An Echo of Royalty

6

    The morning was chilly, again, so I wore my only green sweater. Leaving camp, I walked for a couple hours into the trees. I usually went with someone so we could carry back the kill. We didn’t always get anything, but we tried to bring something back to camp, even if it was just a coyote.

    I’d always wondered why vamps don't eat animals. So many books had been written before all this happened where critters don't taste as good as us. Perhaps they taste bitter, maybe rotten to vamps? Interesting enough, we humans love animal meat. Or at least most of us do.

    Picking out a good spot to wait, I hunkered next to two trees growing side by side. A good place for me to hide, waiting for a beastie to cross my path. Please let me get a kill. Any movements I made were slow, easing to the sides to peek around me. As I studied the foliage to my right, the grass beside it jerked. I leaned up to get a better view, raising my gun. The creature stepped out behind the leafy bush. Digging its nose into the ground around a rock, a coyote came into view. 

     Speaking of which. I aimed my rifle, breathing in and out slowly. Then I pulled the trigger. It fell to the ground. 

     I stood smiling, grateful for the food. I had never been the type of person to say a prayer to God or earth for being able to shoot another creature, but I was always appreciative that something let me get food. 

     The ten steps it took to reach the coyote boosted my elation. I wrapped the rifle strap across my chest before leaning down to grab its legs. Red glistened from the coyotes nose. Hesitantly, I reached for it then rubbed the warm goo between my fingers. 

    Glancing around me, I rubbed it off on my jeans then heaved the carcass onto my shoulders. 

    As I turned to head back to camp, a sound came from the right of me. I waited, staring in the direction of where my ears placed the noise, while a prickling pulse vibrated through my body. Swallowing, I shifted my weight to set the animal down. Then, gripping my rifle, I took a step. Please be like the movies, where it’s just a rodent. Please be a bunny.

    Moving around the tree I headed to, I aimed at the other side, my eyes darting everywhere. Nothing. My breath went out fast and I lowered my gun, shaking the tingling from my limbs then wiping my now stinging eyes. Maybe a bird. Taking in deep slow breaths I leaned against the tree.

    The thud came again, behind me. Raising my rifle, I spun. The branch of the tree was a mere part of vision before I hit it, then nothing.

    Sunlight seeped underneath my eyelids, waking me. Its rays flared through the treetops in different areas than I remembered. What happened? I reached up to touch my forehead, and winced as I touched the bridge of my nose. I heard something. Then I turned, did I hit a tree? I glanced up at the tall wooden shaft protruding from the earth, never an evil thought inside it. 

    Just then a pain pounded through my head, and I pressed my hand to my forehead, crushing something almost paper like. I cringed as something sticky clung to my upper lips. Opening my mouth, I rolled my jaw into different shapes to find the tackiness on my cheeks as well.

    Gently I brushed my face. A gooey substance drew lines from nose down across my cheeks. I scratched at it, pulling off red flakey strips. Blood. "Great." I mumbled, sitting up. Rolling my shoulders, I glanced around, my purpose for being out here coming back to me.

    My gun lay on the ground off to the side of the tree. But where was my coyote? I twisted around searching for it. Gone. 

    Did I not put it over there like I thought? Standing, I braced my hands against the tree as I swayed.

    Where’d it go? I examined the forest floor further with me standing. It was nowhere to be seen. Oh my God, something took it. Why didn’t it take me? I’m bigger. More meat. What if it was a day-walker? 

    The fear came back as a heavy weight in my gut. Why did I have to put myself in such a stupid situation? I shouldn't have come alone. When have I ever come alone? Why, why, why? Breathe deep! "Okay, we can do this. We will walk back to camp. Just me, myself, and I."

     I shuffled foreword. Seeing my rifle on the ground I lunged for it then jumped up and ran in what I hoped was the right direction.

Joe’s gonna kill me.

    Tears trickled down my face, and I never stopped to catch my breath. Who knew how long I’d been gone? It could be an entire day later, even though I didn't quite believe that.

    It wasn't long before the sounds of people talking let me slow my pacing. With how I probably looked, I couldn’t run back into camp. They'd panic about me being attacked by something. Slowing, I took deep breaths, easing my heartbeat. 

    "Where have you been?" Joe’s voice was engraved in my mind. He stalked towards me with balled fists. 

    Crap. I stopped, swallowing. 

    His eyes shifted from mine to the rest of my face as he got closer. "What happened?" he asked as he reached out to me, his voice full of concern. I winced when his fingers brushed my forehead. "Sorry," he said, grimacing with me. "It looks okay, but we should get it cleaned." He paused for a second, eyes squinting. "Why is the blood so dry?" 

    Sighing, I rested my weight on one leg. Well, there's no soft way of putting it. "I ran into a branch.” I stared at his red shirt, keeping my eyes from his.

     He studied the wound. "This blood is hard and already flaking. You've been gone for seven hours. It never takes us that long to get anything, even when there are two of us. Even when you don't get something, you’re still back by ten or eleven. It's two o'clock!" 

    Why does he know how long I'd been gone? "Why does it matter what time I get back. I could have been enjoying the view of something and decided to look for a while. Are you my monitor now?"

    "Tell me what happened?" His voice came across harsh. 

    Over his shoulder I caught sight of Trina, watching from her tent.

    Looking back at Joe, I whispered. "You can't tell anyone, they'll make it out to be worse than it really is." I waited for a reply.

    "I will only tell them if it’s important! If it isn't, then they don't need to know."

    Well, that was an answer.

    I told him everything that happened from the coyote to the tree branch. He listened intently through the story, his face serious. "When I woke… the coyote was gone! There weren’t any foot prints. So I ran straight here, I didn't know what else to do." Tears welled up in my eyes again. Would he be even madder at me now?

     "Go see Trina about your head." Turning away, he left without a backwards glance. 

    I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it, not finding the words.

    I watched him, thinking of what he might do. I looked at Trina, standing sideways with her hands on her hips next to her tent opening. It's her way of showing me she's ready. I went to her, looking at the ground to hide my face from any on lookers.

    "So, I see you've hurt yourself again. At least someone around here keeps me busy. Why were you shielding your head?" she said as she rummaged through her shelves for items. The whole tent was organized in her own way. I wouldn't be able to find much in here, but she could. 

     "I don't get hurt that often. It's just, when someone gets hurt, it's a big deal to everyone." I watched as she grabbed a bowl. Pouring some water from a jug in the bowl, she dipped a rag as she came to me. 

     She cleaned the wound before examining it. "It'll heal. Good thing it won't need stitches." Grabbing something from a bin, she came back to stick butterfly tape on my forehead, a bottle of ointment in her other hand.

    I closed my eyes as she worked, enjoying the feel of her soft hands. Moving across the wound with the promise of healing. Ever since I found them, she aided me in every accident I had. Just like my mom. Like any mom, caring for her children. 

    "So what are you going to do with Joe? Are you going to continue leading him around like a puppy, or accept the situation?" She spoke as she finished her work. 

     “What?"

     "You heard me. You know he likes you. Everyone does. I know you like him too. Why don't you just get on with it already?"

       "Um, well, I don't know."

    Putting things away, she continued. "What do you mean, you don't know? You like him, he really likes you. What's so important for you to keep saying no to him and making him madder all the time?" She sat down across from me with her hands in her lap. 

    I squeezed my eyes shut. How many times did I need to repeat this with everyone here? "I almost don't know why I'm saying no anymore."

    "Does this have anything to do with you wanting to leave at some point? Whenever that happens."

     "Yes. If I say yes to him, I am either going to have to leave him, or he'll end up coming, and I will have made him abandon everyone here. I can't do that to you guys, you're the only family I know anymore. If he leaves, something could happen."

    She reached towards me and put her hand on mine, and gazed into my eyes. "Echo, something could happen to either one of you at any time. Whether he leaves with you or dies at one point, someone will stand up and take his place." She pulled her hand back . "Besides that, have you ever thought that just maybe he could help you with what you plan on doing."

    "Yeah, and I could also get him killed." I leaned back in my chair, watching her. 

    "Dear, whenever you guys go to town, you could die. You could die every time you go hunting. Walking through camp could get you killed. Still everyone does it. The more there are of you, the less likely for you to get hurt."

     "I still don't know if I'm worth him joining me in battle."

    "Sweetheart, he may leave with you whether you guys are together or not. If he has enough feelings for you, he will. Look at how he follows you around here already." She turned away to stick things back on her shelf.

    Catching the last part of what she said, I stared at her back. "What do you mean?"

    "Which part hun?"

     "You just said he follows me around."

     "That's because he does. He watches you at your tree, always glancing at you to make sure your still there. If you go out of his visual range, he searches for you. Ever wonder why he's the first to spot when you come back to camp?" she said, picking up scattered clothing from different spots in the tent, before turning to me with full arms. "Alright my dear, it's time for me to go do my wash. It's also time for you to go find something else to do." She led me out of the tent, to stand alone staring at the ground. 

     Did he really keep track of me like that? He wasn't the first one I saw, was he?

    Suddenly, I looked up, searching for any eyes that could be staring at me. There he was, standing on the opposite side of the table from me, eyes on me.

    Emily stood next to him talking animated while James sat listening.

    Both of them followed his gaze to me. Emily rolled her eyes and James grinned. Nothing about there face drew my eyes to them like his blue eyes. Finally, he turned back to Emily, releasing my gaze. 

     You need to relax. Going back to my tent, determined not to dwell on the matter, I plopped onto my cot. Reaching underneath I grabbed my book and turned to where I last left off. 

    The book couldn’t hold my attention long. His eyes, though not in front of me now, still pulled at me. Trailing behind me like a dog. Grrr. I rolled over and stared at the tan tarp fabric above me. Reaching up, I brushed it, my fingers sliding across the bumps. Letting my hand drop to my face, I rested my forearm across my eyes. Stickiness pulled at the peach fuzz, touching my forehead. Ugh. Gross.

     Leaning up, I grabbed the small hand mirror off of the dresser, peering at my reflection. Blood crustations still clung to my face with scratch marks separating them. 

     I need to get cleaned up. Rounding up my toiletries and a new set of clothes, I bundled it under my arm and headed to the pond.