Taking Flight (13 page)

“Take this thing off,” she said, trying to shake her head out of the blindfold. Marcus untied it and her hands, rubbing her wrists to get the circulation going.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking concerned, and Deborah realized she was shaking. She glanced at Birch and Hazel who suddenly looked like vultures to her, ready to pluck away at her gift and take it for their own. Despite the generosity they had shared, she could only see the change now and she panicked.

“I just need a moment. That was pretty intense for me.” She forced a smile at her audience, then pulled Marcus away a little. “We need to get out of here.”

“What? You’re crazy,” Marcus whispered, but it wasn’t gentle and Deborah’s panic rose, imagining he had turned cold too. “This is what we wanted, Debs.”

“Celeste, what’s wrong?” Birch loomed toward them and Deborah swallowed hard, trying to keep a lid on the terror that now threatened to engulf her.

“Nothing, I just need to pee or something.” She edged away and made eyes at Marcus. “Come on,” she hissed under her breath, and relief sank through her when she saw his kind eyes acquiesce.

“I’ll come with you.” Marcus took her arm in a firm, reassuring grip. “I’m suddenly desperate.” He turned to Birch and Hazel with a nonchalant shrug. “Won’t be a minute.”

They started their walk, Deborah knowing this was it, they had to leave, when Birch sprang in front of them.

“What’s all this?” His expression was hard as glass and Deborah actually cowered. “You’re not thinking of doing anything stupid, are you?”

“Come on, mate,” Marcus reasoned. “We’re just going for a pee.”

“I don’t think so.” He took hold of Marcus, who pushed Deborah away to the cover of bushes. There was a scuffle and Marcus was suddenly on the floor bleeding and Deborah was pinned to a tree by Hazel.

“Hazel, I-I don’t understand,” Deborah pleaded, but Hazel’s face was stricken.

“Do you know how long we’ve been practising? You stole ultimate unity from us.” Hazel’s eyes were wild and glaring and Deborah knew the woman was mad. Her yearning had tipped her over the edge of sanity, and Deborah was scared. “I want it back. You stole it!”

“I didn’t
steal it
! Just because we didn’t know what it was called doesn’t mean we didn’t do it before we met you.”

An absolute silence filled the air and Hazel stared at Deborah. “You fucking stole it. And I
will
have it back.” A piercing shriek cracked the air and Hazel flew at her, limbs flailing chaotically, like a broken bird of prey. Deborah heard a smack, then felt a sting to her cheekbone before blackness.

* * * *

When Deborah came to, she and Marcus were tied together back to back on the forest floor. Deborah retched as she thought about what might have happened to them but Marcus managed to find her hand and squeeze it.

“It’s all right,” he said soothingly, as if reading her mind. “I got her off you. Nothing happened except being tied up.”

Deborah craned her neck to see if she could see the crazy couple. “Where are they?”

“I’m not sure. They went off about ten minutes ago. I heard them talking to someone in the bushes over there but they’ve been quiet for a while now. I think this might be our only chance to leave.” He shuffled about. “Are you hurt? Do you think you can stand up?”

Deborah wriggled her legs. They felt shaky but okay. “I’m fine. Push against me.”

They both took the strain then pressed their backs together hard, lifting up slowly until they were both standing. Well, Deborah was standing, but because she was so tiny, Marcus’s knees were still bent. If he tried to straighten them he would lift her off the ground, causing the ropes to tighten so she couldn’t breathe.

“We’ll have to shuffle until we find a knife or something,” she said, sweat beginning to drip from her forehead. Where their backs joined was wet and sticky, causing friction when they tried to move.

Using all their concentration, the couple shuffled and bumped their way to a thick bush. Deborah could have cried as they collapsed in a heap just inside it, relieved to have found cover. As she searched along the bindings for a knot to untie, she heard a stick crack near the bush. Birch’s thick laugh jolted her.

“Well, look at you two. All ready to escape.” He laughed a sickening, condescending laugh again.

“Please, Birch, please, just let us go.” Tears streamed down Deborah’s cheeks as defeat drew closer. “Come on, Birch, you’re not a bad person, you don’t need to do this.”

His expression changed. Deborah held her breath, thinking maybe she had got through to him.

“It’s all right, Celeste,” he said evenly. “We know we can’t make you share your gift with us. I’m sorry it got a bit crazy back there. It’s just we’ve been waiting for so long. We do everything required, but still, we don’t have it.”

Deborah slumped back into Marcus, letting relief wash over her. She knew he’d let them go. “You will, Birch. You’ll reach it one day.”

He looked off into the trees for a long time, his expression soft, and Deborah thought it was the right moment to negotiate their freedom.

“Can we go now, Birch?” she said in the softest, most soothing voice she could muster and was astonished when he turned to her with the same grizzly laugh.

“Let you go?” He came so close to Deborah’s face she could smell his rotting teeth. She recoiled. “Don’t be silly,” he crooned, smoothing her hair. “We never had any intention of letting you go.” He stood up straight and laughed haughtily. “Denva!” he called, making Deborah’s blood stop in her veins. “You can have ’em. We’re done here.”

Chapter 14

Deborah was stricken with panic, and she groped and scratched with her nails until she found Marcus’s fingers and gripped them tight. She was disgusted by the sneer on Denva’s face and, worse, the realization that their friends had betrayed them.
But they seemed so genuine
was the thought that kept circling around and around in her mind. They had been so good to her and Marcus, teaching them skills to survive in the forest, sharing tales and spirituality. She just couldn’t come to terms with this sudden and brutal betrayal.

Denva tied more rope into their bindings and hauled them both upright. Deborah squinted into the undergrowth until she saw the couple scurrying off.

“What did you get for us, Birch?” she yelled, her voice cracking with fury. “An extra fucking bar of chocolate?” Her hair was stuck to her face, and she shook it off and spat on the floor at Denva’s feet.

Birch and Hazel never looked back as they slunk off through the trees.

Deborah wanted to hurt them; she scrambled about, trying to shake off her bonds. “That’s it, just fuck off back to your camp, you fucking hippies. You’ll never reach your precious ultimate unity with your dead, dark hearts.”

She was screeching and mewling, barely coherent now as she struggled, still clutching Marcus’s hands. He was so quiet. Deborah craned her neck back to see him but was rewarded with a hard tug on the rope which sent them stumbling to the ground.

“Not very ladylike, are you?” Denva snarled. His lip curled back to expose blackened teeth and furred tongue. She gagged at the sight.

She felt degraded, desperate, and humiliated, and above all that, she was angry with Marcus for not defending her honor. Why was he silent when this idiot was abusing her so? Dread lurched through her, filling her with fear ten times stronger than that she’d just experienced. Marcus had given up. He’d plain stopped believing they could do this.

She retched as the weight of their predicament, along with Marcus’s bulk, pressed down on her. As she shuffled about she realized Denva had slipped away, having deftly tied the excess rope around a tree. It was as though he hadn’t been there at all, creepy little man. She sighed, her breath catching on the beginning of a sob, but she determinedly sniffed it away.

“Come on, Marcus, please,” she pleaded, nudging him with her backside and elbows. “Pull yourself together.”

She couldn’t believe he’d give up just like that. It was only when his head lolled back against hers awkwardly that she realized he was unconscious.

She bucked and thrashed and shouted to try and rouse him. “Marcus!” she screamed, utterly believing this would be their only chance for escape. Had he been drugged?

She managed to shove him off her a little so they were now lying back to back on the ground. Pulling her stomach in as tightly as she could, she managed to wriggle up just enough to restore her hope that she might be able to get out. It was hot, tiring work and Deborah couldn’t distinguish a second from an hour. The only indication that time was passing steadily was the birds beginning their twilight singing as early evening gloom descended over the forest. Or maybe they’d been here for days? How could Deborah tell if she had been conscious this whole time?

Banishing the thought with an almighty grimace, she tensed every muscle in her body and squeezed the ropes down over her hips, raking and burning her flesh as she did. But it worked. Pushing down lower, she bent her knees awkwardly and pulled them free. When she was out, she dragged Marcus onto his back and he flopped like a corpse at her feet. As she shook him, his hair fell to the side to reveal an oozing lump on his forehead the size and color of a ripe plum. She leaned in, terrified, and checked for breath against her cheek. It was there, soft and steady, as if he were sleeping. Deborah cried onto his chest in relief. She hadn’t realized how scared she’d been until she’d heard that breath.

“Debs?” Marcus blinked and shook his head as Deborah was untying him.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” she said, smoothing his hair out of his eyes as he tentatively fingered the angry bump on his scalp.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, but she could see memories dawning before he’d even finished the sentence. “That fucking Birch!” He folded his legs under himself and made to rise, but quickly stumbled off balance, rubbing his face and blinking.

“It’s all right, come on, relax.” Deborah would have loved nothing more than to find their betrayers and smack their faces, but it was plain to see Marcus was in no state to even stand, let alone avenge their capture.

She laid him back against a smooth tree trunk and tried to mop up the blood now seeping into his hair, desperately trying to formulate a plan. They had nothing. She’d been practically naked when they’d come to the clearing and all their belongings were back at the camp. She had no idea when or if Denva would be back for them, but she knew they needed to get their things. They wouldn’t survive three days out there without at least a blanket and camping knife.

“Listen, Marcus. You stay here and try to get yourself together, I’m going back to get our stuff.”

Marcus made motions to stop her, but it was clear to see his head was killing him.

“Don’t speak,” she soothed as his mouth opened and closed feebly. “It’s okay. I’ll be back soon.”

But he reached out insistently with shaking hands, urging Deborah to lean in and listen to what he had to say. With trembling lips, he managed to force out a raspy whisper.

“If we part ways—” he started, but Deborah pressed a finger to his lips. She didn’t want to hear it; speaking it might make it true.

He pushed her hand from his face and held it at his chest, his woozy gaze fixed on hers.

“Deborah, if we part ways, I’ll find you. I’ll find you at the meeting point. Do everything you can to come. We are more than the physical.”

Deborah stifled a sob as his grip on her hand went slack. He was exhausted. She tried to reply to his speech but in the end all she could manage was a tiny nod. She made him as comfortable as she could and warned him against falling asleep, though she could see his eyes struggling to stay open. Kissing him softly at the corner of his mouth, she crept away.

Using a mixture of instinct and sheer dumb luck, she found her way back to the camp. The familiar fire was roaring but the place seemed empty. Deborah picked her steps carefully through the undergrowth, thankful at last for her small frame.

As she reached the back of the makeshift home, she could hear the unmistakable grunts and squeals of Birch and Hazel having sex right there in her and Marcus’s tent! Letting out a silent shriek of fury, she clenched her fists until her nails dug in. Now what? She stole away as quietly as she could to the crazy couple’s shelter, tiptoeing cautiously in bare feet.

Their home was disheveled and grubby, the complete opposite of what she had expected. Rifling through her captors’ belongings was oddly soothing and she made sure to leave the place just as untidy as they’d left it. Grabbing what she could and stuffing it into a moth-eaten canvas bag, Deborah began to feel thrilled at the prospect of going on the run again with her Marcus. Fugitives. It was so romantic. Now that she was sure they could find ultimate unity together, it gave her a sense of comfort, like they were almost invincible. Smiling to herself in the musty darkness, she spotted Birch’s good knife glinting in the faint evening light, just in the doorway. Grabbing it, she was satisfied she had all she needed and stole out back into the night.

Passing her old tent, she hissed a silent curse on Birch and Hazel.
May you never meet in your precious ultimate unity.
She felt evil yet justified.

Buoyed up by her successful bounty hunting, she breezed through the undergrowth, fantasizing about the new adventures she and Marcus would have together. It must have been the adrenalin, but she was also feeling aroused. She smiled and continued back to her lover. Maybe they could find somewhere to make love before they got fully on their way. She scurried on until she came to the clearing.

“Marcus,” she called out in a whisper, desperate to share her excitement. “Marcus?”

Deftly rummaging in the bag, she identified the items she had grabbed in the dark. The knife, a blanket, a small plastic sheet, candles, matches—she smiled ironically, recalling the big show Birch had made of using tinder and flint—and one last thing...Birch’s entire stash of chocolate. They would eat the lot tonight, she thought, and broke a bit off as an appetizer.