CHAPTER 6. AN EVIL DART
Toby smelled the smoke before the tendril came into view. White as Gramble Shana’s hair, it curled up and over the hill. The land spread out before them like a map. Toby followed the smoke with his eyes until it disappeared into an unusual structure.
From the hill the wall looked small enough to squeeze between his fingers, but Toby could tell it was massive. Blurred colors and lumps suggested haphazard construction. He could not see past the wall to know if it housed a town or simply a single traveler with a campfire. Only one thing was certain: a fire would have a creator.
Toby turned to Mia. “Do you know if anyone lives down there?”
“I have never been over these hills.” Mia plucked yellow flowers as she talked and wove the stems to make a pretty little crown. “The swamp people do not speak of the outside world, except when sending out their mission teams. Should we go down and see who lives there?” She arranged the crown on her head.
Toby found himself again trying not to stare. Mia was so clever with her hands. She made beautiful art from almost nothing.
“Well?” She interrupted his thoughts.
“We have to be careful.” Toby gazed at the smoke. “We do need provisions and these people might be friendly. However…”
“We don’t want to be sacrificed to their goddess.”
“Exactly.”
A twisted trail led them around boulders and small tufts of brush. These obstacles were soon replaced by much stranger items: a broken soft drink machine, a rusted bicycle, a giant school bus. Some of these things were only familiar to Toby because he had seen them in books or films. The piles of junk grew higher, and Toby’s nose wrinkled as a stench rose around them. The smell was dank and moldy, of things forgotten for a very, very long time. Who would chose to live in this wreckage?
The wall loomed closer. Toby crouched behind a pile of debris and beckoned for Mia to follow. He peered over a decrepit couch to check for any movements in the surrounding junk piles. He risked a deep breath to try to catch any strange scents and almost passed out. Any human or beast would be masked by the overwhelming stink.
Above him, a large scrap of metal hung precariously from a chain.“What is that thing?” He pointed up.
Mia climbed over an armchair towards his couch, but then stopped and gave a little shriek. She fell back and slid to the ground.
Toby blinked, and his mind struggled to process what had happened. He jumped over the furniture and sank down beside her. “Mia, are you all right?”
Then he saw the arrow.
Tears streamed down Mia’s face. She tugged at the wooden stick, burrowed deep in her shoulder. “Oh, it hurts so much, Toby! Is this what dying feels like?”
“I don’t know,” Toby touched her shoulder, then grabbed his pack, trying to decide what he should do first. “I have never died before.”
He pulled the girl’s hand away from the stick. After lectures from Gramble Howard, and watching many old western movies with Gramble Colleen, he knew the part of the arrow stuck in the shoulder acted as a cork to keep her from bleeding to death.
“You have to stay still.” He laid a hand on the trembling girl’s shoulder. “I have to try to find someone to help.”
Mia didn’t respond. Her face, normally a rich tan from a life spent outdoors, was almost translucent, as though her life was flowing away. Her deep blue eyes glazed over, and her shrieks quieted to an occasional moan.
She is going into shock. I must get some help.
A tin can rattled a few feet away, reminding Toby they were still in danger.
Two brown leather boots stepped into view, and standing in them… was a man.
He stood tall and burly, with legs like two thick logs. His eyes, hard and dark, glittered beneath a wooly thatch of black hair. Half a dozen other men, alike enough to be brothers, accompanied him. They were dressed in clothes patched together from cloth of all colors and patterns. All carried weapons. The first man held the only bow; and had a quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder.
A sick mixture of fear and rage, stronger than Toby had ever experienced, rose up and stung the back of his throat.
Toby leapt to his feet and approached the man with the bow.
“You!” Toby stretched to his tallest height, level with the man’s waist. “You’re the evil one who hurt my friend!”
The man looked down at him. “Ocean mystery under investigation,” he said, solemnly.
“What?” Toby was unprepared for this absurdity. “You aren’t making any sense!”
Another man stepped forward. “Crowds were larger than expected.” He pointed to Mia. “Police were called. Shots were fired at the protestors.”
“I should say shots were fired!” Toby cried. “Why would you hurt us? We’re children!”
The first man replied, “A report shows that incidences of school bullying have increased dramatically in the past decade.”
“Bullies? You don’t even know who we are!” Toby knelt down beside Mia again. Her breath came in shallow gasps. He touched her hand; the skin was cold and slick with sweat. Her daisy crown had slid off her head and was now a pile of crushed petals.
The men stood around the two children, watching. No one moved forward to offer help.
Toby wanted to stamp his foot like a toddler. He understood the words spoken by the men but when strung together they made no sense.
In a moment, a woman appeared. Her short, meandering person distinctly contrasted with the group of men, who all stood at least a head taller, but they parted to let her through and some dipped their heads in respect. The woman’s face was flabby and white, as though formed from dough that was left to rise too long and had obtained some sort of a crust. Wrinkles surrounded the elements of her face responsible for creating smiles. Two luminous brown eyes, like those of a young child, twinkled under masses of white curls.
The woman saw Mia lying on the ground and her eyes flamed with disapproval. She marched up to the man who carried the bow and reached far above her own head to grab his shoulders. She pulled him down until his face was level with her own. “Japeth, you have committed an injury.”
“The president denies any knowledge of foul play.” The man bowed deeply. The other men grunted in agreement.
The old woman knelt beside Toby. “May I examine her?”
Toby nodded and stumbled back. Would Mia die? What would happen to her soul if she died? The two days spent with her gleamed like a precious jewel in his life.
With careful hands, the woman probed the skin around the arrow. “Not deep,” she murmured. “We must get her into town to remove it right away.” She gestured to two of the men. “Elroy, Jeepers! Go fetch the wagon.”
The two men ambled off towards the fortress.
“Medical supplies dwindle as health crisis deepens,” the man named Japeth objected.
“You should have considered the consequences before you hurt this poor child.” The woman reached into the pocket of her multi-colored apron and withdrew a small container. The faded label read ‘mouthwash’, but the liquid inside was thick and mud-colored. Not at all like the cool blue liquid Toby used to rinse his mouth back in the caverns.
“What’s that?” he asked, as the woman forced the bottle between Mia’s clenched teeth.
“A medicine I created from a plant that grows near here. It will dull the pain and make her more comfortable on the journey home.”
Home? Home was in the caverns with his grambles, where they should be right this moment, safe and warm and telling their adventures in the halo of artificial light.
Toby’s heart sank further when the men returned with a sturdy cart constructed from pallets and bicycle wheels. They lifted the girl with surprising tenderness and placed her in the wagon. Mia gasped in pain only once; the medicine was already doing its work.
The procession moved through the piles of garbage. The old woman led the way and pointed out pieces of debris for the men to move to make the trip smooth
er.
Toby followed a few feet behind the group, ears flat against his head and his tail dragging on the trashy ground.