Chapter 18 #2
Atlas leads us on the trail, and I grip the straps of my backpack as the incline of the mountain cuts into my calves.
With my hair hidden beneath a baseball cap, the heat doesn’t help, and it’s a relief to be wearing an oversized T-shirt while we all left our jackets in the cabin.
I trudge behind Zeke with Leon at the rear, and with each inhale, I release how anosmic I have grown within the cement walls.
The scent of the Wilds is beautifully overpowering, but not sickening.
The sharp pine, the sweet grass, and the pleasing aroma of pollen enticing insects into the flowers.
It feels as if I’m taking a vacation from the city—because its absence doesn’t quite feel real yet.
The supple moss beneath my boots helps keep a bounce in my step, and while I’m surrounded by such sights, I don’t believe any incline or distance could tire me.
My fathers taught me many things, but I had never learnt to forage beyond basic fruit trees and berries—if that even counts.
So, I gawk across the forest floor, surprised every time the treasures are revealed to me.
Atlas spots most of the items with a simple, silent point, while Zeke collects them, dropping them into our backpacks.
I can’t help the curiosity that seeps out through questions.
Zeke and Leon are happy to tell me about the mushrooms, which prefer to hide at the shady bases of trees, and how to detect the edible plants, but Atlas remains tight-lipped.
We walk beside a stream, and I’m drawn to the clear water gliding over the coppery pebbles, leading us to the top of our climb.
The still lake we encounter perfectly mirrors the emerald trees and sapphire skies, creating a stunning duplication of the surrounding beauty.
It’s as if I’m seeing the scene twice, once in reality and again in the water’s reflection, like a portal to another world.
The guys continue to forage, but I’m stuck in the break in the trees, mesmerised.
“Hey, kid?!” Leon shouts, and when I hesitate to move, he joins me. “Were you a city kid?”
“No… No, I grew up in the Wilds. I guess I just forgot how beautiful it is. I don’t want to leave it again.” I grip my backpack’s straps as he bumps my arm with his knuckles.
“Well, let’s hope you never have to. We can take a break if you want to get in.” He points at the lake.
I scoff at the suggestion. “Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to hold you guys up.”
He waves dismissively. “Don’t worry. Watch this.” He turns towards the others. “Hey, guys! We’re going to take a break, if anyone wants to take a dip.” He whips his head back to me and whispers, “Guess which one will get in the water first!”
He holds my gaze, smiling smugly as his finger points behind him, following Zeke galloping out of the bushes. He strides into the water, leaping in with a splash before reappearing with an echoing, “Whoooooo! That’s cold!”
My chest rumbles with laughter while Leon runs, dumping his backpack and kicking off his boots to join him. I stand at the water’s edge, watching as they wrestle, Leon lifting and slamming Zeke below the surface, only for him to pull Leon’s feet out from beneath him.
The clatter of pebbles distracts me as Atlas comes to stand at my side. He silently offers his hand, full of plump blackberries, and since it is the first step he has ever made in communicating, I dare not refuse the offer.
“Thank you. Are you going in?” I pop a berry in my mouth, letting out a whimper as it explodes with a sour sting and softens with a sweetness.
“No… I’m not in the mood.” He picks through the berries. “But you can go in. I’ll keep watch.” His cheek lifts slightly—not enough to define a smile, but given his usual sombre stare, it almost looks like a grin.
The alluring water moves like fluid glass, and the ripples grow to reach the lake’s edge.
I slip off my boots, dropping my hat and backpack to the ground where I stand.
The hard pebbles afflict the soles of my feet, but stepping into the icy shallows numbs the discomfort.
I look back at Atlas, stood eating berries and waving his fingers to shoo me on.
I wade in, every inch deeper, quivering my breath before I drop my legs, letting the water bathe me.
Emerging, I stretch my arms and glide through the lake.
I float on my back, staring at the infinite azure. Maybe this is it. Maybe I am free.
My tranquil moment is disrupted as Zeke playfully splashes me with a wave.
The water emphasises his already shockingly blue eyes, and it’s hard not to stare, as they seem almost unnatural, catching my vision like a light refracting from a mirror into a darker spot in a room.
I join in, splattering him, before we compete to dive beneath the surface, reaching the stones that carpet the bottom of the clear lake.
The sun is at its highest and eager to warm us as we get out and prepare to return to the cabin. My hair is still damp as I refit my cap, and I’m trying to resist smiling too much as the guys laugh and joke, with even Atlas joining in when given the opportunity to tease them.
Zeke collides into the back of Atlas when he stops abruptly, holding up his fist and squinting into the forest. I don’t dare breathe in the muted atmosphere, but my ears prick towards a distant rustling, growing closer.
It moves fast—too fast to be human. The rasping of sliding metal chimes as they all pull their blades from their belts in unison.
I slink down to my boot, grabbing my knife, gripping it blade-down with a tightened fist. The brambles rustle and shiver without the creature breaching above.
Leon steps before me, shielding me, as they raise their bowie knives.
With a single bound, the beast jumps from the bush. Atlas is already thrusting his blade, ready to strike, while Zeke releases his, dropping to his knees to greet it.
A small dappled hound with its tongue hanging from its panting jaws circles him, pawing at him. Zeke cups the dog’s face, ruffling its long, floppy ears.
Atlas lets out a groan, sheathing his blade. “What is it with you and dogs?!”
I drop to my knees beside Zeke, having not petted a dog since my earlier farm years.
With us always having to move on a whim, my fathers wouldn’t allow me to keep one, no matter how many times I pleaded.
But this pup is adorable, and I slip my knife into my belt to pinch barbed seeds from the furry curls of his ears.
“Ahhh, who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?” Zeke fusses, rubbing him all over, and the dog only has eyes for him as he bounds, playfully barking. Leon urges us to make our way back, and when the dog circles us, it looks like he is coming along.
We make our way down the track, but then the dog cowers his head. His tail no longer wags, but tucks between his rear legs.
“Hey, what is it, boy?” Zeke asks, scooping him from the forest floor. The dog sits in his arms and rests his head on his shoulder, whining, while his puppy eyes stare at me as I follow behind.
Then I hear it, crisp and clear.
The cocking of a gun.