Spara and the other man don’t chase after the other deer. Spara pulls something out of a pocket in her clothes and begins to tie the legs of the deer together.
What is she doing with it? Why is she bothering to tie it up? It’s not like it’s going to run away. It’s obviously dead.
The other man calls out, “James, ya can a-bring ‘em closer. They’d be a-needin’ to a-see this anyways.”
James orders, “Ya can a-walk forward, slowly.”
We obey and walk until we are five paces from the deer.
It’s even more sickening up close. The deer’s eyes are still open, an intelligent brown. The deep red of the blood is already drying, matting down the fur. Insects already swarm the places where the knives hit. The legs are tied together with a coarse rope.
Spara addresses us, “If ya young-uns really be from the Complex, I’s be a-betting ya never a-seen somethin’ like this before.”
We shake our heads no.
Spara continues, “This be very impor’nt. Here, ya need death to be a-livin’.”
Is she implying something more than killing animals? Is she saying that one of us will have to die for the rest of us to live?
The other man, whose name I still haven’t picked up, takes a square of cloth out of his clothes. I watch as he carefully unfolds the cloth. When it’s completely unfolded, it resembles a large, square bag.
Spara holds the bag open as the man carefully slides the deer inside, his hands smeared with blood. I try to show no outward reactions, but my stomach turns with disgust. What need to they have for the deer’s corpse?
Spara ties the bag off with the same coarse rope that holds the deer’s legs together.
“Ya can start a’walkin’ again,” James quietly commands.
We do as we are told and begin are seemingly infinite path forward. Spara drags the bag with the deer carcass along the ground with a horrible scraping sound. By now, the sun hangs just above the tops of the trees.
My mind slips back to what Canton said. We’ll try to escape tonight. I still need to relay the message to Brinn and Piper.
With shaking hands I unzip my bag and grab out the container of crackers. By now, this container is almost empty. Only about ten left.
Just as I’m about to pass the container to Brinn, I allow it to slip from my fingers. I let out a faked surprised, “Oh!”
I immediately bend over and begin picking them up, putting the sandy crackers back in the container. Bridget turns around and hurries to help me. I whisper in choppy sentences when it’s safe, “Canton said. Try to escape. Tonight.”
Bridget doesn’t show any outward reaction. Did she hear me?
The last cracker makes it into the box. Bridget meets my eyes and gives a short nod. She understood. Relief floods through me, but I don’t allow it to show. I slip the container of crackers back in my bag and pull out a new one. I hand it around like nothing happened.
The nameless man shouts from behind, “Don’t let that be a-happenin’ again. We’s won’t be a-waitin’ for ya next time.”
I hurriedly nod to show that I heard.
The sky begins to turn colors again. Deep blues, bright oranges, pale pinks. I’m once again amazed by the beauty of it.
Spara commands, “This be where we’d be a-stoppin’ for the night. Don’t be a-tryin’ to escape. We won’t be all asleepin’ and we’s won’t be a-happy to a-see yer attempts at escapin’.”
YOU ARE READING
987 (Complex Series, #3)
Science Fiction-third book in the Complex series- Dana has been captured by Officials. She doesn't know who to trust and who to avoid. Anything she says or does could quickly cause her death. How long can she protect the secret of her and her friends' past? How lo...
