Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Stones of Summer: Instinct ❯ Early-Spring/27 ( Chapter 12 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter Thirteen
Early-Spring/27

“We all carry around so much pain in our hearts. Love and pain and beauty. They all seem to go together like one little tidy confusing package. It's a messy business, life. It's hard to figure--full of surprises. Some good. Some bad.”
Henry Bromel

Eight Years Later

The truck kicked up dust as it sped over the land. Hunting season had started three days ago and we were at least two days from camp. We had a lot of ground to make up. Grace and Waylen were curled up with the two cubs we had picked up from my parent's sanctuary in the back, sound asleep. How they slept as we rocketed over the choppy tundra was beyond me. I was lucky I could keep down my breakfast.

I scanned the grounds in search of general things we should avoid and spotted something I hadn't seen in years.

“Stop, wait.” I was out of the truck before it even skidded to a halt. I caught a glimpse from the corner of my eye of Chris's hand trying to grab me.

“What is it?” I jogged to the closest one and squatted down. Briefly, I rubbed my fingers along the top rock, then stood and looked out at the land again. Every thousand feet or so, a tiny tower, only four or five rocks high, stood, marking the land.

“ I know this place. I've been here.” I thought of knocking the tower down, a symbol of being free of the past, but thought better of it.
'Some stranger may need to find her way home.' Instead I got back in the truck and pointed toward the way we came.
“Head back that way, follow them.” He didn't need to be told what to follow. I had, in my younger years, pointed out and knocked over every single one of them in Myali's forest. Those ones hadn't been to help me find home, those ones had been to chain me to the need to survive.
The truck swerved, loosing traction on the dirt but at last taking off. I didn't think I could run this anymore, nor would I try, but I could remember.

The feeling of the wind at my back and my feet pressing me forward, the feeling of being unstoppable. I hadn't given up running those years back, but instead of running away, I was running home, like I started out. My journey home.

“Stop, stop. Here.” I was out again, moving with forgotten speed as I dashed down the small decline, Chris behind me.

“Wait. Get a stick.” We looked around and found a couple which I deemed too thin, finally finding one I felt was the right thickness. I prodded it in the ground in a few places, receiving only the crunch of the dry dirt.

Clach
The stick snapped in half as a metal trap, hidden in the dense foliage, snapped closed. It was old, it was rusty, it was coated in blood. I stared at it for a few seconds before turning away.
“Let's go.” It wasn't the one I was looking for. He wasn't here. But I wouldn't give up. I would find him, and I would tell him I'm sorry, I would tell him I had finally understood his song, and that I had someone looking out for me now, I would tell him that I still loved him. But first I had to find him.
We trudged up the small incline and saw Grace sitting up looking around. She spotted us and waved, rubbing her eyes with one hand.
“Mommy, are we there yet?” She asked in the way only a three year old could. We both got back in the truck, turned it around and headed back home.
“No baby, we've still got a journey ahead of us. Go back to sleep, I'll wake you when it's time.” The truck jumped ahead and I look over at the twins. Grace had fallen asleep almost immediately, which had me grinning.
“You need to stop jumping out of the truck when it's still moving, you're gonna' hurt yourself.” I rolled my eyes but kept smiling. I just had to keep smiling and I could deal with any burden. Chris frowned at me, not liking the fact that I was blissfully ignoring him. I twisted in my seat, swearing quietly when the truck jumped over a hole and bruising my bottom. I glared at Chris.

“You did that on purpose...” He shrugged, but didn't answer. I growled but went back to my previous intent in picking up the two large cubs. They were the size of medium height dogs, and weighed twice as much. Chris had to reach back to help me when I nearly fell over. I wouldn't be able to pick even one up soon. They were both sleeping, contently snoozing their trip away. The leashes that kept them in the truck rattled, but they paid them no mind. I looked into the face of one and saw the face of the tiger that had saved my life, only to have his taken.
“We'll need to ween them into the regular enclosure, Jiya won't be happy with them, neither will Sarai.” I put them back so that they could continue their naps and planned on how to introduce them to the larger, older tigers. I rubbed at the back of my neck, settling down in me seat. We had multiple species in our sanctuary, and were leaving in three weeks to head south to get funds to finish the fences that would keep other unwanted animals out of the enclosures, and the tigers in. We also had to brief the community on the death of Myali and Sasha. No one would be happy about that, but such is life.