Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SOFIA
B y the time the shadows started to lengthen once more, Sofia still didn’t recognize the rainforest around them. At least she had found some fruit and nuts to eat throughout their hike, but they hadn’t run into a cenote or water source beyond the leaves of trees. She was thirsty and hungry and her muscles felt like lead from a lack of sleep. Ocon wasn’t doing much better.
In part, it was her fault for letting him eat the second mushrooms he’d found. They weren’t poisonous, but they needed to be cooked to be truly edible and she knew they’d give him a stomachache. She didn’t want him to die, but she didn’t promise she’d make this trek comfortable. If it wasn’t for him, she’d be back at the base right now, warm and fed.
Her stomach turned. Or perhaps she wouldn’t. She’d be back in the city, homeless, jobless. She shook the thoughts away, nails biting into her palms.
No matter what, she needed to get back to the base with a breathing Ocon. She needed to prove to Micael that she could follow orders and toe the line. Perhaps she’d even be allowed to stay after all the trouble.
“We should stop for the night,” she said, noting the small clearing up ahead.
“Tired, oh captor of mine?”
“You’ve tripped over the last three roots, so don’t pretend you’re not.” She barely looked at him as she inspected the area with a satisfied nod. It wasn’t much of a clearing, but it was wide enough to accommodate them and a fire, the trees arching overhead to protect them from the elements. They’d be safer in a cave or a cenote, but she hadn’t seen a hint of either since they’d started out that morning. “I’m going to go hunt for some food before it gets darker. Try to find us some water or fruit if you can manage.”
Without another word, she left, taking her bag of supplies with her. It would be harder to hunt with the daggers and bag weighing her down, but she wasn’t going to leave them with Ocon. She almost wondered, as she walked away, if he’d be in the clearing when she returned. Perhaps he’d take this moment to run. Not that he’d have any idea where he was going. Not that she did either, though he didn’t know that.
The trees in this part of the rainforest were larger and farther apart, but the underbrush was thick with bushes, brambles, and vines. There wasn’t enough time to lay snares. She’d just need to find somewhere to wait the animals out. With night approaching, the crepuscular creatures would be waking and venturing from their homes to hunt their own meals.
She found a promising-looking bush with some holes dug in the ground beneath it and set herself on a low branch as far away as she could get without losing her line of sight. And she waited with the patience she only ever had when she was hunting. For the first time in cycles, she felt her focus going fuzzy as she crouched, eyes burning and heavy, neck barely strong enough to hold up her head. She pinched her wrist to keep herself awake, over and over again as the sun set and the world went gray. There were a line of small red marks across her arm by the time she saw the first signs of movement from the bush. Careful to keep the daggers on her waist from making a sound, she raised her bow, fingers pulling back the string and eyes focused on the small brown rabbit as it snuffled out of its hole.
She continued to wait until the next rabbit came—slightly bigger than the first—and then she let her arrow fly. It was a smaller target than she was used to, but the arrow still sliced across its side, drawing a large slash of blood. The other rabbit ran, its partner attempting to follow, but it stumbled, body half-limp with impending death. She didn’t let herself feel the guilt as she caught up to it and broke its neck, ending its fear.
She traced her way back to the clearing, following the marks she’d made in the dirt on her way to hunt. When she broke through the last few bushes and Ocon sat in the clearing, she was almost surprised to see him. As she stepped on a pile of dead leaves, he jumped, swiveling around with a small log clasped in his hands. She only raised an eyebrow as he grimaced and turned away, going back to his attempt at lighting a fire.
He’d gathered an assortment of twigs and branches in front of him and had even created a small pile of wood shavings, but without a flint, he’d taken to a method that Sofia had only read about in books. He rolled a twig between his hands, attempting to create enough heat to spark a flame.
“Is that all you caught?” he asked, eyeing the rabbit hanging from her hand, not pausing his task.
“Do you want to try and do better?” she asked, throwing the dead animal beside him and watching his attempts at lighting the fire. If she wasn’t so cold and hungry, she might have just let him continue to flail. But at this rate, they’d be there all night waiting for the wood to heat and spark.
“Do you know how to skin and prep the meat?” she asked after another minute of watching him struggle with the fire.
The wince told her everything, but she still dropped the small knife next to him.
“Drain it, slice across its back to take off the fur, and then gut it through the belly.”
He sneered, looking at the dead creature as though it might jump up and attack him. “I’m making the fire.”
“Not fast enough,” she said, snatching the branch from his hands and throwing it into the pile with the rest. “I know you’re not squeamish around death, Ocon. So go ahead.”
She shoved him sideways and began to carefully rearrange the wood for the fire, clearing a larger area on the ground and digging into the dirt with a branch to make a small pit. With the lack of rain, the last thing they needed was to start a wildfire out here. She stacked the twigs neatly before pulling out the flint from her bag and piling the leaves beneath the wood. Ocon stared at her, unmoving, but she did her best to ignore him.
“You could have told me you had a flint,” he said, voice flat.
She didn’t hide her smirk. “Unless you want to eat that with the hair on, I’d get started.”
He moved at last, rolling up his sleeves with practiced fingers. His forearm muscles flexed and the black dagger inked into his inner arm rippled subtly with every twitch of his fingers. Her eyes flickered up to his face, though he was seemingly unaware of her examination.
Her jaw clenched. She watched long enough to see him flip the rabbit and shove the tip of the knife into its neck before she turned back to the fire. She hated preparing animals just as much as he seemed to, but if she was going to share the meat, he was putting in some work, and she was all too glad to pass on the bloody task.
By the time he had done a passable job of preparing her kill, the fire was hot. She showed him how to use rocks to lay out the meat on the edge of the fire to cook it.
“You live in the city,” he said. The words weren’t a question, but he looked at her as if trying to understand something.
“Yes,” she said, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. If he was trying to make small talk, she was going to slap him.
“And you know how to do all this.”
“Yes.”
“How often can you possibly find yourself out here needing to hunt to eat?”
She looked at him, this time the one analyzing him. There was such a genuineness and openness in his face that she blinked. “I’ve been hunting to feed my family since I was young. The moment there’s a food shortage, we’re the first to lose rations.”
“Only those who don’t do hard labor,” he said, shaking his head.
She looked at him, trying to understand. “And what exactly would you describe as hard labor? From the age of six, I was working ten hour days cleaning out literal shit, walking the hour to and from the slums to get there.”
She might have suspected guilt passing over his face had he not immediately sneered. “Well, you look like you’ve been plenty fed.”
“I’d like to remind you who caught the rabbit,” she snapped, picking at her cuticles as she watched the meat cooking. “I might change my mind about sharing.”
She wouldn’t, though. As much as it pained her, she knew they had a few days’ travel at least until they made it back to the base, and she wasn’t going to listen to him whine and complain. Additionally, it was clear he was nearly helpless without her when it came to forest survival skills. She didn’t understand what the army was even teaching its soldiers.
But at least the comment shut him up.
They ate their rabbit and the anemic mangoes Ocon had found in silence. Even Sofia was unsure if their reticence to talk was because of their dislike of each other or their first warm meal in days. She wasn’t anywhere near full when she finished off the last bite, sucking on the mango’s pit until there was nothing left of the sour pulp, but her stomach wasn’t aching as it had been before, and her tongue didn’t feel like sandpaper anymore.
Ocon appeared to be savoring the gamey meat and sour fruit just as much as she was, licking the last bit of juices from his fingers in a way she doubted polite society would approve of.
“We should take turns sleeping,” he said when he saw her looking, quickly wiping his hands on his pants, as if she might be judging.
“Sure. I’ll go first.”
“I’m not tired,” he said. “I can take the first shift.”
“You look like you’re barely keeping your head up straight.”
“You don’t look any better than me.”
She knew he had a point, but the idea of lying down and closing her eyes with him so close made her stomach turn.
“Fine,” she finally said, not bothering to move farther from the fire. She made sure the weapons were all in her bag and tucked it into her chest before winding her arms around it. “Wake me up when you get tired.”
“Of course,” he said in a tone that clearly read: not going to happen because I don’t trust you either . She just shrugged him off, lying down wrapped around her bag, eyes focused on him.
He stared back at her, lips turned down in a scowl.
She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, long enough that Ocon had to add a log to the fire a few times. After the third log, he laid down, facing her from across the flickering flames. She felt the tremor in her own body as he wrapped the cloak around himself. Her shawl just covered her shoulders and the thin leggings she wore weren’t keeping her warm, even next to the fire. She wasn’t cold enough to ask for help, though.
Time drifted like fog as they both struggled to stay awake, each second dragging heavier as the night went on. Until at some point, between one blink and another, the fire had gone out and the clearing had turned dark. Her body shuddered with the cold, skin icy beneath her clothes. Split between the choice of getting up to restart the fire or stealing his cloak and hoping he was a deep sleeper, there wasn’t much choice. So she moved quietly in the darkness, barely able to see in front of her. The night blooming flowers that had lit their way previously were closed and Sofia had to wonder if they, too, were hiding from the frigid wind blowing down from the mountains.
It wasn’t until she returned with a small pile of twigs that felt dry enough to burn that Sofia noticed the emptiness of the clearing. The remnants of the evening fire were dark shadows against the night, but nothing—no one—was nearby. Ocon was gone.
As if her sudden awareness of her solitude had summoned it, a sound echoed in the woods behind her—the snapping of twigs under foot.