"Where the hell have you been?!" Mom whisper yells as I walk into the factory.
I hold the fish up and show her.
"You've been gone for hours and all you have are a few fish..." She shakes her head at me. I know she doesn't realize how difficult fishing is with just a knife—well, for me it's hard. If it wasn't for that guy we wouldn't have anything at this point.
"I'm sorry, but fishing is much more difficult than you think. As you can see, I'm soaked."
"You should have come back after an hour. Even then, that's stretching it. How are we going to cook it?" Mom looks around but I remove the lighter from my pocket.
"Where did you get that?" Mom asks, her eyes staring at the small green container in bewilderment. We only had matches at the camp and I left them in my knapsack. We also learned the tough old fashioned way to start a fire, but that took a lot of time and effort. It was easier to have something that did it for you.
"I ran into that tattoo-guy at the creak," I tell her.
Mom's eyes widen and look around worriedly, "You did?"
I nod.
"I know he saved us, but I still don't trust him enough. He could be trying to gain our trust and lure us into a trap. Remember what Raven said about not trusting anyone? We should follow it," I say, watching her preparing the fish. I notice sweat on her face and instantly become worried about the wound on her ankle. It's freezing in here, so she shouldn't be sweating this much.
She might have an infection.
"How's your leg?" I ask, reaching to touch the cotton cloth wrap, but she slaps my hand away.
"It's fine. Can you collect pieces of dry wood for the fire? Oh, and some palm-sized stones," she says, scooting farther away from me with a pained expression.
I frown. There's obviously something she's hiding from me.
"Mom, if something's wrong…" I say but sigh in defeat when she snaps at me to go do what I was told.
"Can I bring the knife with me?" I ask, scared to be out in the open without protection. She only nods in response.
I breath out in defeat, standing up to leave the building. I know mom doesn't want me to worry for her, but she's much too strong-headed to admit she is in pain. Even to me.
I move towards the corner, but before I go around it I turn back to see mom wincing at the pain from her leg. She leans back and breathes out deeply. When I see her unwrap the cotton cloth I gasp.
The wound is getting worse. And we have nothing to treat it. I know there are medicinal herbs out in the forest; I wasn't raised to be useless for the past ten years. I worked alongside the workers of the greenery, learning how to grow and take care of the harvest.
Abigail…She and I would hang around Enya and Anna, sucking up information like sponges; we desired to be educated on plants for the sake of the colony. Abigail was the one who came up with the idea. She said that if we ever needed to help someone in pain, we'd be able to utilize our surroundings. I guess she was able to foresee these things.
However, she unfortunately didn't foresee herself playing with fire and getting burned. She wanted to be free of the catacombs, seeking the outside world. And it cost her everything.
Sometimes, when all is quiet in the night, I think of her and often wonder what she looks like again. I can't seem to remember her face. I remember her laugh and how happy she made me. She was like another sister.
I almost regret I never followed her off into the woods. Maybe I could have helped her? My stomach rumbles both out of hunger and fear, knowing that my mom and I could face the same fate at any moment.
With my mind set, I look around the forest from behind the factory door and scan for any threats. I listen carefully, not wanting to risk our lives once again. Even if I was just out here, a few minutes could change everything. If only Raven were here she could have helped us get through this. Thinking of her, I wonder if she escaped?
I focus on the sounds drifting throughout the forest: the wind swaying tree branches, their leaves dancing to the command of the powerful breeze; birds sing peacefully back and forth to one another, and sound of the soft rippling water of the creak meets my ears.
My mind whirls as I take the first step out into dangerous territory. At least in the factory we could hide. Out here, someone could be watching me and I wouldn't even know it. I stay close to the edge of the building and look for sturdy sticks and rocks along the way.
I hold the knife close to me as I search for pieces of dry wood and palm-sized stones. I also make a mental note to look for any medicinal plants. My eyes wander over the greenery, hoping to see any significant signs that I should be aware about. It now seems way too quiet…
I see a numerous, medium sized twigs so I pick them up and shove them inside the pocket of my hoodie. I keep looking and find thin branches from a fallen down tree. I run my hands over the log, thinking on how it once used to stand tall and proud. I feel the moss covering it and silently thank the tree for providing us with wood. I wasn't raised to take, but to cherish the offerings of the Earth. I was raised to be strong, spiritual, and loving of the planet that has shielded me from the evil that lurks within in it. We wouldn't have been able to survive if there hadn't been the caves, or the trees to hide behind when being shot at.
Anna always taught us to be grateful for what the Earth has offered us. Without the herbs that grow naturally here, we would have suffered. These plants aren't just here to produce oxygen for the planet, but to help us in times of need.
I quickly stand, determined to find a herb that would help Mom's injury. My eyes search the greenery and I see a patch of white off in the distance. With hope running through my mind, I sneak towards it.
Looking down, I smile at what's in front of me:
Yarrow.
The plant gently sways as I feel its white, flowery tips, and fern-like leaves. Yarrow can be used topically or at best, boiled in tea form to stop wounds from bleeding, becoming infected, or help close a gash. Typically, it works for inflammation.
I lower myself to the ground and feel for the roots of one of the many plants surrounding me. Once I find its source I pull it out of the ground, making sure I was able to get the roots as well. I dust the dirt off my fingers and then shove the plant in with the sticks in the crook of my arm. I'll have to take multiple trips for the stones.
I head back to the building and gentle drop my finds next to a sleeping mom. She definitely looks unwell. I pat her head lightly, but she does not wake.
Yes, this is a bad sign indeed. She's not dead, but she will be soon if she doesn't receive medical attention.
I scope the outside area from the doorway, listening for any intruders. When I find nothing out of the ordinary, I reluctantly leave the building on my quest for stones, and possibly more wood and herbs. There's never a moment I'll pass on resources. Who knows when I'll need it again?
I find stones as I walk along the shrubbery and pick them up as I go. Once I retrieve enough, I feel its time I head back. I can feel my anxiety pick up as I realize I've gotten too far from the factory building. I'm out in the open, like a deer completely unaware of the hunter stalking it with a machine to kill.
I breathe out deeply and make sure I watch for any sudden movements. My eyes dart around nervously, making my heart rate soar. I can literally feel every muscle on my body twitch, ready to strain themselves if need be. I keep picturing Rhiannon's face in my head, wondering if she felt like this when she left, if she was okay, or if she'd been captured. My lips quiver in worry. I miss my little sister. I miss the catacombs.
There's almost complete silence as I move throughout the forest. All that's heard is the light scuffle of my shoes against the Earth's floor, and my heavy breathing.
When I finally see the factory building I sigh in relief. Leaving it always comes with a risk. I stride forward but stop when I hear a gunshot. Birds in the trees take off in fright, and I wish I had wings at this point. My heart feels as if it could burst out of my chest any minute.
I have to calm down and think logically.
The gunshot wasn't that close. It was probably near where we came from, around the log with Anna's initials carved into it. I quickly run towards the factory entrance and slam the door open and gasp when mom stands before me, her eyes wide and lips shivering like my own. She has tears in her eyes and before I know it I'm enveloped in a tight hug.
"Jesus, when I heard that shot…I thought they'd got you!" Mom cries, her chest rising and falling from breathing so hard.
"I was so scared when I heard it. Don't worry, it isn't that close," I tell her, her arms still wrapped around me. I move the knife in my hand so that it isn't close to her and shove it in my pocket for safe keeping.
"We'll stay inside for a little while and leave in the morning. We can't risk another day. Rhiannon is out there somewhere. I just hope she's safe. My poor baby," Mom sighs and backs away from me, yet still close at arm's length.
I rub her arm gently. "I know," I say with a shaky voice.
"Let's leave the fire until later. I don't want whoever shot that gun smelling or seeing it."
"You know what's best," I nod and grab the yarrow. "Chew this for now," I hand her the yarrow. My stomach rumbles hungrily, but I know she's right. It's either eat and get warm, or be kidnapped by one of those sick fuckers outside.
Soon, hours have passed and night has fallen upon us. The fish has been exposed to the air, but since it's so cold we deem it edible.
"Do you think we should still start a fire?" I ask. I remember that guy's advice about making fires at night.
"You said he caught the fish? If we don't eat them now, we won't have food again. They will be inedible if we leave them much longer.
"It's your choice," I shrug.
"Let's get it started so we can regain our strength," Mom nods and moves away from me. I bite my lip and follow her. She's always been a little distant at times. I give her the items she'd asked me to grab; unfortunately some of the rocks fell out in the process of running towards the factory door.
"You don't want help, am I right?" I ask with a light smile. She returns the smile and nods. I know her well; she likes to do things by herself most of the time. And if you try to get involved she grows irritated. I'm actually surprised she let me come along this trip. She's still sweating and slightly feverish, and I know she's struggling to stay awake. But I'm not one to stop a strong-willed woman in her quest.
"You're such a smart girl, Mellie. You know I've always been proud of you, right?" Mom says, looking at me directly in the eyes. I nod, not knowing how to respond. I always thought she liked Rhiannon more because she's so submissive and easier to watch over than rebellious me. Her saying this is completely random. Maybe her fever is making her confused? I think this with sarcasm and almost laugh out loud.
I hear a snap and look up to see a small flame swaying out from one of the peaks of a twig and watch as Mom lowers it to a slip of paper. The flame ignites the sheet and soon enough the fire is growing, passing from one twig to the other. She has a circle of rocks around it with a steel piece underneath it from one of the old broken machines. I look at the green lighter on the ground and think of the guy that gave it to me. Why did he? And why was he so nice; wasn't he supposed to be heartless like all the others? I move closer towards the fire and smile in content when I feel the heat simmering into the air. Without thinking I hold my cold hands up to the warmth in content. Mom does the same and we chuckle over how our moods change from something so simple.
Mom sighs and moves back to the small handful of sticks. She then picks up a branch and starts peeling the bark off with the knife, creating a spear.
"I'm so hungry," I groan and lean back against the wall for support. My body feels weak from all the stress and not eating for so long.
"Once I get these done I'll use them to cook the fish," she tells me, so I just wait and watch.
I can feel my eyes close and let my body drift off to sleep. Within what feels like seconds, I awake alert to something tapping me on the shoulder.
"Hmm?" I say, sitting up quickly in defense mode.
"Mellie, you fell asleep. The fish is cooked," Mom's voice lets me know it's safe. My stomach rumbles at the smell of food, and I move to where the fish are.
"Hold your horses," Mom chuckles and hands me the stick with the cooked fish on the end.
We eat in silence, the fire crackling in the background. I bite into the crispy flesh of the fish and look up at mom as she picks out some of the bones. I feel a few in my mouth and spit them out. I look at the fish and remember the time my dad took me fishing. I was six at the time. However, I can barely recall what he looked like. So the memory is a little hazy.
After we finished, we regretfully destroyed the fire. It was getting late and we knew hunting parties would be out. The gunshot earlier wasn't as scary as those who go out at night.
"Let me treat your leg," I say, scooting closer to where Mom is sitting. She sighs, not liking how weak she feels. I squint in the dark, using the moon as a light. I know it's a risk using my fingers to put the application on, but there wasn't any sterile equipment around. Mom winces at the contact but holds her cries back as I gently apply the crushed herb. Once the wound is covered, I rub some ointment on my ear and wince as I feel a slight sting.
"Thank you," Mom smiles and lowers herself onto the floor to sleep.
I nod in response but can't help but ask "Mom, what are we going to do in the morning? Where will we go?"
"I think we should leave when its still dark out, but close till morning. So we'll be able to get across the road this time. Then we'll go to Wicker farm," Mom tells me, moving over on her side to look at me. I'm not sure she can even see me though, as its much darker than earlier.
"But that means we have to go back the way we came from…"
Mom looks to be deep in thought. She sighs and rolls onto her back, her hand running through her short hair.
"We'll have to go around. If they found the dog dead, they'll be on watch. It was obviously a guard dog. Don't worry about it and let me deal with it.
"But-"
"Go to sleep. You need to save your energy," she orders. How can I go to sleep when all these questions running through my head? I'm scared, worried, and frustrated. I just wish I could have lived a normal life instead of being constantly afraid of the future.
"Mom…" If we have to run tomorrow, how will she be able to with the wound on her leg? Yarrow is a convenient healer; however, it doesn't automatically fix a wound overnight. It takes multiple treatments. If she stresses herself, the wound will just deteriorate instead of heal itself.
"Hmm?"
"How are you going to run with your leg like that?" I say, hoping she'll think logically. It's better to stay here longer. I know Rhiannon is in danger, but we're all the hope that she has left. If we die, then that's it. There will be no rescue.
Mom groans at me as if I were stupid.
"I'll be fine, now go to sleep. The faster we get to Rhiannon, the safer we'll all be."
"Yeah, I know, but…" I start but she cuts me off,
"Shush. I don't want to hear it," she rolls over on her side with difficulty. I sigh and do the same, my back facing hers.
Minutes pass by and I still can't fall asleep. I'm about to roll over when Mom says my name, her voice sounding ragged.
"Yeah?" I say, moving my head to look at her. I can't see her, but she's obviously there.
"I love you."
I narrow my eyes in confusion, "I love you too."
Was she implying something?
"Why are you saying this now? Do you not think we'll make it?"
She doesn't reply but I can hear shuddered breathing. And it wasn't me.
Is she crying?
"Mom, are you okay?" I ask, sitting up to check on her, but she stops me.
"Stay there. I'm fine, go to sleep."
I know she doesn't want me to see her cry. And I respect that. The one thing she's always hated was being seen as weak; whether it be mentally or physically, she always wanted to be thought of as strong.
But she doesn't realize that nothing will change my view of her. She'll always be brave, no matter what choices she makes. She's the most amazing person I've ever known.
I feel tears form at the far corners of my eyes but wipe them with the sleeve of my hoodie. It's no use, crying won't change our situation. I roll over with my back facing Mom and hide my face with my arms.
I don't even feel myself fall asleep. It's like I was there with my closed eyes pressed against the fabric of my hoodie, and then nothing.
Sleep took me faster than expected.
"Mellie, wake up," I hear someone calling my name. I open my eyes with sleep only on my mind.
"It's time to leave?" I say, squinting at what I think is Mom's face.
"Yes," she whispers, packing the knife away in her pant pocket. She grabs a piece of paper and folds it into a makeshift envelope to hold the yarrow florets. At least she knows she'll need it. We then hide the ashes of the fire in case the building has male visitors.
"Are you sure we should leave?" I ask, my voice sounding groggy.
"Yes, Rhiannon needs our help. We've already wasted enough time. Let's go!" Mom hisses at me as if it's my fault Rhiannon ran away. Does she blame me for not stopping her when I had the chance? First she says she loves me, and then she's back to being uptight.
I make sure the map is tucked in my pant pocket and I look around for anything else we might need.
"You have the lighter?"
She nods and motions with her hand for me to follow her towards the door. With one last look at our sanctuary, we escape out into the night. Its dark, but you can tell that it's almost morning by the white haze of the sky.
"Do you remember how to get back to the log with Anna's initials?" Mom looks around, watching for any sudden movements. I feel a shiver run down my back from the chill of the early morning breeze. I keep tabs on where we are so if we need to, we can run back to the factory.
"No, not from here," I tell her. I had been unconscious when we came here. So everything around me is technically new.
"I can't remember how to get back," Mom groans in frustration. I take out the map and scan it, looking for any clues. Unfortunately there aren't many highlights as to where we are. I shake my head and then think about the places that we're familiar with already.
"Well if we keep going straight from here we'll most likely end up where you got attacked by the dog. The creak is in the same direction," I whisper. We'll have to take a different route instead.
"Well it's the only way we know how to get back. Take out the map," Mom points to my pant pocket, her eyes wandering for any threats.
I do as told. "It says Brooksview is close to here, which means so is the road. But if we head back to the factory, we can make our way to Wickers Barn," I point out, showing her that if we turned left from the factory, we'd walk straight towards our next sanctuary.
"I hope she's there," Mom whispers out loud, more to herself than me. I can feel anxiety rolling off of her in waves. I can't imagine what it's like to not know where your child is, knowing that she could be in the arms of a deranged man…Every second that ticks by, the possibility of it becoming a reality increases. Rhiannon was blinded by whatever infatuation she has for Vivi, and it blocked out any rational thought in her head. She obviously didn't think we'd come looking for her.
My shoes crunch on the ground as I follow Mom through the deep forest. When I see Rhiannon, the first thing I'm going to do is squeeze her in a tight hug, and then I'm going to slap her silly. There's no way I'm letting her off the hook for running away like star-crossed lovers. She's obviously too young to hang around a Forager for acting out like this.
"How long do you think it'll take to get there? The map doesn't say, and the length of forest is definitely not as short as it implies on the drawings," I look down at the map in my hands.
"No clue," Mom replies, her tone hinting she was back in an indifferent mood. I sigh in defeat. Anyone else would think she was acting this way because of her anxiety. But as a matter of fact, she's like this constantly. It obviously wasn't because she didn't care for us, but it was just her personality. I never understood it, and probably never will.
As we walk, I think about the tattoo-guy. Was he immune or something? The way he acted…it was as if he hadn't even been cursed with the disease. No man would ever save a woman like that—unless he wanted her for himself. There had to be benefits for him.
I shiver and realize I'd been playing with fire and was probably going to get burned if I ever trusted someone, especially a man. The only trustworthy person I can count on right now is my Mom.
"There it is," she says, interrupting my thoughts.
I sigh in relief when I see the large barn, yet it hardly looks safe. The red paint, or what used to be red, is faded and tearing off the old boards. The roof appears to be caved in and there are vines covering most of the building.
"I don't think this is it?" I whisper and walk closer towards the broken structure. There's barely a moment I won't be on guard for any intruders, so I keep my voice quiet.
"It is, look," Mom says, nodding towards the prickle bushes in front of the closed doors. There is a medium sized piece of rotten wood with barely readable words on top of it:
Wickers Barn.
"This is supposed to be a safe haven?" I look at the building warily and walk closer towards it, believing this is some mistake. This must have happened recently, or Foragers haven't been keeping up with map improvement.
"I guess with age and isolation, it fell apart." Mom opens the front door, a loud creak echoing around us. We both flinch at the sound.
"Now that is definitely not safe," I nod as we walk in to see complete desecration. There is graffiti on the walls and a large muddy puddle sits right in the middle of the room. I groan in frustration. There's garbage all over the place, old pieces of burnt firewood, and a dirty, tattered blanket crumpled up near the remains of a once sizzling fire.
I shiver. The cold and filthy atmosphere inside the barn is unwelcoming, disgusting, and outright sad.
"Rhiannon's been here," Mom says out of the blue, making me alert.
"How can you tell?" I ask, walking over to where she is. My hopes soar when I realize that my sister made it to a safe place instead of being captured by that Markus man.
"See here," she points down on the ground to where the blanket was, "that's Vivi's. Don't you recognize it? She used to wear it as a shawl around the compounds."
Once I look closer and pick apart the damage, I can tell that she's right.
"Or maybe she just forgot it here on one of her last trips?"
I pick up the cold, rough material and think about the intense meeting between Vivi and I. She'd knocked me out cold, and one of the things I clearly remember during that moment was the way she looked.
She had been wearing this as a shawl.
And this shawl has a hole in it; one that awfully looks like a bullet hole. I hold it up to the light and rub off the mud from the fabric.
"Shit," I gasp, my eyes widening in shock.
"What is it?" Mom says, walking over to me quickly.
"B-Blood," I mutter, noticing there's lots of it covering the fabric. It's on the ground if we look close enough.
We have much more to worry about now.
More than ever.