Gabrielle

Smoke Them Out

The sun baked my fare skin, frying me under its unforgiving rays in an attempt to steal away any remanence of moisture from my bath. From where I crouched, rather low to the compact beaten earth, next to a refreshing patch of flowering crops, I could see Nolan diligently chopping wood quite perfectly while still being able to scan the trees every so often. I was nervous to be outside, out in the open. I didn't know how close Bram was to finding me or how much control he had gained over the dome by now.

I knew I was hiding away here but I had no plan, no weapon, no strength to go back with yet. Looking at Nolan heave his ax down on a thick block of wood, I felt that despite my anxiety, I was safe here for the time being.

Nolan was stoic and a bit brooding, but this was his home and I had no doubts he would die before letting anyone mess with it. The toned muscles of his body gave me solace as I soaked up the golden rays and calmed my inner soul.

"Is it helping?" Nolan called over to me, my location being compromised in an instant. I nearly flinched at the suddenness of his voice in the breeze.

"Is what helping?"

"Watching me." He turned towards me, his hand swiping across his sweaty forehead as he zeroed in on me. "You seem to do it a lot."

"I don't." My legs wiggled me further past the crops, shielding me from his pensive eyes of judgment and speculation.

"Of course not." The corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly. It was a quick gesture I almost didn't catch with my limited view.

His broad shoulders slumped, the heavy looking, shimmering ax in his callused hand swinging to rest on the stump causally. The microscopic glint of humor had dissipated from his expression almost at swiftly as it had come. There was not a shred of alarm or suspense in his body language but I watched his curious eyes scan the tree line far behind me. My blood ran cold, my muscles tightening in a painful seize of panic. I turned my head slowly to see what he was looking at and found nothing alarming.

We stared in unison until a clumsy deer stumbled awkwardly onto the bounties of Nolan's land. She was young, barely a few months old. I could instantly tell she had done a great deal of running.

My knees hit the ground gently, my hands supporting me as I crawled cautiously towards her. There was no mistaking the panic in her eyes, the fear swirling around her like a toxic mist. She didn't run when I met her my the nearest tree, she didn't so much as flinch as I slid my index fingers to brush right beneath her eyes.

"What a beautiful girl." I cooed, repeating the brush of my fingers. "Show me what's wrong."

Her thoughts came to me almost too easily, rushing at me in half blurred images and snippets of dizzying memories. It was choppy, out of control. I couldn't focus on anything or pull anything out of the blur. The motion was almost too much for me to hold on to, I felt myself slipping, vomit crawling up my chest. But suddenly all grew still and I was grounded firmly in a twisted memory.

Speet. The sound of a spear going into the dirt in a vicious thrust was the first thing that hit me and almost made me falter with its aggression. I felt my skin shrivel as I noticed the man who had thrown the smoothly sharpened stick to be Bram. He looked rough. My mother's blood was still splattered all over him in a disgusting array of dried horror and a terrifying gash at the side of his hairline from where I had bashed in his head with every ounce of my strength bled into the mess. Dark bags under his eyes and the redness hugging his pupils told me plenty of his anger and relentlessness in my capture. I shivered at the image as he scowled down to a group of wild wolves from the far western end. I recognized multiple of them in being participants in vicious acts that has been presumed to be isolated incidents.