The Broken Earth

The Broken Earth (Chapter 3)

"Are we nearly there yet?" Arthur asked and hated himself for doing so. A complete role reversal with him asking stupid questions to an eight year old like a petulant child. He already knew the answer before the words escaped his lips but it didn't stop him from asking.

It had taken them four hours to travel a distance that would normally take him less than half that and with no signs of the end approaching. Onwards they had trudged  over the savannah, dodging the concealed gorges and crevices that now scarred the land pausing whenever Jonah's arms ached too much or Arthur was in danger of being throttled. The sun was rapidly plummeting in the sky and a sense of dread was growing in the pit of his stomach. 'We'll have to camp for the night,' he thought.

'And that's when they come for you,' Mordred piped up, echoing in his mind. 'That's when they'll kill you both.'

He knew he should be angry but he couldn't bear it. Jonah couldn't be blamed, how could he? He was stuck in a collapsing cottage with a wild hermit so of course he'd want to leave as soon as he was able to. And it was impossible to blame himself for caving in to the boy's wish; he knew Jonah should be with his family and he didn't want to give more fuel for Mordred's guilt trips. Instead Arthur would have to wallow in the pit of impending doom that was swallowing him up with each passing second.

The waif-like figure on his back stirred and peered over his shoulder. "I don't think so, it should take a few more hours," Jonah groaned, sounding as worn out as Arthur felt.

"There's nothing for it then, we'll have to set up a camp," he sighed, his pace slowing as he scanned the horizon.

"Why's that? Can't we just keep going through the night?"

"I don't know how things are in your Eden," Arthur started, sounding sterner than intended, "But where I'm from those Smilers attack at night. If we keep running the damn things will be at our heels the whole way, or worse! They could surround us in the darkness and take us down before you can say 'I wish we'd camped instead like I was told'. We'll spend the night over there," he grumbled pointing at a natural overhang in one of the nearby cliffs that were wrenched from the earth.

It wasn't perfect but it would suffice; shelter on two sides, a roof over their heads (albeit an awfully shallow one) and some shrivelled trees for firewood. It was better than nothing at least, but it should keep them safe. 'But you'll never be safe, not now,' the familiar hiss taunted.

"Shut up," Arthur grunted.

"I didn't say anything," Jonah whined, looking confused and hurt.

He looked at the boy in alarm. He had no idea he'd said that aloud. He was actually talking to voices only he could hear. Was he finally losing it? Had more than a decade of seclusion finally robbed him of his sanity? "I know, I just... We need to get there before nightfall, hang on tight."

It took another hour for them to reach the safety of the alcove. Arthur set his passenger down against the sandstone wall as gently as he could manage and began rooting through his pack for neccessities. Among the items he pulled out were a blanket that he draped over Jonah, a dented tin of soup, a couple of chipped bowls and crude wooden spoons, a rusted tin opener and a vicious looking saw. Without saying a word Arthur padded towards the nearest withered tree and began hacking at its limbs ferociously in a bid to earn precious firewood.

Upon returning with the spoils of his labour and lighting them with a flint and tinder he had stashed in his pocket, Jonah cocked his head to one side and coughed for Arthur's attention."Do the invaders come after you often?" he asked out of curiosity more than fear.

"Of course," Arthur grumbled as he set the tin of soup over the fire and forced a bowl into Jonah's hand. "I don't know how you have things in Eden but in my neck of the woods they attack every night. Only Smilers for the most part anyway."