Part 7
THE FUNERAL
Wheaty opened the doors to the Wolf's Den. His eyes somewhat blinded by the morning sun. He grabbed Cecelia's arm and pulled her out of the bunker. He was carrying his Armalite Rifle with him because of the suspected Hunters and The Chosen out searching for Cecelia.
The road they walked was rocky, muddy and dry. For Cecelia was see her sister off -have a funeral without a corpse, but there was no flowers, nor a relic to bury because Cecelia had lost the night she was to be sent to Holland Valley,
They were just walking.
Cecelia prayed that when they returned to the Wolf's Den, she would have changed, that she would no longer feel lost about Amelia. Yes, she was gone and she would never return. Nothing could change it. Cecelia could try and forget about her sister; take revenge on Jacob ; or fall down rabbit's hole again. Down she goes.
The two people wandered for what felt like an hour. Silence was upon them; Nothing was said. Cecelia swore she could hear the air flow through her lungs,
"Is this yours?" Wheaty quarreled which such concern in his voice, breaking the silence between the two of them. His hand opened to reveal a necklace with a ring as the pendant. It was Cecelia's and she thought she'd lost it. "I found it that night, we brought you back to the Wolf's Den."
He meant the night she'd was in the truck and then something had happen, but she couldn't remember what it was.
They both wandered upon the Whitetail Mountains terrain, across the sunny tundra's of the rocks and passed the pine trees. The clouds swiftly and scornfully fell into the azure sky.
Now that Wheaty had given her, her grandmother's engagement ring, she could bury it. She could the ring on the chain and never have to it again. Why? Because it reminded her of Amelia. It prompted her to think about her sister -perhaps too much, and she'd burst into tears.
She didn't know where to bury it -perhaps with a flower. A pretty flower; not a weed. A flower that would symbolise how pretty and elegant and graceful her sister was. Preferably one she didn't have to pull out the ground, but one that was planted beside a tree, so she could know it was her sister grave.
The grave with no corpse.
"I'm going to bury it," Cecelia said, determination laced her words. Wheaty knew she meant the necklace.
Neither of them had any good topics to talk about. Not that Wheaty felt like talking about Eden's Gate to Cecelia since whatever happened at the St. Francis Veteran Center, and he wouldn't want to ramble on about music, not since now that Cecelia had suggested that she wanted to bury the necklace.
"Whereabouts?" Is all that the teenager could say. He didn't want to be impatient but he desired to have respect for the broken girl.
"I don't know," Cecelia knew exactly what she wanted.
Silence again.
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Cecelia had found a tree with a patch of wildflowers growing at the roots. She knew it was the tree to see off her sister. It was the one she'd set her eyes on.
The tree were slender enough -maybe enough to hug it; the brown shitty-coloured bark was cracked to the core; the leaves were a graven green that darken under the sun; the shadow of the cowered over the sharp blades of grass.
She stopped in her tracks, so did Wheaty.
Cecelia turned to him to say something: "Could I have a minute?" She'd asked it with such sorrow in her tone that her eyes seemed to be solemn, and almost clenched with tears.
Wheaty nodded. "Yeah, sure. Anything."
The boy turned away to look at view and admire the mountain peaks the everlasting forest that could withstand any explosion. It seemed to thrive today through the sunlight; the glimmering sunshine drying out the grass.
Cecelia quickly paced to the tree that had caught her eye. She glanced back -she was far away from Wheaty. She bent down on her knees, caressing the wild flower's petals with elegance. They were beautiful. Her eyes start to fill with water unconditionally, though she wiped them away and held on even further.
The soil with thin. Cecelia could dig a hole beneath the soil. She scratched a patch of dirt next the bunch of wild flowers. The gradient particles of the tiny bits of soil were trapped in her unhealthy looking fingernails. Some of the soil could get out with her other nails, but others will stay and become an unavoidable irritation. Digging a small hole beneath the Earth for the necklace to be buried like a coffin, Cecelia stared at the wildflowers. She knew that deep down that those flowers would always remind her of Amelia.
The ways that petals would variant in colour on the outline; the leaves were perfectly shaped to fill the body of the flower; the stems was strong and standing tall with a great amount of strength. Cecelia whether it could have been the Bliss flower, but refused to believe it even though they were not.
When Cecelia thought the hole she'd dug was deep enough, her hand clenched the necklace with her Grandmother's engagement ring till sweat due its part. Her gaze was on the soil itself, not taking her eyes off it.
Cecelia's fingers strung the chain up and hovered it over the hole. Until her fingers dropped it and the necklace lay there ravelled in unformed circle.
Cecelia wanted to cry -too many of her tears were already shed. She felt the need to be sobbing but nothing was physically coming out of her tear ducts. Her gaze was still on the hole, but now a necklace had betrothed it.
A small smile escaped. amelia was in a better place. She hoped that she was.
"Goodbye Amelia," so soft and sweet her voice sounded under the tree in which her sister's grave stood.
Cecelia's eyes closed before they opened again to bury the loss and the shame with the soil. When the necklace was deep in the rabbit's hole, Cecelia patted it with her dirty hands. She stayed silent for several minutes before placing a gray and distraught pebble on the patch where the necklace was.
The girl arose from her knees and walked towards Wheaty. He was on guard from the cult.
As the girl strided past Wheaty words were spoken. "Funeral's over,"
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Initially the two were to go back to The Wolf's Den. Wheaty said to go through and over the Whitetails Mountains because he knew it would be safer. It wasn't, Jacob had Hunters everywhere; Jacob had Chosen everywhere; Jacob had Judges everywhere. And they were all looking for Cecelia. See, Wheaty knew that if they caught her again they'd terminate her for escaping and not being what they thought was 'Eden's Gate material.'
His hands began to sweat as they clenched the Armalite Rifle he was holding.
Cecelia didn't know how to fight, it worried her that if she were to stay with the Whitetails she'd have to learn and it scared her -frightened her even. She lacked knowledge in how to shoot guns and she also lacked knowledge in how to use a basic knife. She didn't know how to defend herself which become a worry and she knew she couldn't survive all the time hiding behind Wheaty or Eli's back all the time. Eventually, she'd have to learn.
The pair of them were silent, it was unnecessary silence. Cecelia looked ahead as they trekked through the mountains and Wheaty stared at the ground.
A startling noise was heard in the distance. It caused conversation between the two and it sounded like wolves.
"What was that?" Cecelia asked, wide-eyed and staring at Wheaty. She began to feel 'on-edge' because of the unknown sounds.
"Judges,"
She was being hunted. A spiteful thought came into her head of whether she'd be captured again. She would be killed if the cult caught her and they would kill her.
The howls from the Judges became more gruesome; more intimidating; more deafening as they were closing in. The wolves probably caught their scent. But from what?
Jacob probably knew it was the Whitetails that helped her escape and why she wasn't at Holland Valley by now.
Quickly, Wheaty ran and Cecelia followed. Their pace was moderate, so much that they adrenaline hadn't spiked in their bloodstream and their lungs weren't punctured. Their lungs were fresh with the Hope County air. It was Cecelia who was becoming out of breathe.
"Wait..." Cecelia breathed, stopping in her tracks, "Wheaty."
He stopped and perceived her facial features.
"We can't run to The Wolf's Den. They might track us there," Cecelia stated.
Wheaty knew she was right and panicked in the meantime.They both needed to think of a better plan for what to do. They couldn't run far enough-the Judges would find them.
"Hide behind the rocks," Wheaty suggested.
He was the first to go higher up the mountain, pulling Cecelia up with her petit hand. Though they were careful to not let any loose rocks fall down the mountain and give away their location. Wheaty grabbed Cecelia's arm gently, pulling behind a tall rock. They were both crouching.
The howls became sweet and peaceful church hymns. Cecelia peak over the rock only to see several of the Jacob's wolves runnings and sniffing the ground. Then dust flew into her eye. She looked at Wheaty who was rubbing dirt over her clothes and he did the same with himself.
"What are you doing?" She whispered, in quite an unkindly way. Though she though what he was doing was absurd to high heaven, but she understood what he was doing was protecting her from Jacob.
"Covering our scent," He answered back, rubbing dust from the mountain over his face and then his Armalite Rifle.
Cecelia nodded in advance.
Soon enough the howls became distance and were further away from them. Cecelia almost sighed in relief, but was cautious incase if there were any Chosen or Hunters nearby. Wheaty stood up to check the surroundings, he had his gun at bay -to shoot anything that seems threatening.
"That was close Celia," Wheaty breathed, looking at the girl who was beginning to get up off the ground, "They'll be hunting you."
Cecelia nodded quickly. She didn't know how to react to that, because she wasn't sure whether to not care about it. Well, she couldn't for a start. And she didn't want to freak out about it because there were no tears left to cry.
"We gotta get outta here," Wheaty said, heading down the mountain.
Total Word Count : 1766 Words