Chapter 12: Flaming Tree pt.2

CHAPTER 12: FLAMING TREE PT.2

Before handing it off to its rightful owner, I work in the string by slowly pulling it and releasing arrows at incremental distances. Once I have it at full draw, I put another fifty arrows through it, and finally check it over. The limbs are holding, and the string seems fine. I finally deliver it to the grateful man, who starts practicing on the target.

Before starting my spear practice, I sweep away all the wood shavings, and pile up the various wood fragments. I then go through each strike, trying to mimic the full body engagement that Mike showed me the day before.

The sound of Mike's heavy breathing saturates the teepee, and the crackling of the distant fire accents the nightly atmosphere. If my sense of smell wasn’t shot, I’m sure I would never fall asleep in here, several sweat stained men on top of my own stench. Luckily the only thing that makes it through to my abused nose is the smokey scent that rests on all our skin.

Taking my previous days advice, I practice my archery while walking in addition to shooting at a second much more distant target. As soon as I started moving my accuracy dropped back down, but I’m sure this skill will be important in the future.

I promise Lizzy, one day I’ll make a recurve instead of this massive bow. I grumble internally. Those kinds of bows require shaping that I just don’t know how to perform, is it heat related? Water? Brute force? I have no clue.

Step, step, woosh. The arrow flies hitting my 60ft target. Thus marks the end of my archery practice this fine summer day. After the usual lunch I approach my crafting area and for once find myself lost.

The only thing I really need at this point is clothing, which I think Jamie and Watcher are working on. Trying to sort out my thoughts, I start making more wicker baskets. I’m sure I could always use more arrows too, maybe I could try making furniture? But that wouldn’t work with Survival Crafting I assume. With a noncommittal grunt, I continue working until I have five baskets made. I fill them with various bones, feathers, and leather. Three of them alone for different bone types. I then spend the rest of my afternoon chiseling arrow shafts from the smaller pieces of wood I still have access to.

Setting those aside as evening approaches, I take my position for spear training. And to my surprise I am joined by Cody. The guy mimics my stance and follows through the movements Mike taught me.

This behavior follows through to the next day, he practices archery next to me in the morning, followed by crafting in the afternoon, and spearmanship in the evening. He’s stronger than me, and it’s evident in his motions, yet I’m more precise. My arrows are just as accurate, despite my constant flowing movements. And my spear strikes are quick and steady, while his are sharp yet inevitable.

Tonight we both share second watch. It’s my first time doing a watch this late, but Trevor needs the occasional full night's rest and I haven’t done one in a few days. As Cody takes watch, I lie with my back to the ground watching the slightly clouded skies. It’s the first time I’ve seen clouds since we woke up here, and I’m left wondering what the seasons in this world are like.

I watch as the blue moon rises, the deep oceanic light momentarily filling the clearing, before it’s seemingly sucked away. I listen to the forest as the bugs go quiet, not a chirp can be heard. Standing I peer into the darkness that persists despite the moon above. A tap-tap-screech echoes through the trees, as the fire lets out a small pop behind me.

I don’t like this. I glance at Watcher, his spear is drawn and his eyes dart through the distance. We both stand still, listening, waiting. For what, I can only guess. There’s no way this is going to be good.

A whisking sound grows, as if something is pressing through bushes and underbrush. My adrenaline spikes, and the overwhelming scent of smoke fills my nose. I step towards the teepee, with small even strides, never taking my eyes away from the darkness.

I’m almost into the structure when the sound stops. I pause, listening. Tapping, like someone running their fingers on their school desk. Then that too fades. A slow deep chirrrp pierces my ears. I instinctively raise my spear.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

A flash of ruby red, and eight beady eyes grow large. Black carapace smashes against my body and I’m slammed into the side of the teepee. My shoulder throbs and my ribs scream but I force myself into the structure. Black chitinous legs spear through the opening and I scream “Aaaaaahh.”

As my friends awaken I charge. Each step followed by the hiss of pain and a deep warm exhale. Legs twitch, my spear rises, I deflect a limb to the side. With a side step and an upward slash I’m back outside. Spear pierces the spider and my legs slide in the dirt. Its fangs snap shut and I step back out of reach. A leg comes down towards my face, as the spider's other limbs scatter for leverage. I smash the limb aside. It hits the ground with a thud. The fire's light flashes into view as the spider reels back and reveals Cody piercing its abdomen. With an upward jab, the spider loses an eye and I’m making some distance.

A deep roar sounds out behind me and the pounding of feet on dirt herald Big Mike charging the beast. His axe coming up in vertical strike, slamming the house-sized monster back. Cody and I share a glance, then charge in. Resistance meets spear and I feel it give, black oily blood seeps from the wound as I back up. A few more strikes and the beast stops its twitching.

“Fuck!” I yell as the adrenaline leaves my system. I stomp my way into the teepee and lie down. Ignoring all the guys in the process.

“Elizabeth!” Trevor shouts

“What?! Damn it!” I yell back

“Are you wounded?” he asks with that worried look in his eye.

“I’m fine,” I grumble as I turn my back towards the group.

“What’s that about?” Chris asks Trevor

“I don’t know, man. Just leave it,” Trevor says.

——-

I didn’t bother practicing archery, I skipped breakfast, and am throwing all my arrows into my backpack. I strap in my spear, and set my bow next to it. I pull each of the material baskets together. Then start sorting through the reeds. There are thirteen bushels of dried reeds, plus however many ones still drying. I’ll just leave those. Easier to not deal with it.

“Elizabeth, what’s going on?” Trevor approaches me. My lips trembling and mind racing while the frustration eats away at my mind. “Come on, just talk to me,” he says.

I continue working, and soon everything is organized, the only things I won’t be able to move are the grindstone and bench. Which is fine, I didn’t make them anyway. As I step up to the fire, grab my morning rations, and water. Big Mike approaches. For the first time since I’ve seen him he’s covering his lower body. Looks like Cody made him a kilt.

As I go to step around him, I feel a tight grip around my hips, followed by a sharp weightlessness, before I’m pulled against the giant man.

“What the fuck Mike?! Let me go!” I yell at the man. He doesn’t. The frustration turns to anger. I slam my first into his back, kick at his chest, and flail.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you Elizabeth,” the big man says. And I don’t know why, but tears well up. I feel him taking even strides behind the teepee, until we’re alone. “It’s okay. Let it all out,” he says, and I do.

I find myself exhausted, emotionally drained, and clutching Mike's massive arm. At some point he set me down, and we’re both sitting against the frame of the teepee. “….I’m sorry for hitting you….. I don’t know what came over me,” I tell him, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You hit me? Must have been in my sleep, since I didn’t notice,” he says with that goofy grin. I shove him slightly. “It’s fine. Just maybe let the rest of us know what all’s going through that pretty little head of yours,” he elicits an eye roll from me.

“I don’t know….. it’s like, I keep feeling like this place is safe, like it’s home…” I say as I wipe the drying tears from my eyes.

“And it isn’t safe,” he states.

“Yeah…I’ve watched two men die already, and I hardly even knew them. I don’t want to watch all of you die too…” I say.

“So you were just going to leave?” he asks.

I shrink into myself a bit. “Kind of…. Yeah…I don’t want to stay in this clearing, and the group is split on what to do, and I just can’t stay here and watch everyone die,” I admit.

“Well, how about we go talk to the group, maybe their opinion has changed since last night,” he says.

I squirm a little at the prospect of standing in front of them after my behavior. “Okay…” I hesitantly respond.

“Okay,” his voice reverberates as he pulls me to my feet. My arms stay wrapped around his, as we make our way to the group.

They look at us expectantly, settling on staring at me. A heat spreads across my chest and face, and a slight tingly sensation over my scalp.

“….Hey everyone… I’m sorry for my behavior….I just….I’m afraid if we stay here, we’re going to die..” I find my stride. “I don’t want to see any of us die, and I should have spoken to you all about it. I just don’t feel like we can stay here,” I say, barely able to make eye contact with the group.

“Apology accepted,” Trevor says immediately after I finish speaking. “And I agree with you, I don’t want to stay here either. I’m glad you decided to talk to the group though,” he says kindly.

“I changed my mind too. I don’t want to see any of you die either,” Jamie says without a single stutter.

“So is everyone in favor of leaving?” Trevor asks.

Earning raised hands from everyone, himself included. “Okay, let’s take the day to pack up. We should probably find a way to take the bigger tools while we’re at it,” he finishes.