lunging forward onto my hands and knees. I blew on the leaves, coaxing the fire to life.

  I looked at Jack. “Jack, look! Fire!”

  I leapt to my feet as the leaves ignited, dancing around. I wished Edgar could see me now, even Sam. They would not believe this new me, a human, making fire. I stopped dancing then, huddling close to the flames as I continued to assist them, watching the sticks smolder, then burn.

  Jack, too, walked closer, seeing now what it was I had been trying to do and sharing in the wealth of the warmth the fire now created. I sat, reaching for my journal and placing my hand on the page to measure how damp it was. It was still cold, but the fibers of the paper were dry enough to write so I reached into my bag and rummaged for the pen. Pulling it out, I saw it was streaked with blood from the surgery earlier and I wiped in on my shirt. I drew the pen into my hand and began to write.

  Though it had not been long since Before, I could not escape the feeling that I was living some other life completely. It wasn’t even a new chapter of my life so much as it was a whole new book. I felt so alive, though. I felt real—bound to myself like never before. For the first time, I could look at the world through the same eyes. I had done it.

  I placed the pen in the journal and shut it. This was to be the second entry of this new life, this new world. I put the journal back on the patch of vegetation and looked at my leg in the firelight. I was not used to watching something heal so slowly, still a deep gash as the thread held it together. The garlic had been washed out of it now, and I’d tried my best to keep it clean this time, hoping that it would be fine on its own.

  I leaned back onto the sand, propping my hands behind my head. I sighed, telling myself that this was it. This was my life now. Closing my eyes as the sound of the fire lulled me to sleep, and though I tried to convince myself no to, all I could think about was Edgar.

  HUMANITY

  “Jack!” This was the third morning that I had managed to lose him. “Jack!” I trudged through the trees as they whipped back at me, slashing my face. I was frustrated at this point, my progress continually thwarted by a stupid horse. Over the past six days we hadn’t gotten very far. I could still see the mountain where we had come from behind us, and that was not a very encouraging sign. It was not only that, though. The berries I had been living off of were making my stomach twist and knot, forcing me to rest more often than I’d liked. At least I had an abundant supply of fresh water, but I needed something real to eat, and soon.

  “Jack! Where are you?” I called, bringing my hands to my mouth. Though Jack had wandered off before, he had always come back when I called for him—at least eventually. I stopped to listen, hearing nothing but the wind in the trees and the sound of the river behind me. I didn’t want to lose that sound, it was my beacon and my way back.

  I walked on a little further, grabbing a branch and breaking it from the tree. I picked off the small twigs that sprung from it, creating a walking stick that I used to break down some of the soft low-lying nettles, a nasty little plant I had discovered for th
e first time. Never did I think plants could actually attack, leaving an array of throbbing red bumps around my ankle.

  “Jack!” I continued to call, hoping he would hear me. I needed him, not just for transportation, but for social connection. Talking to plants, which no longer talked to me, felt insane. I grumbled. “Jack!” I had thought we were inseparable, but apparently not.

  I began to sweat, so I pulled the pack from my back. I yanked my sweater over my head, straightening my tattered tank top. I balled the sweater up and shoved it into the bag, pushing down the journals. I let the bag rest on the ground for a moment as I enjoyed the way the breeze cooled the sweat on my skin, making it prickle with goose bumps.

  It was then that I heard a rustling behind me and I spun around to see what it was. “Jack?” I whispered. It sounded smaller than Jack, perhaps a skunk or small deer. Just in case it was the skunk, I lifted my walking stick into my hands like a sword. I heard the rustle again, this time closer. I took a step away from the sound, hunching down into a readied pose.

  The bush before me shook violently, followed by a high pitched scream. My heart leapt into my throat, the sound seemingly foreign. I stood frozen for a moment, hearing whomever it was struggle, and recognizing it to be a female voice.

  “Hello?” I took one step forward as I tightened my grip on the stick, my palms sweating. The voice continued to swear and I took another step toward it. “Um—Hello?” I asked again, this time louder.

  “Hello?” The voice finally answered, sounding a bit flustered and annoyed.

  Another rustling came from my left and my gaze shot to the source of this new noise, seeing Jack emerge from the trees with a mouthful of grass.

  I exhaled hard, relieved that this wasn’t some sort of ambush. “Jack,” I whispered. I felt better now that he was here, more confident when it was two against one. I heard the voice again, and looked back to the bush.

  “I don’t know who you are, but, would it be a bother if I asked you for help?” The voice sounded scared and desperate.

  “Uh—” I paused, putting my hand up in Jack’s direction, telling him to stay put. “Uh—Yeah, sure.” I craned my head from side to side, trying to look through the thick bush to find the woman. I saw a hand reach out toward me, scuffed with dirt and speckled with scratches. I took the hand and pulled as hard as I could, a struggle as my weak muscles were rivaled by her weight.

  She flew out of the bush then, toppling over me as we fell back onto the moist forest floor. Jack jumped, throwing his head in the air. I was quick to shove myself away and stand. I guarded myself, unsure exactly what kind of person I was dealing with. The girl lay on the ground with her arm across her eyes, exposing a cluster of scratches that spread from her wrist to her elbow. “Nettles—” she muttered. I lowered my walking stick as she moaned. Jack walked up behind me, sniffing the air.

  After standing there for another moment, I decided to talk. “Are you alright?” I asked, still standing about five feet from her. She looked about the same age as I, or at least the age I appeared, about eighteen. She had long brown hair that was about as mangled as mine, too, her roots in need of a touch up they would likely never receive.

  She moved her arm from her eyes then, staring at me. “That really hurt,” she half laughed as she said it, clearly not as concerned about me as I was about her.

  “I bet.”

  She blinked, her brown eyes looking at Jack. She looked to her side, grabbing a bunch of ferns and proceeding to rub the yellow pollen side against the red bumps from the nettle.

  So that’s how you ease the pain, I thought.

  “Nice horse.” She spoke, wincing as she continued to rub the fern vigorously against her skin.

  I nodded. “Oh, thanks.” It was strange to hear a human voice. It had felt like forever, though it had only been six days.

  The girl stood. “You scared me to death.” She brushed the dirt from her pants, inspecting her wounds.

  “You should probably put something on that,” I pointed to one scratch that was dripping blood.

  She wiped the blood from her arm and then wiped it on her pants. “It’ll stop eventually.” But I saw her reach for a nearby bush, grabbing a new handful of leaves and tossing them in her mouth. She chewed on them for a moment as I stared, curious about what she was doing now. She had a tart expression on her face, shaking as though the leaves in her mouth were almost too bitter to handle. After a sufficient number of chomps, she spit the green substance in her hand, and then spread it across the scratches.

  “There, I think I finally got it all covered,” she exclaimed satisfactorily. She then wiped her tongue on her shirt, as though trying to rid her mouth of as much of the taste as possible.

  I nodded. I still was not used to a human body, still unsure just what would kill me and what wouldn’t. Clearly, those particular leaves had some sort of medicinal quality.

  “How did you know to do all that?” I finally ask, finding I was still gawking at her.

  She shrugs. “Trial and error really.” She snorted. “Some of those plants can really give you a good ache in the stomach, though. I tend to stay away from the really colorful ones, just out of general safety.”

  I find myself shocked. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll kill you?”

  Her following laugh was cool. “I try just a bit at first, and if I don’t feel ill within the hour, I figure it’s alright. Then I start to experiment.”

  I nod. “I wish I had your bravery,” I muttered. She didn’t hear me.

  “So, what’s your name? Where are you from?” She stood casually, asking the questions as though she had asked them many times before.

  I stabbed my stick at the ground, finding I was nervous to talk with her, intimidated even.

  She laughed. “Don’t be so nervous. I’m not going to hurt you. I think at this point we all need to stick together.” She rolled her eyes. “And I can tell by the gaunt look on your face that you could use a little help and guidance.”

  I let a small polite smile pass my lips. “Well, my name is Elle. And I’m from—” I paused, not knowing what to say.

  The girl waited for me to continue with eager eyes, but when I didn’t, she didn’t pry. “Well, I’m Heather. I’m from Seattle.” She put her hand out toward me and I took it, assuming it was for a shake.

  “You’re from Seattle? How is it there?” I tried to carry the conversation further in my attempt to redeem myself.

  Her eyes got grave. “Not good. That’s why I’m here. There’s a group of us, about a days hike from here. We’ve already organized a town of sorts. We were actually here before all this,” she motioned toward the trees. “We were told it would be safer here.”

  I nodded again. “By who?”

  “Our leader,” she replied frankly, which told me nothing.

  “So why are you way out here and away from this town?” I pressed.

  She narrowed her eyes in a strange way. “My friend and I are looking for people, like you, and hunting as well. You would not believe the abundance of wild game! Tastier than anything I’ve ever had, too!”

  I nod. “Ah.” She was acting as though she were hiding something, so I brought up the friend. “There’s someone with you?” I looked to the woods behind her.

  She blinked, “Yeah, just a prophet of sorts. She’s back near the river. We saw your fire and figured we’d search the woods for the source.”

  “I see.” Perhaps she was protecting this prophet of hers.

  “You should come with me. I’ll take you there.” Her face was happy again.

  I nodded with reluctance, patting Jack.

  “They have to approve you, though. Our town is rather strict. We’ve had a lot of groups trying to invade us. People are desperate.” We began to walk back toward the river. I walked ahead a bit, trying to keep up with Jack as Heather kept her eyes on the ground, as though looking for something. “The prophet will be able to decide if you’re worthy by the time we arrive. If not, you ca
n travel on down river. There are many towns popping up along the way. I’m sure it won’t be hard to find shelter.”

  I made a sort of snorting noise in reply. “Strange, isn’t it?” I looked back at her, watching as she looked up at the trees. My long blonde hair swung off my back and over my shoulder then. Her gaze dropped to my back and she froze. Her mouth fell open, the blood draining from her face. Alarmed, I stopped as well, my brows pressing together as I watched her face.

  “Heather, what is it?” My heart began to pound, thinking there was something there, like a giant spider.

  She smiled then, rather suddenly. “Elle—” she kept her gaze on my back. Laughing with disbelief, she covered her mouth with her hand. I watched as she muttered something, then stomped the ground with excitement.

  “What?” I began to spin in place, trying to see what it was.

  She dropped her hand, “It’s true!” She walked up to me, covering the ground between us in two large steps. “It’s true!” She jumped up and down, touching her hand to my back as though it were made of delicate paper. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.” Her attitude toward me suddenly changed, and I sensed she no longer felt superior. “She’s going to be so happy to see you!”

  I clenched my jaw. “Who is she?”

  She stopped jumping around, her demeanor calming and her eyes fixed.

  “What is it?” I tried to look at my back again, but I could not see.

  “I thought it was a lie, something I had imagined. But, it’s you. Look, clear as day.” She was pointing now.

  I rolled my eyes, grabbing her shoulders as I shook her from the trance she seemed to be in. “Heather—” I said her name in a sharp tone.

  She looked deep in my eyes. “You did this. That’s what she said.”

  “Heather, what’s there? What is on my back?” I was focused on one thing only, freaked out by whatever it was she seemed to find so enamoring.