The Hunt

Chapter 18: Naya

I feel vulnerable and defeated. Javaar has somehow convinced me to open up to him and tell him all my strategies, how I pulled off the largest scheme I've ever done, and somehow still holds a threat over my head.

I'm going to kill him. I don't know how, but I am.

Tonight though, the chunky man is on watch, and I try a few distractions, but none work. I'm going to have to make a thought out plan to be able to take out this group.

So when morning comes, even though I am extremely tired because I haven't slept in days, I start thinking about what I'm going to do.

How can I exploit their weaknesses or feuds with each other? How can I target their anger or get them isolated from each other?

The problem with this group is that they're experienced exiles. They've been here awhile, they know how surviving works. So they haven't talked too much around me, and they haven't given me my knife or fully trusted me yet. But maybe the fact that Javaar trusts me a little, might convince them to. After all, he does have a reputation.

We're walking to Tanek now. Making the long traverse to the town. I usually only travel to Tanek at night or in bad weather, so the fact that we're going in broad daylight makes me nervous.

I see the pine trees start to fall out and more evergreen trees come in. The forest starts to get a little more open, and so sunlight is heating up all the layers I'm wearing. I throw around the idea of taking off the big coat, but decide I don't want to carry anything.

We're going uphill now, a small slope, and I hear something on the other side of the ridge. Almost like shouting. Or talking. Sounds of people. Lots of them.

And when we get to the top of the ridge and look down at the strip of land next to the wall of Tanek, I am awestruck.

Dozens of exiles are all crowded by the wall. Some are separated from others, in their own groups, and some are arguing or trading with other exiles from other groups. There are lots of exiles fighting each other, and some dead bodies on the ground from brawls that ended badly. But most of the people are swarming the one spot on the wall that's climbable, and they're viciously clambering to get to the top, up and over the wall.

"What in the world...." the leader of our group says.

"I've never seen so many exiles together like this. What do you think they're doing?" the woman in our group asks.

"Let's find out," Javaar says, and without another word, tromps down the hill.

Curiosity is overwhelming me, but I don't let it show.

Exiles never socialize. Never. They stay away from each other, and if they do happen to run into each other, they either form groups or kill each other off. But this, this is like a mess of animals thrown together, fighting, shouting, avoiding each other and some even stealing, in broad daylight.

But all of them stayed here. As if they were waiting for something.

Our group stays on the outside of all of this, but Javaar is rushing towards a knot of young women.

"What's going on?" he asks, using a slightly more childish voice to persuade them he's a small hopeless boy.

These women don't fall for it, "Back off kid!"

"I said, " Javaar stands up straighter and talks in a lower voice, "tell me what's going on."

One of the women pulls out a wicked looking knife, "Don't screw with us kid, we don't have no food for you."

"Do you know who I am?" Javaar asks.

"Some punk who better scram before we carve out his heart," the woman with the knife held it out towards him.

"I'm the prince of the forest. Ever heard of me, or maybe my father, Ajamil Kadam?"

The women murmur with each other. They know the name. Gossip spreads fast these days.

"Oh, so you do know. Well, here's the deal. My father knew some people in the city, some people who know who I am as well. These are not people you want to mess with. So, do you think killing the son of Ajamil will make them happy?"

I'm studying Javaar, and the way he talks to these women. He seems so much older when he stands up straight and takes his hands out of his pockets, and speaks in a lower voice. He acts omnipotent even though he can't be older than fifteen.

I look at the group beside me, the three men and the woman. No wonder they respect Javaar so much. He really is a valuable thing to own.

The woman puts away the knife.

"Good. Now I'll try this again. What's going on?"

"Didn't you hear? The hegemon himself has posters put up all over the wall. Apparently he lost something outside the gates, something that's very priceless to the city of Surga. The posters say it's a key to The Box. To hell if any of us know what The Box is, but they've offered a reward for the exile who finds it," one of the women explains.

"What kind of reward?"

"They'll let you back into the city," the woman smiles.

Something inside of me sparks. That small kindle of revenge, that flicker of the fantasy I have in my mind.

And all in the same moment, I see that look in every face around me.

Everybody is thinking the same thing: I need to find this key.

"So why is everyone here?" Javaar asks.

"People think that city folk might know something about this key and where it is. We've been waiting for days for the wall to clear up, but it doesn't look like anyone is letting anyone through. Unless you want to search the bushes for the key, Tanek is your best shot at a clue."

I look over at the wall, where the woman is pointing, and watch the ongoing chaos as exiles become vicious animals and scramble for a foothold or something on the wall. It's like a vicious game of king of the hill.

All for a small chance at a small clue that will lead to a small possibility of freedom.

"We should go. Javaar, come," the leader of our group says.

"But what about the food? And I can climb over the wall without using those footholds and handholds! I can climb any other part of the wall and get in!" Javaar has the hungry, excited look in his catlike eyes.

"It's too dangerous," the woman in our group replies.

"Think about if I get inside though! We could be one of the first people to get a clue on where this key is! We could do it, we could get a headstart!" Javaar looks back longingly at the wall.

I look at all the exiles waiting in front of the walls, fighting each other, risking confrontation with other groups, risking death.

I want more than anything to do the same. This is my opportunity for revenge, this is my chance to get inside those gates. If I had the key to The Box, and was let in, I could follow out my revenge.

I can almost see the soldiers in those uniforms from my memories, grabbing my arms as I struggled to break free, a desperate eight year old girl. I can almost see them ripping my doll from my hands, and injecting me with some sort of tranquilizer.

I can almost taste my revenge.

"Who made you leader of this group?" Javaar shouts.

"Well you sure as hell aren't leader!" the leader guy steps forward.

"I'm the prince! I have a right to find this key!" Javaar's eyes gleam.

"You're just a stupid kid, you don't have any right-"

"Stop it!" the woman in the group stops everyone, "Let's just go back and find a spot for the night, and we can work this out tomorrow."

Tension sizzles between Javaar and the leader as they stare at each other. I can almost feel the hatred radiating off of them.

Javaar finally huffs and stomps back up the hill. The two men and the woman calm down the leader guy.

I spend one last minute looking at the wall. Wondering if there's a clue inside the town. Wondering where the key to The Box is.

I finally rip my eyes away and follow.