The Whipping Tree

II: Charcoal and Cerulean

II

Charcoal and Cerulean

         The first thing on Joan’s mind is how much longer she will live. She figures that the Nocens must plan to take her back to their base.

         “But we might just be food for the journey,” Eliza whispers certainly loud enough for the nearby Nocens to hear. They don’t answer, however. They never answer.

         “They’ve been eating,” Joan replies. And they have. Some grey, pasty mixture wrapped in large leaves; the scent reminds her of burnt porridge and firewood.

         “You don’t know what that is. Could be ground-up human flesh.” Eliza hitches her skirts up as they cross a particularly muddy section of the road. They hadn’t encountered any other travellers on their path, something that makes Joan restless and suspicious.

         “And ground-up human flesh is grey?” she retorts.

         The Nocen in front of them gives a short bark of laughter and moves to whisper in his companion’s ear.

         “If anything it would be red or brown,” she adds.

         Eliza harrumphs and they fall silent. The Nocens continue to speak in low murmurs.

        Joan glances around at their surroundings. She wishes she could remember all the turns they made and roads they took. She tried, and attempted to get Eliza to help, but the girl was too traumatized to be of any assistance, and later, too frustrated.

         She fixes her eyes on a barren tree in the distance and it becomes a game. She counts how many seconds it takes for them to reach the tree and when they pass it, she sets a new target and does the same. In this manner, she makes the silence and endless walking more bearable. 

         “Do you think we’re almost there?”

         Joaneveive closes her eyes and tries to will away her impatience. Eliza asks every couple of minutes, and Joan is the only person who is willing to listen…not that she necessarily has a choice.

         “No. We weren’t ‘almost there’ five minutes ago, and I don’t think we’ll be ‘almost there’ in another five minutes, either.” She can’t help but shoot a sideways glare at the younger girl.

         What does she think this place looks like? she wonders. The road ahead of them is straight and barren. Does she think a trap door is going to open in the ground and lead us to this hideout of theirs?

         “Well all right. No need to—”

         “Shut your mouth,” the Nocen behind them snarls. “You have no business knowing where we are taking you or when we are getting there.”

         The girl pales and falls silent immediately.

         Joan walks a little faster despite her aching feet. They stop for brief rests every few hours, but they don’t sleep. Her breathing has been at the same slow pace for hours now, but at the Nocen’s irritation, her heart begins to pound faster and a rush of adrenaline pumps through her. Shoulders and arms tense, she tries to make herself as discrete as anyone in her position can.

         That, however, does not stop the Nocen. He continues to mutter angrily, and Joan continues to hear snarling and growling. All her nerves are on end and all she wants to do is move away from the angry Nocen.

         Eliza responds in a manner that is much more dangerous.

         She begins to sob.