Joseph shivered and pulled on a shirt, splotches of water showing through. I tried to hide my disappointment. He walked over to where Rash sat and grabbed his dark arm, pulling it up and fanning the air under Rash’s armpit. “Is that what you’re calling this smell?” Joseph quipped.
Rash jerked his arm back and shuffled away from Joseph with a hurt expression. “Hey man, would you mind not standing so close to me?” He started to laugh, his best toothy grin blaring in the pale morning, “It’s really bad for my self-esteem.”
Joseph responded by saying, “Shut your face!”
I grabbed my bag and wandered behind the cars to change, smiling to myself as I heard Joseph and Rash teasing each other.
I dug both hands into this moment and held onto it tightly.
We moved like sharp-edged shadows through the brush, weaving through towering trees dripping with moss and lichen, dancing lightly over the undergrowth. The fun of the morning was patted to our sides for safekeeping, because now we were getting closer and closer to the spring trap full of pointed teeth. It could clamp down on us at any second.
Then there was Olga lagging behind us, crunching everything in her path like her foot sought out the most brittle twigs and driest leaves, panting and waddling. Her pale skin grazed every tree. She got tangled in every blackberry bush. I could tell her Survivor companion was frustrated with her slowness, and he checked on her less and less as we approached our destination.
She huffed and I turned to see her delicately trying to pry a strand of prickles from her dark sweater. She looked like a peeled, hardboiled egg, shiny, white, and somewhat soft all over. But she gritted her teeth and pushed forward. I pursed my lips and walked back to her; Joseph stood waiting for me with his hands on his hips.
“You all right, Olga?” I asked, though I knew she wasn’t.
She swiped her forehead and looked up at me from her snagged position. “Fine. Fine,” she answered, finally freeing herself and stumbling forward, crushing a slender, white lily under her unsteady foot.
“Don’t worry, we won’t leave you behind,” I reassured her.
Olga looked at me curiously, her glasses a little fogged up, and smiled. “Oh, I know. That’s why I’m on this side of the wall.” She crossed her arms across her breasts, looking like a chicken ready for roasting, and toddled toward the waiting group. Matthew put his arm on her shoulder and spoke quietly. She nodded, and they continued walking while others scouted ahead.
Joseph chuckled next to me. “I like her.”
“Me too,” I said with a grin.
*****
We hiked long into the night, finally collapsing in a heap around eleven, when our feet felt more like throbbing wounds and our eyes only revealed slit-like images of the landscape ahead. We’d made good distance though, and it meant we were only about twenty kilometers from the wall of the Superiors’ compound.
I clung to the outline of a tree, picking away at the bark with my fingernails, hoping it would grow around me and anchor me to the ground. My feet could dig in like roots, and I wouldn’t have to move on from this feeling. I didn’t want to go from feeling safe to feeling terrified, but I could feel it building inside me. Aside from the two young wolves flanking us since we entered the forest, the journey had been quiet. I’d been able to laugh, smile. That would soon be over.
We slept close together. Olga volunteered to take first watch. No one argued, and soon everyone was sleeping where they sat, stood, and lay. I couldn’t get my eyes to close. There was no fire to disturb the night so the etched shadows were stronger, the noises clearer. But I liked it out here. I thought of Orry, knowing he was sleeping under the same sky as me, hoping Careen wasn’t filling his head with nonsense and Pietre wasn’t scaring him with his snarly expressions. I went over what I would say to Este. I sadly wondered whether I would get out of this alive. It didn’t matter. If we saved those children, it would be worth the sacrifice. But I promised Orry I would keep his father safe, and I intended to keep my word.
My hand rested on Joseph’s expanding and contracting chest. His face was a moonlit shadow, only the sharp outline of his jaw telling me it was him.
I wove my fingers together in a silent prayer and promised.
I’ll keep him alive.
*****
The rough bark of the tree I leaned against made a collage of my back. Some bits stuck, and others left deep imprints. I rubbed my eyes. The light was low over the branches, telling me it was close to dawn. I stood, yawning, turning in a circle as I stretched out my aching back. My whole body froze, responding to a rustle to my left.
My eyes found a bright white paw and followed it to the lowered muzzle of a dark brown wolf. A dead rabbit lay at its feet. It nudged the animal and stepped backwards, it nose still pointed downwards. It was smaller than others we had encountered, a juvenile, almost a pup, its fur down and short. A white wolf stood behind it a little way. I didn’t know if it was female, but it emanated wild beauty. When it stepped forward, the darker one growled, and it immediately lowered its stomach to the ground.
I was still frozen in mid-stretch, my eyes moving wildly in my head. Gus sat up to my right and saw the two wolves. He moved slowly to pick up his gun.
“No!” I said. “Wait.” I pumped my hands gently at my side.
The young wolf backed away, turned, and ran, leaving the rabbit carcass spread over wide, green leaves like an opened gift.
I didn’t understand it. But no one else seemed bothered by the animals’ strange behavior and were just fighting over who got to eat the rabbit. Something tugged at my mind. Why would two pups do that? Where was their pack?
I should have learned by now that the answers to my questions were never good.
*****
The answer swung before me like a nightmarish curtain. Hollow eyes stared back at the forest, stretching to their home, one to which they could never return. I’d started to ask how we would know if we were close, and now the question sagged on my lips and slipped to the ground.
Seven dead, adult wolves dangled from a wire strung between two trees. I gagged, and the Survivors bent their heads in shame. We must have been close. Only the Superiors could be this cruel and disrespectful to life outside their walls.
We probably should have left it alone, but I was glad we cut them down. If we could, we’d have buried them, but there was no time.
“You know, I read that farmers used to do this to protect their livestock, hang predators’ bodies over the fence as a warning. But what are they protecting here?” Pelo questioned.
“Only themselves,” I muttered as we walked into the shadow of the first wind turbine.
My feet faltered, soon we would be separating. Pelo seemed to sense my trepidation. He smoothed the hair from my face. “You don’t have to do this, Rosa. I could go in your place.”
I shook my head. “They need you in Pau. I don’t know it like you do. I never really saw the outer rings.”
“Could I forbid you to go?” He raised his eyebrows, eyes not hopeful because he knew the answer.
“This is just the way it has to be, Dad,” I said determinedly, saying the word on purpose, with purpose.
I shrugged and kicked the dirt in front of me. The great arms of wind turbines cut moving shadows across our path. The others were waiting. The shadows were like the hands of a clock, counting down each step to the plan, each possible way it could go wrong. We were all hinged off each other. I stripped a branch of its leaves and scrunched them in my hand. It had to work.