Eden Emerged, Seth Benjamin [jenna bush book club .txt] 📗

and hacking just in time to find the native charging the cat, spear held at the ready. The cat lunged and the native brought the spear up, driving the end into the cat’s belly. It shrieked and collapsed in the dirt.

The native ran toward her, and Brie attempted a smile but she couldn’t catch her breath and the world was getting dimmer. She staggered a few steps and fell face first in the dirt and darkness took her. 

Chapter 5: Caleb

“This is absurd,” Milo complained, not for the first time. He had been loud and whining since they had been captured. Their captors had bound their wrists in front of them and latched the two of them together around the waist before marching them through the forest. They had marched a short distance before they came across more captives, sitting on the ground in a line. He and Milo were joined with the rest of the train there.  Caleb had been taken aback by the natives but seeing more inhabitants paled in comparison to their winged captors. Caleb had taken their capture in silence, trying to make sense of their situation. Milo had taken a different approach.

          “Is this actually happening?” He cried loudly. Caleb found it hard to ignore Milo, even though Milo was at the tail end of the line right behind him.

          “Caleb, am I the only person seeing this?” Milo called again a little louder than Caleb would have liked. “We have crash landed on an island where we have been captured and hitched together with a host of villagers under the watchful eye of men with bat wings.”

          “Don’t forget your leg.” Caleb noted

          “Oh yes, and my leg is broken.” Milo sighed. His broken gait had become noticeable, and was slowing down the entire line. From time to time, their captors would cast him a dirty look and mutter to one another.

          “You have to keep up. I don’t think they like dead weight.”

          Milo’s voice was flushed with panic. “What will they do if I can’t keep up?”

          Caleb kept his voice low, “I honestly don’t know, but we’ll both find out of you don’t keep up.” He cast a nervous look up into the trees. Their captors neglected to walk on the ground with them. Instead, they moved like shadows high above them, barely noticeable at all. Every now and then, one of them would drop to inspect the rope that tied them together before shooting back up the nearest tree. They movedquickly with everything they did, each movement a quick twitch or jerk.

          Caleb found himself wondering what stopped one of them from attempting to escape with their captors so high up, but a few hours into their trek, he got his answer. A woman, slender and olive-browned found some way to lose her rope and ran sprinting off through the woods. The horn shrilled immediately and their captors began to chatter to each other like monkeys. A host of them immediately dropped and surrounded the rest of them, daggers at the ready, baring their crooked teeth. After several moments of silence, the woman shrieked somewhere off in the distance and a short time later a trio of them drug her back into the camp strung up by her feet. In no time at all she had been roped up again, tighter this time.

          There were 6 of them total. He and Milo occupied the end of the line. Just in front of Caleb was a short, stocky man with slicked back ebon hair. The failed escape artist was in front of him. In front of her were two older natives with wispy grey hair and wrinkled skin. Caleb had seen pictures of brightly adorned Indians before in various magazines but these natives were plain, clad only in browned animal hide. From time to time, when one of them would turn their head to look at him and Milo, Caleb would catch a glimpse of a tattoo but little else.  During their march all of them had taken chances to look back and analyze him and Milo, but none of them said a word. Milo filled the silence for them.

          “Your brace keeps digging into my thigh.” he moaned.

          The heat made it hard for Caleb to keep his patience, “Maybe next time I’ll just leave it alone, that way it will grow back crooked.”

          “I have to stop,” he stated and immediately collapsed his back against a tree, sinking to the ground. They halted suddenly as the natives looked back in confusion.

          “Milo, get up. I don’t think we can stop.”

          But he had already started to pick at the side of his brace, trying to clip the side of the brace that was digging into his thigh.

          Above them, the horn sounded and the chattering began again, this time accompanied by the sound of claws raking against tree bark. They dropped like crows, 4 of them ringing the tree where Milo was stooped. One of them strode forward, with rose-hued wings, and began to squeak and chitter at Milo.

          “I don’t know what you want!” Milo yelled, still clawing at his brace. “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll get up.”

          Rose-wings turned to one with lilac wings and swirling tattoos on his forehead. They were arguing animatedly, but neither one of them rushed forward to grab Milo.

          Are they afraid?

          They turned suddenly as a big one ascended quickly with crimson wings. They scattered as he landed and ascended the trees as quickly as they had come. Crimson-wing strode forward and produced a coiled whip from the hide belt on his hip. Without a word he unloosed it and let the coil fall to the earth.

          Milo met his gaze, fidgeting with his brace absentmindedly. The crimson-winged one sneered and with a crack lashed out at the elderly native man at the front of the line. The whip connected and he screamed and fell to a knee. Caleb  made eye-contact with crimson-wing and understood.

          “Milo, get up. He’s not going to stop until you get up!”

          But instead of stopping, Milo continued albeit panicked and hurried. “Just give me a few more seconds, I’ve almost got it.”

          The whip cracked again and the elderly native screamed again. The elderly woman next to him shrieked and moved to cover him for the next blow.

          “Milo! Get up now!” Caleb screamed.

          The brace snapped and Milo scrambled up breathing a sigh of relief, “I got it! I’m up.” He took one look at the huddled couple on the floor with crimson-wing hovering over them and it seemed to just hit him what had happened.

          “Oh,” he whimpered. The crimson-winged one hissed slowly and cracked the whip once more, connecting with the elderly woman. She cried and Caleb dashed forward.

“Hey, he’s up. That’s enough.”

There was no fear from their attacker, but maybe a hint of surprise. Instead crimson-wing coiled the whip slowly and latched it back onto his belt. He brushed past the couple at a run, making for the nearest tree. He was up and away before they could blink and the march continued as the sun fell in the sky.

Caleb turned back and glared at Milo.

“No more stops. Understand?”

Milo nodded solemnly and they marched on.

Chapter 6: Brie

Brie woke up to the sound of snapping twigs and the warmth of a fire. She was flat on her back, staring up at an earthen ceiling. Instinctively she brought her hands up to her throat where the cat had almost closed its teeth and found a damp cloth there. She made to take it off but froze when a voice from across the room stopped her. 

 

"No" was all he said. 

 

She turned on her side and found the native sitting on the other side of the room with his back against the wall. THe light from the fire allowed her time to adjust her vision in the darkness. They were in a small room no bigger than a closet with earthen walls all around them. When she spotted the entryway, she suddenly realized that they were below ground with a path leading to a small entryway above them. The native had placed a black cloth across the opening, so that the fire's glow wouldn't be spotted. 

 

She made to sit up but the native stopped her again with a single "no". She glanced back at him and froze when she saw what was in his hand. He held the gun delicately, studying it. 

 

He's never seen one before, she realized. His finger coiled around the trigger slowly, finding the natural fit and it was Brie's turn to tell him no. 

 

She shouted the word sharply and he jumped, flinging the weapon from his hand across the floor of the cave. She jumped instinctively, expecting the gun to fire but it clattered harmlessly on the ground. She sat up quickly to retrieve it. The native made a move to protest but Brie ignored him. She crawled over and brought the gun back with her, placing it behind her as she sat on her side of the cave again. 

 

She expected him to speak to her or say something, but instead he just sat at his end of the alcove. Most of the time he watched her. Every few minutes or so he would look back toward the entrance of the alcove with a slight tilt of his head as if listening for motion, but he would always return to her and stare. It wasn't a particularly curious or intrusive gaze. Instead it was an empty stare, as if he were waiting for her to do something, anything. 

 

"Why do you speak English?" she finally asked, unable to stand the silence any longer. The native raised his eyebrows propped himself up against the cave wall. He made no motion to answer her, staring at the cave wall opposite him. Finally, when Brie was almost too impatient to stay quiet any longer, he spoke again. 

 

"English?" he said just the one word. He spoke it quietly, rolling the word around as if saying it for the first time. He glanced at the ceiling and pursed his lips together carefully, keeping a hard expression on his face. At last he looked back down at her and spoke. 

 

"What are you called?" he asked and Brie smiled involuntarily. It took her a few moments to collect herself and answer the question. 

 

"Brie," she said, finding it hard to contain her smile. "What is your name?"

 

The native did