Moonlit Retribution

Chapter Twenty-Five

Mel and I set off into the forest, hopefully towards our rendezvous point. My ankle feels surprisingly good for what it’s been through. I barely even feel the sting, but that could just be because of my sudden intense desire to find Ríjez and make sure he’s safe. He could very well be dead by now. I shouldn’t have waited so long to search. I should have left Mella’s camp and been on my way as soon as I had woken up, regardless of the foreign noises and the threat of the men stalking the woods.

“Exactly how long do you think the guys are going to be ‘immobile’?” I ask nervously.

“I’d give it a couple more days. We should be well out of the area by then.”

Trampling on, our footsteps seeming obnoxious in the dead silence of the forest, we follow the dips and curves of the area, always conscious of our footing. The last thing we needed was for both of us to fall prey to more of Rigs traps.

Where it was blustery all day, tonight it is unusually calm, and the temperature seems almost balmy. I’m tempted to extricate myself from my many layers of clothing, but I don’t want to waste more time.

Finally, after much plodding along, we come to the clearing with the pit.

“Jesus…” Mella mutters fearfully.

My eyes grow wide as the cloud-filtered moonlight allows me better vision. The land is pocked with dozens of beach ball-sized holes, and the trees lining the area are all bent at unnatural angles, facing outward into the forest. The tang of decaying blood reaches my nose on a soft breeze. I force my gag reflex away and carefully tread on the mushy ground, my boots sinking in with a sickening squish. I try to go farther, but Mella latches onto the wrist of my jacket, effectively halting me even as I hiss at her to let me go.

“Something isn’t right,” she murmurs quietly.

I give her my best ‘no shit, Sherlock’ look. “The only thing not right here is the fact that I don’t see Ríjez,” I say stiffly, wrenching my jacket out of her hold.

“Stay put!” she snaps, but I ignore her, plodding onward to check the craters. The smaller holes are filled with dark red liquid reflecting the glow of the moon. The stench of gore is dizzying, nauseating, and more pronounced as I come closer to the pit that we had tossed Andy into. Hesitantly, I peer over the edge as a thick cloud eclipses the mood, dimming the light to the point of blinding me.

“Damn you,” I hiss. I don’t crouch down, knowing that it will only bring me closer to the blood-soaked ground, as well as Andy’s corpse.

The moonlight finally returns, slowly shedding shards of illumination on the clearing. And into the pit.

A startled gasp lodges itself in my throat.

“Mella? Mella!” I cry urgently, even though I try to keep it low. Panic and fear weave tightly in my chest, adrenaline fires my brain and lungs, making me pant in anxiety. I claw the palms of my hands in an effort to keep my mind in its fragile realm of sanity.

Mella sprints over to me, crouches down to my level and gazes into the pit. “My God...".

My voice sounds horribly constricted when I say, “I guess it wasn’t satisfied with Dev.”

Shaking her head, she straightens to her full height, clasps my shoulder, and pulls us both away. “We need to get out of these woods. Now.”

I nod numbly, but one synapse of thought raises its defiant head. “What about Ríjez?”

Mella purses her lips and drags me to the edge of the clearing. “We’re just going to have to hope that he’s still out there,” she says stonily. “For now, we need to move, with or without him.”