In the Panther's Wake

Chapter 20

I open my eyes and it's dark, starless, moonless. I sit up fast and realise I must have drifted off. Markus is still sleeping beside me and I gently shake him until he wakes up. He looks at me bleary eyed and yawns. I pass him the bottle and he sits up and drinks, gazes around in the dark.

"How are we going to climb down?" he asks, "I can barely see."

"Carefully," I say.

Markus smiles faintly, shrugs.

"We can do this. We've made it this far. Think of the hell we've survived. We just have to focus on what lies ahead, not behind."

Markus nods and I know he wants to be as determined as me, but something is still eating away at him.

"Like always, Markus. I'll lead the way, scout ahead, you follow."

Markus nods and staggers to his feet.

I hold him up, glance over my left shoulder, "No Death, Markus. Not yet."

I turn to face the cliff drop, begin searching for a way around. I can't see any path that looks safe, can barely see anything at all.

"Bandi, here."

I quickly move over to where Markus' outline is standing. He has his back-pack on, ready to move, and there seems to be a ridge leading north, but down off the mountain at least.

"It's a start," he says, and his voice sounds stronger, he sounds ready.

I pat my big brother on the shoulder, "Then down we go."

Hunched low we walk carefully, watching every step, every foot hold. The rock crumbles in the dry earth and huge chunks of stone fall and tumble down from under our feet. I scour for a passage that would take us east, but the drop is still too steep, too high. North remains the only way we can hike.

After a few hours of following the ridge, heading downhill, the mountainside finally opens up and begins to flatten out, allowing us to veer east towards the trenches. A grim smell, one I know all too well, begins drifting up towards us, brought on by heavy winds hurtling up the slope. It's the smell of rot, dead things. I sniff, glance at Markus, who gives me a knowing look, but we carry on without a word.

We pass between two tall pointed rocks that claw at the sky and the stench grows deeper, fouler. The first trenches are just a hundred metres below us now, and we approach more slowly, the night coming to an end. I can see further, the grey battlefield looming low and vast.

There's barely any cover, only rocks, the occasional burnt out tree stump and fallen timber, all of it charred and black. There's just one open area to cross, before we can drop into the first of the trenches. There's a barbed wire fence torn up, blocking our path, and then sandbags piled high around the brim of the trench. I glance around one last time before making a dash for it, stepping lightly as I can.

I leap over the barbed wire but it cuts my ankle mid jump, and I clench my teeth to avoid crying out. I use my hands to vault over the low wall of sandbags and drop into the trench. My chest heaves as I back up against the earth wall, as Markus tumbles down from above, landing beside me.

"I didn't see anyone," I say.

"We should still be careful."

The sun is rising ahead of us and keeps us on course as we wind through the paths, carved in the mud long ago. They're not as steep as they once were; the wind over the years has blown heaps of earth and stone down into the passages. We have to stay low and keep our heads down to avoid being seen, by anyone or anything that might be lurking.