Becoming (15 page)

Jack and Gaia stayed at the table, exchanging stories and telling jokes. Gaia had never laughed as much. The memory of the night’s escape, of Hakan and Clara had been nudged to one side. Jack was her tonic, her therapy. Gaia asked the old man many questions, about the world before, about life within and outside of the community. Jack was coy when speaking of the community, wary in contrast to his relaxed openness on most other topics. The old man dodged many of the questions, shifting attention with a joke, a reference to something else, or a question of his own. After a while Jack went quiet, something forced its way into his mind, something he had buried or been avoiding.

‘What’s wrong Jack?’

Jack’s face was stern, his mood shifted. For the first time Gaia noticed the weathered cracks in his face. Without the glow of joy and laughter the old man looked weary.

‘You don‘t have long here young lady. You’ll have to leave soon. Maybe an hour. They’ll be after you now. You know that?’

‘Yes, I know, but I’m trying not to think about that for now. It’s nice just talking to you. I’ve never done this before. It seems strange saying that, but the leaders never treat us in this way.’

‘I know my dear. The community have all been robbed of the wonder of being young. You aren’t allowed to enjoy your youth and they make sure no-one ever gets old.’

There was a long pause. Jack stared at his hands, rubbing his fingertips against his thumb in a slow, steady circular motion. After a while the old man spoke, his voice cracked, just above a whisper.

‘I wish I could be your age again. You’ve everything to live for when you’re young, but they take it from you. At least I had the opportunity to grow old. It’s made me cherish my younger days even more. Don’t waste these years. Promise me, you’ll make the most of them.’

Gaia reached forward across the table and cupped Jack’s hands. She had so many questions, but there was so little time. A thought popped into her mind, something bizarre but important at that time.

‘You’ve got milk. Fresh milk. How come? Do you have cows?’

‘Ah, yes the milk! Come with me, there’s something I want to show you.’

Jack rose and took a walking stick from near the door. He led Gaia out of the farmhouse and through the courtyard behind the house. They followed a dirt track down the hill, through a gate and over a stile into a field. At the end of the field were some woods. Jack led Gaia to the edge of the trees and paused at an opening. He beckoned Gaia to come alongside him and pointed through a gap. There was a large open area beyond the trees, and in the centre were a herd of large white cattle. They were all the cleanest and purest white. Some had long curled horns, and swishing tales with tufts of hairs on the end. Others were slightly smaller and without horns. There were the calves, suckling from bulging udders. It was a large herd, maybe forty or fifty in total. Gaia gazed in wonder, transfixed by their majesty and beauty. The beasts were like nothing she had ever seen. The horned cattle looked proud, muscular and strong. They were alert, looking all ways, keeping watch and protecting the others. Jack whispered to Gaia.

‘They’re a special herd called the Chillingham cattle. They’ve been here for centuries. No-one knows where they came from, but this is their domain. I watch over them. They know me, trust me, and the mothers let me milk them.’

Gaia looked on, mesmerised.

‘They’re so beautiful. They look so pure.’

‘They’re magnificent creatures, but you must be wary of them. They don’t take to strangers. The bulls are wild, and a bit mad.’

The calves that had finished feeding were playing, butting heads with one another, chasing, and skipping as the adults watched on. Their mothers and fathers stood protecting them. Parents Gaia had never known. Gaia thought about Jack’s words, the centuries they had lived here in this small part of the world, how no one owned them, how they lived wild and free to roam as they pleased. Jack took Gaia by the arm.

‘Come with me.’

The old man led Gaia along the edge of the hedgerow that lined the fence, and further down the hill to the far side of the woods. There was a gap which Jack ushered Gaia through. They entered the woods and stopped after a few yards. About six feet away lay the corpse of a calf. It was rotting, flies hovering over its decaying flesh, maggots devouring it. The once bright shiny white carcass was now dull and grey. Its head was large and deformed, the mouth open in anguish.

‘This is the thing you have to understand with the herd. They’re pure and breed only amongst themselves, so they’ve got a very narrow gene pool. That creates all sorts of problems, birth defects and mutations like this calf. When a calf is born, one of the males checks it over. If it’s pure it’s welcomed and reared by the herd. If there is anything wrong with it, even down to a marking on its hide, it’s taken away and left in the woods to die.’

‘What? Murdered!’

‘Yes. Murdered for the greater good. The herd can only survive if it maintains its purity, and doesn’t become contaminated. They won’t tolerate impurity, as it threatens their survival, and the survival of the herd is everything. That’s why the males are crazy. They’re inbred and that can lead to madness. Narrow gene pools, you see. It always leads to these problems. So what you see with the herd, it comes at a price. All is not what it seems.’

Jack led Gaia out of the woods, into the field and back up the hill. The sun was much higher in the sky now. It looked like a bright, warm day was ahead. The Chillingham cattle were etched on Gaia’s mind. Purity at all costs, and the preservation and survival of the herd. The sacrifice of the individual for the greater good. These were all things she knew well.

‘Were you ever a part of the community Jack?’

‘Not really. Not as you know it. Look at my eyes. What do you see?’

Jack stopped and faced Gaia, stretching his face, his eyes open wide.

‘They’re brown.’

‘Exactly. You know what that means to the community. I’m not pure. I’m contaminated.’

They moved on and Jack continued.

‘I was one of the survivors. Me and my wife. We were both very young when the poison came and everything collapsed, but we got through it. In the early days those that were left found each other and formed groups. It was the best way to survive. Those days were scary, everything was in chaos, it was lawless. People designated themselves leaders, and tried to organise things. They claimed it was better. Then came those that wanted to cleanse the community of the unwanted. Criminals were banished at first, then any dissenters, anyone who didn’t agree with how things were being run. Things got more extreme.’

Jack paused for a moment, bent forward hands on his knees, catching his breath.

‘The leaders issued decrees to purify the community. At first it was all about identifying the outsiders and segregating them, but people started to be expelled, more and more of them. Rumours started to spread that people were being murdered or fed to the creatures. It was madness. They started to set out more and more definitions of who were the pure. Then it was eye colour.’

Jack’s voice trembled. He was still out of breath, but Gaia knew it was more than that. Recounting those times must have been difficult.

‘Only those with blue eyes were classed as pure. Me and my wife knew we weren’t safe so we fled, along with many good people. The paranoia and obsession with control all led to what you were and not who you were. The community made us all criminals. We fled north, as we’d heard it was quieter here, that few had survived. We wanted to get as far away as possible from the madness. We found the farmhouse abandoned, and decided to make it our home. So that was how it happened. That was the community I knew.’

Gaia was shocked by Jack’s account, horrified by the way the community had developed, the things it had done to the others. They were innocents, people who were persecuted just for being different. All her life Gaia had been shaped by the community, her thoughts, memories, and history were all implanted by the leaders. Everything Gaia thought she knew, all she had ever known was only ever the community’s story. The young were given no other perspective or accounts. Now Gaia knew all she had been told by the leaders was a lie.

‘I hadn’t realised it was this way. That’s not the story the community told us. We’ve always been taught to be wary of the outsiders, that they’re all criminals and dangerous.’

‘They would tell you that. It’s all part of the control. Do I look dangerous? What do you remember of your childhood Gaia?’

Gaia could remember very little. There were flashing images, mainly of the old house and the dormitory where she was nurtured. The memory of the night before came to her again. The sense of being in the glass chamber as a baby. Were those memories or simply a dream?

‘I’ve some memories of a house where I was brought up with other children, but before that. I don’t know. I have dreams which may be memories of being a baby. I’m in some kind of glass incubator with lots of other babies.’

Jack stopped walking. He turned and took Gaia’s hand. His voice was calm and quiet. Tears were in his eyes.

‘I’m pretty sure they’re memories Gaia. Look at you and your friends and how you’ve been raised. The community breeds babies, in labs, like factories. There are no families. Your parents will exist somewhere, but not as parents just as egg and sperm donors. You’re bred to maintain that purity.’

Jack took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes.

‘The community is obsessed with survival and the leaders control of every aspect of life. Everything, especially childhood. They’ve stolen the joy of growing up, of belonging to a loving family and knowing your parents. You’ve all been engineered to perform a function, manufactured for the community to ensure its survival. That is all you are to them.’

Gaia could see the sorrow and pity seeping from every pore. Tears still trickled from Jack’s brown eyes, and his lips shook with emotion. Gaia knew it was true, maybe she had always known the truth. That was what drove her to escape the community, the lie she was living. The outside world was dangerous, and Gaia would face tough choices, but they would be her dangers to confront, and her decisions. Gaia would rather live a life in peril and die free, than spend the rest of her life being moulded by the community. She took Jack’s hand.

‘You’re right Jack, but not anymore. That’s why I fled the island, why I had to escape There’s something else out there for us. We’ve heard there are others, good people like you. There’s another community where things are different and people are free. It’s in the hills. Aran has a letter. I’ve seen it.’

Jack wiped his eyes again, and nodded.

‘There are others out there. I’ve heard the same, and met many good people over the years. I hope you find them, I really do, but please be careful. Not everyone is good.’

Jack squeezed Gaia’s hand and smiled. It was warm and sincere, from a pure heart. The old man’s eyes began to sparkle again.

‘We need to get back and wake your friends. You have to get going. You’ve got a long journey ahead of you.’

They set off and soon passed through the wooden gate, following the final stretch of dirt track that led to the farmhouse. They reached the door and kicked off their boots. Gaia went in the living room to wake the others, while Jack prepared some food in the kitchen for their journey. Gaia and the others gathered their things and packed. Jack insisted they take the provisions he had put together. There was some homemade bread, milk, cheese, and dried chicory leaves.

As they were about to leave and say goodbye Gaia took something from her rucksack. It was a necklace of St Cuthbert’s beads. She approached Jack, hugged him, and placed the necklace around his neck.

‘I want you to have this Jack. I made it myself. The beads are fossilised shells from the island. They’re unique to a particular beach. It’s my beach.’

Jack took out his handkerchief and dabbed his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Gaia and squeezed, as though he never wanted to let go.

‘Thank you.’

The group put on their boots and prepared to leave, everyone thanking Jack and saying more farewells. Jack followed them through the courtyard to the beginning of the dirt track.

‘Take care and whatever you do, avoid the woods.’

They set off down the track, while Jack remained at the top of the hill waving them goodbye. As Aran opened the gate at the bottom of the track, Gaia turned to wave at Jack one more time. The old man had gone.

12

The group walked for hours, through green fields and golden meadows speckled with red poppies and a rainbow of wild flowers. They climbed fences, leapt over brooks, ate wild berries, and the bread and cheese that Jack had given them. They drank the sweet milk from the Chillingham cattle, circled large woodland, and clambered up gentle hills. There was little conversation, each locked in thought, as they pressed on at a good pace. Aran was determined to make progress, and Freya followed his lead. Yann seemed to be in a world of his own, playful and dreamy, lost without the need for words. Gaia was preoccupied. Jack had thawed some of the ice she had used to protect her. Gaia tried to survive by disconnecting her emotions, it had always been her way. The journey would require all her strength, but the time spent walking, the time to think again, had churned up all the emotions she had tried to bury.

There was the sadness of leaving Jack. Gaia knew they would never meet again, and so did he. There was Clara, an innocent victim caught up in their plan. Gaia thought of Hakan. With little remorse for his death, Gaia was struggling to deal with what she had done and what it made her. Gaia was now a killer, not of creatures, but people, a murderer. There had been thoughts of killing people, mostly Kali, but a line had been crossed. Crossing it had been easy, the aftermath of emotion was not. Finally, Gaia thought of Aran. He had awoken something inside her, feelings she had not experienced before, and had not wanted to experience. Part of the reason Gaia agreed to escape was she wanted to be with him. Gaia could not stand the thought of staying on the island alone, wondering if he had made it, and was still alive. However, Aran was distant and only concerned with the escape. Aran said he needed her, but Gaia hoped this meant more than just her skills. She had hoped that Aran felt something, but there was little sign of that so far. Aran’s only interest was the journey, finding the river, and leading them to the hills.

It was late afternoon, and the group reached the brow of a small hill that looked down into a deep valley. A line of trees snaked inland. Through them there were the calm, flowing waters of a river. Aran stopped and savoured the glorious view. This is what he had been looking for, the next stage of their journey completed, the next milestone reached. Rivers flow to the sea from the trickle of a tiny source. Their birth lies far off in the hills. In this case the Cheviots hills of north Northumberland. Find the hills and they would be found was the message. Aran inhaled the crisp, fresh air, a feeling of triumph sweeping through him. Yann approached Aran and patted him on the shoulder.

‘We found it. Now what?’

‘We head down towards the woods. We’ll follow the edge of the treeline up the valley, and that’ll lead us to the hills.’

Freya sat on the grass and removed her rucksack. She lay back and closed her eyes.

‘Can we rest a bit. I’m knackered.’

‘No. We’ll head down to the trees and find a spot near the river. We can rest there for a few hours.’

Aran picked up Freya’s rucksack and dropped it on her stomach. Freya jumped at the shock of the weight. She sighed and stood again, and started to make her way down the hill at a brisk pace. The others followed. Gaia moved up beside Aran, with Yann trailing behind. Now Freya was leading and driving the pace. Gaia spoke to Aran.

‘Do you think they’re far behind?

‘I don’t know. They probably waited for the tide to drop, unless they used the boats. They’d have been able to cross early morning anyway. Let’s hope they didn’t find anything until then. I knew there was a river if we headed north, but it’s much farther than the one to the south. I’m hoping they’ll head for the other one thinking we would aim for the nearest. Either that or they’ll head straight for the hills and wait to head us off there. Who knows? What would you do, if you were them?’

‘I don’t know. I’d probably split into two groups. There are only four of us. They’ll have dogs. If Kali is leading they’ll be close now. Remember I’ve killed a leader. This isn’t just an escape, it’s much more than that now. Jack mentioned the other runners and that they’d been hunted down. I reckon they’re more likely to chase us rather than head us off. I hope you’re right and they’ve gone south, but we can’t take any chances.’

Aran frowned, still pushing forward, trying to keep pace with Freya who was almost jogging up ahead.

‘You’re right. We can’t afford to hang around. We need to keep moving, and rest when we can.’

‘Will we keep going through the night?’

‘Yes. They’ll try to avoid traveling at night. They’ll think it’s too dangerous, so we need to make the most of that to keep ahead. The hills aren’t that far away, and there’ll be plenty of time to rest when we get there. We have to keep going. We know what the leader’s are capable of.’

Aran and Gaia exchanged looks, as Gaia spoke.

‘OK. I’ll let you break it to the others. Freya doesn’t look in the best of moods.’

At Freya’s swift pace the group soon approached the woods. The sun was beginning to plunge into the line of the horizon. In a short while it would disappear and darkness would be upon them. The sky was clear and the moon would once again act as their guide and light the way. The moon would also highlight their presence to predators and their hunters. The woods would provide some protection. If the group stayed close to its edge, but still out of view they would see anyone creeping over the line of the valley above. That would be the only warning, buying them some time, but not much. Gaia hoped Aran was right and the leaders had headed south, and would not travel at night, but she had her doubts.

The group rested in the woods for a short while, ate some food and drank the remainder of the milk. Aran told the others of the plans for the night. Yann shrugged his shoulders, while Freya was less impressed, but showed no dissent. Freya was edgy and moody. Throughout the journey she had kept looking behind as if expecting to be caught at any moment. Gaia was watching her, wary and still not convinced Freya could be trusted. Freya’s nervous mood and twitchy behaviour only made Gaia question her more. Something was not right. Gaia could sense it, and would continue to be careful around her. Freya would show her hand at some point, and when the moment came Gaia would be ready.

Darkness had swept across the sky, the moon puncturing it with its cold white light. The group walked along the edge of the woods, using the trees as a flimsy disguise. The trees were thin enough to ensure the moonlight broke through and the group were not lost in total darkness. The undergrowth was light enough to forge a path without too much trouble, and just the occasional stumble. The only sounds were the crunch of boots as they stepped on the fallen twigs and branches. Gaia heard the hoot of an owl, its distinctive call far off in the woods, echoing in the night, a haunting sound. There was the odd rustle of leaves in the bushes, a night creature startled by their presence, darting to safety deeper in the thick blanket of vines. Gaia heard the sound of rushing water to their right, as the edge of the wood thinned and the river cut close by. It faded and the quiet returned, with only the rhythm of their steps to accompany them.

They arched around a bend and came to an opening in the woods. Before them, lit by the moonlight was a huge silvery web. Each strand glistened in the night as beads of condensation flickered a hazy glow from the shafts of moonbeams. The web stretched across the opening blocking their route. At its centre was a gorgeous pattern of intricate lines with long, thick strands of silver rope reaching out to the trees beyond. Each strand supported the main elaborate structure. It looked like a silver obstacle on a magical assault course.

Aran stopped and moved behind a tree, raising his hand as the others crept up to his shoulder. Aran lifted his finger to his lips. Each of them surveyed the trees around, looking for any sign of movement. Aran darted out of the woods and past the web, the others followed and moved back under the shade of the trees. They could see deeper into the woods now. There were more webs, a vast complex, an array of shapes and sizes. The webs covered most of the woodland in front, preventing anyone or anything getting through. There were no signs of the creators of the structures. No sights nor sound of the creatures that had spun the menacing display of ominous beauty.

Aran stopped and spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

‘Whatever made these things they’re big. We need to keep moving and keep as close to the edge of the woods as we can. Jack was right about the woods. There are too many dangers in here. What was that? Did you hear it?’

Aran sat upright, all his senses searching the night for a sound, sight, smell. Aran was sure he had heard something. Everyone listened. There it was again, a faint rattle like dried rice being sprinkled on a drum. It stopped, but came again, louder. There was another pause and silence. Gaia looked deep into the woods, as far as the veil of darkness would allow. There was nothing. Something small and bright burned in the blackness of the woods, two small red lights, moving towards them getting larger. They grew alongside each of the rattles, their brightness intensifying.

‘Something’s coming.’

Gaia pointed to the red lights. There was a noise, a cacophany of deafening screeches from above. Gaia looked up and saw the body first, then the long black legs of a spider plunging towards her from a branch above. She reached for her knife, but it was too late. The creature was upon her, wrapping its strong, thick legs around Gaia’s upper body preventing her from moving. The legs were covered in coarse, black hairs that felt like blades against the skin. Pressed in her face, the giant jaws of the creature salivated a treacle of white saliva upon her, as the spider continued to let out its terrifying shriek. Gaia was thrust back onto the ground, the creature still upon her, locked in its death grip. She felt a piercing pain in the throat, as if a hot poker had been plunged into her neck. Burning acid spread through her, and a feeling of nausea. She was dizzy and retched, almost choking on her vomit, as consciousness slipped away. Gaia gripped at images, but they faded, and it was darkness. Everything was gone. There was nothing. No thoughts, no images, no feelings. Nothing.

…………………………………

Gaia’s mind was ablaze with nightmare images. She was in a dark tunnel being pursued by a group of large spiders. There was a light, and a voice calling. The light grew brighter and a figure emerged, just the dark outline. It was a female voice, reaching out to Gaia, begging her to run faster, pleading, getting more and more frantic. The creatures were upon Gaia. The spiders caught her, pouncing one by one, wrapping their legs around her, and injecting their poison. In every nightmare Gaia thought she had made it to the end of the tunnel, to safety, but the creatures always won. As Gaia drifted away the voice was still calling her name.

Gaia awoke. Her head was throbbing with a piercing headache. Her throat felt like it was coated in sand. She tried to swallow, but struggled, went to move her body, but there was no response. Gaia concentrated on her fingers, but could not feel them, tried to move her  toes, but again there was nothing. She sat upright, looking forward, and could just make out the trees and bushes of the woods bathed in the silvery blanket of web. It was daylight with shafts of sunlight piercing the gaps in the trees. Gaia’s head was locked and facing forward. There was a sickness in the pit of her stomach. The nightmares had subsided, the memories of what had happened returned. Death was upon her, as Gaia drifted away again.

It was night, and Gaia was cold. Her body was numb with only a faint tingling sensation in her fingers and toes. The throbbing in Gaia’s head had eased, but her vision was blurred and there was still the urge to vomit. Her mouth was dry, like it had been stripped of all its skin. There was a noise and vibrations through the strands of web that bound her. It was the same rattling noise from the night they were attacked. It was quiet, distant, and intermittent at first. The rattle got louder, the vibrations stronger. Gaia sensed something by her side, heard the rattle, then it stopped.

There was a long pause, no sound or movement. Gaia saw it, a huge black monstrous ball of coarse black hairs with bulbous red eyes. The creature’s legs stretched out, straddling Gaia’s helpless body. Its scarlet eyes blazed, the dripping jaws inches from her face. Gaia could smell the spider’s rancid breath, see the thick saliva oozing from its mouth. Its teeth were large, pointed, and menacing. Gaia tried to move her arms, but she was trapped, wrapped in the binding coffin of web. Her veins still oozed with the burning poison that had paralysed her. This was the end, and Gaia was helpless. This was the moment of death, but Gaia felt no fear. Despite the imminent doom there was a strange calm, a resignation towards her fate.

The jaws of the spider moved closer, pressing close to her face. The creature surveyed her, smelling every inch of skin. It was poised, ready to make its move. The spider arched and stiffened. There was a deathly screech as the creature’s body lurched backwards. Someone was upon it, and with a few sweeping movements had driven a blade through its skull and a spear into its writhing torso. The assassin was sitting on the creature, waiting until they were sure it was dead. In the dim light Gaia could not make out the face. They moved forward and into view.

Freya took her knife and cut away the thick strands of web that bound Gaia who flopped forward into her arms. Gaia was limp and could not move her legs, or arms. Freya whispered in Gaia’s ear.

‘Keep quiet. I’m going to get us out of this.’

Freya threw Gaia onto her back and carried her to the edge of the woods away from the maze of spider’s webs. Freya set Gaia down at the base of a tree, wrapping her in a blanket, and placing a cup to Gaia’s lips. The spot was sheltered, concealing Gaia.

‘Here. Drink this. It tastes awful, but it’ll take away the numbness and sickness.’

Gaia drank the concoction as best she could. Her lips were still numb, as the liquid dribbled down her chin. Gaia’s throat raged with every gulp, but she managed to swallow, hoping it would ease the symptoms.

‘I need to go and get the others. Wait here. I’ll be back soon.’

A look of panic swept across Gaia’s face. Freya touched Gaia’s cheek. Freya’s look was warm and reassuring, then she sped into the woods. Gaia lay against the tree, as her body began to shiver, frenzied and uncontrollable. Her teeth were chattering. She was not sure if it was the effects of the potion, or her body feeling cold as the numbness wore off. Despite the discomfort Gaia thought it must be a good sign. The shivering eased and sickness subsided, as Gaia gazed up at the moon. Feeling began to return, though her mind was still fuzzy.

Freya slipped through the trees, alert, looking each way, pausing and listening, seeking out any signs of the spiders. As Freya reached the clearing there was a huge web. The others were wrapped in cocoons, their silvery coffins. Aran’s eyes were closed. Freya crept towards him and cut through the thick strands of webbing. He began to stir as Freya eased him from the cocoon and laid him over her shoulder, her legs buckling under his weight. A few metres away Yann hung, bound in the web. His eyes were flickering, sweat poured from his forehead. Freya carried Aran back through the trees, her movement strong and steady despite the heavy load.

Freya returned and set Aran down beside Gaia, giving him some of the bitter brew. Aran coughed and spluttered, but drank. He looked exhausted, his face an ashen white. Aran was only just conscious, and did not seem aware that Gaia was there, as his head flopped and rested against Gaia’s. Freya darted into the trees again, her steps light and assured. The spiders would be near, and would sense any vibrations.

As Freya reached the clearing a spider was edging its way across the web. The creature was creeping towards Yann whose eyes were now open his face filled with terror. He was trying to scream, but there was no sound. Freya gripped her knife and waited. The spider edged towards Yann, its huge black legs reaching out towards him. It paused for a moment, to sense vibrations, or look for danger. Freya waited till the spider was just upon Yann, its attention on the prey, then Freya lurched across the clearing and thrust her knife into its head. There was a loud crunch as the knife pierced the thick shell of the creature’s skull. The spider let out a shriek and began to writhe. It lurched back as though to attack, but Freya twisted her knife in a swift movement and jumped back. The spider fell on the floor, its body twitched as dark red blood and the green pulp of its brain seeped from it. The red bulbous eyes dimmed as life disappeared from them. Freya stepped over its dead carcass and cut Yann free, thrusting him on her shoulder and heading into the trees.

Gaia’s head rested against the tree, her mind a mixture of haze and pain. Despite the confusion, there was the warmth of relief. Aran was alive, they had been saved. The seeds of comfort began to trickle through her body and ease the pain. She whispered, her voice frail. 

‘Are you OK, Aran?’

‘Gaia? Is that you Gaia?’

‘Yes, it’s me. We’re safe now. Take it easy and try to relax. The potion will kick in soon, and you’ll feel better.’

‘What happened? I just remember…’

Aran began to tremble, his body twisted and head shook, face taut and pained. The shivering faded and stopped, a cold feverish sweat dripped from Aran’s brow. Gaia ached, the whole of her body was throbbing. Freya returned with Yann and laid him beside Aran, tending to Yann with the antidote. Freya took some biscuits from her bag, broke small pieces off and fed them to Gaia and Aran, washing them down with sugar water.

‘We need to get some energy back into you. You’ve had a lot of poison in your system. The stuff I gave you should help. How are you feeling?’

Aran was dazed, and though Gaia was recovering she was still groggy and weak. Gaia spoke, still struggling to force out words.

‘I’ve felt better, but I don’t look as bad as Aran. How did you escape?’

‘I didn’t. The spiders never got me. I managed to slip away when they attacked, and I’ve been watching and waiting for the right moment. Those things are everywhere. The woods are crawling with them.’

‘Are we safe here?’

‘We should be. They don’t stray out of the thicker patches of trees, it leaves them too exposed. We’re all still here. Let’s be thankful for that, though we’ve lost a day.’

Gaia remembered they were being hunted. They were lucky, but the spiders were a distraction. A day was a lot of time to lose. The hunters would not be far.

‘Shouldn’t they have caught up with us by now?’

‘If they’d come north they’d have been onto us. I’m pretty sure of it. I didn’t see anyone pass this way when you were out. Maybe Aran was right and his plan worked. They could be moving along the southern river, or headed straight for the hills. Either way they’re probably ahead of us somewhere, and we need to be watching our fronts and backs.’

Yann began to shiver as the potion took hold. Freya moved to him, holding his hand as he shook. Once the shivering passed Yann tucked into the biscuits and sugar water with the gusto of someone who had not eaten for months, begging for more once they had gone. Gaia and Freya watched as Yann ate. Freya spoke.

‘How you feeling Yann?’

‘Hungry, thirsty, numb, bit of a sore head. Other than that I couldn’t be better. Just glad to be alive.’

Yann laughed, a deep throaty laugh which turned into a coughing fit. He drank some water, as Freya spoke.

‘Take it easy. You need to rest. We all do.’

‘Don’t worry I will. As if I need an invitation to take it easy.’

Freya wrapped the others in an extra layer of blankets and huddled them together. Freya insisted on keeping watch while her three companions got some sleep. In the morning they would need to set off again. It had been a close call, and only thanks to Freya’s courage were they all still alive. Limp, weak and wounded, but alive. Their wounds were minor and the strength would return. Sleep was troubled and filled with nightmares. The visions of terror would continue to plague them for days. Gaia dreamt of Kali. They were both in a  damp, musty room with no windows. Gaia sat in a chair, and Kali circled her. Kali was talking, but Gaia could not make out what was being said. Gaia was drowning and Kali’s hand was reaching out to save her. That was all she dreamt, over and over throughout the night.