Startled, he looked down. He saw Hermann standing and staring at the base of the tree.
“Hermann!” he hissed. “What is it?”
Silence. Annoyed, Marlon climbed down, huffing and catching on tree limbs. He dropped to the ground, then gasped in alarm – Hermann was watching a strange man sleeping at the base of the tree. Marlon turned about, fumbled for his club, realized he had left it in the tree, then quickly dug through all of his pockets and pulled out the combat knife.
“Who are you?” he shouted. The old man did not stir, so Marlon turned to Hermann. “Who is he?” Hermann continued to stare, a look of dull hatred on his face. Marlon turned back to the old man, kicked his leg, shouted, “Where’s Wodi and Saul? And why is Hermann acting like a retard? Answer me!”
“We’re down here.”
Marlon turned and saw Wodi strolling up the hill. Saul sat down below, near the base, where the stream turned about a pile of wide, jumbled stones. Saul looked distant and exhausted. Even Wodi, who usually seemed alert, looked deeply disturbed by something.
“Where the hell did you and Saul get off to?” said Marlon. “You know we need to stick together! I thought this old guy killed you!”
“Last night, we…” Wodi paused and looked at the sleeping old man. “Me and Saul, we went into this… old cave.” Marlon looked at the rocks. One large stone jutted up near the stream and Marlon decided that it probably could conceal the entrance to a cave.
“Without telling us?” said Marlon.
Wodi paused, unsure of himself.
“Wodi!” said Saul. “Just shut up!”
Wodi lowered his face. He seemed to have aged.
“Alright, whatever,” said Marlon. “Whatever you guys did in that cave, I don’t really care. Right now, we gotta interrogate this old guy.”
“He’s probably the seventh,” said Wodi. “Remember? Saul said there were seven of us thrown into this mess.”
Marlon bore his eyes into the stranger. The old man was small and thin, with skin like beefy jerky. He had a sparse beard that was stained yellow. He wore tattered laborer’s coveralls that were worn threadbare at the knees. He came awake and blinked in the light. Marlon stepped back, ready to plunge the knife into him should he reveal himself to be the true mastermind behind their exile.
“Ughhh,” said the old man. “Hoof!”
“Talk!” said Marlon. “Now!”
The old man looked about, deeply disappointed, and said, “So this bullshit is real after all.”
Wodi knelt beside him and said, “What’s your name?”
“Salem Jules,” said the old man.
“Are you a Havender?”
The old man nodded.
“And you found yourself out here yesterday morning?”
Again he nodded.
“Were you given anything?” said Wodi. “A tool? A weapon? A clue?”
“Nothing,” said the old man. “I woke up and didn’t even have a bit of leaf on me to burn.”
“Looks like we’re all in the same fix,” said Wodi. “You can try chewing on one of the leaves on this tree, if you like. It’s some sort of psychedelic.”
Jules immediately screwed up his face with distrust and crawled away from the tree. Wodi laughed. As if hurt by the sound of laughter, Hermann winced and said, “Another man about to die!”
Marlon grabbed Hermann by the shirt, then said, “You need to get your head on straight and stop acting like a weirdo, or you’re gonna make me regret going back for your ass!”
“I… sorry, Marlon!” said the doctor. “I don’t, uh, quite know why that came out of me.”
Peter huffed and made his way down the tree with his eyes glued to the backpack full of nutrimilk. Iduna stared into the distance, forlorn and unhappy and on the verge of complaining about something. Hermann wandered about with a confused look on his face. Marlon watched Saul and Wodi wander away and heard Saul mutter, “Don’t tell anyone about… that place.” He saw the old man, Jules, watching his own hand shaking, in need of some kind of intoxicant.
“Gods be-e-e-low,” said Marlon. “I’m the only normal one in this whole bunch.” He stood in wonder at the idea of dragging such a collection of knuckleheads all the way back to Haven. Then he thrust his fears into the back of his mind and set about the work of making sure everyone had a spear.
* * *
Just before noon the seven came to a wide river. They sat in a huddled group, their spears jutting out from them like a porcupine squatting. Marlon, Wodi, and Peter moved to stand on the bank. Sunlight shone down on them where the river broke the forest canopy in half. Marlon tested the river’s depth with his spear. As far as he could tell, it was bottomless.
“That map,” said Peter. “If this is the river on that map, and I’m willing to bet that it is, then that means we’re about halfway through the forest. But there’s no way we can cross here. It’s too fast and too deep.”
“Not to mention what might be in there,” said Marlon. He looked back. Hermann sat against a tree trunk, pale, sweating.
“Can we make a raft?” said Wodi.
Marlon cast his eyes about the forest. The trees that could be made into rafts or bridges were far too big to cut down with their tools, and none were strong enough to throw a weighted vine to the other side that could be used to pull them across. “We’ll have to move along the river,” said Marlon, “and see if there’s a better place further down.”
Wodi nodded.
“Hey, listen,” said Peter, suddenly speaking loud enough for the others to hear. “I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but we’ve gone through two-thirds of the nutrimilk already. If we keep going at this rate-”
“We’ll worry about that later,” said Marlon. He drained a nutrimilk packet and threw it into the river. It sped away from them, and Peter and Iduna exchanged a look with one another.
They walked downstream for over an hour. Marlon was hampered, for while he carried a new spear and knife, he also refused to get rid of his club. Because it had proven effective against Saul, he felt it would be a shame to abandon it when it might prove useful later. It hung on his belt and knocked against his boots.
Eventually, they smelled decay.
They quietly skirted around the stench. However, their route took them far from the river, and the darkness of the forest in that area prevented them from seeing the sun.
“Stop for a minute,” said Marlon. “We can’t tell east from west. We’re going to lose our way.”
“Can I scout it out?” said Wodi.
Marlon nodded quickly.
“You be careful!” Peter said gruffly, and it was not obvious whose safety he was more concerned about.
“Hell,” said Marlon. “I bet this kid could sneak up on a cat and take the milk from its titties. We’ll be okay. Just yell if you need someone’s head bashed in, alright Wodi?”
Wodi flashed a toothy grin and darted into the darkness.
* * *
Long minutes passed before Wodi emerged from the black to join the six. “The hell took you so long?” said Marlon.
“An army of ghouls,” said Wodi.
Everyone choked on their surprise, then gathered close.
“There’s a large clearing ahead,” said Wodi. “It’s full of them. I couldn’t get an exact number, because they all look the same, but I think there’s over thirty ghouls there.”
“A community?” said Saul.
“Ehh...” the boy shook his head. “They’re all armed. Spears, knives. I think they were males. It was like a hunting party or something like that. There was a big one with them, as big as you, Marlon, but twice as ugly, and I think he was their leader.”
“So, we go around them,” said Peter, and Marlon nodded.
“Wait. There’s also... there’s a ferry there. It was sitting on this side of the river.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Peter. “We’ll keep going and find a better place to cross downriver. Right?” He looked at Marlon, said, ?
??Right?”
“Let me think,” said Marlon.
“What’s there to think about?”
“Tell me about the layout,” Marlon said to Wodi.
“The clearing went right up to the river, but there was dense wood all around the clearing. The trees went... I think they went pretty much all the way to the river, plus there was a high bank over the water.” Marlon said nothing, but stared at the ground. The boy said, “I think we could... I mean, it’s possible we could sneak to the ferry. If we go around the clearing.”
“What were the ghouls doing?” said Marlon.
“Goofing off. Eating, chasing each other, like that.”
“Draw it for me in the dirt. The area.”
“Marlon,” said Peter. “What’s there to think about?”
“You said it yourself, we don’t have much food left. We need to cross the river sooner rather than later.”
Marlon bent over Wodi as he traced lines in the dirt. Peter opened his mouth to say something but, seeing the others discretely move away, he moved to join them.
Wodi finished his map, and Marlon stared at it and nodded occasionally.
“Okay,” he said. “We take the ferry.”
Now the others rejoined the pair, slowly, with Peter in the lead. “Ah, not so fast, son,” he said. “We took a vote a second ago and decided unanimously to skirt around the area and find a better place to cross the river.”
“That’s great,” said Marlon, without missing a beat. “Been nice traveling with you. Best of luck to you all.”
“Wait, what?” said Peter.
“I said I’ll see you dumbasses on the flip side o’ tomorrow. As for me, I’m takin’ that ferry. If you guys wanna wander around here for another day, don’t let me slow you down. As for me, I’ve got a plan and I’m goin’ home.”
“But we have to stick together!” said Peter.
“Says who? You? I don’t have to stick by anybody.” Marlon stared at Peter for a minute. The man worked his jaw up and down, then looked at those behind him.
“You all with me?” said Marlon.
Peter walked a short distance away. The others said nothing.
“Anyway,” said Marlon, “here’s the plan, if you’re interested.” He pointed to the map in the dirt.
The group hesitated, then gathered.
“Looks like the woods go all around this clearing on both sides,” said Marlon, “and the ferry is at the far end of the clearing, about in the middle.” He looked at Wodi, who nodded.
“Wonder who built the ferry?” said Saul. “Could the ghouls...?”
“Prob’ly some podunk wage slave,” said Jules. “Somebody busted their ass to build that thing, then these ghouls or some demon just chucked his ass in the river.”
“Anyway,” said Marlon, “I want us to break into groups. Each group will sneak through the woods on either side of the clearing. That way... if, in a worst case scenario, one group gets spotted, maybe the other group can still make the ferry and get across before they get spotted, too. Ghouls aren’t that tough, but thirty of ’em, armed... well, we have to be quiet.”
“How does the ferry work?” Iduna asked.
Wodi looked at her, said, “I... couldn’t see it that well. It was small, just a bunch of logs tied together, barely big enough for all of us. The bank went over most of it. I could see it was attached to a rope that went across the river, and the rope was attached to posts on either side. But...”
“Don’t worry about the particulars,” said Marlon. “Wodi, you’re going to be your own team of one. I want you to sneak ahead of my group and get close to that ferry. If there’s a problem, you come back to me, and we’ll get out of there and find another way.”
Iduna sighed heavily and shook. Jules shook his head and spat.
“Who’s on teams?” said Peter.
“You, Iduna, and Hermann,” said Marlon. “Saul and Jules with me. Any objections?”
Peter snorted.
“Okay,” said Marlon. “Let’s go about it.”
* * *
Peter, Hermann, and Iduna crept through the woods, on their bellies in slime and sharp brambles. Peter’s breathing was harsh and ragged, and he often looked behind at the others, angrily, as though they were holding him back. Even over the roar of the river Iduna could hear the shrieking of the ghouls nearby. She tried to ignore them, tried to concentrate on moving as silently as possible.
The stench of death hit her and she gagged. Marlon had warned her about the stench, but knowing that something could be alive and smell of such rot fascinated some part of her. She had to see them. She stopped and raised her head slowly.
The sight of them was like ice cast into her eyes. She saw a host of small, pale, sickly bodies running about, slapping at each other with short spears and waving flint knives. Their heads were bald and their eyes were black and coated with dried mucus. They were horribly diseased, covered in sores and patches rubbed raw. Many of them were naked, their ulcerous members displayed for all to see. They hissed at one another with mouths full of jagged, rotten, misplaced nubs. Some of them were bent over a bovine corpse, mostly skeleton and fly-covered gray meat. Her gag reflex surged and tightened once again.
She was about to turn away, then heard a violent yelp in the clearing and craned her head. She saw a large ghoul, fat and clothed in wolfskin and other strange leathers. The twisted face of the thing was covered in sores and exposed veins, and it held high a black, barbed spear. A smaller ghoul cowered beneath the leader and gripped its head. The leader whacked its head with the butt-end of the spear and gurgled happily while a few others laughed at the spectacle.
“They even hate their own kind,” she whispered.
“Human… bitch!”
Someone pulled her ear painfully. Iduna turned and saw Hermann beside her, his face twisted with hatred. She slapped him and he fell back. He looked shocked, numb with confusion.
“I’m sorry!” he whispered, shaking his head slowly. “Iduna, I… I don’t know… why…”
He covered his face and sobbed. Iduna looked once more to make sure they had not been seen, then knelt and patted the man. “Listen, we’re all under a lot of stress. Okay? We can talk about this later, but right now let’s try to keep quiet and get around these monsters.”
Hermann wiped his eyes and cast about for his spear. Iduna studied him, wondering how it was that the loss of his reliable social constructs could so easily undermine his masks and churn up shadows from his psyche that could not be kept in check without great duress. Would he find his balance? Or would Peter and Marlon be forced to do something drastic in order for the group to survive?
* * *
Marlon was grateful for the sounds of the river and the ghouls because his own team sounded as if they were clearing brush to make a bonfire. He often had to stop and wait for the others to catch up, annoyed at the look of panic on Saul’s face and Jules continually freeing his spear from the undergrowth. He looked ahead but could not see Wodi.
If it wasn’t for Wodi, he thought, I would have had to scout the area myself. He imagined the others getting into an argument, wandering away from each other, and simply disappearing into the forest without him there to beat them back into line.
While he waited for Saul and Jules to catch up, he watched the ghouls. Individually they were frail and not a serious threat. The biggest danger would be getting an infection from a bite. But there were at least thirty of them and, worst of all, their leader was somehow just as big as Marlon himself. He’d never heard about any ghouls built like that in his Guardian training courses, but he was positive that it would be impossible for his own small team to bully the ghouls if it came down to a confrontation.
Marlon turned back to the others and, as if in a nightmare, he saw something white and spidery fall from a tree and land in a bush behind Saul.
“Hell!” said Saul, startled by the noise.
The thing bounded from the undergrowth and Marlon saw that it wa
s a ghoul, much like the others except that it bounded on all fours and had a long, sloping forehead. It darted around Saul and ran for the clearing.
“The hell was that?” Jules croaked.
“Scout!” said Marlon. “It was a scout!”
The three sat as still as statues and watched as the scout ran through the pack of ghouls, then squatted before the leader, grunted, and pointed in their direction.
“Oh, shit,” said Marlon. “Oh, shit no! Shit no!”
The fat leader bellowed in alarm, then shouted guttural commands. The ghouls in the clearing ran about, tripped over one another, and picked up their spears and knives. The leader slapped at butts and legs with his spear to beat order into the frenzied pack.
“We gotta go!” Marlon shouted. “We gotta go now!”
While the majority of the pack seemed disorganized and mostly worried that their leader was about to hit them, five ghouls broke off and gained the leader’s attention with high-pitched barking. The leader nodded and pointed to the woods in Marlon’s direction. The five eagerly took off, grunting with spears held before them.
“Too late!” Marlon shouted. He shook Saul’s arm to wake him from his terror, then said, “We have to kill these guys or we’ll never make it! Stick together!”
“Right!” said Saul, his voice cracking. Jules looked at his spear shaking uncontrollably, then backed away.
The five ghouls crashed through the woods in a wild frenzy. Marlon braced himself, hypnotized by the thrashing white limbs and empty black eyes. He gripped his spear in one hand and his club in the other. The five drew near, Saul screamed in abject terror, then Marlon beat his spear against a slim tree trunk and shouted at the ghouls. All five bunched up and fell against one another as Marlon herded them near Saul. Saul fell on his ass but, at the last moment, raised his spear and jabbed it toward the tripping ghouls, further confusing them. Marlon raised his club and swung it into them – once, twice – then the ghouls extricated their limbs from one another and retreated as two fell to the ground, twitching and gagging. Saul screamed once more as Marlon clubbed the two ghouls until they laid still.
Marlon grabbed Saul’s shirt and hauled him to his feet. “We don’t have much time before they get organized and come back for more!” he bellowed. “Find that old man and drag his ass to the ferry! You hear me?”