Kennedy Hoss of Musket

Chapter 18: Serpents

Song: Devil's Backbone by The Civil Wars

I circle the island, searching for a little beach. Eventually I find one of the opposite end, and I paddle right up to it before hopping out and pulling it the rest of the way up the beach.

Right away I see footprints in the sand, and I run with the heavy canoe up land. I slip and my feet drag through the sand as I follow the tracks. Leaving the canoe by the side of a tree, I grab my pack and follow the tracks. I follow them through the forest, where indentations have been made in the dirt. The smell of smoke wafts through the air, and I break into a sprint. I fly through the trees towards the smell, wincing as branches whip me and tear at my hair.

I come to a crescent shaped clearing with a little house up on stilts. In the center, sitting by a little campfire, is Crow. He sits on a log with a ratty blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"Crow!" I run to him and throw my arms around him, nearly tackling him into the fire. He lets out a little yell as I squeeze the breath out of him, as if he's a balloon that could be lifted away at any second.

"Hi, Kennedy," he says awkwardly. He turns his body to face me and I grab his shoulders, looking him up and down.

"Are you injured? They said you were hurt... are you hurt? Are you okay? What happened?"

Crow nods and rubs his eyes. His hair is damp, and there's a scrape by his eye.

"Well I was sleeping when I heard gunshots and my parents screaming. These guys came in and said we had to leave. I climbed down the hay conveyor and I slipped. That's all."

I'm about to throw my arms around him again when out of no where, Ana walks towards us.

"Found them!" She exclaims, pulling out a couple rolled up bandages. She hands them to Crow before turning and acknowledging me. "Hey Kennedy," Ana says, giving me a small wave. Her nonchalant tone makes a ripple of anger wash through me. I search for the words.

"'Hey'? The entire population of Musket has been abducted and all you can say is 'hey'? Hey Ana, everything is absolutely dandy in my neck of the woods, and speaking of necks and woods, I nearly broke mine being chased through some!"

Ana's eyes glaze over, and Crow stares at me. I fall to the ground and hide my head in my arms. Just behind the scar on my head grows an intense pounding sensation. It's faint, but just there enough that I know it's there.

"I'm going crazy," I mumble after a minute. "I saw Hannibal in the white VIPER truck and when I ran to her, she was gone."

I can feel their eyes probing into me. The pounding fades in and out, like a heartbeat, reminding me that my mind is my own enemy. I am a victim to my own brain. Hannibal might not even be real. But that option is barely considered. I saw her, just a few feet away from me. She's real. It can't just be my brain playing tricks on me. No, it can't be, she was right there, I remember her. I am so sick of not knowing anymore.

"Kennedy?" A gentle hand reaches out and touches my shoulder. It's Ana, searching my face. This girl, lost in a world of her own, is breaking the barrier into mine. "Are you okay arkadaş?"

My attention is grabbed at the unfamiliar word. I have never noticed that she talked a little differently. There was a smoothness that ran off her tongue in a perfect way that made everything else she said sound a little different. I wondered where the accent was from.

I nod, wrapping my arms around myself. There was a deep longing in my chest to be wrapped up in all my heavy quilts at home like a burrowing animal. I just wanted to block out everything, pretend I didn't need to go after VIPER.

As if able to read my mind, Ana brings me a ratty, but warm quilt and drapes it over my shoulders. She helps me up to her little house on stilts and lets me lie down on a mattress, where I fall asleep almost immediately.

Flashback

Violent images play out in front of me. As I am wheeled down a long illuminated hallway doctors surround me, looking down at me. My arms feel like they are asleep, and the needles they stick into them are just a numb pinch.

There is a cartoonish rabbit standing over me, with a permanently open mouth and wide, unblinking eyes. A doctor beside him hands off a pair of sutures, and the rabbit leans down to me, before vanishing.

Along the ceiling, a little gnome crawls into view, turning his head all the way around to stare at me, before we pass him and he must crawl faster to keep up.

Somewhere distant, voices exchange words.

"How far along is she?"

"She'll be fine. It's her brain that's too developed."

A pale yellow glove reaches down and I feel a scrape across my forehead. A thick curtain of blood pours down over my face.

"We'll need chip B."

"Chip B? Are you absolutely-"

"Yes! She's one of the last, we need her."

"But a life of lies? Is that what we must give her?"

"Further procedures will be done to reduce the effect. But chances are she'll need..."

The blood thickens around my face, and I scream. I want to rake my fingers across my skin, but my limbs won't move.