Becoming (22 page)

Gaia gazed into the treetops. The morning breeze was crisp and biting, playing with the branches. A few russet leaves drifted to the ground lilting like boats on the waves. Autumn was in its prime, the harvest month, the time of endings, and new beginnings. The time before winter comes and the long darkness falls. Like all the seasons it heralds change. Gaia heard the squawk of a bird, a harsh and bitter call. She looked into the branches and saw two black crows with grey hooded caps. One had a small bird in its mouth, struggling, flapping its wings, desperate to escape the murderous grip. The crow played with it, squeezed the last droplets of life from its victim. The other bird stood by letting out a callous cackle, a triumphant cry of victory. They both flew down to the earth beneath the tree and began to peck at their victim, rip its small, lifeless body apart with their black pointed beaks. Gaia looked on, fascinated and horrified by the cruel sight. Ruth and Mary gazed ahead in silence letting the world and chaos drift by, the controlled chaos of nature. 

The group made their way through the woods until they reached the edge of the trees. A field beyond snaked down and around the foot of a hill. The other side was where the river began again. Freya and Aran led the others across the field towards the water. The river was much narrower now, just a few isolated trees dotted its banks. The land was rising, the going tougher as they neared the hills. They would reach the lower stretches by nightfall, and by tomorrow would begin the steeper climb into the higher ground. They would continue to follow the river, to its source, to the place where its journey began and theirs would end.

Later that morning, as the sun reached its highest point in the sky they saw a small village in the distance, about a mile beyond. They could see no people, only a trail of smoke billowing from one of the chimneys. Freya led them as they crept towards a small barn, a safe distance from the village. Aran and Freya ran ahead to search the building while Gaia hid with Ruth and Mary behind one of the few remaining trees. Despite the clear sky and sunshine it was cold, and Gaia huddled close to the girls to keep them warm. The sisters were silent, still locked in vacant expressions.

Aran and Freya returned. The barn was empty apart from some rusting farmyard equipment and a few bales of hay. Keeping low they shuffled towards the building and took refuge inside, throwing down their packs and lying back against the bales. Everyone lay in silence. Gaia could still feel the effects of the drug, but the sickness had gone, replaced with a hunger. Gaia sat up and spoke.

‘Is anyone hungry?’

Aran and Freya nodded. Gaia took some food from one of the backpacks and handed it to the girls. They took it, ate without speaking. It was clear both were hungry. Aran and Freya devoured the cheese and fruit, then Aran lay down and closed his eyes. Freya got to her feet and paced around the barn, disappearing for a while. Soon she returned and approached Gaia.

‘Stay here and watch these. I’m going to have a look in the village and see what I can find.’

Gaia frowned.

‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’

‘There’s people there, I’ve just seen some. I just want to check out if they’re friendly or not. We’re not far from the hills. They may know something about this community we’re looking for.’

Gaia was still nervous, but knew Freya and there was little point in trying to change her mind.

‘OK, but be careful.’

‘I will.’

Freya winked at Gaia and scurried off. The girls were sleeping. Gaia shuffled closer to Aran and laid her head back alongside his, staring at the ceiling. It was a pitched roof of wooden beams, stained with bird droppings and peppered with old nests. The frame of the barn was metal, lined with wooden planks, many of which were rotting. The floor was scattered with hay and dirt. The opposite side of the barn had a pen for animals, with metal fenceposts and intermittent troughs. The barn smelt dank, a mixture of rotten hay and animal dung. The putrid smell made Gaia feel nauseous. Her eyes felt heavy, struggling to stay open and soon Gaia drifted and began to daydream. Her mind was filled with the picture of a moment earlier, when Aran had smiled at her. Gaia could feel all her emotions again, how the care and worry had washed from her body. She longed to know that warmth and pleasure, never let him go.

Gaia felt Aran take her hand, and play with her fingers. Her eyes stayed closed, focusing on his gentle touch. Joy flowed through Gaia’s body, a warm sensation in the pit of her stomach, rising to her heart. She sensed Aran move and felt the heat of his breath against her cheek. Their lips touched. They both opened their mouths, locked together in a tender embrace. Gaia’s heart was racing, her whole body felt alive. Her eyes were still shut, and a kaleidoscope of colours swirled inside. Their lips parted and Gaia could still feel Aran’s breath on her face. As her eyes opened Gaia saw Aran’s piercing blue eyes staring into hers. There was a life in them, something she had not seen for days. There was a joy and longing, as Aran whispered.

‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been wanting to do that for some time now.’

‘There’s no need to say sorry. I’ve been hoping you would.’

Aran kissed her again, a shorter kiss but still filling Gaia with the flurry of emotion.

‘I guess we haven’t had much of an opportunity with all that’s been happening.’

‘I guess not.’

Aran lay back and held Gaia’s hand. They lay in silence as he played with her fingers once more. After a while Aran spoke.

‘You like that don’t you?’

‘What?’

‘Me playing with your fingers!’

‘Oh that, yes.’

Gaia tickled the palm of his hand, and Aran laughed.

‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘No, keep doing it. It’s nice. I like it.’

As they sat together Gaia was overwhelmed with happiness and joy. She had never felt this way. All her life she had felt alone, something Gaia had accepted, blocking out others and forging a solitary path of her own. She had built a wall and not wanted to let anyone in for fear of what she might find. The leaders were at best functional and passive, at worst they were manipulative and abusive. Gaia had always been running, but had now found something she had longed for. Aran had offered Gaia a way of escaping the island. He had given her the chance to leave the old life behind, and find a new freedom. Now Aran had given Gaia more, something to live for. Whatever happened, whatever freedom they all found, Gaia wanted to share it with Aran. As they sat, and Gaia savoured her thoughts of happiness, Aran’s breath warmed her neck. He whispered.

‘I’m sorry I’ve put you through all this.’

‘Stop apologising. I’m here because I want to be. You didn’t force me to come. There’s no need to say sorry.’

Aran let go of her hand and sat up. There was a long pause. Aran was sitting forward now, staring at the floor. Gaia could not see his face as he spoke.

‘No. This hasn’t turned out as I planned it and there’s something I need to tell you.’

Gaia put her arm around him.

‘What is it? Is there something wrong?’

Gaia could feel Aran’s body tense, his eyes remained fixed on the ground in front. There was a long silence before Aran answered.

‘I’ve put you all in danger, and I’ve not been much of a leader. I mean without Freya and you we wouldn’t have gotten this far.’

Gaia turned Aran’s face to hers and placed her hands on both his cheeks. Gaia glared into his eyes, her expression still tender, but with a flash of warning. Gaia studied his eyes and face for a response. Aran was looking at her, but there was something else, something troubling him. There was a sterner tone to her voice.

‘We all knew the risks. We’re in this together. What’s happened, well we’re still here, aren’t we? That’s the important thing. This whole place is screwed, the community, the outside world, everywhere. There’s got to be something better than all of this. We’re so close now I can feel it. Another day or so and we’ll be there and they’ll find us. I know they will.’

Aran forced a smile, a half smile betraying his doubt. He reached up and stroked Gaia’s cheek.

‘You’re right. We’re close now. They’re out there somewhere. They’ll find us.’

Aran’s voice tailed off, as he looked at the floor. Gaia lifted his chin, her words softened, voice slowed.

‘Whatever happens we have each other, and we’ve got Freya and the girls now. We all stick together no matter what. We protect each other and we’ll get through this. And if we don’t like what we find we’ll start again. We’ll make our own community, live by our own rules. We can do what we want now. We’re free now thanks to you. Don’t forget that.’

They kissed again, another long passionate kiss. This time it was different, a pledge to one another, a seal of their commitment. The future was uncertain, some of what lay ahead was beyond their control. Their lives had been determined by others, but they could build their own future, determine their own destiny. They had come this far, and were building the courage and strength to see their own potential. The journey was showing them they could find their own way.

Gaia rolled over and lay her head on Aran’s legs. She gazed at the ceiling, at the shafts of light piercing the gaps. Gaia thought of the young girls still resting beside them, of their dark past. She vowed to make things right, to give them a brighter future, to help them forget and heal. Gaia thought of Freya, all she had done to protect them, of the courage and determination, steel and ruthless edge. Freya had a blinding desire to survive at all costs. Her instinct was to protect. Gaia recalled how she felt about her only a few days before. Freya was an enemy, Kali’s servant, but she had shown her loyalty to Gaia and the others, had saved their lives. Gaia spoke.

‘Freya’s been amazing. We owe her a lot. We wouldn’t have got this far without her.’

‘I know you never liked or trusted her, but she’s definitely proven you wrong.’

‘Yes. I admit it. I got it very wrong.’

Gaia rolled her eyes and shrugged. Aran continued.

‘Maybe you need to trust people more. We all do.’

‘We can’t help how we’ve been programmed. The community has made us this way. They’ve made us see everyone as an enemy, even each other. It’s how they control. They divide and breed suspicion. We need to undo all that, teach ourselves to be something else.’

The shafts of sun continued to flicker and dance their way through the cracks in the wood above. Aran and Gaia lay together. They chatted, joked, and laughed. These were rare moments for them, of tenderness and connection without fear of being watched or facing reprisals. What had happened before hung like a dark shadow. Uncertainty stood in front. For now they ignored both, and tried to enjoy the time together. They had known each other a short while, and knew so little. Now was the time to laugh and bicker, tease and share their hopes and dreams. Gaia and Aran were nearing the end of this journey, but at the start of their own. A journey of discovery and excitement, love and wonder, heartache and pain, their time together.

Aran rested his head on the bales of hay. Gaia still had hers on his outstretched legs. Mary and Ruth lay together side by side, still sleeping. Ruth held her tattered blanket, Mary huddled in close. They all lay and waited for Freya to return, for news of what was to come. The next twenty four hours would determine where their futures lay. Either they would find the new community they were seeking, and the hope the whispers, letters, and notes had promised. They could face disappointment and uncertainty, or worse. This was the eve of their judgement and fate, all the potential and hope. Their dreams still held the promise that something better awaited.

18

Gaia had dozed, and was woken with a fright. Someone was shaking her. She opened her eyes, still dazed and sleepy. It was Freya, a look of alarm on her face.

‘We have to leave. They’re here.’

Gaia and Aran jumped to their feet and gathered the things. They woke Mary and Ruth and followed Freya to the back of the barn. There was a rickety old door on the side of the building facing away from the village. Freya was about to open it, as Aran took her hand.

‘What do you mean they’re here? Who?’

‘I went into the village. I was careful. Made sure no-one saw me. I hid in a garden and waited to see who was around. A group arrived. They were armed. They were fit and well trained. You could see they meant business. They had a pack of dogs. They were hunters, no question.’

Aran scowled and cursed under his breath. He pressed Freya further.

‘Did you recognise any of them?’

‘No, they’re not from the island but they were wearing the uniforms. I reckon they’re leaders from somewhere on the mainland, or a search team. They looked mean. They were quizzing someone, one of the locals. I managed to get a bit nearer and overheard bits of the conversation. They were definitely asking about us. They described us. They mentioned Clara and Yann too, so they must think they’re still with us. They mustn’t have found the bodies.’

Gaia spoke.

‘Are they still there?’

‘No. They headed out of the village. We need to get out of here, and get to the hills as soon as we can. If the dogs pick up our scent it’s over.’

Aran and Gaia exchanged concerned looks. Gaia knew this could happen, and had prepared for it in her mind. Part of her hoped it might not, and they might manage to evade the hunters. She always knew that was unlikely. They had been lucky to get this far without being caught, but the incidents and delays had meant any advantage over the hunters had been lost. The group needed to make a final push for the hills, hope the new community were watching and found them as promised in the note.

On their own the group could step up the pace with few problems. If they pushed on and walked all night they would be in the upper reaches of the hills by dawn tomorrow. However, Gaia, Aran and Freya now had the sisters. So far the girls had followed without question or complaint but the group had slowed the pace to compensate. This was a worry, but Gaia said nothing.

Gaia had heard whispers about the hunting dogs. They were bred to kill and trained to be clinical and ruthless. Their hunger for blood was insatiable. Once the hounds had a scent they would be locked onto the kill. If they were unleashed the group would have no chance. Gaia took the girls by the hand. It was hard to tell what the sisters made of all the talk, or how much they understood. Fear and tension were a universal language, and Gaia could only guess what was happening behind their dead eyes. Gaia set out a plan.

‘I say we head back to the river and follow it for a while. We can wade in it for a bit where it’s shallow enough. It’ll slow us down but it’ll cover our scent. We need to be very wary of those dogs. We all know what they’re capable of.’

Aran nodded. They both looked at Freya who gave a knowing look. Freya looked down at Ruth and Mary, a mixture of regret the girls had to face this, and concern as to how to protect them. Aran was keen to press ahead. They could not afford to wait any longer, and he agreed with Gaia.

‘We can’t push on as fast as we’d like, but that’s our best option. We’ll have to make it to the hills as soon as we can. We’ll travel as best we can through the night and should be well into the hills by morning. Hopefully, the others will find us like they said.’

Freya looked less confident, but she knew they had come this far and needed to see this through. Freya had seen the hunters and the dogs, and only told the others as much as they needed to know. The danger was far greater than they imagined.

‘I hope you’re right Aran. They’d better find us soon. We’re running out of time. This is it. Either they find us or it’s plan B.’

Aran frowned.

‘What’s plan B?’

Freya opened the door and grinned.

‘We don’t have one.’

Freya crept outside and scanned the area for signs of movement. All was clear so she ushered the others through. They made their way away from the village and down to the river. The water was shallow and calm, more of a trickle, a stream. They waded a path upstream for about a mile, and took the banks on the opposite side. The trees that lined the river were patchy now, offering no cover. They kept moving, the girls followed, their pace laboured, but they did not stop. Gaia and Aran held their hands, reassured them, guided them through the tricky places. Freya led the group, keeping a watchful eye, always alert. Ever the hunter, but this time the hunted.

The group stopped for a brief lunch. Afterwards, the girls tried to sleep. It was as though they had been programmed to snooze after food. Gaia tried to keep them awake. Freya remained edgy and was reluctant to pause for long. She ate standing, and made frequent sweeps of the area to check for threats. They pushed on through the afternoon, and saw nobody. Even the wildlife was scarce with only the occasional bird and some rabbits. The one notable sight was a large bird of prey circling above. It was slow and majestic. It circled, hovered a while, and flew off into the distance. The bird reminded Gaia of Yann.

The sun disappeared and thick, dark clouds moved in. By early evening the light had faded and specks of rain began to fall, a patter at first, but soon becoming heavy. The drops grew in size and ferocity and became piercing, like splinters being hurled from the sky. The temperature dropped and the combination of cold, the biting wind, and the relentless torrential rain all conspired to slow progress and sap their spirits.

Gaia’s clothes became soaked, her skin wet and cold, her bones aching with the damp chill. Gaia comforted and encouraged Ruth and Mary, but they looked shattered. Ruth’s face was lost in sadness and despair, her lip quivering with the cold. Ruth’s blanket was now just a sodden rag. As the rain fell down Gaia’s cheeks she could not tell whether they were tears or not. Gaia moved ahead alongside Freya who was pushing on, direct and relentless as ever.

‘Freya, we have to stop soon. We need to find somewhere to shelter and rest. The girls can’t keep this up. I’m not sure any of us can. Look at them.’

Freya did not look or let up her pace. Her gaze stayed firm and fixed on the path ahead. She answered Gaia.

‘We’ll push on through the night if we can. That’s what we agreed.’

‘I know, but things are different now. Look at the weather. We can’t keep going in this. We’re hardly moving as it is. And how we going to make it through the night. The light is fading badly now as it is. I can hardly make out my feet. We’ll never see in the dark. It’s too dangerous. We need to stop soon.’

Freya stopped and glared at Gaia who could see she was burning with rage. Gaia had forgotten this side of Freya, the dark, bitter, angry side. Despite all they had been through Freya had been the one who had remained level-headed and calm. Freya was cold and clinical, but invariably measured and calm. She knew what needed to be done and did it without feeling or emotion. This was anger and rage.

‘We agreed to keep going so we keep moving. Got it?’

Gaia sneered back at Freya, eyes flaring with rage. This was the old Freya, the one Gaia had known and hated on the island, Kali’s Freya. The image of Kali flashed into Gaia’s mind, the face merging with Freya’s as it had so often in the past. The two became one. It was a fleeting image, but enough to unleash all the hatred again. Gaia took a deep breath, regained control and calmed herself. This was not the time. She answered Freya, smothering the anger, not a hint of it in her voice.

‘You go on ahead, but you go alone. The rest of us will find somewhere to shelter. We’re stopping for the night.’

Freya looked at the girls and Aran. All three had fallen in behind Gaia, as the rain pelted down. Everyone was soaked and shivering. The sisters’ hair was dripping, lips seeping floods of rainwater. Everyone was exhausted, including Freya. Mixed with the desperation on Aran’s face was a plea, begging Freya to listen, urging her to back down. Freya was formidable, but Gaia was a match if need be. Gaia was adamant, Aran and the girls were with her. Freya knew she was on her own. The stalemate was broken and Freya conceded defeat.

‘I’m sorry. I hear. We’ll find somewhere to shelter, and hopefully, the rain’ll let up. The dogs might struggle to track our scent in this so we should be safe to move from the river for now. We’re going to have to if we want to find shelter.’

Gaia was relieved. This was for the best, but she did not want this to escalate, or Freya to go off alone. Aran shared Gaia’s relief, and reassured the group.

‘I can’t see the hunters following us in this. They’ll have holed up somewhere too. Let’s find shelter, anywhere will do and see what it’s like in the morning.’

Freya was content now, but had appointed herself a new mission.

‘I think I know the sort of place we might find somewhere to shelter.’

Freya set off again. The others followed. Neither the stand-off nor the rain had dampened her desire to lead. They were now well into the lower reaches of the hills. All around them were small valleys and ravines meandering off through the undulating folds and waves of the land. Stones, small rocks and boulders littered the landscape, grey stone speckled with green and yellow from the smattering of moss and lichen. The trees had thinned to nothing, leaving the group exposed to the biting elements. They could not risk finding any man-made shelters, as these would be a beacon to the hunters, an obvious place to look. This area had always been sparsely populated, therefore constructed relics of the old days were rare. Gaia had seen the occasional crumbling stone cottage, or what may have been a winter sheep pen. All were derelict, all sheep and humans now gone.

The sky had turned much darker now. There was no moon to light the way. The only potential light in the sky was the faint flickering of a million stars, but the thick blanket of dark cloud had smothered them from view. The group were at the mercy of nature, the ravages of the open moorland, and the unpredictable temperament of the bleak hills. There were added dangers underfoot with peat bogs. These were like quicksand and could swallow a man whole sucking him into sticky, airless depths and certain death. Freya knew the risks and was tracking their route with care. She led them away from the path of the river and along a ravine that veered to the left. It was lined with steep walls of rock, the path sprayed with an assortment of awkward stones and boulders. The rain and the obstacles underfoot made the going tough. Gaia’s body was sapped of most of her energy from the long, arduous day. Freya was pushing on ahead, the usual singular steel and grit. She worked at her own pace and expected others to match it.

Freya stopped, found what she was looking for. Moving to the right of the narrow gorge, Freya crawled under the arch of a rock and disappeared from view. The others followed and found themselves in a low, narrow cave. It was dry and offered good natural shelter from the wind and rain. Though it was small and shallow there was enough room to sit upright. It was also wide enough to lie down. The floor was solid rock, hard and cold, an uncomfortable bed. Despite its shortcomings the cave offered what the group needed, and was far better than facing the brutality of the night. The group needed to rest, and they had found their beds for the night. They would stay, eat, and dry out as best they could. They would take stock and prepare for the morning. It was close now. Tomorrow was the day when the journey ended.