Isolation

Chapter 23

Mark cut off the last bit of branches from the overgrown brush that he needed. He put them on the roof of his small shelter, patching up the tiny hole that was left. He copied something similar in a simulation that his father made for him in an outdoor survival sim. He had to live inside of it for four days. He never perfected cleaning meat, but he managed to survive on berries and the like. He prided himself with his shelters.

He couldn't move James, so he built the shelter around him instead. It was just branches with greenery as the walls and ceiling, but it was better than being out in the open. If one of those fireflies exploded on them, then they would really be on fire. It took some time, but he managed to finish before he saw the fireflies come out of the forest. He closed off the doorway and prayed he didn't leave a small hole for one to wander in.

The wolves had some time left before the sun was completely gone. He sat up against the tree that James was tied to and held his katana in his hand. He tried to stay awake, but the warm fire, along with a semi-full stomach, was encouraging him to close his eyes and relax. Eventually, sleep won the battle. He was out cold within minutes.

The sound of something scratching woke him up. His grip tightened on the handle of his sword. He didn't dare move. The moonlight and fireflies illuminated the shadow of a creature onto the leaves. It was too distorted to see what kind of animal it was. His mind flashed back to the mountain lion he warded off days ago. He didn't have Blaez or the other wolves to discourage it. He didn't know what kind of animal would be out with the fireflies, but it had to be brave. And hungry.

He angled the sword at the moving shadow. It creeped across the leaves like a slideshow in slow motion. It stopped at the door, and he held his breath. A dark wolf head looked inside, his eyes glowing from the firelight. Mark relaxed and put down his sword.

"Oh, geez, Edon," Mark whispered. "You scared the crap out of me."

Edon walked the rest of the way inside, and Mark saw it. There was a shaft stuck in his side.

"Jesus!"

He moved over to Edon, who lied down on the ground. He whimpered from the pain.

"What happened, boy? Did you get caught on a branch?"

He put his hand over the stick. It was unnaturally straight. He gripped it with his hand.

"Hold still. It's gonna hurt."

He pulled it out. Edon yelped. It was deep enough to draw much blood. He looked at the end of the shaft and felt his mouth go numb. The shaft was straight because it was carved. It had a sharp, bloody head about three inches long.

"Who did this to you? Wait... where are the others?"

Edon closed his eyes. He whimpered again.

"Oh, no."

Firmas.

Mark grabbed his sword and rushed outside. The fireflies were thinned out more than he expected. Most of them seemed to follow the river. Had he known that... no, now wasn't the time for regrets. Something, someone, attacked his pack. No one gets left behind. He picked up the spear and held it out for Edon to sniff. He tossed it inside the shelter, grabbed Edon's fur, and looked him in the eyes.

"Where are they? Lead me to them."

Edon took off, not as quickly as before. Mark followed through the woods. The fireflies almost dissipated from the air the further away he got from the river. He ignored the aching he felt in his body and put another step forward. He realized they had gotten pretty far.

"Are you sure this is the right way?"

Edon, of course, couldn't answer. He just kept moving, stopping to sniff the air. He changed direction, to which Mark adjusted. They were moving faster. They had to be getting closer.