Riding a flipcart is fairly easy under normal circumstances: flat terrain, few tree branches to slap me in the face, and the agility that comes with not having a thirty-pound backpack. Now, though, we have to make frequent stops to rest, stretch our backs, rehydrate, and check our course. Just before dawn, the two of us are so tired that we can hardly stay on our flipcarts.
“We have to find a safe place to sleep,” I say. “Keep your eyes open for a cave or something that will hide us from aircraft.”
Not long after, Phlix spots a fallen tree. It’s one of those enormous trees that a city bus could drive through easily without hitting traffic on the other side. The tree has fallen against a rock formation, forming a lean-to of sorts. “What do you think?” she asks wearily.
“I say yes. I say hang up a camouflage blanket over this branch and it is lights out.”
We place our gear against the rock and spread out a blanket. We drape our remaining blanket over a low branch before we climb inside and pull the blanket over the opening to conceal our presence. Phlix rummages in her backpack, then she tosses me a protein bar. It tastes exactly like the ones I ate before when I journeyed here with Trey, except now it doesn’t just taste like cat poop. It tastes like cat poop and freedom. I eat every bite without complaint.
“Do you want me to take the first watch?” she asks like she might die if she has to stay awake a second longer.
“No. We both sleep.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” she asks.
“We’re either caught or we’re not—dead or we’re not. We don’t have any weapons and your shadow land only works if you’re awake to use it, so . . . we don’t have to worry about it.”
“Okay.” She yawns. “You make dying in my sleep not sound so bad.”
“There are worse things, huh?”
I awake to a deep, rumbling growl close to our tree fort. It makes every hair on my body stand on end. I don’t move other than the widening of my eyes. I stare at Phlix. She heard it too, if the look of terror in her blue eyes is any indication. Something big snuffles around the base of the fallen tree only meters from us. Phlix’s hand finds mine when the beast outside howls so loud it shakes dry, dead needles from the branches above our heads. Something heavy crashes against the other side of the tree trunk. The ground shakes. Phlix squeaks, scrunching her eyes tight. Frozen, not knowing if it’s better to stay or better to leave, I wait, holding my breath.
Silence.
Phlix breathes, “Is it—”
“Shh.” I listen some more.
I sit up, leaning back against the rock. Phlix moves next to me. A darkening pool is seeping beneath the tree by my feet. I pull the blanket away from it. “What is it,” Phlix whispers.
“I don’t know,” I reply. On my knees, I crawl near the oozing dark patch. Touching my finger to it, it comes away red. Cringing, I rub my finger in the dirt, trying to get the blood off. I join Phlix again. “It’s blood,” I say near her ear.
“Blood” Blood from what?” she asks.
“I have no idea,” I reply. “Stay here and I’ll go look.”
“I’m coming with you,” she whispers, clutching my hand so that I don’t leave her behind.
We creep out of our tree fort. I pick up a medium-sized stone, and grip it tight, ready to throw it at anything that moves. It’s growing dark, but it’s not quite there yet. We have to walk around the tree’s massive roots in order to see what’s on the other side. With cautious steps, I lead us there. I press my back to the tree’s uprooted base. Holding my breath, I peak around the side. My heart hammers in my chest and I pull myself back, flattening against it again.
“What is it?” Phlix asks urgently.
“Hovercar-sized wolf with horrifying fangs.”
“What’s it doing?”
I peek around the tree again. It hasn’t moved. “It’s either sleeping or it’s dead.” I take a deep breath and sneak around the end of the tree. Walking slowly near the beast, I can’t see any breathing. The head comes into view. It has several recurve arrows sticking out of its face. I straighten immediately, turning around and glancing at the tree line behind me. Nothing moves, but I know we’re being watched.
Hurrying back to Phlix, I grasp her elbow and urge her back to our fort. “Cavars are watching us. They killed that thing. Let’s get our packs and move.”
“How do you know Cavars killed it?”
“They used recurves,” I growl. “No one else uses those.”
“Why would they help us?” she asks.