90 DEADLY DAYS (WEEKLY UPDATES RETURNING THIS DECEMBER)

Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

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I've decided to name this the 'bread war'. It's funny--the name. I wish the truth was funny too, but the past days have shown that the Raider's were serious about their threat. Entirely serious.

The body count rises with each passing day. I stumble upon the corpses sometimes, feeling sick to my soul, as I run in the opposite direction. The Raider's have a sick habit of carving some sort of claim or clan name on the Graduates they string up. I find the names Butcher, Jupiter, and Hectare.

That first name.

Butcher.

Who would call themselves that? I imagine a deranged Raider wandering these woods, hungering for blood.

The terrain under the canopy seems to be where most bloodbaths ensue. I've taken to sleeping in caves carved out in the sides of cliffs. If nightfall comes and I haven't found one, I spend the entire night alert, pulse roaring at even the slightest sounds. I think that's how most of the Graduates meet their end; choosing unwisely to sleep on the cool earth under the branches. I barely blink those nights, too scared I'll find a cold-blooded clan of Raiders closing in when my eyes reopen.

I wake up in one of these caves just as the tracker announces the fifteenth day. Pushing off the stone wall, I crawl to the entrance of the cave. Cheery sunlight warms my face and heats the rock beneath my knees. I squint past it at the jungle below.

The noise of the rainforest creatures hums at its usual pitch. No warning caws of birds or howls of the gangly critters that swing from branch to branch. I turn my gaze to the horizon bridged by tall trees.

"If Jewel and Kerry are here, please make today the day I find them."

I could swear the sun twinkles. A hopeful smile emerges on my face as I swing out of the cave, securely inserting my fingers into a handholds on the rock face. From there I find my footing, and proceed to climb down with practiced ease.

On the ground, stomach pangs hit like forceful elbow jabs. I swallow twice, hoping that it'll trick it into silence for awhile. My belly only gurgles more and a vengeful, ravenous ache consumes my insides.

It's then I realize I'm starving.

I want to rip the bark off every tree and devour it. I want to eat every single leaf in sight. If eating dirt could end this, I'd lick it off the ground.

My eyes land on a patch of grass that appears edible and I lose all control. Falling to my knees, I rip shreds of it from the earth and shove it in my mouth. It tastes bitter and tinged with vile acidity, but I wouldn't stop even if someone held a gun to my head.

Stomach acids roars into action as the stalks slip down my esophagus. I devour until I'm sick, and then I force down some more. I stop when it no longer hurts to move. I finally feel complete, the feeling that evaded me during those weeks of starvation.

The bush behind me moves. I still. Should I run?  When it rustles again, I break into a sprint unfettered by stomach pains. My legs rip through the jungle and rising adrenaline sends me racing. I run as fast as the Helion metro.

Rare wind rushes past, a few gusts hitting me in the face. A yell slides from my voice box, up my throat, and blares out of my mouth. I let it last for a long time, feeling my frustrations, fears, and worries die in the noise.

I am free. I am strong. I am brave.

I am Xaro.

Relief screeches to a halt hours later when I'm on my knees again. This time sick as a dog and vomiting. The grass comes up the same way it went down, only a little more wet and slick. My pathetic self couldn't even digest it.