Circles in the Dust (15 page)

             
There was a burst of red mist and a soft thud as the man’s face erupted in a spurt of blood. He lurched back and fell into the fire, scattering the embers and sending a shower of sparks skyward.

             
David lowered his bow, hands steady, and took a deep breath as he listened to the crackling of the fire carried to him by the wind. He was reaching for another arrow when he noticed the other boy was running toward him now, hands gesturing wildly for David to come to him. He replaced his unused arrows in their quiver and slung his bow over his shoulder. He joined his companion a little way down the slope.

             
The boy was out of breath but managed to sneak a few chuckles in between gasps for air as David waited, now the impatient one, for the full story.

             
“He saw me – smile,” he began, “when I – saw – his truck.”

             
“Truck…?”

             
David followed the boy as he turned and ran down toward the camp, pointing over the man’s body into the woods toward a large pick-up parked in a thick clump of old trees.

             
“He must have used the last of his gas getting out here,” the boy said as he ran. “I haven’t seen a truck this far out of the city in years.”

             
“That explains how he got all this stuff out here,” David mused. He made his way over to the vehicle behind his friend and peered over the edge of the bed to see piles and piles of—

             
“Food!” the boy yelled as he peered in. There were stacks and stacks of thick metal cans and plastic bags, more food than David had seen since he had been banished to live out here in the woods. He grinned and they embraced each other in victory.

             
There was a pop and David’s attention was drawn to the fire, where the corpse of the man smoldered. His face lay to the side, half in the flames, the skin sagging and dark. His hair had been singed off on one side and his mouth drooped in a lazy grimace. The man’s eyes were both still intact though, and focused intently on David’s.

Chapter 17

The pop of a snapping twig woke David and dragged him suddenly from his unwelcome reverie. He shook himself and rubbed his face, looking out into the forest, making sure this was reality. The image of the dying man hovered before his eyes, superimposed over the real world. He could see it clearly when he closed his eyes. His fingers caught in the tangles of his beard, which he decided was enough of a pinch to convince him he was truly awake. There was no sign of the source of the noise that had awoken him, though the moon cast a bright glow. He stopped and sat motionless for a minute but heard nothing else. The crackle of a fire still played in his head but he knew that was not a part of this world.

             
He stood up and took the blanket off his shoulders, allowing the night air access to his skin. The cool air flowed around his neck and arms, around his ankles. He savored it, bringing the hairs on his skin to attention. The cold sank into his flesh, brushing away the comfort and warmth that had led him to sleep. It was an invigorating distraction.

             
Once he felt firmly awake and the cold began to take the feeling from his limbs, David allowed himself to move again. He walked over to Elizabeth and leaned over to drape his blanket over her, pulling it snugly up to her cheek, his hand once again hesitating as he tried to pull it away, drawing out the contact of his skin with hers. He straightened up and began a circuit around the small clearing they had settled into.

             
It was about a hundred paces around and ringed with the pines David held so dear, a few fir and maples scattered here and there. A multitude of saplings testified to the Earth’s healing, and tugged at his belt as he walked by them, their soft needles clinging to his legs. The ground was damp under the trees but the first frost would come soon enough. There were even a few wildflowers interspersed throughout the open glade, enjoying the last few weeks before the fleeting heat was gone.

             
As the night dragged on, the coming dawn taking its merry time, David began to venture out of the clearing and into the forest, always coming back when he realized Elizabeth was no longer in sight. These woods were much like his own, and he was enjoyed the feeling of home they gave him. He couldn’t help looking up above to search for the tree that marked his cabin, and his heart sank a little when it was nowhere to be seen, not even a tree that could dare to be mistaken as his own. There were berry bushes scattered under the arms of trees, but there was no fruit on any of them. Even the young, unripe fruit had been plucked. A chill ran down his spine.

             
He stood under a pine, the tallest one he had come across thus far, and decided to climb it, thinking he might be able to see his own tree off in the distance. The moon shone, not nearly as brightly as the sun, and he knew the chances were slim, but he needed something to pass the time and it was close enough to where Elizabeth lay that he wouldn’t be abandoning his duty as watchman entirely, so he wrapped his arms around the trunk and had just placed his foot on the bark when he heard something and froze. Another snapping stick. David made his way as quietly as he could back to his pack, where he untied his bow from where it had been bound, along with his quiver of arrows, which he hooked to his belt.

             
He backed into the trees, orienting his face in the direction he had heard the snap. After a minute of waiting with pent-up breath, there was another snap, followed by a slow and steady thud. Someone was coming, walking carelessly in this direction. As they approached he could tell they were not trying terribly hard to be quiet. He looked down at Elizabeth lying dead to the world and wished they had thought to sleep amongst the trees where they would be better hidden from any passersby.

             
The footsteps kept approaching, accompanied by the snapping of more dead wood and the swish of shrubs and bushes being pushed out of the way. David thought he even heard a cough, though that at least was muffled. He reached down, thinking he could wake Elizabeth up or slide her out of sight, but was afraid she would make some noise as she awakened, and the last thing he wanted was to bring whoever was coming straight to them. He glanced up at the forest from where the footsteps sounded, then back at the slumbering girl. He was torn. He should have woken her when he first arrived. He cursed himself. He wasn’t used to having others around, he had been alone for so long. He ended up crouching behind the tree closest to Elizabeth, bow at the ready, pistol tucked in a pocket somewhere in his pack, useless at the moment.

             
Who could be out wandering the woods at night? David wished he could find out. An Outlier might not be so bad, though it could throw off his plans later. He had hoped to make it to the Base unseen. They might not be openly aggressive, but he didn’t feel they would welcome another mouth to feed either. They would probably just try and run him off. He would just have to make sure they left Elizabeth alone. If it were someone from the Base, he might not have so much to worry about. Actually, he corrected himself, Elizabeth would not have so much to worry about. His would be an unfamiliar face in hostile territory. They might be out looking for her. His heart stopped for a moment as that sunk in. They would find him standing over her in the dead of night. Who wouldn’t shoot first and ask questions later?

             
The footsteps grew louder and louder, echoing through the silence of midnight so that David had a good idea what direction they were coming from, a little to the left of the moon, though he could not be sure where they were headed, hopefully further to the left. Louder and louder the tramp of feet continued. Suddenly the thought that there may be more than one person approaching punctured David’s brain. He could feel his hands trembling. One he could most probably handle; especially if they approached thinking there was only one person lying unconscious on the ground. One arrow and they would be safe again. Two, though, and he would have to be fast. Three and they were finished. Elizabeth would be at least. Why hadn’t he pulled her to safety or woken her up? He had taken responsibility for the life of all the people back at the Base, and he couldn’t even protect this one. Maybe he should just turn and run now. He could slink off without being heard. There were no guarantees for him anyway. She had plopped down right there before they talked about anything like this. If they found her, it was her own fault, right?

             
The footsteps dimmed, fading from David’s hearing little by little. It seemed they would be safe tonight, David allowed himself to think. He released the tension in his bowstring and let his head fall, breathing a sigh of relief. He blinked a few times and looked over to the left, paralyzed as he saw a dark figure flitting between the trees. Someone was coming this way; they must have heard him earlier, they must have been trying to throw off this intruder in their woods so they could ambush them; they were floating quietly over the soft carpet of needles now. And they were making a beeline for the clearing.

             
David’s breathing quickened and he couldn’t move. He drew back his arrow and thought about simply killing this wanderer. It’s not like it would be the first time. He felt his eyes drawn down to the sliver of Elizabeth’s face that was visible between the blanket and her hair, and suddenly he softened. He couldn’t kill this person in cold blood; maybe they were from the Base, looking for Elizabeth. What if it was her father? When you’re alone and have no one, there is no hesitation, no wondering what the effects of a death will be, because there are none. It was so easy. Now he had someone, there were more entities in his world. Killing the wrong person could send him spiraling to his own death. The world had become so complicated.

             
David rose, careful to avoid making any noise. He set his feet on the ground, gradually putting more and more pressure on them, one after the other, sidestepping away from Elizabeth. The stranger was approaching swiftly and David only had a minute or two before he would be close enough to see her. The thought that his dirty brown blanket covered her fluorescent sleeping bag gave him a moment of relief as he continued to march like a crab through the underbrush. He continued in this semicircle until he was perpendicular with the path of the dark figure. He took one step backward into the shadow of a thicket of burly pillars, letting the night itself be his cover.

             
He stood straight up, drawing his bow back once more, taking aim on a certain trunk the man would pass in just a few moments. He slowed his breathing, taking aim, waiting for the right moment. The figure continued in its straight path, closer, and closer, nearly to the tree David had chosen.

             
There was a quiet twang and the slap of a bowstring against David’s sleeve, followed a split second later by the crunch of bark and the thud of an arrow burying itself in wood, and the figure stopped, the arrow quivering inches from their face. David saw them look his direction and all around him, searching for their attacker, but he was standing in the midst of shadow and couldn’t be seen. He let the fear of the unknown set in for a moment before making his presence known. He turned his head and lowered the pitch of his voice.

             
“Drop your weapons.”

             
The figure snapped its head back in David’s direction. A hood drooped over their face. They raised their hand and David saw the familiar glint of a pistol muzzle, waving from side to side a little, trying to pinpoint David’s location.

             
“Now,” David bellowed as the figure defied his order. There was a slight pause, the muzzle straining to find a target in the dark wood.

             
“No,” the figure shouted back, his deep voice wavering. “What do you want?”

             
A second arrow came out of the wood and struck the tree, closer than the first to the man’s head. He jumped and cursed under his breath and let his pistol rotate around his finger then fall to his feet.

             
“Take off your hood,” David answered. “And step into the light.”

             
The figure, beaten but curious, obliged. He stepped forward and was bathed in the ethereal moonlight.  David caught his breath. Illuminated before him was a face obstructed and framed on all sides by a shaggy black mane. He wore a stony expression, though his wide eyes betrayed his fear.

             
“What the…?” David uttered to himself, unable to believe this was really who he thought. Louder, he shouted, “Mitch?”

             
His eyes widened. He stood at a distance but David could still see the change in his visage. The man tried to speak but floundered in his first few attempts.

             
“Wh—wh—Who’s out there?” he finally managed to call out. “How do you know who I am?”

             
“What are you doing out here?” David tried to keep his voice firm but couldn’t help but feel his own fear flow out of his bones.

             
“Who’s there?”

             
“You never could help going out to see what made a noise in the woods, could you, Mitch?” David called back.

             
“How do you—” Mitch began as David took a step forward toward him. He kept his head down as he advanced. Mitch’s hand twitched toward his hip as he heard David’s footsteps, which a vicious “Hands in the air!” from David arrested. A smile was battling his hard expression as he walked toward the terrified man in front of him, but he suppressed it. He could see Mitch licking his lips, eyes darting to either side, obviously contemplating a dash through the night, though he remained planted in his place.

             
David kept an arrow nocked on his bowstring, trained on Mitch’s heart as he came closer and closer. He came to within ten feet of him and decided to have a little fun, stopping in a closer pool of shadow.

             
“Any last words, Mitch?”

             
“Last words? What? I thought—Please, who are you? Don’t hurt me, we can talk this out—” The panic inside the man showed itself in the violent shaking of his jaw as he tried to beg for his life while his nervous feet squirmed as if the ground were suddenly too hot to stand on. He tucked his head down in his shoulders, trying to make himself a smaller target, even scrunching his face up around his nose. “Why wouldn’t you just—Come on, please—I’ll do anything.”

             
David almost couldn’t take it anymore, the laughter was coming up too strongly now. He reflected for a moment that this was a part of the old David he had obviously not shed quite yet. He would get there. Eventually.

             
“Dance.”

             
Mitch gave him a quizzical, disbelieving look. “Dance…?”

             
“Dance, now!” David shouted, bringing the arrow back to his cheek. Mitch began sobbing and kicking his feet around in a little jig. His hands jerked and twitched as he whirled them around while keeping them tucked defensively against his body. That pushed David over the edge. He guffawed and turned away, not trusting himself to keep the arrow pulled back while laughing. He shot it into the ground a few feet away and let his laughter come. Mitch jumped as the arrow dove into the ground beside him and let out a whoop. He took a hesitant step away from David, who had doubled over, his face still not visible to Mitch.