Posted by hisdinner on April 16, 2005 at 08:23:01:
The air lay heavy as if frozen, holding a brief moment in time within its grasp. Ron, his veins bulging through his neck, his face a dark crimson, raged at Herbert as the gun smoke cleared. "She fucking better be dead, that whore killed Gob!" And true enough, Gob lay in a dull garnet pool of his own blood, his hands resting limp at his sides, coated with red, palms curved into Cs as if they were still pressed against the gash at his throat. Gob's mouth was open and his eyes were dull. He tilted forward, his face coming to rest on the blood-soaked ground. Ron crouched down, smacking his friend. “You stupid fuck!” Ron clenched his face, fighting his desire to drop his arm and curl into a fetal position. His anger overcame that urge, and Ron stepped closer to Cyndi, who lay in Herbert’s arms.
The world had gone all gray and red and darker, voices shouting but they were muffled, indistinct as fog. Cyndi felt like she was sinking, falling deep into a chasm, lost. Sisters? She was singing in her dream, but no sound escaped her lips. Herbert? Love? She went on spinning, sinking, the fall was endless. She couldn't open her eyes, what was this place?
Herbert held her tight, pushing the hair from her face, calling her, “Cyndi-- No, no Cyndi, not like this, it can’t be like this.” She'd thrown her body against his, that blast, deafening, so close, she collapsed to the ground like a discarded doll. He kissed her, the smell of her hair so sweet, the acrid stench of gunpowder overwhelming, he choked back tears as he whispered in her ears, “It’s ok, I’ll make it right Cyndi, please don’t leave me."
“She dead?” Ron called out, “Step away. I want to see her breathe.”
She lay so heavy in his arms, so still. Herbert lifted his head slowly to stare into Ron’s eyes, “No.”
“Step away you fuck, or I kill you too.”
Herbert reached up so fast, Ron had no time to respond. He grabbed the barrel of the gun and pulled it into him, “You think you can hurt me anymore?!”
They both looked down. Her skin was ashy, and an ugly bullet wound was leaking blood; it streamed from high on her chest. Ron hated her. Herbert felt Ron’s body tense. He pulled hard, forcing Ron to the ground, the gun falling to the side. Herbert strained to reach it as Ron pulled himself up and lunged for the fallen weapon. Herbert got there first. He leveled the gun and stared at Ron. “Now you pick up her feet and help me get her to the river.”
“My friend…”
“Is dead. Do you want to join him?”
Lifting Cyndi gently, Herbert saw her take a breath. There was hope and that would have to sustain him as they hurried to the water. Herbert hardly turned as Ron ran off.
Cyndi swam in and out of consciousness, sometimes knowing she had the bullet deep inside her. It all made so much sense to her now, she was haven and all she had to do was sing the bullet out, and everything would heal. Yes. Not good to harbor that hot poisonous metal, sing it out. Her lips fought to form the words, her eyelids fluttered open for a moment. Herbert. There, his body warm, shielding hers, supporting her. And then the evil wad of metal shifted, tore a little deeper and she saw all the other evil creatures that had hurt her. She was deep down in that well, and men with sharp sticks poked and lashed and kicked at her. Sing it out! Cyndi knew it, but the effort was too much. She looked up from the bottom of that well. She had so far to go, to sing that bullet out. Herbert shook as he held her and the bullet burned.
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Diane's eyes narrowed at the sound of the shot and she smiled at Frank. "It has to be Michael—I swear I can smell that man." She strode out of Frank's tent and into the clearing. Diane perked up her ears and eyes like the huntress of legend, every nerve in her body quivered with remembered bliss—she had to find that man.
"We're going to find them. Frank, Donald, come on. I don't have time to waste on your sniveling bride now. Let's find out what that shot was all about." Diane followed the signs she knew past skittering animals and birds. She headed with an unerring sense toward the river and the smell of gunpowder wafting through the woods.
Frank and Donald grabbed up their arms, disused rifles, precious bullets, arrows, bows, even a sling shot. If they were coming up against a hunter, they wanted the balance of power tipped to their side. Donald's face was already sheened with fear-sweat when they were a half-mile into the woods. What was so important about getting this girl back, anyway? She was just another meal, far as he was concerned. Get that Emily back, now she was a juicy one, but that Cyndi? Not worth the trouble, if you asked him, besides, if a hunter wanted her too, they had a battle on their hands. More than a battle—a fucking last stand! And Donald just couldn't work up the feeling for all this, he'd lost the taste for it. Yeah, she'd killed Sarney, but that old guy was batshit; he was crazy as a loon, why—
Frank's hand slammed into Donald's chest, stopping his forward progress through the trees. Franks motioned—he had spotted something beyond the thick stand of young aspen just in front of them. Voices, indistinct. Donald crept to Frank's side. Women!
Well, girls, anyway, a whole pack of them! Donald was confused, this couldn't be the Haven they talked about, could it? He'd always heard that there were sentries, secret pitfalls, traps to keep men out. He could see none here, just a bunch of little girls and a couple older ones, a pair of cows, a—
Frank sank to his knees, and Donald jumped back, startled. A fist-sized rock rolled away from Frank, and a dark red blot rose through the hair at the base of Frank's skull. Donald twisted in all directions, looking for who had thrown that rock. The girls in the clearing went about their business unaware. Donald knelt, his ear to Frank's chest. He heard a slow thump, shallow breathing. Fine. Donald wanted out of here! He didn't care what that Haven bitch-queen demanded, he was taking his brother and heading back to camp. Hell with all of them, he had his woman, even if she did calve out the wrong kind. Donald grabbed Frank under the armpits and began dragging him back toward their camp.
Above Frank, Megan let her arm drop. She relaxed her grip on the rock in her hand and slipped it into the sling on her belt. She felt enormously exhilarated; she wanted to whoop and yell to the others, "I just drove off some men! Bagged one, too!" Megan had been practicing each day since she saw her Haven torn apart. Her jubiliation faded; now she was more concerned with the figure she saw entering their tiny compound. It was Diane! And already the youngest girls had flocked to her. "Evil bitch," Megan whispered.
Jamie held Frannie's infant, feeding it again. "The poor thing never seems to get her fill," she murmured, looking up to empty space in front of her where the customary ring of girls had suddenly cleared. They loved to watch the baby—where had they gone? Jamie laid the baby to nap in her makeshift cradle and emerged from the mouth of the cave to see most of the younger girls thronging a tall, regal figure who seemed intent on breaking free of them. Diane? Jamie's stomach clenched. What was she doing here?
Diane pulled her sleeves free of the sticky hands that sought to grasp her, from the little girls who sought her attention, from the lost ones who tried to make her stop and acknowledge them. "Mother Diane! It's me, Bobbie! Mother Diane, look it's us, you found us again, take us home with you!"
The chorus chirped at her, even though Diane's _expression grew ever more surly, and she had yet to say a word in greeting, not even the customary ones. Some of the little ones broke away, frightened. The Elder forged through the loosening circle of girls, intent on reaching the far side of the clearing and the path to the river ahead. Each of her steps was impeded by swarming, irritating girls. Diane stopped suddenly and twisted her body about, arms outstretched like battering rams, knocking the small girls to the ground and off of her.
Jamie ran to a pair of weeping little girls and helped them up. "Diane, in the name of all that's---what are you doing? Stop it! You're hurting them!"
Diane sneered at Jamie, shook off her question; it was just another impediment, couldn't these idiot cattle see she had business? She demanded, "Did you hear the gunshot, the sound of hunters? Where did it come from? Show me the way!"
Jamie shook her head. This was new sanctuary. This time, Diane would be the banished one. Jamie turned away from her and began to whisper soothing words to the little girls.
The little ones had scrambled away from Diane and now stood clinging to Jamie's tunic, trying to hide behind her while they peered at the monster in their midst. Their eyes were big and uncomprehending. Several whimpered and compared the hurts she'd given them, and not one held her arms up to the Elder as she brushed past. Jamie watched Diane stride toward the riverbank. A whirring filled the air and a rock struck Diane in the center of her back. The little ones were facing Jamie, they didn't see. Tall grass enveloped the woman. "Good riddance," Jamie whispered.
High in the tree, Megan whispered a forgiveness chant, the sling still clenched tight in her hands. She clambered down the tree and ran to help Jamie with the girls.
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Wally grinned and gunned his truck over another ridge; this surely had to be the spot. He was close, he could almost smell that evil bastard's aftershave, what a goat. Michael, Wally thought, I hope you remembered to brush your teeth today. "Yo, Trevor!" Wally yelled at the pale greenish man sitting next to him. "This look familiar?"
Trevor forced himself to sit up. These Hunters and their driving, it was going to be the death of him, but he needed this episode. Trevor nodded. He squinted at the brush. "What's that over there, Wally?"
Wally's face lit up in feral triumph. "Gotta think that would be lunch!" He screeched the truck to a halt and Trevor scrambled out the back. "Set up! Set up! Set up!" Trevor quavered as he slid limply out of the towering truck.
Wally grabbed his favorite rifle and tore across the clearing. Kneeling, wincing in pain, the regal woman cursed beneath her breath, “They will all pay.”
“Hello, my dear”, Wally sneered. He prodded the woman with his gun.
Diane tried, but failed to get her feet beneath her. Each breath hurt, had that rock cracked her ribs? Diane would have Michael wipe those idiotic girls from the face of this earth. They would pay so dearly. Yes. She frowned fury at this insubordinate man. "Who are you?" And where was Michael. Honestly, when the Council heard of this--
“Just a happy Hunter." Wally grabbed her hair and held her close, their mouths barely touching, his other hand reaching out and stroking her, “Very nice.”
“I am Diane, an Elder, protected by the C—"
He forced his mouth on hers, kissing her hard savoring the taste of forbidden fruit.
Pulling back so that their mouths still touched, “You are an injured animal, and I am here to put you out of your misery.” He pulled her back for the world to see.
Trevor arrived, huffing and puffing from the run, he lifted his camera in time to catch the glare of Wally’s knife. He called to Wally, “She’s an Elder!”
Wally's grin widened. A ratings coups for sure. He let Diane admire the blade before he slashed right through her clothes.
Dianne’s eyes widened as the blade sliced her belly open. Wally peered back into the camera, “They’re all meat, elevate one and where do we go from there?”
He looked back at Diane. Her blood coated his hand; he was surprised to see a tear running down her cheek. She tried to speak but was unable to. This snobby piece actually seemed surprised that she would bleed, just like the ones she raised as meat. Wally chuckled.
He broke off the chain Diane wore as Trevor zoomed in for a close up. Wally held a burnished medallion up in the light. It twisted playfully, casting slashes of glare across Diane's dimming eyes. She squinted and released a quiet moan. The symbol of Haven Home cast its reflection on her face as if that mark were branded into her skin.
"Isn't she a fine one, folks?" Wally used the flat of his knifeblade to jiggle and weigh one of Diane's breasts. She whimpered, trying to twist away as her life poured out of her body. The muscles in Wally's arms were jumping. These woods women are meaty, alright! Wally grinned at the camera.
Hoisting her up, he heard her last exhale as she landed on his shoulder. “Just the beginning," he informed the camera. He hung her upside down in the back of his truck, and Trevor came to understand the need for the grating as he watched her blood flow through the truck and down to decorate the grass. Close by, they heard the rumbling of another large truck.
"Fuck me, it's Michael, come on, pack up! Scramble, asshole! He's getting the jump on us!"
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Michael careened around the spindly pines and back onto the path close by the riverbank. His body was thrumming with the fire of the hunt, and Marion's eyes echoed his excitement. Her hand squeezed his thigh as he slewed the truck around the last curve and into the narrow path that ran along the riverbed. Seconds now, he knew it.
"There!" Carl shouted from his perch behind them. His head was stuck out the window, a camera collecting bugs as he shot. He pounded on the back of Michael's seat. "Stop the truck, that's them, it's gotta be!"
Herbert knelt by the stream next to Cyndi, a cloth dripping water onto her wound. A dead man lay sprawled, ass up in a brown-red pool of blood, his throat slit. Michael whistled. "Good fucking eyes, Carl! You got a future in this line o' work."
Michael's crew scrambled from the truck, Marion close beside her Hunter. He caught her around the waist and surprised her with a fierce kiss, clenching her tight, then hollering over her head, "This is it, my runaway friends! This is Into the Wild, I am Michael Boardman, and your asses are MINE." Marion kissed his cheek as Michael released his grip on her and stalked forward, shaking his head. Too easy, way too easy, where was the drama in that?
Herbert scowled, didn't move from Cyndi's side. He leaned forward, out and over her, shielding her body from Michael's view. Michael aimed a square kick to Herbert's chest and knocked him backwards, knocked the breath out of him, too. Michael frowned when he noticed Cyndi's wound. He squatted down to assess the damages she'd incurred.
"Christ, this is a lousy shot. Wally must be close by, hm? Really bad form. Yeah, Well, this honey's gonna be hurting from much worse, soon enough." Michael chuckled, eying Herbert as he struggled to breathe again. "Herbert, my man? You're gonna preside over your lady-love's own barbecue, what do you think of that?"
She was swimming up, the song was working. Tremendous pain as she felt herself break the surface, the well filled with hurt, with bullets, sing them out—blinking, moaning, trying so hard to focus on that healing chant. Opening her eyes. Alone? Herbert. Find him! Cyndi felt the cold ground beneath her. Felt the metal lodged so deep. She sobbed.
Herbert was tired of this game. He got his breath back, and hurried to Cyndi. He saw her eyes growing hazy, saw the tears she fought to contain. So strong, yes, she has to be. She has to be, damn it! He reached behind him and brought forth the gun. Michael stuck his finger into Cyndi’s wound, laughing as she cried out. Herbert squared his aim and felt the world go quiet around him. He knew he squeezed down on the trigger, but he never heard the report, never remembered moving his arms. His eyes narrowed as he watched the cameraman’s chest explode, as he watched the woman grabbed her belly, and as Michael’s protests were silenced as a bullet tore through his shoulder. Was he screaming at them? He didn't know. No time to waste on them, go back to her!
Michael turned and watched Carl collapse to the ground. Marion stared at him, her hands frantically trying to stop the blood flowing from her abdomen. She called to him but Michael stood frozen--the pain in his shoulder was excruciating. He watched the Clerk grab the injured meatgirl and carry her off, unable to stop any of the unfolding events. Hit! He was shot, dammit! The pain was like nothing Michael had ever felt. Marion's voice finally broke through the madness. “Michael, please help me!”
“I’m bleeding, Marion!” he screamed back. A trickle of blood ran down from the blackened streak across the top of his shoulder
Marion stared at him, the bullet had grazed his shoulder, yet here she could feel her life slipping. She willed herself up, shaky but determined to not die like a common piece of meat. Suddenly hands grabbed her neck and she was hoisted onto her toes.
“Trevor! Get a shot of this, another one with the funky medallion! One more for a hat trick!!” Wally admired the body on this one, a little thinner than the last haughty bitch. He grabbed her twat and stuck his finger in, pulling her across his shoulders, “Too bad Mikey, looks like you’re out of this one.”
Michael hated being called Mikey, “The woman is mine, Wally.” He winced as his abraded skin oozed blood. He clutched at his shoulder, stumbled, dizzy. Nobody shoots a fucking Hunter, dammit! He shook his head to clear it, goddam Wally had a camera here and that dipshit Trevor!
“Finders keepers Mikey-- besides, gives me a matching set. Gonna roast two elders tonight on live TV!”
Marion called out, “Michael, do something!” She squirmed on Wally's shoulder.
“Who the hell does she think she is eh, Mikey?” He reached up and smacked her face, “Now shut up and die!” He carried her over to the truck and hung her next to Diane’s body. Marion screamed when her body touched the lifeless corpse.
Michael watched, helpless as Marion thrashed and twisted frantically. Finally he saw the hate and betrayal in her eyes, just as Wally closed the door. Shoulder hurt like shit! And the screaming woman didn't help much, either. Still. That one had been a hell of a ride, alright. He stared at that door until Wally’s boot hit his shoulder and brought him back to his searing reality, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“Ooh-- I’m sorry did that hurt?”
“You prick.”
Walter knelt down, no eye to eye, “Game over for you, Mikey. Now where are our little runaways?”
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“It’s alright, Herbert, if I die, as long as I’m with you.” Cyndi whispered. She coughed and barely stirred in his arms. She'd been dreaming, she was so close, in her dream, the words would save her, get the poison out, save everything, but--
“You’re not dying Cyndi’, he pleaded with her.
“I love you Herbert.” So hard to remember, the pain was so bad when she woke. Her skin was hot and cold, she trembled and caught that spiral down again. Tumbling, headlong into darkness. Sing the song! Cyndi summoned every thing inside her to find the words to drive that dark thing out. Herbert's face, the little ones. Find something soft and sweet. Cyndi whimpered as Herbert carried her.
Herbert choked back tears, plodding onward towards… something. Anything. He had to find a way to save her, if only he could stop for one minute, just to clear his thoughts, to think!
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The girls fled as Hunters and scores of would -be Hunters descended on their makeshift village. Men throughout the City had all been watching the television. All around the City, workers dared the most severe work penalties as they abandoned Clerk jobs and streamed into the forest. Into the wild! Everyone lusted for a little taste—to feel a girl kicking, squealing in your own grip? It was worth a Council reprimand, at least! The desire to capture the runaways had created a feeding frenzy that now fell upon Jamie’s hapless tribe. She clutched the baby tight in her arms, looking for Megan as she ran. Girls were captured and trussed all around, they called for her, but she had to find Megan!
Within the maelstrom Emily desperately searched for Frannie’s baby. She had promised to take care of her. Around her girls shrieked and cried as they were trussed and carried away. Right in front of her a Hunter had pushed Bobbie across a boulder. Emily watched as the girl's eyes opened wide as she was anally raped. “Emily, please!” Bobbie shrieked, as Emily stood transfixed. So much loss, so soon, so hard. Emily shook herself, finally resolved to fight. She could hit him with a rock— until hands grabbed around her legs and brought her to the ground, felling her like a tree.
“Frank’s ok, now’s time to bring you home.” She smelled him before she saw his face.
“Donald no! The girl--the baby!”
He slung Emily over his shoulder. “Hush now there, girl. Nothing you can do. 'Sides-- Frank’s still hurtin’ and the only thing gonna fix that is some girl soup.”
He rubbed his hand around her rump, and squeezed one cheek.
“Damn I missed ya, girl.”
She tried to struggle but his grip was too tight and it only seemed to amuse him, “Donald! Let me go! Donald!!!”
Nobody even noticed the lanky giant walking off with the kicking screaming girl. The tiny tribe was overrun. Girls howled from their bonds, everywhere. Megan stood high in her treetop perch and searched for Jamie and the baby. Were they safe? Caught? Too many men, so much confusion, girls screaming, and she couldn't spot them anywhere. Megan called out, “Jamie!” when a rope encircled her neck and she was pulled hard to the ground from her lookout in the trees and dragged across the dirt. The fall had stunned her. Megan was limp and defenseless as the hunter pushed her into a net filled with screaming girls. She knew Jamie would never hear her. The Hunter secured the net, dragged them to the waiting van and then the doors closed leaving them all to weep in the darkness. Megan wanted to curl into a ball and rock. She started humming to the little ones, anyway. "Shhh, shh, don't weep, Protectors come, Relax and sleep, wake in your soft home.." Megan's face was streaked with tears as she sang sweet soothing lies. She drew in a shaky breath. It was time for them.
Across the clearing at the edge of the woods, Jamie tried to raise her voice above the insanity, “Megan!” This was the spot they'd picked, wasn't it? They hadn't had time to work out safe places, new hiding spots. The men! Jamie hadn't known the world could be so full of them. If she stayed, she would be caught. It was hopeless, even the baby was louder than her. Jamie murmured a protector appeal and went in search of the cow. She squeezed back tears. They had no Protectors now. Jamie found the cow, languid and grazing, oblivious to the madness. She held the fussing baby close and led the cow into the woods. "Please Megan—be safe."
Just around the bend in the path, a sleek businessman waited for her. He was unarmed.
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The sun was setting painting the sky in magnificent orange and red hues. Herbert lay her down by a small lake, gently pushing the hair from her face. Everything was infused with lovely red, the dappled surface of the lake, even Cyndi's face. Not so pale now, Herbert thought. She was awake, talking. All so good. Good signs. Good. He couldn't take his eyes off her.
“It’s cold, Herbert.” She shivered, spoke so softly, his golden prize.
It was. So he removed his shirt and covered her in it.
“No Herbert, but then you’ll have nothing.” She protested but couldn't find strength to push the shirt away. He saw her try to raise her hand, and fail. He stroked her hair again.
“Shh.” What did it matter, without her, there was nothing he wanted.
“The sky is beautiful.” He felt her reach out and touch his face. Straining with the effort. He looked down, she was smiling. Herbert took her in his arms, tried to be her blanket. He began to weep. She stroked his hair and quietly, with all the strength she had left, she sang to him. Her lips brushed his ear. "Sweet songs now, no tears, no sorrow, Hold me tight until tomorrow. Always hold my love inside you. Our love will see us through."
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“Please Donald, don’t do this!’ Tears streamed down her eyes as she begged him.
He seemed oblivious to her as she sat on the table. He had cleaned her inside and out, humming the whole time. Now she watched as he dropped tubers and herbs into the water simmering in the pot.
“Donald, listen to me!” she screeched.
He came back and smiled at her, holding her head down, “Emily, listen to yourself, screaming like that. You girls are so silly. You protest and scream,” she felt the razor shear her hair, “Ask yourself Emily, why do you sit here then?”
She looked up at him, seeing her precious hair in his grasp, sniffling.
“Now open wide.”
And she did, resigned to take the apple deep in her mouth. He lifted her up and lay her in the water, gently.
Emily's hands and feet were bound as she tried to stay above the water. Her eyes grew misty from the steam, yet she could see Donald holding her hair and stroking it against his cheek. The apple in her mouth made it impossible to say anything, and she could smell herself cooking.
“Won’t be long, brother!” Donald called out to his brother, “She’s a juicy little bitch, and let me tell ya, I ain’t felt nothing more tender!” He ladled the stock over her head, she whimpered behind the obstruction. “Shh Emily, you cook up nice for Frank, that’s my girl.”
The heat was overwhelming, almost inviting. Her eyes felt heavy and she was so very very tired.
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Cyndi’s breath grew ragged as the darkness overtook them. Herbert held her to his chest and rocked her tenderly. A voice cut through the blackness and called out to Herbert.
“Well you certainly gave us a good show, my boy.”
He scrambled for his gun.
“No more violence Herbert, you’ve been through enough.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Councilman Roberts. Ah, you know who I am?”
“Everyone knows who the Councilmen are.” Herbert hated this intrusion. He wanted nothing to disturb his sleeping girl. But what was he doing here, this City official? They were the very men who ran the city, made the laws, created the punishments. But wait!
“Yes. Well Clerk Noodleman, you have impressed us.”
“Save her, please. Kill me, I don’t care, but save her.” He begged, feeling his eyes begin to well up again.
“No one wants to kill you, Herbert. In fact you have earned yourself a special place amongst the Council. No one has ever come this far, done so much… entertained so many.”
Herbert was confused, “I don’t understand.”
“We must keep the masses entertained. How else can we attain such a high level of production?”
“What are you producing?” Herbert felt Cyndi shudder against him and he drew tighter around her.
“Not now, Herbert. Just know that the game always changes, and we must stay ahead of it. You have inspired many, and you have changed the game.”
His exhaustion overtook him, “Please, Councilman, what do you want of me?!”
“Start your tribe. Challenge the Hunters. Offer sanctuary to others like you. That’s all.”
Herbert felt elated, “So you will save Cyndi?”
“Believe it or not, I care for these creatures as well. I’ve kept a woman for over two decades, breaks the rules I know.” He stepped forward to gaze at Cyndi, “This one was special, I know, but there is nothing I can do. Be with her, finish what you started. When you are ready." Councilman Roberts called out to the darkness, “You can come out now.”
From the bushes Jamie stepped out, the baby sleeping in her arms, “She is yours, her and the child. We picked her especially for you.” Jamie stared at Cyndi and gasped, stricken.
Herbert stood defiant, “You expect me to just take her?! Just to leave my love and take another?!”
Councilman Roberts became stern, “I expect you to play the game, Herbert.”
Cyndi called out, “Herbert--” The river almost swallowed her voice whole.
“Go to her.” With that, the Councilman retreated to the shadows.
“Cyndi, I’m here.” Herbert knelt and drew her close again. He cradled her like a child.
“I heard it all my love. They want you to create the Lost." She blinked back tears, stifled a cough. "Finish our dream."
“Not without you Cyndi. No.” His eyes betrayed his bravado.
She reached up to touch his hand, coughing. He tried to ignore the blood that emerged.
“I will never stop loving you, Herbert. Never stop being proud. Carry me in your heart, and I won't die. I'll always be with you. Always—be yours.”
“No Cyndi, don’t leave me!”
“I will never leave you. No goodbyes. It's..just for now.. but I will always be with you.” Her voice trailed off.
Herbert held Cyndi tight in his arms, and he felt her life leave her, passing right through him. There were no words left, only a scream from deep inside him that could no longer be contained.
Time passed. Herbert’s sobbing faded to eerie silence until Jamie came close to touch his shoulder. “We should return her to the earth. She would have wanted that.”
Herbert nodded in agreement. He kissed Cyndi's forehead, brushed back her hair.
Councilman Roberts approached and stopped a few respectful feet from Herbert and his sweet, lost girl. “I have called off the Hunters. I wish you the best, whether you believe it or not.”
Herbert did not acknowledge the Councilman. He sat, frozen in one last embrace. He only turned when he heard the baby squirm and fuss.
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The fire was warm but Herbert’s soul was frozen, and no flame could touch that, he would not allow it. He watched Jamie milk the cow and feed the babe. They had buried Cyndi with a stone marker no one else would recognize, so that she would be in peace. He could hear her admonish him for his sullenness. She would have found a way to make him smile. Herbert didn't think he'd ever smile again.
“In the morning we will find a cave. Not a camp, a cave will give us greater protection.”
“I agree.” Jamie did.
“The baby, does she have a name?”
“No. I don’t believe she does.”
He took a breath. “Can we call her Cyndi?”
Jamie smiled, “I like that.”
The fire crackled as if it agreed, and Jamie took a branch and stirred it as sparks swirled into the night sky.