The Hunted

chapter two

   It was still early morning as we ate by the fire. We hadn't left the camp yet, wanting to eat and discuss our "game plan" before we did. The air grew stiff as a gust of wind passed over us. I could almost hear whispering voices. Voices I recognized. Scar, my sister, and everyone else, all whispering to me through the wind. To elaborate, I was hearing the voices of the dead. How had there been this few survivors?

   I cleared my throat. "Are there any others who lived?"

Father, Aren, and I waited for Abbus' response.

   Finally, he said,"Well of course. They're probably pretty far North by now, though. Just picked up their things and ran." 

   Relief spread over our faces. The survivors weren't immediate family to any of us, because we'd already seen their bodies. But they still might be our friends. 

   "Do you know who they are?" Aren asked, reading my mind.

"I'm not exact. There are two girls and one boy," Abbus replied.

   "Do you think we could catch up with them by nightfall?" said Father.

Abbus nodded."Most likely."

   Before we headed after them, we stopped to search through my family's cave for useful items to bring with us on our journey. Mother's kitchen blade was tucked under a stone. A bowl of nuts and a pouch of herbs were found there as well. I took the fancy tunic off of my sister. She'd been wearing it the night before, since she had gone to the Global Market. That had been where all of the expensive foods and clothing were sold. Piff, short for Repiffona, was the young woman who owned the market. Father had said he'd seen her get speared by an arrow. 

  Aren found a bottle of ink, a writing utensil, and a pearl necklace sitting on the large log that had served as my father's desk. 

   Finally prepared, we began to walk. But before we had completely left the camp, one thought arose in my mind. 

   I would never see this camp again. Or my dead family. Or my herd friends who had been killed. I was leaving them all behind. Never to return. Forever.

   Distracted, I stopped walking. Abbus turned around, and hit me again. 

"Keep moving, Fig. Gotta find the survivors before the sun sets."

   Aren tripped suddenly, and rolls down a small hill. She was abruptly stopped by a tree. I heard a snapping noise.

   "Aren!" I screamed, perhaps a little too protectively. Abbus sighed impatiently as Father and I hurried to her.

   Aren wasn't hurt much at all. Her knee was scraped and bleeding, and her cheek was cut. Aren sat up, frowning.

  "Don't worry guys, it's nothing!" she said, combing her tangled hair with her fingers."Stop doing that. It creeps me out."

    "But, but," I stuttered,"I heard a snapping noise. And how was I supposed to know that? Maybe next time you're really hurt, I won't check to see if you're okay!" 

   "Fig, calm down. You don't need to get so angry all the time. I landed on a stick!"

My face turned red. This was humiliating. This type of thing would happen all the time. I would be a devoted friend, when it seemed like the right time to be one, and Aren would totally blow me off.  She'd make me feel stupid. Then, when I got mad, she would act like I had anger issues.

  Abbus, obviously feeling the heat of this conversation between us, said,"Look, ladies. Now's not the time to argue about crap that no one really cares about."