Chapter Thirty-one
Peter
She nestles into my shoulder and I put an arm around her. As the day proceeds, the golden sun sinking slowly into the trees around us signals that the beginning of the evening is here.
In just a few more hours, we would have finished half of our journey, thus letting go of ten of our vehicles to camp on a clearing over there.
I look at her pale, innocent, fighter's face and wonder if what I'm doing is right.
Every time I glance at her, even for a second, I am reminded of the secret I'm keeping- a secret of life and death. Is that why Marge was so insistent on riding in the first carriage? Because she couldn't bear the guilt that would run over her whenever she looked at Catherine?
I sigh and pull Catherine closer, her head lying peacefully on my chest, her hand resting next to it. I look down at our tangled feet; my hands so tightly bound around her waist, and tug her closer still.
"What's the big secret then?" Max asks me, whispering, as he comes over to the other end of the wagon. I shake my head, no. Max shrugs and settles down on my right. "It's about her isn't it?"
"Max, not now."
He seems reluctant but decides not to argue and then playfully puts his head on my right shoulder. I smile and put my free right arm around his broad shoulder and he puts his on to mine, which I pull off gently because it's much too close to Catherine for me, and in these last few days, I want her all to me, just me, and I don't want to share her with anyone else.
-
I jump off the carriage to oversee the last ten wagons dropping off. We can't wait for long enough to see them actually settle down though, and this upsets some broken families.
I can't look at their tears, because I know the pain they are going through, I've felt it before, and it's the worst kind of pain one could ever feel.
Flashback
I couldn't breathe, I couldn't stop the tears that were rolling down my cheeks, my legs couldn't hold up my body anymore. My mother's death left me lost.
-
I saw her break down, her body crumbled up against the floor, I saw her dead parents tied up tightly to the chairs. I saw their red blood dripping off their cut bodies. I saw the pool it formed in the middle. I saw her beg, plead, for them to come back.
I can't see this again and for the first time since Marge told me the truth about what was going to happen, I felt glad about what she said.
Happy that I wouldn't have to see this again...
-
"We're here." She says softly into my ear and I pull up almost immediately. I smile at her and look over to the others. They are already gathered up outside the wagons, talking, planning, discussing, and settling down into our new home for the next three days.
I inhale deeply and then get up, allowing the breath to make its way out slowly as I jump off the carriage with my bag, and then I turn to help Catherine down. I turn to find she's standing beside me already.
Her entire body looks fragile, brittle, as if it would break into a million pieces by just one strong thrush of wind. Her body trembles slightly, and she pulls herself together as if she was feeling cold. I frown and look up at her face.
Her eyes shine brightly, fierce. Their usual chocolate brown shining spectacularly in the bright morning light. Her lips are pressed into a straight line and her jaw is set. Catherine's eyebrows slant in slightly, as if she were angry, or agitated at something. I put out my hand on her cheek to convince her to release the muscles.. She immediately loosens.
"Nothing's going to happen to you." I say to her and she nods to me, as if she doesn't believe what I am saying.
But she really should.
-
By the time we have set up our tents, it is evening and as I see the sun set, I feel as if it's right here in front of me, as if I put my hand out, I could touch it's burning rays.
A light wind revolves around us, pleasant and sweet. The smell of mud, of the ground- much like the kind in a forest- is permanently spread around.
From this distance, I can hear the low howls of nightlife and a soft, thudding noise. I frown and peer ahead into the sunset. A thudding sound of feet. As the Earth slowly takes the sun out of our view- less than half of it left- a shadow, a silhouette of people, an army, come into view. The Snakes.
I thought they would be here earlier, seeing that the war begins in less than a day from now, but our opponents must have a grand entrance. I sigh and go back to the tent to alert the others.
They come out hurriedly, a little anxious, slight wrinkles forming on their foreheads- not Ester's though, he has them on all the time- and I smile at their clumsiness, their frowns.
It's as if after what Marge told me, I have no need to worry about anything anymore.
The ten of us walk ahead, Marge stands back, and we walk in one straight line. I smile as I think about how we look, a fancy team of ten in black suits and heavy guns and daggers on us, walking with our hands moving by our sides.
"Are you drunk?" Max asks me, leaning in slightly when he sees me smiling. "Their army is huge!"
I grin. None of it makes any difference any more.
"Just excited." I tell him. He nods at me, looking at me like I'm a mad person, but lets it go.
We walk for about two hundred meters till we decide to stop simultaneously.
Maximus, with the same fourteen men and women as last time tailing him, stands opposite us. He looks worried, but manages to hide it very well underneath his mask. If only I could read his mind right now.
They are dressed in their usual yellow and green striped skin-tight jumpsuits, as if an effect of spray paint. Across their bodies, they have a black sling holding a weapon that we can't make out from here. They all wear smug faces and their green eyes shine ferociously, making a creepy effect with the dimming sky.
I feel myself boiling up, my eyes changing their colour. I glare at each and every one of them, wearing my pride on my sleeve. I walk to the approximate center of where we stand.
"Maximus." I say directly to him. "I see you're late. Were you too scared? Thinking of backing out?"
He looks back at me maniacally. "Oh little boy, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Clearly he doesn't have someone like Marge to see the future.
I smile. "Good. Neither would I."
"I presume you know the rules and will, under all circumstances, play by them?" I ask him.
"Of course. We may be killers, but we have dignity."
"You can say that all day long and it won't be true- but whatever helps you sleep at night."
He chuckles. "I like you, little boy. It will be sad seeing you die."
I laugh back at his response. Not if you die first. But I don't reply to him.
My chuckle brings a sudden wave of confusion on his face.
"Let's go over the rules now, shall we?" Andrew asks, stepping up to us, being the mediator that he is.
"Oh, Andrew. You're such a - gahh..." Maximus says, waving his hands in front of him. "This is war," he continues, motioning towards the vast empty field around him, a smirk on his face, "there are no roles in war!" Seriously? He just agreed to play by them.
Andrew looks aghast but pulls himself together quickly. As for me, I was sort of expecting this. I mean, Maximus fits in very well to the typical 'bad guy stereotype' and so this is no surprise.
I shake my head and say, "Okay look, tomorrow, eight a.m."
"Oh, wait, wait, wait, dearie." Maximus says to me. "We just came. Why not take the day off tomorrow so both of us get some time to settle in a little and then begin the day after tomorrow?"
We have no reason to deny one more day of rest, but the fact that his soldiers would be tired out gives us a good advantage over them. I sigh. Think about it.
"We'll start the day after." I say finally. Maximus would have a very good reason to willingly tell us that his army is weary. Most probably they are not.
"Very well then." He replies, his crooked eyes gleaming. We shake hands and retreat back to our own sides.