Chapter Four

Chapter Four

"Are you out of your mind?" I knew that Ben might be a little iffy on my idea, but I wasn't expecting him to react like this. As soon as the words came out of my mouth that I wanted to go on the hunt he reacted badly, and now his steel gray eyes bore into mine with an intensity that I had never seen before.

We are at the guard tower again. I thought it would be a good opportunity to approach him when we were alone up here in a more relaxed atmosphere, when he'd be less likely to tell me no, but I see now that this is going to be a lot harder than I had initially planned. I stand facing him and have to tilt my head back a bit to look him in the eye because he's towering over me. My next words aren't so wise, but I let my rage, as always, get in the way.

"As a matter of fact, Ben, I am!" I snap, clenching my fists. My nails dig into my own skin but I can't feel the pain right now, "Being stuck in here is driving me crazy! If I have to stay here a moment longer, doing nothing, I'm going to snap!"

"I think you already have." Ben hisses before turning away from me. He starts pacing around in the tower, running his fingers through his scruffy, strawberry-blonde hair. The wood creaks beneath his boots, and just for a tiny moment I wish the floorboards could break so that he would fall and I wouldn't have to deal with this. "I'm sorry Lilith but there's no way that she's still alive, and I can't take you with me on a dangerous trip just so that you can satisfy some urge of yours. There are lives at stake here. Real lives. Not imaginary ones."

"Imaginary?" I see spots in my vision as the blood rushes to my head. I'm so shocked by his casual dismissal of my gut feeling that my jaw drops, and suddenly I'm charging towards him, barreling down on him with my clenched fists. "She's alive, I know it! I can feel it!"

Ben blocks his face from my attacks and most of my hits land on his arm. I may be smaller than him but I know how to deal damage, and I aim to at least leave bruises on the b*****d. But then the tables turn and Ben lashes out at me, grabbing me by the wrists and yanking them forcefully over my head, locking his arms so that he's holding me at a distance. I try to twist out of his grasp but he is much stronger than me, and his grip hurts. A dark look enters his eyes, giving him a sinister appearance.

I've never seen Ben like this before. It makes me stop in my tracks.

"You're out of line!" He snaps, and I'm brought back to reality.

There is a hierarchy in the village although it is never really enforced. The leader is my father, Adam. That much is obvious. But the head hunter is basically seen as a second-in-command. By telling me I'm out of line, Ben is reminding me of my place. I swallow hard and swear I can taste bile in my throat. If I can't show respect for my own leader, I'm pretty sure my pride won't allow me to submit to Ben. But I have to. I don't know what will happen if I don't.

As if he can read my mind, he doesn't leave me wondering when he growls, more lowly this time, "Touch me again, and I'll throw you off this tower."

My arms are going numb because he still holds them above me. I offer up no snide remark and try not to look him in the eye, but he still doesn't release me. Instead, he pushes me against a corner and pins me to it, "Now listen to me. You're not going anywhere, Lilith. Women aren't allowed to leave camp. You aren't trained to handle the situations out there. You weren't made for that kind of thing. So stop causing trouble, stop getting ideas, and I might not be forced to hurt you."

I'm going to have bruises on my wrists, and I'm shaking because I'm legitimately scared of Ben now, but I still manage to find some defiance within me to ask one last question, "Is that a threat, Ben?"

Ben leans in closer until his face is inches from mine and locks me in his predatory gaze, smirking, "It's a promise."

I can't take it anymore. Catching him off guard, I bring my knee up to hit him in the groin. He releases me to double over, and with my now free hand I punch him in the jaw hard enough to knock him back so that I can move. Ben is momentarily stunned and I take the chance to grab my bow and arrows and get out of there.

I leap off of the tower and manage to catch one of the trusses along the way. My arms are nearly yanked out of their sockets, but the adrenaline that runs through me tells me to keep going despite the pain. I climb down the rest of the way and land with a thud on the ground below, stopping only once to look over my shoulder, where I see Ben's face peering down at me over the side.

He rubs his jaw and glares down at me but I'm relieved to see that he doesn't follow. Instead, his expression is already shifting again, back to the icy cool one that he usually wears, the malice leaving his eyes. He turns back to his job and stares out at the forest while I catch my breath. When I can breathe again, I sprint towards camp to gather my thoughts, and try to figure out what I'm going to do now.

By the time I reach the campfire my cheeks are flushed red and I collapse onto a log, pressing my face against the cool, rough texture of the wood. My arms lie limply at my sides, and I unconsciously close my hand around a stick on the ground, wanting to snap it in half just to break something. My grandiose plan has hit a wall that I don't know how to climb. If Ben won't let me go, I'll have to find a way to sneak myself in somehow. Because regardless of what he says, I'm going. This might be the only chance I get to find my mother and he's not going to blow that for me.

I push myself up into a sitting position and dig the heels of my fur boots into the ground. I poke the fire before me with the stick that I found, as if provoking it would give me some answers. I don't get any reply except for a small shower of glowing embers that blow away as soon as they are set free. God how I hate Ben…he's right about everything. It would be so much easier to poke holes in his logic if he didn't make so much sense.

I can't just go off on my own without the hunters, otherwise that would have been my second choice and I would be gone by now. Ben wasn't wrong when he pointed out my lack of training on being on the outside. I can't imagine how it's much different from being in here, but my limited perspective comes from a girl who was raised within these walls and has never left them. Maybe he's exaggerating on how dangerous it is, but do I want to take that chance? I've watched grown, capable men disappear without a trace out there. Was a young woman with no experience any better than them?

I know how to fight. I don't know how to kill unless it involves hunting small game. Can I take on a ferocious wild animal? Or a pack of ferocious wild animals? I shudder when I think about the tales I hear of the beyond. I haven't seen any of the monsters described from the tower on my guarding days, but that doesn't make them any less real. There are creatures out there that, I hear, were not crafted by nature, but by man himself a long time ago. I've read about a few attacks in our history, although the last one happened years ago, before the walls had been built.

The disadvantages of being alone outweigh by far any benefits that could come of doing it. I feel a crushing weight of defeat in my chest, and yet I refuse to give in. There must be some way.

Ahead of me, slightly in the distance, I watch as two of our hunters- Maurice and Chris- load up a sled with supplies such as first aid kits and weapons. Chris tucks a long, curved blade safely into it- a hunting knife. They don't use those to kill elk, normally. They can't get close enough to an animal that big to take it down with a knife- that's what spears are for. I know that the knife is for other things. Things that would be on the hunt as well. My hand twitches for a knife like that. I want to sink it into Ben, let him know just what exactly I think of him threatening me, but I take a breath and steady myself before I let my vengeful emotions carry me away. Murdering someone is definitely going to set me back quite a bit. I can't afford to do that right now.

Suddenly I feel an unpleasant hot breath on the back of my neck and instantly tense up. Whipping my head around, I come face to face with a long, pink tongue that reaches out to me and introduces itself to my nose, leaving it wet and slimy when it pulls away.

"Hey Fatso!"

The dog barks and I shove it out of my way, rushing to my feet and looking around to see who had dared call me a name. Timmy stands back a few feet, staring at me with wide, scared brown eyes, already backing away because he's realized the mistake he's made.

"What did you call me?"

"Not you…oh god no…" Timmy stutters and puts his hands up in surrender, "I was talking to the dog! That's his n-"

"You named it?" A cold nose nudges my hand. I wrinkle my nose with disgust and pull away, wiping my soiled fingers on my pants. I look down at the wolf-dog that wags its tail at me, and take a step to the side. "Timmy, these aren't our companions. We use them for work." I remind him.

The sixteen year old boy shrugs and takes a step towards the so-called Fatso while at the same time trying to avoid me. He moves carefully, as if afraid that I'm going to hit him. The stupid animal certainly is fat. I wonder what it's been eating, because our dogs mostly run wild, and they survive off of scraps that we feed them or what they can kill themselves.

"Yeah I know…but what's the harm in calling him Fatso?" He asks me innocently, tilting his head and hugging the dog's neck. Fatso turns and sticks his tongue in Timmy's ear. I fight the urge to vomit.

"You're letting him sleep in your tent, aren't you?" I pinch the bridge of my nose and scold him, "I'll tell you the harm of naming it. When you name things you get attached to them. Then they die and before you know it you're crying over a dumb animal when you could be doing something useful. Besides, you think you're helping him by overfeeding him like that? He's going on the hunt in less than a week and he needs to be fit or else he won't be able to survive. You're making him soft."

"Jeez Lilith…lighten up." Timmy stands up straight again and starts to turn away from me, mumbling, "I don't know what's wrong with you but did you ever notice that like, you don't have a happy mode? At all?"

I don't know how to reply to that, but the comment stings me for some reason. The way he looks at me makes me feel as if I've gone insane or something. I'm not crazy. I'm normal. I'm totally fine…I take a step towards him and accidentally kick a rock that sits by my foot. I pick it up and toss it at the boy's head, screaming "Get lost!"

The rock misses its mark, but Timmy doesn't need to be told twice. He turns on his heels and runs. Fatso stops and looks at me with his big stupid eyes, tilts his head, woofs, and then bounds after him.

"That was a bit harsh Lilith." Maurice appears at my side. He must have finished packing the sled, because I see Chris dragging it away to go put it with the others. "He's just a boy…"

I squint up at the giant that stands beside me, meeting his black eyes. Maurice is easily the biggest man here in camp. He is somewhere in his thirties, with dark brown skin that is easy to find in this pale wasteland. He and his wife have a newborn baby. Their tent is right next to mine, although I don't consider myself to be close to them. I'm surprised he's decided to come talk to me.

"I'll throw a rock at you too." I glare at him, but it's such a silly threat considering the person I'm talking to. Maurice is strong enough to break me in half like a twig if he really wants to, although I know he won't, because he's known as one of the most peaceful people in our group.

Maurice's eyebrows blend in with his skin so well that I don't even see them when he furrows them together, thinking. He puts a finger on his chin as if he's contemplating something. "I think…" His long arm extends and he rests a hand on my shoulder, "You need some work to do. We need to go hunting for some food before the trip. You should come with us. That is, if you actually know how to use that weapon." He points to the bow and arrows that lie in the snow.

I know that the playful challenge is meant to motivate me. Normally, I don't respond to peoples' attempts at trying to correct me, but there's something about Maurice that makes it hard to dislike him. His deep voice is soothing and yet powerful at the same time. I jerk my shoulder away and his hand falls, then I cross my arms over my chest and shrug, "You sure you want to be in the woods with me holding a deadly weapon?" My voice is much calmer now. I find myself actually fighting a smile.

Maurice's lips twitch like he's holding back a little bit of laughter, "As frightening as you are, I know you're not stupid enough to kill a hunter during times like these. I'm safe."

I can't fight it anymore and actually crack a smile before turning to get my things.

Author's Note

Writing without any feedback is like navigating a pirate ship through a stormy sea while blindfolded. Please leave a comment. :)