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Twenty-Four : Hatch

"Can we just get off this tree, now?" I ask.

"I can help with that." Replies a completely unfamiliar voice from not far beneath us.

***

There are four of them. All men. They wear winterwear, like us, thick jeans and lace-up boots with rainproof jackets zipped to the neck. However, these men have weaponry and their faces obscured by squares of fabric tied at the back of their heads. It is terrifying.

Corin and I obey at once, clambering steadily down the tree, pretending not to notice the long, narrow guns slung across the men's backs. I am no expert in weaponry, but I know enough to be curious about what sort of ammo hides inside. Are they ordinary, metal bullets, designed to hurt or kill? Or are they paralysing pellets? Maybe they have tranquiliser inside. I figure not only would it be rude to ask, it might provoke the men into using them. So I keep quiet.

The most terrifying thing, I think once my feet punch into the soft cushion of dead pine needles on the forest floor, is that I have no idea who these men even are. If they are from the refuge, why do they appear so hostile, and if they are from one of the Institutes or the Authority Bureau why aren't they wearing a uniform?

Corin hits the ground beside me, and the tallest of the men, the one who spoke to us up in the pine tree, instructs us in his gravelly voice to follow them. Two men in front of us, two men behind. We are boxed in. Like disobedient children, we have no choice but to do as we are told.

I can feel the pressure of Corin's thoughts pushing desperately into my own. I let him in.

I think we should tell these guys we're looking for the refuge.

I glance at him, striding along by my side. Strong and confident. He is looking off into the trees, as though analysing our surroundings. You would never guess we were having a conversation.

"Are you sure? I'm gonna be honest - I'm scared."

Don't be scared. I promise I will keep you safe. Whatever happens.

"That's a nice sentiment, but it won't do much good if they shoot you." I won't say it, but I hate his reassuring words because they are what my father should have said. And he didn't. The only person I can rely on to keep me safe is myself.

I don't think they'll shoot me. There is a long pause. I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna tell them.

We walk in silence a while longer. The river comes into view and we follow it's path further downstream. Corin still hasn't said anything. I begin to wonder where we are going. They haven't taken our backpacks, so that's promising.

I send a missive into Corin's mind. "Have you chickened out?"

I am waiting for the right time, he replies smartly. My guess is, he can't stop staring at the guns and wondering whether being shot hurts more, or less, than getting your stomach gouged by an angry cougar.

Finally, we stop beside a particularly loud area of the river, whitewater rapids churning violently against half-submerged boulders. The men lead us into the cover of the trees, where all six of us stand and stare at each other for a moment, as if sizing up opponents, before the tallest man, the one with the rough voice, asks us a question.

"How did you find the pine tree?" The cloth covering his face moves gently as he speaks.

I glance nervously at Corin, while chewing the inside of my cheek.

Might as well be honest. He reaches out - this time without changing his mind - and laces his fingers through mine. Braver with his support, I announce, "I saw it. In a vision. We were led to it."

There is a long moment of tense silence. I squeeze Corin's hand and he squeezes back.

Then, the tall man reaches behind his head and unties the knot holding the fabric over his face in place. It falls away, and he scrunches it up, shoves it in his jacket pocket. His mouth folds into a warm smile. He has stubbly cheeks, and looks about my father's age.

"Welcome to the refuge," he says simply. He extends a hand for each of us to shake. I take it first, uncertainly. It is warm, and rough, and slightly sweaty. "We were expecting a visitor - but two, this is a surprise."

Corin's handshake with the man is extremely brief. I gaze around in confusion. There is nothing here but more trees, fallen logs and damp dark muck on the forest floor. Where is the refuge?

Then I notice the three men who accompanied the journey, bent over, brushing leaves aside as though uncovering something hidden. Oh. They are uncovering something hidden. A rusty, metal trapdoor set into the ground. There's a few holes which they grab and use to haul the door open. It squeals as it lifts, and folds backwards, leaving a gaping blackness in the earth.

Well, I guess we are going in.