Hudsonville: Tales of the Hunted

Chapter 11: Old Friends

The group had settled underneath the nightly shade of a weeping willow, shortly after leaving the cave and distancing themselves from the coyotes.

At this point, it was pretty apparent that they had, in fact, made it beyond the confines of the valley—it was exhilarating as much as it was terrifying. For Andy and Drew, returning to the human world after learning of the hunters out to get their heads, it kept them well on edge. As for Cici, it was almost like touching down on an alien planet for the first time.

As the group recovered and rested their weary legs, Andy had summoned his father's apparition over the crystal ball—the two had been discussing their plans to meet face to face, attempting now to triangulate Andy's current whereabouts.

"Can't be too far away from the camp," Martin said. "Reckon I know the range y'all came out of."

"Should we start up a smoke signal, or something?" Andy asked.

"Naw," Martin said. "Don't wanna draw too much attention to yerselves. I've got a flare gun, I'll signal my location, if you can find a good lookout."

Andy looked up to Drew. The man shrugged and sat up.

"Guess we'll let you know if we see it."

Hmm. They were on a bit of a slope, overlooking a good portion of the forest, but still surrounded on all sides by trees. The man figured it wouldn't hurt to try and climb the willow if they really needed it.

"...We should be alright." Drew said.

"I'll keep a sharp eye." Andy said.

"Alright," Martin said as he cocked the gun. "Heads up."

Pweeeeeeeeee.

Shining bright like a falling star, the flare burned in the distance and illuminated the black sky surrounding it.

"We see you," Andy said. "...Are you alone?"

Martin scoffed. "Course I am. Said you wanted to see your old man."

"Just making sure."

"You can trust me, Andy."

"I know."

Standing up, Drew cracked his fingers and signaled to the kids.

"..Cya, dad." Andy quietly said, cutting his connection and stuffing the ball back in his bag.

The group packed up their makeshift camp—Cici cradled herself in her arms. The normally talkative Xita had gone relatively quiet since the experience in the cave, her eye blankly reflecting the red glow of the flare. She was shivering, wishing for the sweet, sweet embrace of a fluffy blanket...nice enough, then, that she found herself wrapped in lukewarm leather—Drew had supplied her with his coat. Cici graciously accepted, pulling the fabric taut around herself.

"How we doin'?" Drew asked.

"I'm good, just a little chilly." Cici said.

Man—Andy felt for the poor girl. The guilt he felt was heavy like a truck, having dragged her and this stranger through all of this trouble, nearly drowning, nearly being eaten alive...what was next, he wondered? Were they all about to walk right into some kind of Order trap? Though he trusted his father, this whole thing couldn't help but reek.

This mission they were on, was it reasonable? Was it safe? Was he putting the lives of others in danger for his own personal satisfaction?

Shaking the thoughts, the boy got to his feet.

"Y'all don't have to come," Andy said. "This is my mission—y'all shouldn't have to be part of it."

"Too little, too late, kid," Drew said. "I'm about as much a part of this as you are now."