The Half Mutt Mate

Chapter 5

We walked quickly and in silence, for the most part. You must keep quietly to the shadows to avoid being seen, after all. For hours we trudged along; Kayden in front, me behind, Ella rounding off the back. On my suggestion we walked close to the highway, where the dim light of the streetlamps stopped us from tripping over too much in the dark, and we only stopped to take a break about an hour before midnight. 

It was Kayden who first suggested it, sticking his hand out to the side to signal that we stop. He whispered hurriedly into the night, saying that he could see an empty patch of grass just a few metres in front of him, that it would be a good place to stop for a while. We agreed, and joined him in the grass.

It felt good to be near people again, even if I could still feel the pain of what I'd lost tugging at me. Ella was kind and quiet; she had always been like that, though she was a spitfire if you crossed her. She sat snuggled up next to Kayden as we talked, softly, about our plans for the night.

I watched them carefully, noticing the smile on Ella's face when she looked at Kayden and the trust that was obvious in his eyes. I always knew they had a thing for each other -- it was obvious, really -- but they were suddenly a lot more comfortable with showing it. I wondered if the couple were official now.

When we stood, the cramps in my legs were suddenly a lot worse. I rubbed the sore muscles a little and took a sip of water from the canteen that Ella offered me before standing straight. With a sigh, I followed Kayden out of the grassy patch and on though the woods, smiling my thanks to Ella.

On we walked, filling the lonely hours with our footsteps. Softly, softly, softly, we moved through the woods.

The night was cold and still. No wind blew against my skin -- instead it was stiflingly silent, as though the wind was holding its breath. The forest moved quietly, only the soft sound of animals scurrying about could be heard, with the occasional hoot of an owl. Every now and then a car would drive by, the noise disturbing the eerie quiet of our walk. The head lights would illuminate the trees and shards of light would catch and reflect on the eyes of nocturnal forest creatures, reminding us we were not alone. 

My legs felt like limp spaghetti beneath me and my eyes were drooping. I struggled to walk in a straight line, to keep my feet going in the same direction, but soon I was swaying as we moved forwards. I was so tired, so very, very tired. I knew that if we stopped again -- even for a moment -- I would not be able to get back up, so when Kayden put his hand out again I said no. The night was too long, and I had barely rested since finding my friends. 

Slowly, slowly, slowly, we walked.

My feet stumbled into footsteps, my heart fell into a sluggish pace. Eventually, steadily, the sun came creeping over the mountains again. I didn't notice as it rose, so focused was I on keeping myself steady. When we did stop, with Kayden's hand outstretched and Ella walking just as slow as me, I collapsed by the bush Kayden had picked, sighing in relief. I didn't bother looking for food or even getting comfortable, I just slept.

***

We settled into a routine after that. We slept in the day, waking up an hour before sunset to gather food and talk a bit, and then we walked through the night. As daylight grew closer we found ourselves walking for longer and longer, with barely an hour to rest. Once we had covered the necessary miles, we found shelter, prayed it didn't rain, and slept. 

I liked being near Kayden and Ella. Our dynamic had changed for sure -- we were no longer the carefree little kids we had been, we had bigger problems to deal with -- but we still laughed and joked around together. I could trust them, and we had each other's backs.

 Every morning, before we slept, Ella and I would go off to find water -- either from a stream near us or by setting out containers to collect dew and rain overnight. We talked often, those morning, huddled together for warmth, about nearly everything. We told inside jokes and teased each other, and we talked about how hard it was to be on the run. Sometimes, very rarely, Ella would ask me a question I couldn't answer.

"Not yet," I would say, and she wouldn't reply. I knew that one day she would run out of patience, that she would want to know what happened and exactly how much danger I was putting them in just by staying with them, but that day didn't come. 

By the time we returned Kayden would always have the shelter set up. As it got colder we took to using a blue waterproof sheet attached at angle to a tree to keep off the rain, which Kayden was in charge of tying down because he was the best at tying knots. Apparently he was also the one who thought of bringing it with him when he and Ella were packing their bags. The shelter made us more visible while we slept, but it was better than freezing to death in the rain so we had to make the sacrifice.

We tried not to talk too much in the day as we wanted to sleep as much as possible in the limited time we had. However, at night it was a different story.   As we walked along, night after night, towards the Eastern Mountains, we gained confidence in our ability not to be heard. We talked hurriedly, in quick whispers, about as much as we could. It helped keep us awake and alert, and I'm pretty sure it prevented many accidents as it forced us to pay more attention to our surroundings. 

The weeks dragged on and winter approached, bringing with it the biting cold. We were still weeks away from the mountains, but there was no way we would be able to get there in the cold. It was late one night, as we were worriedly talking about this as we walked, that I felt a chill run down my spine. I sped up and quickly told the others what I had felt, keeping my voice as low as possible.

"I think we're being followed."