Chapter 17 #2
I blink away the tunnel vision, realizing my feet must’ve subconsciously carried me to the lapping stream running along the meadow’s edge.
Would that be so bad? Limited sun exposure won’t turn me into the soul-thirsty monsters we’re meant to hunt.
I know that, thanks to my firsthand experience in the transport tunnel and Kalden’s confirmation.
What I don’t know is whether exposing the entirety of my head for a prolonged period would be enough to tip my body past the point of no return.How long would it take for the sun’s corrupting light to mutate my body and burn away my humanity? A few hours? A day? Longer?
My fingertips itch with the urge to test it. Maybe I could pretend to lose my balance and “accidentally” drop the helmet into the fast-flowing current.
Gem nudges my arm, careful to avoid the folded blades. “You okay, Orelle?”
I turn on my heel, preparing to shrug it off.
“Don’t you dare say you’re fine. I’m not fine.
None of us are.” Gem lowers herself to the ground, shucking off her boots and dipping her reddened toes into the water.
“I’ve got blisters in places I didn’t know were possible.
My stomach is so starved it’s queasy. And this suit is giving me one hell of a wedgie that keeps coming back no matter how many times I tug on it. ”
I snicker and collapse gracelessly at her side. “You could leave the flap unbuttoned tonight. Let it all air out down there while you sleep.”
Her jade eyes widen. “And let all my bits be on full display? No chance.”
“We can choose a spot away from the others,” I suggest before adding, “though I doubt any of them would—”
“No, I know.” Her shoulders deflate. “I wish we could have stayed in our little cabin forever: you, me, and T. For all the drawbacks we put up with as Tier Threes, at least we had the choice of sticking together. That was all I ever wanted.”
“That was always going to change, though. Whether Taur got pregnant or we got selected, forever was never a real option for us in Caligo.” We both fall quiet for a time while Gem stares at the ripples of the creek bouncing between blades of grass, until I press on, “Do you regret not pursuing marriage?”
“No.” Her reply is quick and firm.
“Even if it meant saving yourself from this fate? I mean, you have to realize you’d make the perfect wife. You’re young, healthy, radiant. Unlike me, you wouldn’t have to beg for anyone’s affection.”
“I couldn’t be with them in that way, romantically—not without forcing myself.
But even then, how could I guarantee they’d never leave me?
I’ve seen what you and T have gone through, how fragile relationships can be.
” Gem shakes her head. “So, no, I don’t regret spending the limited time I’ve had with people who wouldn’t leave. Well, until T got pregnant.”
My brows pull together as I quietly ask, “Is that why you decided to stay in the Hunt?”
Muted moonlight reflects off the glistening streaks running down Gem’s cheeks.
She dips her hands in the water and splashes her face before nodding.
“There would’ve been no one left for me to come home to.
We’d all be alone right now. Me in our dingy cabin.
T in her upgraded space. You out here. And I guess .
. . I guess I preferred to be the one leaving rather than the one who got left behind. Does that make me an awful sister?”
I scoot closer to Gem’s side. “No. I won’t allow you to blame yourself for choosing to stick by me, and Taur doesn’t blame you, either.
Sure, she’s probably not eating or sleeping very well right now, but I can’t imagine she feels anything beyond pride for your bravery, and fear for your well-being. ”
She chews on her bottom lip. “I just hope she doesn’t feel abandoned.”
“We can’t control that, though.” Gem’s frown deepens, so I add, “But I have a feeling my parents have unofficially adopted her by now. After a few days of my mother’s hovering, she might get sick of their constant company.”
The creases along her forehead soften, and I smile gently as I fold up the bottom hem of my suit to a few inches below both knees, then dunk my feet into the stream beside Gem’s.
The rushing water is an instant balm that sends shivers up my entire body.
A moan escapes my lips, and I force a fake cough in a belated attempt to disguise it, for Gem’s sake.
She rolls her eyes and tosses a couple of raisins into her mouth.
We snack in companionable silence while continuing to soak our aching feet. Neither of us eats much. Like Gem, I’ve reached the stage of nauseous hunger, but I know I’ll need sustenance to fuel me through tomorrow’s nonconsensual fast, so I force myself to push past my lack of appetite.
Yvonne joins us a few minutes later with Demi and Aruna at her sides as she pulls back her braids and leans over the creek to cup some of its water within her palms.
“Shadows’ mercy, that’s good,” she says, scooping up a second helping.
Aruna wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “It’s okay.”
Yvonne arches her brows. “Better than that over-processed water they give us back home.”
Aruna shrugs. “At least the drinking water there is safe. Who knows what’s in this? What if it gives us sun poisoning?”
“That only happens with direct exposure to sunlight,” Demi chides as she kneels beside the creek’s edge. “You’ll be fine.”
“How do you know?” Aruna lifts her chin while backing away from the water. “It’s not like you’ve done this before. None of us have.”
Moonlight breaks through the parting clouds, illuminating the flush of pink on Demi’s cheeks. “No, but I know someone who has. My Aunt Jackie was the last to survive the Hunt sixteen years ago.”
“Jacqueline Winters is your aunt?” Yvonne gapes at her friend, then gestures to Demi’s chestnut ringlets. “Holy shit, you have her hair! How did I not know this?”
Demi rubs her hands on her thighs, drying them off before picking at a half-buried pebble, loosening it from the dirt.
“My grandmother had the whole family disown Aunt Jackie as soon as she came back. Told my mom she had to break off all contact with her sister. Said it would look bad on us, after what she did. We didn’t reconnect until four years ago—my first year of eligibility.
She wanted to share some survival tips, just in case, even though I’d ignored her for twelve years. ”
She tosses the pebble into the stream, and the current swallows it with a splash.
Yvonne rubs a palm along Demi’s hunched back. “You couldn’t have been older than—what, like, six or seven when she returned? Of course your aunt wouldn’t blame you for following orders.”
Demi gives her friend a half-hearted smile, leaning her head onto Yvonne’s shoulder. “Thanks, Von.”
“So, she told you the water’s safe to drink?” Gem asks, bringing the conversation back around.
“She said I could drink any water I find, unless it’s from the ocean. When I asked her why, she said it’s too salty.” Demi’s nose scrunches up in what I imagine to be an echo of her aunt’s expression.
My forehead bunches together. “How long was Jacqueline out here?”
From what I recall of that year’s Hunt montage, the footage hadn’t shown any of the women making it past the stretch of Caligo’s dunes. But according to Demi, Jacqueline had at least made it far enough to drink from the ocean and a freshwater source.
“Don’t you remember?” Yvonne asks. “The guards found her unconscious in front of the main gate seven days after the hostess declared that all the Huntresses were dead.”
“Huh,” I say, vaguely recalling the confusion I’d felt when our neighbors grumbled their displeasure at seeing that the woman was alive after all.
It wasn’t until I’d asked my parents that I understood it was because she’d forsaken her duty.
“What about her body camera? Couldn’t they have checked on her? ”
Demi scoops up a second pebble and launches it into the creek.
“It got damaged in the last attack that aired—the one where they assumed she’d died.
The footage from another camera showed Aunt Jackie sprawled beneath one of her .
. .” She stops, rolling a third pebble around in her hand as she searches for the right word.
“. . . beneath a fellow Huntress who bled out. The stench of the blood and death masked Aunt Jackie’s scent from the two Sols.
Once they left and dusk fell, she ran. Chose the wrong direction, at first. Said she found her way to a forest, probably this one, before circling back towards Caligo. ”
“Wow.” Gem whistles, then asks, “The Sols left her alone after the last group attack?”
Demi bristles, staring at the polished brown pebble in her hand, avoiding our gazes. “Before she ran, Aunt Jackie covered herself in as much blood as she could and never washed it off. She thinks that’s what kept the Sols from sniffing out her humanity. Told me to do the same if . . .”
Her eyes close, fingers clenching the rock in her fist.
“Holy shadows,” I breathe, both appalled and impressed by Jacqueline’s unsavory survival tactic. My shoulders convulse as I imagine the sickly sensation of being covered in gore for seven days.
Yvonne places her palm atop Demi’s. “Your aunt is a badass.”
“More like disgusting,” Aruna says with a pinched nose. “I can’t believe she disrespected the fallen like that. If any of you get any ideas about doing that to me, I swear I’ll haunt you.”
Yvonne snaps, “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing if the roles were reversed.”
“Decorum doesn’t exist out here,” I say, in case Aruna hasn’t yet concluded as much herself. “We do what we can to survive, even if it’s disrespectful or foul or taboo. If I fall in battle tomorrow or the next day, I won’t begrudge any of you for doing what Jacqueline did.”
I look at Gem as I speak that last part, hoping she listens.
She shakes her head, yet whispers, “Same.”
The others echo a chorus of agreement, except for Aruna, who stands by her earlier declaration.
We chat a bit longer about Jacqueline, greedy to hear more of her tips.
Demi becomes more animated as she tells us about a golden bird that appeared on Jacqueline’s third day of meandering without direction, when she was on the brink of dehydration.
A glowing sparrow guided her to freshwater steam.
The next morning, a luminous robin pecked her awake and led her to a cluster of grapevines.
Every day, a new bird appeared, steering her towards sustenance, and eventually, home.
In hindsight, Jacqueline had suspected that these golden birds were a figment of her imagination, born from desperation, dehydration, and instinct.
But as we settle in half an hour later, using our knapsacks as pillows, I can’t help but wonder if the unlikely guardians are real. And if they are, maybe they’ll help guide us, too.