Chapter 27
I've barely moved from my cot for three days. The only movement I am allowed to have is a short walk around the cave a few times a day, though it's more of a hop on one leg than an actual walk. I have to stay off my right leg for a while if I want it to heal properly. The arrow had gone deeper than I even thought, tearing some muscle tissue that now has to grow back. If I put pressure on it, it will take much much longer.
It's probably the three worst days of my life. I'm safe, I'm fed, I'm getting healthier - and yet the not knowing of what's happening to my friends has me going crazy. To say I'm restless would be an understatement; the fact that I have to sit around and do nothing while who knows what is happening to them - to Bellamy - it's nerve-wrecking. I try not to think of the worst. If they're taken, that means they are not necessarily wanted dead. They would have been shot on the spot if that was the case.
But that's what's confusing. The more I think about the Mountain Men, the less I understand. It's as though they're a riddle just about impossible to solve, and what little information Rand has provided doesn't exactly put the pieces together for me. Nothing about it makes sense. If they don't want them dead, what do they want from my friends?
Rand leaves the cave for a few hours every day. I don't know what I hate more - staying back in the cave bored by myself and going nuts or the fact that he's allowed a stroll through the woods for fresh air and I'm not.
Of course, it's not just going for a stroll for him. He scouts the area every day. I don't know how far he goes. He makes sure to watch out for signs of Mountain Men, or outlaws, or any other possible danger to us. To my insisting, he makes sure to watch out for signs of survivors, or escapees, or any sign of my people, anything that would be of value to me. He gathers supplies and hunts. He's being useful.
Unlike me.
''I can't do this anymore, Rand,'' I tell him when he comes back, three squirrels on a rope hanging across his shoulder.
''Yu laik nou yuj pleni yet (You are not strong enough yet),'' he only says.
''And every minute I spend sitting here might be precious time lost for my friends,'' I practically beg, ''I need to do something.''
''Not in English.''
''Ai... souda... go kom em,'' I struggle putting even the simplest sentence together. Luckily, I've always had a knack for languages, and Trigedasleng still keeps the basis of English, so it's easy to see the logical way in which it works. But remembering words, however, isn't exactly the easiest. Actually, it's far from easy.
''That's too simple,'' he smirks.
''I can't believe I'm stuck here. Learning a language and losing time-''
''You're stuck here learning a language that could save your life. That's not wasted time,'' he argues, doing something in the small pantry, ''You're the one that's so bent on leaving here as soon as possible. If you're going to be roaming the land by yourself, you might not want to stick out as one of your Sky People.''
''Well, I'm not exactly dressed as a Grounder-''
''No English.''
''Ai laik nou... akin... kom yu,'' I almost groan, ''Kom tri kru.''
Rand laughs, he gets a real good warm-hearted chuckle out of my broken Trigedasleng. ''That was really poor.''
''Hey! It's been three days.''
''Fair enough,'' he nods with a smile, now chopping something up - one of the squirrels probably, ''I've been to your ship.''
''And?!''
''Nothing,'' he says, his tone going solemn, ''Death and dust. Bones and ashes.''
''Any tracks?!''
''Plenty. Of Mountain Men, and of my people as well. Scavengers. They picked up whatever was left.''
My heart sinks. I wasn't exactly expecting anything more than that, but it's still defeating.
''I found an inscription though. Might be one of your people, maybe,'' he ads, sounding like he doesn't believe it but suggests it just to indulge me.
''That,'' I smile, ''I left that for Monty before we were about to leave, in case he came back and found the camp emp-''
''Not that one.''
''What?!''
''Chalk. It's wiped out mostly. Rains.''
''What did it say?!''
''It's not legible,'' he says, and adds an ''I'm sorry'' when he sees my disappointed expression.
''Well, could it be by someone of your people?''
He shakes his head. ''Most of Tri Kru do not write those letters.''
''That means someone made it!!'' I almost scream, all but jumping, ''Don't you see? Someone escaped the Mountain Men! Bellamy- It had to be Bellamy, or Finn, or both of them, they- They were outside last, they knew the fires were coming, they- They had to have escaped even before the Mountain Men came-!''
''Calm down,'' he says, ''You'll hurt yourself.''
''I feel fine,'' I dismiss, reaching for my boots, ''I need to go.''
''You will get yourself killed,'' he says, the way he does through his teeth when I'm being stubborn - and I've been stubborn a lot in the course of the past days, ''That ship of yours is now a lair for outlaws. Every bit of scum of this Earth will come looking for something there.''
''I can protect myself,'' I reach for my jacket, still trying not to put too much pressure on my leg.
''With full strength and better weapons, maybe,'' he says, then pauses and turns back toward the pantry, looking for something, ''It's not ready yet, since you weren't supposed to leave so soon but-''
''What are you talking about?'' I ask, but he's already looking for something in what seems like a big wooden chest.
''It could use more work, but it's better than that insult to archery of yours,'' he says, pulling out a brand new bow.
''Oh, my God,'' I stare, stunned, ''I'd complain about that insult but, now I can't.''
He smiles, handing it to me. ''I re-filled your quiver too.''
''You already saved my life,'' I say, ''Why are you helping me so much?''
''Saving your life would have been a waste of my time if I were to send you out to die now,'' he says, ''May it serve you well.''
I take the bow. It's far better than that mess Monty and I tried to make decent. The difference in knowledge is obvious - Rand's discerning eye and expertise picked out the finest branch with the most elegant recurve, and I can only assume the string is rawhide, off some animal. It's strong yet fine to the touch, almost sharp. He even embellished the ends of it with simple ornamental criss-cross lines. I am speechless as my fingers feel up every inch of it.
''I don't know how to thank you.''
''Thank me by coming back with me here to stay the night,'' he says, ''You can't be caught out there alone in the dark, not yet anyway. Besides, you have shelter here. No one's found this place yet.''
''And you?''
''I told you I'm heading east once you've healed,'' he says, adding a small smile, ''You'd poison yourself without me.''
''I'm not that ignorant,'' I argue, almost rolling my eyes, ''I've learned which vials to stay away from.''
''I don't trust you,'' he gives a hint of a smirk, ''Your body is still vulnerable to disease, even a cold could crush you. I don't want you reaching for deathbell juice by yourself.''
''Fine, I get it, Rand,'' I try not to laugh, ''Just so you know, I'm excellent at recognizing plants. Juices, not so much.''
''Gear up,'' he says, ''We need to leave as soon as possible if we want to be back by nightfall.''
''We?''
''Three legs are better than one.''
*
My leg has pretty much healed - I only feel a small sensation shooting up my leg as I step on my right foot, but it isn't exactly pain. Just a feeling, a sort of aftermath. To let me know my muscle is still healing, but wouldn't take much longer to be brand new. Sometimes, if I step in an odd way, I'd feel pain, but on level ground, I have no problems. I could even run. Though I hope nothing will make me, before the day is through.
Rand has found some darker clothes for me, something to make me look like more of a Grounder than a Sky person, which is a good call, with the way things are. It's as though there's a bounty on our damn heads - everyone is eager to kill us. A Sky person is the worst thing to be. I make a few braids in my hair too, more out of the fact that it's dirty as hell than the fact that it's common Grounder fashion. It helps keep my hair back and stay back, and it makes me feel cleaner. Thinking about showers back on the Ark makes me want to cry.
Going back to the Drop-Ship is... crushing. This place has been our home, and now it's a cemetery. The place where Miller and I sat near a fire is a pile of ashes, our outpost black with char. There are bones - a pile of burnt bones - right where Bellamy kissed me first. I could vomit - not at the sight, but the sickness of it all. The ground where I had slept is covered with corpses.
The Drop-Ship is empty, whatever could be scavenged out of it - was. I find blood, but it isn't much, and it could be anyone's. Probably Raven's, I realize, and the sudden thought of her sends a chill to my bones. She was already in bad shape, shot by Murphy; how could she have made it in all the mess that ensued?
Rand must have sensed how upset I am by coming back here. ''I told you you would find nothing here,'' he says.
''And I told you I had to come nonetheless.''
He shows me the writing he found, but the rains have washed out all of it. All I can see is a couple of letters and a number that means nothing to me. Someone left a message here for whoever survived, probably directions to some place, but it's useless. I can't discern it. I want to cry out of desperation. Someone of my people is alive and out there, and I have no idea who, or where they are. I have nothing to go on either.
''Whoever wrote that is one of my people,'' I say, ''And they're out there. I need to find them.''
''Can you recognize-?''
''No. And what little I can see, it-,'' I sigh, ''It's not Bellamy's handwriting.''
Not that I've seen his writing too many times, but whoever this is writes their letters very italicized. That much is obvious.
''You've mentioned him more than anyone,'' Rand notes, ''You care about him.''
''I'm in love with him,'' I admit, surprising myself, my chest aching. I've never said it out loud, not to myself, not to Bellamy. And I had no reason to share that. Rand doesn't say anything to it, however.
''We're losing light. Come on.''
*
I don't sleep too well that night. I can't seem to find a way to stop all these awful scenarios from playing out in my mind. I know what I have to do though. I have to search for that someone who's made it, no matter what. I need to find whoever it is that wasn't taken by the Mountain Men. Whoever it is that left that message.
Picking up a trail is next to impossible, so I have to start somewhere else. Where would I go first if I was the only one left and stuck out there in the open?
Ark remains.
Whatever's left of the Ark is scattered, and finding bits and pieces and crash sites wouldn't be too hard, though it would be a longer mission - I'd surely have to cover a lot of ground. It would take me days, but I'm determined. The crash sites surely hold supplies, much needed supplies for someone stranded out in the open. That's what I would have done, smart or stupid.
And I have to start somewhere.
*
It's a day long hike to the first crash site we've found, and it's only because Rand had already stumbled upon it and knew where to go. Night has fallen by the time we reach it, and there wouldn't have been much to see even in daylight - the Ark station had landed down a cliffside and nothing survived the explosion. Even if there are any useful supplies, there's no coming down to get them.
That's defeating. I make it obvious when I kick a tree trunk and almost break a toe in my anger and desperation. I want to scream, to cry out.
''I will make a fire,'' Rand only says, giving me a moment of privacy.
But even alone, I can't cry anymore.
The other crash site takes even longer to reach. It's two days travel, completely on the other side. It isn't in much better shape. The explosion actually seems to have been even bigger here. I can't recognize which station this is, but the blackened crater it's made is huge. If anyone's survived that, they're long gone somewhere else.
''You don't have to keep accompanying me,'' I tell Rand again, as we look upon the depressing sight, ''You have helped me plenty, and I feel fine now. This isn't your journey to take.''
''It should not be yours either,'' he says.
I turn sharp, almost angry. ''They're my people,'' I say, wanting to cry again, but unable to form anything akin to tears.
''And they're gone,'' he says, ''Can't you see? There is nothing for you here.''
''And what else can I do?!''
''You can come with me. Go east. The clan there will take us in.''
''Rand-''
''You cannot survive alone.''