When Given a Lemon

Part 9

Snaps and cracks of twigs and other matter popping off around me remind me that I am not the only one forced into this, but the growl stays prominent in my thoughts and I worry I might come face to face with something unexpected, that I'm even less prepared for. A swish of movement passes to the side of me. Several soldiers are coming up behind me holding nets along with the large bags. I'd love for them to move ahead instead so I can drop back. It would be more practical since I don't have either, not that I'd need them now. I've seen how harmless these things are if you leave them be. It makes me feel like our hunting trip is a giant waste of time and we should just go back to the camp.

Unfortunately I'm fairly certain that I'm being watched closely and I know my choices at this moment will either make things better for me while serving, or much much worse.

We chase these things around for what feels like thousands of miles. Unlike the bees they loosely resemble, they don't seem to have a problem abandoning their nest or each other if need be. Climbing up over and through heavy brush and under overgrown limbs, we come across an old abandoned village in our pursuit; long ago swallowed by the weeds, moss and winter frost that make up the carpet of the wood. I tripped over several parts of ruined, crumbled remains of the town. Walls and foundations that blend too well into the wilderness. My toes and shins are throbbing from the constant reinjuring. Adding to the list of injuries I'd already acquired today.

As we go I realize the sun is also slipping even further down in the sky, threatening to plummet us into dark and even more frigid temperatures, but we don't seem to be making any plans to return. I don't have my rucksack. I'd been assuming this was a day expedition. The last thing I want is to spend the night freezing out here without even a blanket or anything to eat!

Too consumed with these thoughts I walk blindly right into the uneven crumbled remains of a structure, dropping further than expected and face planting with a hard smack into the cold ground much lower inside of it. Groaning I don't even try to sit up right away. I know I am going to have a massive goose egg on my forehead. The headache is already starting, warning me it's only going to get worse.

Someone drops down next to me and helps me to my knees. It's Lemon, whom I haven't seen since they’d helped me free myself from the puffs but instead of concern they look like they are trying to hold back laughter.

“It's not funny.” I growl, spitting out mud and coughing as I do. They lose it, laughing so hard at my terrible misfortune that they are crying. “I want you to know” –cough, cough –”that I hate you.”

This doesn't deter them. If anything they laugh harder.

Trying my best to ignore them and my screaming body, I try to look around this shadow filled depression. This must have been a pantry or subfloor to an old building. We are at least three feet below the surface and the wall goes a good two or three feet above that, meaning I fell quite a ways. I'm lucky I didn't break something!

Another soldier arrives and calls down to us to see if we're injured then offers a hand up. Which I appreciate since the stairs are long gone and Lemon idiotically jumped in here with me before checking if there was an available exit! What if I really had broken something? We might have had a really hard time getting out! They glance over at me and smirk, as if they could hear my thoughts. They would find us getting stuck funny. Somehow that shouldn't surprise me.

Before we have a chance to climb out though, that deep guttural growl emanates from further within the forest, from the direction we had just come. So instead of helping us out, the soldier jumps in. I want them to look at me so they can see how stupid their decision was.  Now, instead of helping us out where we could all run and hide or work together to fend this unknown thing off, we are now all hiding in a hole where we're all exposed and it can easily get to us!