Authors: Patti Larsen
While he struggles with reality, the hunter tenses and snarls at him, more animal than man in that instant, its intent clear. Reid knows if the thing—he can no longer think of it as human—had a tail it would be thrashing it at him. He can’t help the comparison to the great cat this creature chased off with only the sound of its voice.
Reid has seconds, less than that, to live.
His luck, so far an absent friend, finally shows up to give him a fighting chance. As the hunter shifts its weight to pounce, the weakened lip of the pit suddenly gives way. Reid stares, mouth gaping open, wanting to run but sickly fascinated, as the black-clad thing struggles to recover and wonders in the rational part of his mind if he looked that silly when he fell.
The hunter is more dexterous than him and manages to regain one foot hold. Without thinking about it, Reid leaps forward and dives feet first, planting his sneakers in the center of the hunter’s chest. It grabs for him, claws grazing his pant leg, tearing free one of the many pockets before it falls and lands with a loud thud.
This time Reid’s horrible curiosity can’t hold him. He doesn’t stop to investigate or check if the thing is injured. He scrambles to his feet and runs. Reid can hear it howling behind him, from the bottom of the pit. Alive then, and sounding unhurt. Of course his luck wouldn’t take him any further than that. He knows the hunter won’t be long getting out. But fate has given Reid a head start and he has no intention of wasting it.
He runs on.
***
Chapter Thirteen
The night passes him by. When the sky ahead of Reid lightens yet again, he is surprised to find he is still alive. Surprised, and very grateful. He has no idea why the hunter didn’t catch up to him in the dark, but he’ll take the time he’s been given.
In the meantime, he struggles with accepting what he saw. His logical mind and his emotions fight for control, arguing constantly between what is real and what can’t possibly be true. But he knows what he witnessed, can see the creature’s hands, the pointed teeth, the eerie eyes. All of that added to the way the thing moved and Reid finds it hard to deny.
Whatever the hunters are, they can’t be human. At least, not completely. If they ever were in the first place.
But none of it makes sense. Are they an experiment gone wrong? Some mad scientist’s private army of soldiers bent on world domination? It seems so ridiculous he rolls his eyes at himself. This isn’t some bad TV show, or a ‘B’ movie at two a.m. on a Sunday morning. Besides, he’s pretty sure there’s more to it than anything he could ever imagine.
Not that what he thinks matters, considering the circumstances. He’s done deceiving himself, though, through lying in the face of perceived reality. This enclosure, the fence, the kidnapping, all of it leads to one thing and one thing only. He and the other kids he’s encountered are nothing more than target practice.
Reid knows it’s irrelevant who is responsible, but he longs to find out, just so he has someone to blame. It’s too hard to pin it on the hunters because he is so afraid of them. Mustering anger toward them is just too hard to sustain. He waffles back and forth between Lucy and her boss, Mr. Syracuse, but it’s really difficult to stay mad at his sister when he knows she is as much a victim as he is, and in as much trouble, if not more. He has no face to give her mysterious benefactor, so his imagination musters a cartoon-like character too ridiculous to focus his rage on either.
Reid rolls all of this around in his head as the morning light briefly cheers him. Only then does he notice the terrain has changed. His calves have ached for so long he didn’t notice the incline until he is able to see it. The ground is rocky as well, more like the edge of the ravine where he left the fence the night before last. Reid turns and looks back the way he came, worried he has somehow gotten spun around but corrects himself. Since he turned from the electric barrier, he has been moving east all along. Unless whoever dumped him here also managed to change the path of the sun.
Honestly, if someone told him at that moment he wasn’t even on Earth anymore, he wouldn’t question it. Everything around him is just too surreal.
There is a small break in the trees ahead and he peeks out to have a look before risking exposing himself, wondering if he survives this will he ever feel completely safe in the open ever again. He doubts it very much.
When Reid finally sees where he is going, his breath catches.
Ahead is a low peak, covered in soft wood trees, but almost mountainous, rolling away into the distance. To his right runs a valley with a river running through it, looking like a sliver of blue and sliver, sparkling at him, instantly triggering his thirst. To the left are more trees and the continued incline.
Reid steps back into the shadow of a clump of spruce and does some thinking. So much for some alien planet. This just looks too much like a place he’s been before. He’s known since the first night he can’t be in his native Arizona any longer, not with the forest he’s been running through. But the scene ahead looks achingly familiar and he doesn’t want to believe it. It can’t be possible he’s this far from home. Just the idea of it makes this immeasurably worse even though he can’t explain to himself why.
His father took him camping in New Hampshire once when he was ten. It looked the same as his surroundings now. His mind flashes to cool nights, a well-kept campfire, his father smiling at him. Flames reflected in his sea-green eyes the exact shade of Reid’s and on his dark hair Reid also inherited. His father used to joke they were peas in a pod and Reid loved that. Especially when they camped in the forest, only a sleeping bag and what they could carry to sustain them. His father never believed in tents, instead insisting Reid learn how to make his own shelter.
He’s very grateful, even though he hasn’t had much of a chance to take advantage of all those old lessons. He’s been too busy running.
The trouble is, if the surroundings are the ones Reid recognizes, that means he is thousands of miles from home. He finally realizes why it bothers him so much. Reid holds all of his memories of his dead father dear to him and having this place, the same kind of place, taking over his treasured time with his dad does strange and terrible things to his already aching heart.
He could be wrong. There are forests everywhere. Oregon, for example. California. Equally as far and remote. Alaska? Or Canada even. But he knows in his bones he is right. Reid shudders. The compound is somewhere in the North Eastern US. It’s June. That makes sense. It is warm enough during the day and not too cold at night although he hasn’t really stopped moving so he sort of ignored the temperature so far. But the longer he is here, the worse conditions could get. He may be forced to hide during the day if the temperatures get too hot.
He’s been lucky so far when it comes to insects, and wonders where the black flies and mosquitoes are, constant companions the last time he stayed overnight in the woods. Not that he’s complaining or anything. Being a snack for ravenous bloodsuckers while running from the hunters would just add another level of hell to his situation. But it also reminds him just how controlled this whole thing feels.
Reid glances up at the clear blue sky and wonders how long the weather could hold. Rain would also make his life more miserable than it already is, although he takes it as a good sign he is even thinking about his surroundings and not totally focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.
He considers the food he has left, wondering if he should ration it further before shrugging to himself. Now or later, he needs the energy. He polishes off the last power bar and the final swish from the water bottle. The wrapper he hides under a rock, but the empty plastic container he tucks into one of his pockets. The river he spotted below is probably fed by the stream he encountered, and that means fresh water. He will need a container to store some in just in case the hunters chased him off for the second time. His thirst demands he find a way to never go without again.
Reid moves on, keeping to the east, which means climbing. He is relieved he hasn’t heard any hunter’s howls for a while and wonders if they ever sleep. He’s not exactly feeling safe, but as the climb gets harder he admits he is dead on his feet and needs to find somewhere to rest. It’s either that or pass out where he stands and make himself a ripe target.
Easier said than done. Reid starts looking, not for pursuers but a hidey-hole he can use, even for a few hours of rest. Tucking into the shrubbery worked fine in the dark, but in daylight he’s not so sure. Besides, the undergrowth has thinned and he’s having a hard time finding a place that would conceal all of him.
Reid considers a tall tree, the lower branches just within his reach, but quickly discards the idea. He would have to climb too high to be safe and out of notice, so high that if he fell he would definitely be hurt. He doesn’t have rope or anything else to tie himself to the tree, so climbing is out.
The idea of breaking a leg or suffering a concussion is enough to drive him onward.
As for building his own shelter, Reid decides to leave that as a last resort. It would take a great deal of time and precious energy to gather the materials he needs. Even then he isn’t sure he would feel comfortable trusting something he built. Had his father been with him, with his mad survival skills handed down from
his
father… but Reid is on his own.
He continues for another few minutes, sneakers sliding over brown spruce needles and damp moss before he spots what looks like a gap in the rock face ahead. He is fairly high by now, the cliff he stands on allowing him a better view of the world below. He pauses, panting, and has a good look around, so self conscious about exposing himself he tucks behind a tree and only pokes out his face.
Everything is very green in the new light of day, softly hazy to the west where a thin line of fog hugs the edge of the valley. A strip of gray winds its way in the distance, sparkling objects speeding by. The interstate. He tears his eyes from it. There’s no hope there, he knows it, but at least he’s found that edge of the fence again, giving him some perspective on how far he’s come. He’s actually amazed by the distance he has covered and how high he has climbed.
The scene is so peaceful and surreal, Reid wants to scream. Under the thin veneer of evergreens there is nothing peaceful about it. And yet, to an objective observer, it is the picture of calm and serenity. Trees stretch out far below him and, in the distance, he is sure he sees the edge of the fence catching the light. Other than the odd bird drifting from canopy to canopy, nothing else moves.
Reid turns and approaches the gap. This close he realizes it’s not just a crack in the rocks, but an opening to something more. He hoped for the tiny shelter the rocks he envisioned would provide. The idea of a full-blown cave stirs his excitement.
A sliver of fear surfaces. If he goes in, if he chooses to rest there, he might be trapped. Panic raises his blood pressure, pounds his heart. He glances around, suddenly sure the hunters lie in wait for just such an opportunity to trap a stupid kid. But he is as alone as before and so desperately tired he considers the cave mouth again.
Maybe there is a second exit. If so, he would consider it. Trouble is, there is only one way to find out. He has to go in.
Reid steps up to the entrance, noticing a small pile of broken branches draped over part of it. He hesitates. It looks like a trap all right. Those breaks are deliberate, not an accident or caused by the weather, and the pile is artful, as though carefully arranged. So it can’t be the hunters. They are too careful, too meticulous. Which means kids, maybe. Like him. Could it be someone sheltered here before him? Or even, was it possible, could still be here?
Reid rolls his shoulders forward as he shrugs to himself. If the cave is empty, but useful, he’s in luck. And if there are others, well… maybe they have answers he doesn’t. Either way, it’s worth the risk, no matter his fears.
Reid draws a steadying breath and ducks inside.
***
Chapter Fourteen
“Don’t come any further.”
It’s a girl’s voice, quavering and low. Reid can feel the fear radiating toward him, almost smell it in the cool and damp of the cave. It is so dark inside, his eyes still tuned to the sunny morning, he is forced to wait out the adjustment, all the while hating how vulnerable it makes him and refusing to back off at the same time.
There is a whisper of cloth, the sound of a shoe grinding over dirt and rock. A thin channel of light penetrates the darkness and someone glides into it. Not a girl, so she isn’t alone. This boy is small, scrawny even, his skin so dark he almost blends into the gloom around him. Reid guesses he’s about thirteen or so. His vision slowly adapts, enough he spots two more figures hiding in the cave.
“I’m Reid.” He figures it’s the best place to start. The least threatening. But the boy before him doesn’t look all that reassured. He has the same tension in him Reid saw in Monica, though less desperate and more sane.
“What do you want?” The kid’s voice shakes. Reid knows the feeling well.
“Nothing.” That much is true. Not from him or his friends. “I just saw the cave and thought I’d check it out.”
He whispers, his voice drifting in the dark. Reid isn’t sure he’ll ever speak above a whisper again. Just in case.
“Milo.” The boy says, grudging and with a scowl on his face. “This is our cave.”
Reid shrugs like he doesn’t care, even though it hurts him, this rejection from his own kind. “Nice of you to share.” He can’t help that parting shot and a part of him hopes it cuts deep.
He eases backward, ready to leave, when the girl comes into the thread of light. “It’s all right,” she whispers back. “You can come in. If you want.”
Reid hesitates. He does want to, very much. Just seeing the three of them together in that sheltered place gives him a feeling of safety. He knows it isn’t smart to let that feeling in, but he can’t help himself. He’s been running for so long.