For the Sake of Breathing

Chapter Six

Emica

"God, why is it raining again?!" my friend, Silver, complains. 

        "Well, we are in a rainforest, after all," I remind. Silver rolls her eyes and covers her chestnut colored hair with a fedora.  

        We resume walking up the muddy path, and the rain manages to lightly patter us from the trees above. I shut my eyes and inhale the fresh scent of rain. "Emica?" Silver mumbles.

        "Hm?"

        "What'cha doing?" she inquires. When I glance up at her, she arches a perfect eyebrow at me. "Walking," I mutter, "Talking. Breathing."

        "Gee, way to be specific."

        I give her a sharp look, and whip a piece of my waist-long black hair behind me. After a long moment of silence, I ask, "So, what do you think is so great about this place?" 

        "I dunno. Are you talking about how people call this place the Great Haven?"

        "No, I was talking about the desert!" I reply caustically.

        Silver laughs, exposing her near-perfect white teeth. 

        "Well, from what I've heard, the rest of the world is surrounded by desert. No trees, no water, hardly any supplies, and the list goes on... But I'm not too sure," Silver admits, shyly tucking a lock of her pixie-cut silvery-blonde hair behind one ear. She grins at me, and starts to say something, when her face suddenly falls. "Emica. Emica, we need to go."

        "Why?" I inquire incredulously, and tense up. I follow her gaze to the murky river behind me. In a large canoe are several tall men paddling across into their territory. "It's just a patrol," I whisper, "They're not going to actually trespass, Silver," I inform her in a hushed voice. I motion for her to get down, and slide down in the  dip in the roots of the tree we're beneath. I peer over the edge, and watch the men, now wearing armor and each carrying either a gun or sword. They haven't come with an invitation if they have that many weapons. I glance over my shoulder at Silver, whose light brown eyes meet my green-blue. Her face reflects the sheer terror I feel. 

        I swallow, and decide to do something brave and stupid.

        I stand up, and leap into their view. "What do you think you are all doing?!" I demand of the twenty-odd men in front of me. "You're trespassing." I fight to keep a tremor out of my voice. 

        One aims a shotgun at my head. "What do you think you're doing, little girl?"

        I cross my arms over my chest, and glare at them all. "Stopping you."

        They all throw their heads back and laugh at me. "Yes, one little girl is going to stop a full army of men," the one aiming the gun at me mocks.

        "I'm not alone," I reply tonelessly, and ignore the perspiration on my palms.

        "Oh, and who might else be with you?" he presses, clearly still amused.

        I smirk, and say with a hint of a threat in my voice, "I'm not saying. But I should say you'd better get running." Then I wink sassily at him to add the effect of confidence. I suddenly see myself from their shoes: A small, thin, fifteen-year-old girl standing alone with enough gusto to challenge them. 

        To my surprise, they start backing off. They move towards the canoe, and the shotgun man glares at me. "Tell whoever's covering you that this isn't over! We will gain this territory back!"