SAFE (11 page)

The
dog came trotting back into the area with a small fish hanging out each side of
her mouth. I rubbed her head as she sat beside me and began tearing the fish
apart. I stood up and gathered my dry clothes off the ground, then put my boots
back on. After a few seconds more, James appeared through the trees.

“Hey
Penny,” is all he said.

“Are
you hungry? I still have some more stuff in my pack—”

“Lucan
gave me some rabbit,” he replied.

“Okay.”

The
awkward silence was worse than what the bomb caused as it exploded at the
perimeter. Thankfully, Lucan broke up my uncomfortable, meager attempt at a
conversation. “Hey, are you both ready?” he asked.

“Sure,”
I replied. My ankle felt close to completely healed and I opted to walk, even
though I knew it would’ve been better for me not to.

I walked, more like hobbled, in long strides, trying
to keep the weight off my left foot. To my surprise, I was doing well. However,
I still slowed the group down. Luckily, the guys were nice enough not to
complain, at least aloud, and I only heard a grunt escape from James’ lips
every now and then. Along the route, Lucan found a long stick and broke off a
portion at the top, making it a perfect height for a cane. That helped some.
Now, besides looking like a hobbling idiot, the cane finished the ensemble and
I looked like Mrs. Rice, an old lady who lived down the street from me. My
parents called on her to babysit many times when I was growing up and I always
waited until she fell asleep to sneak more food out of the kitchen. The only
sign she was fast asleep was when her cane fell to the ground during her short
rest
on the couch. I’d run over and move the cane down a tad, just far enough out of
easy reach. I realize now that was sort of mean, but at the time I thought it
was hilarious. Then I’d run into the kitchen. One time I found the jackpot, a
tiny piece of chocolate. It was something that was rationed every year. However,
this one was small, half eaten, and whichever parent stashed it had long
forgotten about it. It was mine. As I snorted out loud from the memory, Lucan turned
around and raised his eyebrows as if I was going crazy.

Shortly
after, we heard the sound of rushing water and James ran ahead, leaving Lucan and
me behind. When we finally caught up, what I saw wasn’t the ocean. Instead, it
resembled closer to the size and fast currents of a river. The water tumbled
over itself, splashing into every inch as it tumbled over the next. I looked down,
trying to see if there was a way around, but it curved on for miles. Too wide
to hike around, so we agreed to cross. This time I asked James for help.

Slowly,
he sauntered over to me without saying a word. He bent down with another grunt as
I climbed on his back. It took all my strength to hold on once he became waist
deep and let go of my legs, using his arms to balance. I felt his muscles
tighten along his neck and his speedy steps became more cautious with every
move against the current, the slippery rocks not making his job any easier. I managed
to look behind. The dog struggled and was falling further down stream.

“Lucan!”
I yelled. “Help her!”

Lucan
was already ahead of us, near to the other side, but he turned around and steadied
himself with the current, letting it drag him towards the dog. In less than a
minute, he reached her, just as her snout began dipping under the glossy surface.

Once
James finally reached the embankment, he lowered me to the ground. I hobbled
over to the dog and patted her back while she coughed up the river.

Lucan
pulled out his bag of water, unscrewed the spout, and dipped it into the edge
of the current. The bag expanded as water flowed in.

Afterwards,
we immediately began our hike, not taking anytime to rest.

“Do you guys smell that?” Lucan asked. He stopped in
the midst of trekking through overgrown bushes and covered his nose with his
hand. “The odor is repulsive. It smells like a… like a dead animal. Like a hundred
dead animals.” He pulled his shirt up, covering half his face like a bandit. Right
then, a strong wind blew in our direction and immediately my nostrils filled
with the horrid stench he complained about. He was right. There was definitely
something dead and rotting ahead.

“Maybe
we should go around it, whatever it is,” I suggested.

“You’re
scared of a few dead animals, Ms. Science?” James asked, finally making a joke
and easing the tension between us.

Maybe
there is hope yet.
“Ha-ha,” I said. “No. I just don’t feel
like getting any closer to the source. It is making me want to puke.”

“If
you ask me,” Lucan jumped in. “The smell is strong. We’ll probably reach and
pass through it quicker than if we try to mosey around it.”

I
let out a sigh and hunched my back. “I know.” I wasn’t happy about it, but he
was probably right. “Let’s go.”

More
overgrown bushes and trees blocked our path, still heading north, and thorny
vines tugged at my shirt, causing a few snagging holes. Lucan swung a large
knife, from his duffel, at the heap of thorny vines, helping clear our path. I carefully
guided through the oversized, prickly, thorns poking in our direction. Once we
cleared the area, I noticed a small glimmer through a mess of dirt. One single
ray of sunshine lit up the tree and its surroundings, flickering against a
metallic object in the ground.

“Hold
up,” I said. I walked over and bent down, brushing the dirt off with my hands,
revealing a corner of something red. The rest of the object was still buried
beneath the dirt.

“It
must’ve washed up from the storm.” I began digging with my fingernails around
the red edge, tugging, pulling, and scraping the dirt away. I wasn’t getting far
and Lucan and James didn’t help. Instead, they stared on with bizarre
expressions plastered to their faces. “Geez guys, thanks.”

“It’s
just a piece of trash,” Lucan replied.

I
looked to the side, found a thick piece of bark, and banged it against the
tree. It didn’t break so I used it as a shovel.
Much better.

I
tugged one more time on the red object and out slid a dirty, beat-up octagon
with the faded, white words STOP etched in the center.

“Oh
my!” I yelled. A shiver of excitement ran down my spine, escaping through my fingertips.

“What?”
James asked, suddenly curious. “Looks like an old sign.”

“Ya,
but not from home. It’s from
before
. You know before the old Land shook
to pieces from the quakes. Don’t either of you remember reading about it in
History class?” My hands felt tiny around the large red sign—a forgotten piece
of treasure.

“I
didn’t go to your school,” Lucan replied.

“And
I didn’t really pay much attention,” James added.

“Well,
you two, this is incredible.” The science nerd in me clearly made itself
visible. “A long time ago, the earth held multiple, gigantic pieces of lands
called continents.” I was positive the guys at least knew this, but just in
case… “People used multiple resources for energy, the main ones, and the one
guessed to have caused multiple chains of earthquakes and sinkholes, were the
dams. Every continent had hundreds of dams, using them to provide what they
thought was safe, electronic energy. However, they miscalculated the amount of pressure
caused by the water. Each dam placed enormous amounts of weight on the tectonic
plates underneath and thus caused the quakes that destroyed… well, everything.
If you didn’t die from being buried underneath the devastation of fallen
buildings, highways, and other manmade crap, and if you didn’t fall into the
large crevices as the continents tore apart, then you were still left to
survive a series of explosions and fires. There were survivors of course, but
the population had nearly been depleted. And then if you still lucked out
enough to be alive, at that point you had to find refuge on a military vessel
or any large boat willing to take you out to sea until the smoke and fires
starved themselves out. That’s when our great-grandparents settled here on our
Land. This is a sign from way back before all that happened.” I looked up, finishing
my brief flashback. James stared at me, eyes glossed over, and Lucan picked at
a fresh sore on his hand.

“That’s
great, really it is, but none of that matters now. Besides, the smell is still
awful.” Lucan covered his nose with his shirt again as another strong breeze
passed through the trees.

I
rolled my eyes and stood up, a tad embarrassed by my rant. We didn’t have the option
of carrying the sign with us and even I knew it wouldn’t do us any good lugging
it around, so I left it behind. Lucan cut more shrubs and prickly bushes, and
James chunked the debris out to the side.

“Watch
out. There’s a massive ant pile,” Lucan warned as he walked around the mound,
larger than anything I’d ever seen before. The ant home must’ve been record
high, tip pointing as tall as my shoulder and the width even larger. James and
I carefully stepped around the death trap.

“I
bet the ants inside are ginormous,” I said, gazing at thousands of large holes
poking into the mound.

Ahead,
the foliage became thicker and Lucan tossed James a knife. They both began chopping
vines and branches, clearing the pathway much faster. Squawking sounds filled the
air and dozens of birds flew in a circle further ahead. It didn’t take a genius
to realize why they were circling in the sky—we were about to locate the source
of the decayed stench.

The
moment James and Lucan chopped another section from our path, an open field appeared,
knee-high golden grass covering the ground, swaying in the breeze. A few trees still
stood between us and the field.

Another
strong wind blew our direction.

“E-e-w-w.”
Vomit climbed its way up my throat in reaction to the smell and I swallowed it
back down. The odor became worse and I puked to the side. “There goes my
breakfast,” I muttered. I wiped my mouth and covered my nose. “What—Is—That?”

The
shrilling sounds from hundreds of birds penetrated my hearing, making it hard
to listen. The shrieking dominated all my other senses, except for smell, which
I desperately wanted to turn off. Meters ahead of me, a dozen gigantic birds
hunched over—vultures. And beside the ones in the sky, I knew they couldn’t be
the only birds causing such a horrid monstrous noise. There had to be more. But
where?

I
realized the vultures on the ground were standing around the edge of an
oversized hole, hundreds of feet in diameter. The tall grass made it hard to
notice at first. “What could be so big to fill up that entire grave?” My
curiosity, in a bad way, outweighed my other senses. My mom’s voice in my head
screamed,
Turn back, go around, leave the field alone. Don’t look inside!

Why
would anyone need to bury something so far away from the perimeter? And who had
the authorization to be out here?

“Penny,
maybe you should let us look first,” James suggested and Lucan agreed.

As
much as I wanted to forget this whole moment altogether, I needed to face
whatever was in that hole. I didn’t want there to be any more secrets and I was
done being in the dark. I felt the guys thought of me as a piece of glass, capable
of breaking with the slightest amount of pressure.

But
I wasn’t. And I was just as strong as either one of them, vines or not.

“No,
I need to see.” I pushed ahead, shoved my shoulders between them, and walked straight
towards the hole.

I
was a mere twenty steps away from seeing what was inside.

Now
fifteen
.

Thirteen

Twelve

Eleven

My
body was numb and my hearing silent. My breathing slowed and the only sound I heard
was my heartbeat. I tried focusing but with every thump of my heart, the
pressure pushed through my ear, as if my cheek was pressed against my own chest.

Ten

Nine

Eight

Seven

Six

Five

Four

Three

Two

Nothing could’ve prepared me. Nauseous didn’t begin
to cover the treacherous feeling clawing at my stomach. At first appearance,
the hole looked filled with a black and brown sea of birds, wing to wing
filling every gap, pecking away. However, blood covered their long, skinny
necks inside the horrid mess. I launched my body over and threw up multiple times
into the black pit.

A
gunshot rang out, loud, but the birds didn’t move.

Lucan
shot again, and again, and again.

Finally,
the birds startled enough and took flight out of the bloody hole, landing in
the open field around us, waiting for when they could feast again.

Lucan
went limp and fell to his knees. I stood in horror, not believing what I saw.

Children’s
bodies piled on top of one another—covered with dirt and blood. Hollow holes in
place of where their eyes should have been, pecked out by the birds, pieces of flesh
torn and tossed around. It was a massive grave and the bodies had been thrown
in without any decency or human kindness. From what I could see on the top
layer were seven adults with babies lying near them, mixed with a handful of young
kids and teenagers. Nobody had vines except for the adults.

I
looked over at Lucan, who was sobbing uncontrollably. Tears dripped from his
cheeks wildly to the ground and his fingers clutched angrily into the earth.

“Did
you know them?” I cried, sickened by the image burned in my head.

“Yes,
a few,” he replied through tears.

“It
couldn’t be.” I didn’t want to accept what I was seeing and examined their
faces from up top. On the right in between two bodies, I saw one face which
looked familiar, but a tad older than the picture I had seen. A row of beads laid
in a tangled mess around his neck and each letter of his name had been
intricately carved out of wood. The letters J-A-C-E rested in blood. It was
Jace. Sidnee’s Jace.