Fear The Fire

Chapter 11: Fearing Temptation

The wooden carridge creaked and bounced as it manouvered over the uneven terrain. Every time one of the tires caught a rock and swayed threateningly, Erika thought the feeble construction would break apart. Gazing at her surroundings became dull and pointless after a while, the only altercation in the scenery was that the village they'd left behind was no longer visible on the horizon, otherwise the landscape perpetually depicted a vivid, green valley, with a dense forest framing one side of Erika's peripheral vision and uneven hills the other. Before them stretched a dried-dirt road. Erika decided to go through their supplies to pass the time. Manic had packed them enough food to last a couple of days if properly rationed, which was good. But their water supply couldn't sustain three people for more than 2 days and that was without taking into consideration the immensely hot weather. Erika found a couple of blankets and some extra clothing. She hadn't experienced a night outside in this. . . place. . . yet, but it must get pretty cold if they were bringing blankets.

"Unravel it," Nevane told Erika, startling her.

Erika did as she was instructed and unravelled the thick, soft piece of cloth. What she found wrapped within unnerved her, but she needed to unravel the remaining two blankets to confirm her suspicions. It was not a comforting notion that inside each one a knife was nested; a knife with a long, sturdy and freshly sharpened blade. Erika's stomach churned. Were they meant for defense or offense? As protection or as weapons? She tried to imagine what it would feel like, what it would take, to dig this blade into someone, even if that someone was attacking her. No, not someone. A 200 pound, clawed and fanged wolf. Was it better or worse that they weren't human? Erika couldn't decide. She felt oddly detatched, she wanted to jump out of the carridge and run for the forest, like she had conspired on the day she appeared here. Why didn't she just make a run for it? This was not her fight.

"You can't abandon us now," Nevane said and Erika realized she'd been staring in the direction of the forest for probably a moment too long, "You don't realize it, but you've had plenty of time to flee. Deep down, you know this is what you've been waiting for."

"What do you mean?"

"A change, Erika," Nevane said, "A chance to prove yourself. A chance for a change."

Erika didn't understand what Nevane meant. Then again, she rarely did. But Nevane was right, turning back wouldn't accomplish anything. It wouldn't bring back Nixon's mother and it wouldn't take Erika home. The only way now was forward.

Erika carefully re-wrapped the weapons, depicting perpetually in her mind the impending moment in which she'd have to feel the shaft of that blade, grip onto it firmly, as its tip pierced the flesh of her victim. She imagined staring into the eyes of her opponent, watching as the light behind them faded. That is how those who have murdered describe the moment. Erika hoped she would never find herself in that situation, because she didn't want to have to watch herself become a murderer, even in self defense.

The afternoon sun had begun burning into the back of Erika's neck long before Nixon halted the carridge. When he did, it was on the outskirts of what seemed to be a dilute patch of wood. Erika jumped from the carridge, praying they wouldn't be venturing into the forest. It was odd, considering she'd contemplated fleeing into the woods just hours ago, but she had a bad feeling.

"Why did we stop?" Erika asked.

Nixon offered a sugar cube to each of the horses pulling the carridge and patted their sides, "Because we're here. I just need to calm the horses. They can sense the presence of carnivores."

"That's assuring. . . " Erika muttered. She heard Nevane chuckle behind her and couldn't help glancing back with a grateful smile. Regardless of how. . . strange Nevane was, Erika felt assured that she had something close to a friend with whom to share a whimsical glance.