The Huntsman

Chapter 9 - Faith Experienced

Four Months Later

Anxiously I waited by the door looking out. Wyatt had not returned.

He was late.

He'd been late before.

He'd never been three days overdue before though.

Something was wrong.

He'd specifically forbidden me to ever come after him, but what did that matter when love said to do otherwise. I let my hand settle down over the gentle rounding of my abdomen that was the living evidence of life growing within my womb.

Not only did I need Wyatt, but so did our child. I turned back into the room decision made.

I was going out after him. He'd be angry, but he'd get over it.

I dressed appropriately in muted colors that would fit in with the greening up of the springtime environment outside. Going to a drawer, I pulled out my insurance policy.

The pistol gleamed dully in the dim light of the cave. It was a last-ditch occurrence only that would necessitate the use of the gun. Firing a gun in these perilous times could be more perilous for the attention the noise brought than for any benefit the bullet served.

I closed the door of the cave securely. I hoped to return to this little place of heaven that so many good things had occurred in, but the future was uncertain.

Was I doing the right thing? I didn't know.

Were pregnancy hormones addling my perceptions? There was only one way to know the truth of the matter. I sank to my knees and brokenly asked, "God am I doing the right thing? Is there any benefit to me going out or should I for the baby's sake stay here?"

I couldn't bring myself to ask if Wyatt was even alive for fear of what the answer might be. A breeze blew and I had a feeling course through me that accumulated into one felt emotion that echoed across my entire being, "Go!"

I got up and armed with hope I made my way down from our protected sanctuary and started running in the direction that I felt led to go. The running lasted for an hour and then I settled into walking even as I scanned about for evidence of any kind. I found none.

I searched the rest of the day and into the shadows of evening. I had come to the point of having to stop my quest for the night when I found something.

Kneeling in an area of wet ground I felt about in the mud at an impression made by a boot. It had recently been made. Very recently.

Wyatt had done a lot to teach me over the past several months and in the darkness I felt at the sharp crisp edges of the boot impression in the mud. The impression had been made by a new boot with full tread. That was not good. Not good at all.

The only men with boots like that were those who worked for the killers of society. Everything else in the world of survival had become aged and worn with use, but the hunters sent out to eliminate those few who had survived had only the best of everything with which to do their grisly task with.

I had seen a squad of them from a distance about a month back with Wyatt when we had been berry picking together. Since that occurrence, he'd made me stay in the cave. I left off feeling the boot imprint and following an urge of sudden caution I eased my way along the ground to the sheltering protection of some understory growth and there I silently waited listening.

It was a force of will, not to hold the gun with my finger on the trigger. I could afford no mistakes and giving away my position would be the worst one of all if I should pull the trigger by accident so I left the gun tucked into my waistband.