Fit for Life

[Kulindahr]

Don't worry, it will get dull eventually.

 

[Kulindahr]

Views​

Dawn came, and with it a warm breeze from the east. Rigel opened his yes and groaned inwardly. He hadn’t slept a single hour straight; every little sound had brought him awake.

Nor was he the only one: Chen had stayed up the rest of the night as well. He’d been more productive, though; first he’d taken limbs down to plug the gap in the gr’venstut fence, then finished a new boar spear to replace the broken one. After he’d dropped that off with Tanner on watch, he’d disappeared from Rigel’s sight.

Now he returned, squatting beside Rigel. “Couldn’t sleep either, lord dude?” Chen asked.

“Yeah. At least you did something useful.” Rigel sat up and stretched. “All I’ve got is an aching back.”

Chen smiled. “I’ve got something to help your mood. Come on.” He led the way to the east end of the camp. There he showed Rigel a dead tree with an X scratched on it with charcoal – and three straight sticks with their tips embedded in the wood. He left Rigel to inspect it, and walked off a ways. When Rigel turned, Chen was waiting.

“It’s not the best”, Chen said of the bow he held. “I don’t know if the wood is right. The deer hide cord isn’t great. We need to tan stuff, but we can’t while we’re on the move. I think intestines would make a better cord, but I’m not sure. But it works.
“The hard part is the arrows – unless they’re really straight, they’re worthless. I made eighteen. Three were straight enough to use.
“I feel like an idiot – I should have done this when we got here. If we could have shot at those beasts when they were farther away–“

“Sure”, Rigel interrupted. “Then there wouldn’t have been a fence. That second one would have had you if not for the fence.
“Chen, look at me: it isn’t your fault.”

“Like hell it isn’t! I left my post!”

“So what do you want me to do – tie you to a tree and have Austin whip you? That would make a lot of sense, huh?”

Chen’s giggle was a bit hysterical. “I know what Austin would want to whip me with.”

Rigel smiled. The humor was a cover for Chen’s feelings of guilt, he knew. He was afraid he was going to regret it later, but he made a decision. “Chen, how fast can you travel alone?”

Chen blinked at the sudden change in topic. “I – four or five times as fast as with the group. What....?”

“Ocean said there’s water. But we’re not on that route any longer. We need it, though; Antonio is going to be drinking half a day’s worth for the whole group every day.”

“You want me to find that water.” Chen stared at the bow in his hand. “What if there are more of those gr’venstut out there? This isn’t much of a weapon.”

“I know. Just – think about it.”

Chen gave his answer after they’d all eaten, and Tanner and Ryan had hoisted the stretcher with Antonio on it. Rigel thanked him, and kept looking back over his shoulder for the next two hours, watching that tree-dappled outcrop. He’d just about given up when he saw two figures jog down the slope and head out on a diverging course from theirs. If there’s anyone out there to hear, he prayed, keep them safe.


If a day spent moving as fast as they could manage without wearing themselves out, carrying a stretcher with a friend who was dying unless help was found in time, knowing that one of your own people could save him if they could only find what she needed, worrying about the decision to send two valuable members of the group off on their own, could be called boring, then Rigel had a boring day: he kept looking ahead, but the mountains never seemed to get closer; he kept trying to figure out what he should be doing differently, but no ideas came – and the land they were crossing all looked the same, and kept the same gentle uphill slope.

When dinnertime came, Rigel called a halt. Devon and Dmitri came to him. “We’re not stopping”, they told him. “All the girls agree – if we can still move, we keep going. For Antonio.”

All the girls. Rigel had to give them credit; if the girls were going to keep moving, none of the guys would admit to any idea of stopping. He though it over anyway.

“All right. We stop an hour before sunset, though. The only protection we’ll have out here is a fire.” And where, he wondered, will we get any wood?

So dinner was cold. Rigel made everyone spend ten minutes stretching before he let them move again: a cramp or pulled muscle was something they couldn’t afford.

They’d been on the move for nearly an hour when Casey, on the move as their scout, came back at full race pace. He looped past Rigel and slowed to come back and walk beside him.

“Rigel – you have – to see”, he panted, “the place – I found”.

Rigel laughed. “Okay – catch your breath first. So – is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

Casey punched him playfully. “It’s bigger than – a breadbox.”

They walked together in silence – well, except for Casey’s breathing, which steadied out rapidly – for a minute. Casey broke the silence. “Rigel, did you know that running naked is fun?”

Rigel laughed in spite of himself. “Is that your great discovery? You want me to come watch you running naked?”

“I’d like Mel to”, the young runner replied. “No, the discovery” – he started to point, but turned back to Rigel. “We should turn now! Go past that clump of bushes toward the crooked peak!”

“Spill it – why do we turn?”

“It’s like a road! Smooth, solid, and going toward the mountains – lots easier!”

Rigel understood Casey’s enthusiasm “Austin – go tell the front we’re turning. Casey – go lead ‘em.”

“Yes, sir!” Casey was off like a bat. It turned into a race between him and Austin, but Austin had lived on the streets too much to have endurance: he took the lead early, but died before halfway.

The path was everything Casey had said. It wasn’t, though, a path, something Ryan made certain to tell him right after they turned onto it.

“I know”, Rigel responded. “And if we hear any thunder or see rain ahead, we get out. But right now, this is a smooth path and we can move faster and safer.” Ryan looked unhappy, and left, to go ahead and listen, he said.

One eye on the sun, Rigel knew he should be calling a halt. But there hadn’t been anything resembling shelter; the closest had been an overhanging bank that might have had room enough for four of them. He was hoping desperately for something more, pushing back the time he’d planned to call a halt.

Sometimes hopes are even rewarded. He hadn’t heard from Casey for a while, and was growing worried. They rounded a bend, though, and suddenly all worries vanished: ahead was a big pile of logs and sticks slammed against a stump in the riverbed. In front of the pile was Casey, hard at work with Oran’s fire-starting rig. A thin stream of smoke was rising. Looking at that smoke, Rigel noticed that in the pile behind Casey there was a hollow, one much larger than that pitiful overhang far behind them. Other logs, ones they would be able to lift, lay free on the ground in front.

He didn’t even have to call halt; Rigel just watched as everyone reacted as he did to the sight of fire and shelter. In short order they had Antonio resting peacefully under shelter; Ryan and Tanner were turning loose logs into an extended wall, Rita was supervising the organization of the camp, Melanie and Breeze were plugging gaps in the walls – both natural and man-built – with smaller sticks, and the rest were grabbing firewood. The definition of that word, here, was “anything I can carry back to burn”.

Dinner was venison roasted on sticks, nearly the last of what they’d packed fresh. It had a lemony flavor from the herb Ocean thought would preserve it, but even Crystal, who wasn’t fond of lemon, didn’t complain: fresh meat was too good, compared to jerky or pemmican. After dinner, Casey and Dmitri fed the fire until they decided it was big enough to scare off animals.

Rigel sat with Antonio, watching the few stars they could see southward through the shelter opening, until Antonio slept. Then he spooned Austin. He fell asleep before he’d finished wiggling into a comfortable spot.


They cruised the next day. Despite protests that the ‘lord’ shouldn’t do labor, Rigel took a turn at carrying Antonio’s stretcher. His notion was that the more people who took turns, the fewer who would get worn out. A gliding sort of movement was necessary to keep from jarring Antonio too much; Rigel found it oddly hypnotizing. People gave up trying to convince him to not help when he took his third turn.

The dry stream bed wandered back and forth, but only once did it turn sharply enough away from their goal that they left it. To everyone’s delight, it turned out to be one of those loops where the river travels a major portion of a kilometer, but to walk across that loop was a matter of not even fifty meters. Those carrying Antonio went farther, to get up and then down the banks, but the delay was only minutes.

Rita and Ocean handed out lunch on the move. They set up their supplies on Antonio’s stretcher, at his feet – he demanded payment, which Rita provided in the form of a lusty kiss. Rigel figured they covered and extra two kilometers or more by not stopping, and thanked the two for the idea.

“We want to get Antonio to help”, was their explanation. And help was ahead, somewhere.

Clouds appeared ahead late in the afternoon. No urging was necessary to get everyone to take to the high ground again. They marched due north for three hours, until the clouds had disappeared and Rigel – and Ryan – judged the threat passed.

Anaph provided a special dinner treat for Antonio: he’d been feeling, he told Rigel, far more rabbits than should have been living in the area they’d passed through. So when they’d settled for the night, he went out a ways with Austin, and came back with a half-dozen rabbits.

“You should have seen it”, Austin reported. “We just sat down, and he made funny sounds. After a while, two bunnies hopped up. They sniffed at us. When they got close to me, I hit them on the head hard, and then cut their throats. We did that three times!”

Austin cooked Antonio’s rabbit himself. Antonio got all he wanted; everyone else got tidbits.


“Lord Rigel?” Dark had come, and with it a depression Rigel couldn’t shake. Their camp wasn’t as good as the night before, but it was safe enough: they were on a piece of land surrounded by a tight loop in the riverbed. It was a little larger than the grove camp had been, and the opening was a little wider than on the granite bluff, but they hadn’t seen or heard sign of any gr’venstut. Anaph reported only distant cats, barely close enough to exchange identities with, and they hadn’t seem concerned. But something had driven him to solitude, and now Austin had disturbed it.

“What?” Rigel snapped, and immediately regretted it. He turned to see his young attendant looking shocked and hurt. “Sorry, Austin. My mind was somewhere else.”

Austin came and knelt behind him, beginning a shoulder massage. “You have many worries, lord.”

Rigel sighed both in agreement and from the pleasure; Austin was very good with his hands. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Look east”, was the cryptic response.

There was a glow on the eastern horizon, one Rigel hadn’t seen before. Over the edge of the horizon a sharp curve peeked. “It looks like the moon! or a moon, anyway”, he corrected himself. But why haven’t we seen it before?”

“I don’t know”, Austin replied. “I don’t know stars and stuff.”

If it was a moon, it was a very strange one: it hardly got any higher in the sky, at least that they could tell, all night. Could a moon do that? Rigel wondered. Ryan would probably know, but he wasn't being very friendly lately. Some time later, Austin made a different guess. "It's a big round mountain with ice on top, reflecting the sunlight."

That came along about the time Austin had Rigel stretched out and stripped, and was sitting on Rigel’s rear, driving his thumbs into Rigel’s lower back. Rigel had no desire to answer; he was more than content to just enjoy Austin’s attention. Austin moved to his knees, still straddling Rigel, and continued downward. Rigel found it weird to be getting his rear end massaged by a guy – or to have it massaged at all! – but it was too nice to object to. He didn’t object when Austin rolled him over, either, but he did a moment later as Austin straddled him and began to sit on Rigel.

Rigel grabbed both of Austin’s hands. “Yo, buddy – you know where your butt’s gonna land?” Rigel’s estimate was that it would land on his crotch.

Austin looked hurt. “I’m not after that!” he protested.

Rigel relaxed his grip and softened his tone. “Okay, but just that contact is too much. And now it’s not just our age – I’m your lord, and you’re my squire.”

Austin rocked back, caught himself, and swung off Rigel to sit on his knees. “You mean your attendant.” His tone betrayed what he wanted the answer to be, but didn’t dare believe.

“No, my squire”, Rigel assured him. “I’ve been thinking about it for two days. You were really brave, diving in there to kill that gr’venstut. You saw something that needed you to do it, and you just went and did it.”

Austin looked stricken. “I wasn’t fast enough.” He bit his lip.

“That doesn’t matter – what matters is that you saw something no one else could do, and you just did it. That’s not something a lot of people have. It’s something a knight needs – so I’m making you my squire.”

“I thought Chen was your squire.”

“Who says I can’t have two?” Rigel grinned. “You both deserve it. Besides, I say so – Squire Austin.”

Rules or no rules, Austin threw himself on Rigel and delivered a magnificent hug.


Rigel held a short ceremony in the morning, making Austin officially his squire. It was brief, and congratulations had to be brief: they had kilometers to cover.

The sun was nearing straight overhead, and Rigel was thinking of calling a break. There was no way they could all keep walking all day like they’d done the day before; fatigue was setting in, and fatigue meant accidents. Water was a concern; greater, though, was the pair he’d sent to look. His thoughts were put on hold once again by the appearance of Casey coming at a run.

“Lord Rigel – we can’t – keep going – this way”, Casey panted.

That was enough for Rigel; it was too good an excuse to pass up. “Break!” he called. “Rest and stretch!” He turned back to Casey. “What’s ahead this time?”

“Dead end. Landslide – across stream. High banks – couldn’t climb.”

It made sense. There were no signs of recent disturbance in the stream bed, but there should have been if the clouds that made the flash flood that caught Austin had rained here, too. When they’d seen those storms, they’d covered the face of the mountains – so where was the flood here? But with a slide blocking the path, it wouldn’t have come. Maybe, Rigel thought, there’s water behind that slide!

Chen and Oran were south – that decided which way they would go. But getting out of the stream bed was a different matter. With a dead end ahead, they’d have to go back to a place where the stretcher could be gotten up safely.

“How far back was the last easy place out of this stream?” Rigel asked Austin.

“Like three hundred meters. Where that bank collapse was – we could even that out.”

“Worth a try”, Rigel conceded. He raised his voice. “Everyone, we have to backtrack! This is a dead end. Ryan, bring ‘em along easy – Casey, Dmitri, Austin and I are going ahead to make a path.”

“What do you mean ‘make a path’?” Tanner asked.

“That collapsed bank back a bit is the closest place out. It’s either that or almost a kilometer” – Rigel was guessing, at that – “and I really don’t want to walk that far. We’ll smooth that collapse into something to carry the stretcher up.” Thought of the stretcher brought pain; there was no point asking Antonio his opinion, because there was inflammation in his wounds and the fever he had made him unable to keep track of anything beyond the pain and his thirst.

Austin had been right: it was easy to turn the collapsed bank into a path out. They jogged to get there, worked with determination, and were stomping to pack the dirt just as Crystal came around the corner.

Rigel watched her. She seemed to have lost her urge to have sex with every male alive, that had consumed her the first few days in this world. His guess was that had been a stress reaction. Now she’d become fairly dependable, and definitely creative. Her bout with vomiting and diarrhea had dimmed her spirits briefly, but she was bouncing back well. He shook his head vigorously: for a moment, he’d seen her in a rich gown, walking a path lined with men holding swords overhead.

Dmitri and Casey, shorter than the others, took the front of the stretcher. Tanner and Ryan carried the back. Rigel and Austin walked along the sides to steady it. Rigel made them take it slow, calling out each step, until they had reached the top and three paces beyond. Only then did he allow the others to make the climb. The only mishap was when Breeze grabbed hold of Anaph’s staff for support, making them both tumble. The moment brought humor, though: he fell on his back, she fell forward, and her face ended about three inches from Anaph’s crotch.

“Hey! He’s mine!”, Austin called, teasing. It was a morale-boosting moment, but for Rigel it was something bigger: Austin had reached the point where he could openly joke about his orientation. He wished he could somehow reach Governor Templeton and tell him what a damned fool he was, and that his unwanted son was now more a man than his father would ever be.


Trudge, trudge.... The land rose. It developed swells and dips that became ridges and dells, which in turn became hills. Rigel tried to aim them up where they’d be able to glimpse behind that landslide. He wanted it to be full of water, good clean water.

Crystal stumbled, so he called a break. Breeze was next. Casey came jogging back with a report of good ground up the ridge ahead, and asked, “Do I have to go back?”

“I’ll scout”, Austin offered. “I’m not fast, but I can jog.”

So it was Austin who came to report that he could see the landslide, now below them, that had turned their highway into a dead end. He hadn’t gotten a look behind it, but had come back to tell Rigel it was there. Rigel’s spirits rose, and he went jogging ahead with Austin and Dmitri to have a closer look. From where Austin had been, the slide was indeed all they could see, so they climbed higher. Rigel scaled a steep rock face for a view.

There was no water, just mud.

 

[Kyanimal]

Aw!, Kuli! That stopped too soon!

You are, quite artfully, drawing us in even closer! I am truly Diggin' this! THANK YOU!!

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[Kulindahr]

Aw!, Kuli! That stopped too soon!

You are, quite artfully, drawing us in even closer! I am truly Diggin' this! THANK YOU!!

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

It may seem like too soon -- but just wait; things will fit.

Now I have to get serious about the next chapter. If you've been paying attention, you know a lot about it already.

 

[Kyanimal]

It may seem like too soon -- but just wait; things will fit.

Now I have to get serious about the next chapter. If you've been paying attention, you know a lot about it already.

Definitely looking forward to More!

And, I meant "too soon", not because things weren't fitting, but because I was enjoying reading it so much!

And, yes, I've been paying attention! (At least to the extent my "older" mind is permitting me to. )

Can't wait!

But, don't "hurry", either!

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[Kulindahr]

And, I meant "too soon", not because things weren't fitting, but because I was enjoying reading it so much!

I know. But it needed to end there. There was another place it could have, but this seemed better. Besides, the chapter was already long enough.

And, yes, I've been paying attention! (At least to the extent my "older" mind is permitting me to. )

So, what's the focus of the next chapter?

 

[DonQuixote]

Kuli,
Another great installment in the journey of their new lives.

Thanks for continuing to create this saga for us.

It's most entertaining.

 

[Kulindahr]

I may slow down for a while -- writer's block set in.

Meanwhile... can anyone tell me the main focus of the next chapter? You have all the clues you need.

 

[Anonymous]

I may slow down for a while -- writer's block set in.

Meanwhile... can anyone tell me the main focus of the next chapter? You have all the clues you need.

Gunna guess that they find where they "need" to be and Luminara comes out of her... state? ...And learns how to heal people. I have a feeling that Antonio can't hold on too much longer! Infections are nasty things.

Maybe I should read into it further, heh. That just seems like the obvious thing.

And, I must say, I can't wait till Austin turns 18

Thanks again for this awesome story!

 

[DonQuixote]

I'd say Anon hit the nail on the head, or is that he'd like to nail Austin's head - er or the other end?! lol

Yeah, what he said! Merry Christmas. You've been writing at such a frenetic pace, I can appreciate you finding yourself temporarily at loggerheads.

Take care. Enjoy the season.

 

[Kulindahr]

Gunna guess that they find where they "need" to be and Luminara comes out of her... state? ...And learns how to heal people. I have a feeling that Antonio can't hold on too much longer! Infections are nasty things.

Maybe I should read into it further, heh. That just seems like the obvious thing.

And, I must say, I can't wait till Austin turns 18

Thanks again for this awesome story!

I'd say Anon hit the nail on the head, or is that he'd like to nail Austin's head - er or the other end?! lol

Yeah, what he said! Merry Christmas. You've been writing at such a frenetic pace, I can appreciate you finding yourself temporarily at loggerheads.

Take care. Enjoy the season.

Sorry; that's two chapters away (unless the story jumps up and makes it three).

Sorry; Austin is booked with Rigel when he turns 18.

 

[Anonymous]

Sorry; that's two chapters away (unless the story jumps up and makes it three).

Sorry; Austin is booked with Rigel when he turns 18.

Haha, I know, that's what I meant. I'd like to watch :]

Hmm. I'll have to re-read the last few chapters before I can figure it out, eh? I'm always horrible at guessing what's coming next in a story

 

[Kulindahr]

Haha, I know, that's what I meant. I'd like to watch :]

Remember, Austin is only 14 -- it could be a while!

But if it happens, you know where the reserved seats are.

 

[harry113]

Thanks Kuli, fantastic fantasy !! Great story!
I hope they can reach the "magic?" place and save Antonio.
Hugs, Happy Christmas
Harry

 

[Kulindahr]

Thanks Kuli, fantastic fantasy !! Great story!
I hope they can reach the "magic?" place and save Antonio.
Hugs, Happy Christmas
Harry

All the younger kids will sing songs, the older ones will have an orgy, and he'll come out fine.


































--- --- --- --- --- ---

 

[Kulindahr]

I didn't think I'd hammer it out this soon, but I have another chapter ready.

If you're reading this and the chapter isn't here yet, it's under "post post" editing before I hit <submit>. And that can take an hour or so.....

 

[DonQuixote]

I have to hit the hay. I'm dead on my feet, and I'm sitting!
I look forward to reading it in the morning.

Take Care.

 

[Anonymous]

I didn't think I'd hammer it out this soon, but I have another chapter ready.

If you're reading this and the chapter isn't here yet, it's under "post post" editing before I hit <submit>. And that can take an hour or so.....

You've just guaranteed I'm going to be up for another hour!

 

[Kulindahr]

Trek​

“Whoa.” Chen had tested five arrows Oran had made, and all five flew straight and true. He turned to his younger partner and stuck out a hand. “You de master!”

Oran shook, a little embarrassed. Chen had helped him make his own bow, then shown him the “disgustingly random” art of arrow making. Chen had made five, and one flew true; Oran had made five, and all flew true. “I can just tell when the wood is right”, he protested.

Chen clapped him on the back. “That’s a talent and a half. I waste hours of time making arrows that won’t fly. I use the wood that looks good, and it’s still hard. Let’s make some more – but you pick the wood."

With Oran picking the wood, Chen could relax and enjoy making arrows. Neither knew how to chip rock for arrowheads -- they didn't have the right kind of rock anyway, Oran said -- so they made the ends and sharp as they could and fire-hardened them. They had no feathers to make fletching, so they used flakes of bark from a tree Oran thought was an ash. Oran figured out how to use the slight curve of the thin bark to make the shafts spin – spin made them more stable in flight.

“You got twelve?” Oran asked many minutes later.

Chen counted. “Twelve good ones – and four throw-aways.” They looked at each other. “Practice?” they said in unison. They fired ten arrows each.

Bow, arrows, supplies, short spears – everything was ready, they’d figured out how to carry it. Oran led off at a jog. As they passed the fence of spikes, Chen saw the rest of their group, tiny in the distance – eight kilometers away, if they’d made good time.

He didn’t pause to wave; it was crunch time, time for him and Oran to show what they could do.


If it hadn’t been for his experience as scout for the past days, Chen wouldn’t have been up to the exertion. But he fell in with Oran, who set a ground-eating pace – about a fast jog. Every few minutes – Chen found out later that Oran was counting a thousand paces – they walked until their breath settled down. It became a rhythm, one that before the first hour was gone pulled Chen in. Suddenly it was easier, and he found himself grinning at Oran as the meters flew by under their feet.

The two had developed a bond while scouting together. It was enough that they rarely had to speak; obstacles were pointed out with a flick of a hand, a changed of direction suggested by a tip of the head. The silence became a bond between them greater than speech for most people. Their strides came to match – and if they’d stopped to check, their heart rates and breathing did, too. It was something very much like symbiosis, letting them function as more a single organism than a team.

Oran called an early walk; he’d forgotten how many thousands of strides they’d come. He had to stop and think, because each thousand was about a kilometer, once the walk was added in. Sixteen, maybe? He asked Chen. “How many breaks is this?”

“Sixteen”, Chen answered. “How far is that?”

“It should be sixteen kilometers. We’re doing about twelve kilometers per hour. Ten on the rough stuff.” Oran dropped most of his gear and began to stretch.

“This is a stretch break?” Chen started dropping his own gear.

“Yeah – and water. We should have taken a swallow before. And we need to shed a layer – it’s warming up.”

Chen watched his companion bob and lean. “You like this, don’t you?”

Oran grinned. “Oh, yeah! I’m all ready to really go – walks between every twenty-five hundred paces. We’ll really eat it up.” He bounced on his toes while swiveling his shoulders back and forth. “Now get with it – stretch.”

“Yes, massah”, Chen quipped. He knew Oran was right, so he started copying what his younger friend was doing, and took instruction on the ones he’d missed. Most were actually familiar, but Oran wasn’t just stretching his running muscles, he was stretching and limbering up every major muscle group.

Outer shirts shed, gear loaded up, and one swallow of water down, they were off again.


Hand horizontal over hand vertical, Chen made the near-universal sign for “Time out!” somewhere after noon. “Okay”, he puffed, “I was doing fine on the easy slope, but this angling across it is killing my ankles.”

Oran fell back to walk beside Chen. “We’ve done sixty-two kilometers by my count. We can walk the rest of the day now.” He stopped to look around. “Hoist me onto your shoulders – I want some height.” Chen obligingly shed his gear, knelt behind Oran and put his head between his fellow scout’s legs. Those legs clamped on his neck, and Chen lunged forward and up. Oran’s feet hooked behind Chen’s back, for stability.

“There’s a high spot ahead, maybe six or eight kilometers”, Oran reported. “How about we go there, then decide what’s next?”

“Sounds good to me.” Chen was tempted to just drop Oran, but weary legs could give way, bringing injury, so he set him carefully back down. Then they walked.

“Shall we?” Oran asked. He knew Chen was hurting, but that rise to the west-northwest looked inviting.

Chen grunted. Climbing the first rise had been enough for him. On the other hand, there was plenty of daylight left, so... “All right. But we jog a hundred, walk fifty – screw the distance counting.”

Oran grinned. “I can figure it from that, too. But we jog this whole downhill – it’s not even three hundred meters.”

After the ten-minute break on the rise, from which they’d looked over the countryside, Chen found that he’d regained some energy. The downhill jog was easy, in fact for a while they broke into a run – at Chen’s pace; he knew that Oran could have left him in the dust. It even felt good.

They walked the last two hundred meters. Oran had slightly strained a calf muscle when a piece of ground gave way over some rodent colony just as the ground began to really slope up. What Chen wanted to do was crawl, but he had his dignity.

They reached the top together. Gear fell off them together as jaws dropped together.

Ocean had been right: there was water! Not just a creek, or a pond, but a lake that stretched across the early foothills.

“I say it’s three kilometers long”, Oran commented finally.

“At least”, Chen agreed. “And thirty kilometers away.”

Oran shook his head. “That’s illusion. The haze makes it seem farther than it is.”

Chen frowned. “I don’t see a haze.”

“That’s what’s tricky about it – you can’t actually see it, you just see its effects.” Oran pointed. “See that pair of ridges? Look between them – the features on the ridges are clear, but in the hollow everything’s fuzzy. That says there’s a haze, and it hangs thicker in the low areas.”

“Wow.” Chen was impressed, and said so. “I’m impressed. How long have you been doing this stuff? Serious outdoors stuff, I mean.”

Oran sat and wrapped his arms around his knees, enjoying the sight of the lake. “I did the whole Appalachian Trail when I was thirteen, Georgia to Maine. The next year I hiked the Pacific Crest Trail, Mexico to Canada. After that I did the coastal trails through Oregon and California. I met with Scout troops along the way and taught merit badges – hiking, backpacking, camping, orienteering. I was in Order of the Arrow almost as soon as I was in Scouts.
“I can’t imagine a summer without backpacking and hiking, or canoeing. I think I can make a canoe, if we ever find a place to settle down. Living outdoors is my place. I belong out here.”

Chen thought about that for a while. “Sounds like you grew up fine. How’d you end up in the Project?”

“Grew up fine?” Oran’s tone was bitter. “I hiked the Appalachian at thirteen with a cousin and his girlfriend, just to get away from home. I got to sleep in a tent with them fucking every single night.
“I hiked the Pacific Crest Trail with two high school guys from a place called Sweet Home, in Oregon. Somewhere near Mammoth Lakes, I got up early, packed my stuff, and ditched them.” He looked up at Chen. “After three times waking up from a bare ass bumping my face, I’d had enough.”

“You hooked up with two guys who were fucking?”

Oran shrugged. “Butt-fucking, face-fucking, crotch-fucking. Face-fucking kinda fascinated me, the first couple of times. But butt stuff made the tent stink, and crotch-fucking left a cum smell.”
“I left the trail two nights later and hitchhiked into a town. I was lucky, they had a good sporting goods store – I think it was a Joe’s. I bought a tent of my own. Then on the way back, the fat lady I got a ride from was hitting on me – that was so gross I didn’t really sleep that night.” He flashed a grin. “I didn’t get the tent set up right, either, ‘cause it was dark when I got back on the access trail.
“Then up in Oregon I met this group of guys from a couple of high schools. They were all runners, and a lot of fun. Two of them were gay; no one cared. They were both really funny, though, and made us all laugh. I hiked with them all the way to Mount Hood – that’s where they left. They got me to working out with them, and I loved it. On warm days we did a mile in the morning, naked. Watching people’s faces as we raced along was awesome.
“Washington I hiked alone right up to the Suiattle Pass. That’s kind of a death climb, a thousand meters up, up, and up. I took a day off before I started, and that’s when I met three college guys who were hiking the trail for charity. They had pledges for seven forty-five per mile. Mountain House, the big outdoor supply outfit, had donated all their food. We hit it off great. My first night with them, Grant shared my tent, because they had three people in a small two-man tent. We became really good friends.” Oran fell silent for a while.

“Anyway”, he went on, “the next summer I did the coast trail thing. Then about a week after I got home, my dad was yelling at me for wasting my time with ‘sissy Scouting stuff’. I told him he should try it, he wouldn’t last a day. He really got mad then, and my mom tried to calm him down.” Oran’s face froze up. “He hit her. She ran to the kitchen, and he went after her. He broke the broom across her face. There was a pan of little sausages cooking, and she threw that in his face. He screamed and kicked. It broke some ribs. Then she took the big meat cleaver and hacked at him. He got it away, so she grabbed a butcher knife and stuck it between his ribs.
“My dad was dead, and part of me was relieved. They put mom in prison, though.” Tears flowed down Oran’s face. “The jury said it was murder, but she was just terrified and defending herself. He’d beat her before, but the cops never believed it.
“So the court sent me to live with an uncle, who tried to molest me. I rigged booby traps in my room to keep him away. He kept trying, though, outside the room. I told the cross-country team captain, and he told his friend the wrestling team captain – then a few days later my uncle started being really, really nice to me.
“But he got caught shipping drugs inside hollow-walled planters. The court yanked me out of there and stuck me in a foster home. It was an ex-Marine family, and they did everything like it was a Marine base. One night I got pissed and told my foster dad that he must be awfully insecure if he had to have his rituals the same every day. He threw me out.
“There was another foster home where I barely got fed and never got new clothes. I told a teacher at school, and one day a couple from Children’s Protective Services showed up. They wanted to see the records of the money spent on me. It all looked good, they even had receipts, but it was all a lie. That Friday four cops showed up and arrested my foster parents for a bunch of stuff. They arrested some store owners, too, and some other foster parents. The store owners had been issuing fake receipts and splitting the support money.
“I didn’t wait for the court to send me anywhere else; I took off. In Nevada I fell in with an awesome guy named Javin, who asked his parents, and I got to live with them. I went to high school and loved it, and was really happy.
“Then the court caught up with me. They said I was delinquent. That’s how I got in the Project.”

Chen didn’t know what to say, so he just sat down by Oran and let his left knee lean against Oran’s right. They sat, just being together, until the sun was gone. Then they started to get ready for the night.

“Hey, look”, Oran said. “What’s that glow?”

“Looks like the moon’s coming up”, Chen replied – and then did a double-take. “Dude, we haven’t seen a moon at all so far. How’s that possible?”

Oran stared for a while. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’m going to sleep.”


Chen groaned.

“Sore?” Oran inquired.

“Yeah – my pillow kept wiggling. Screwed up my neck. Awfully skinny pillow, too."”

“Well, something heavy got on my arm, and it fell asleep. So you have to carry everything today.”

They had snuggled together for warmth, lacking any other source, or shelter. Oran had kept watch for two hours, then traded with Chen. When Chen came back to trade off again, though, he’d fallen asleep before Oran was fully awake -- and Oran fell back asleep, so he never went on watch.

“You know we’re lucky nothing wanted a snack”, Chen observed, pressing himself into Oran’s warmth briefly before sitting.

“Yeah. But I was hiding behind you, so I was safe”, Oran cracked.

“Oh, no”, Chen disagreed. “You’re younger and they always go for the more tender morsels.”

Oran laughed. “When’s your birthday?”

“March twelfth.”

“Mine’s August twelfth. So you’re a whole five months older than I am.” He began stretching, scanning the territory around them at the same time.

Chen laughed. “Okay, so we’re both tender morsels. Hey – has Austin hit on you?”

Oran blushed. “Yeah.” He pursed his lips and considered. “He got some, too. So?”

It was Chen’s turn to blush. “I just wondered, but... yeah, I gave him a shot of what he wanted.” For some reason that made Oran feel closer to Chen. He reached down and gave the slightly older guy a hand up, and pulled him into a quick hug.

“What was that for?” asked Chen, as he, too, began stretching exercises.

“I just appreciate you, I guess”, Oran replied.

Chen grinned. “I’d appreciate you more if you didn’t fall asleep instead of going on watch.” Oran started to protest, but Chen kept going. “But since you appreciate me, you’re forgiven.”

“Stinker”, Oran responded.

“Morsel”, Chen popped back. They grinned at each other.

Several minutes later, stretches complete and gear loaded, Oran began bouncing on his toes, watching Chen make sure all his gear was on securely. “How about we go get some water?” he asked when Chen was ready.

“Water it is”, Chen replied, and off they went, walking for a hundred paces before they switched to a jog. With the lake in view as an incentive, both were eager, and their pace showed it.


“I could cry”, Oran declared some three hours later. They stood overlooking the lake – and unable to reach it.

Chen looked disgusted. “Yeah. It’s a beautiful lake, though, isn’t it? And if we hadn’t changed course because of those gr’venstut, we would have hit it almost head-on.” He kicked a stone and watched it sail out over the drop-off. "I never thought there would be a cliff!”

The lake spread before them, easily three kilometers long, probably a half kilometer across at the widest part. Entire groves of oak, mixed with fir and cedar, dotted the far shore, where the grass along the edge was lush and green. Four streams ran in, one each from the south and west, two from the north where the ground was higher. The trees were thicker to the north, too, groves nearly touching or even running together. It was the border zone between savanna and forest.

But on their side, the shore was marked by a sharp cliff, which they agreed was between ten and thirty meters high. The difference was because the land rose and fell along this shore. They found a spot that stuck farther west than the rest, so they could look for slides or rock falls that might provide a way down.

“Nothing”, Chen said, kicking another rock out into the air. He counted, estimated in his head. “Four-eight, fifty meters. What the heck made this side of the lake pop up?”

Oran looked thoughtful. “Maybe the lake is here because this side popped up. Maybe those streams met here and kept flowing east, but then this got high and the water stopped against it.”

Chen looked at his companion with new respect. You’re not just a set of legs and eyes, huh? he thought. “You might be right. It doesn’t help us, but you might be right. Well”, he sighed, “nothing for it. Back south would be dumb–“

“...so we go north”, Oran concluded. They walked, discouragement having sapped their strength. Within an hour, though, they were jogging, eating up the kilometers, following the edge of the cliff... never finding a way down.


Oran stumbled. He rolled and came to a sitting position, feeling his ankle. Seeing Chen’s concern, as he came and squatted, Oran told him, “No biggie. I learned a long time ago to just drop and roll the moment my foot hit something bad. It’s like instinct now.” Chen glanced at the ankle. Oran shook his head. “I’d better walk for a while to feel it out. But it feels okay.”

Twenty minutes later he wasn’t so confident. “I can’t move as fast”, he reported. “This will slow us down. Damn it – Rigel’s counting on us!”

“Bud, we’ve moved so fast we could catch them by walking”, Chen responded.

Oran considered it. “Maybe. But we have to keep going – up ahead there has to be a way down. Okay, maybe not to the lake, but to that stream. I really don’t think what did this cut the mountains in two.”

Chen had to agree, so they continued north, walking half the time, jogging half the time. As before, they traveled without talking.

“Um, Chen? Don’t look now, but off to my right there’s one of those big cats.”

Chen could see something in his peripheral vision, and it was moving, so he took Oran’s word that it was a big cat. “What’s it doing?”

“Pacing us.”

“I hope it’s not shopping for dinner!”

Whatever the cat was up to, it didn’t seem intent on bothering them. It seemed content to pad along with them. Bit by bit it got closer, then held a separation of thirty meters. It continued, hour after hour, until they reached a point in the foothills where the land along the cliff was jumbled.

“We could climb down this”, Oran judged. "Those blocks are like steps."

“We could, but no stretcher could”, Chen replied. “We have to find a place everyone can go.”

Oran muttered something Chen couldn’t make out, and turned away from the broken slope. The cat stood there less than ten meters away. “Chen – turn around slowly.”

“Holy shit”, Chen breathed. Just then the cat turned and began walking away.

“Maybe it came close and decided we weren’t dinner”, Oran guessed. But the cat had turned and come back. It looked at them both intently, then turned and started padding away again.

“Chen, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Oran.

“That it wants us to follow it?” Chen responded. “Why should we?”

“It hasn’t attacked us?” Oran suggested. “Chen, this isn’t normal for a cat. I think it’s safe. And remember Anaph has been talking to them."

Chen considered. “Okay – but if you’re wrong, I will torture you for eternity.”

“Promise?” Oran teased. And they set off after the cat.

Walking in unknown woods can be slow going. The cat, though, led them on paths where the only hazard was branches hanging low. Other animals avoided them.

And in time, the cat stopped, looking ahead, as if to say, Look here, at what I’ve brought you to.

Oran and Chen took it that way, pushing past the cat through ferns and low branches. What they saw made them want to cheer.

“Oran, this is it!” Chen said, and walked forward.

Oran stood looking. It’s beautiful! he thought. It was a beauty he could almost taste; he breathed deep, taking it in.

A stream tumbled down between rocks, moss covering many, little plants sticking up downstream from some. Low brush and ferns grew right down to the water’s edge, except around the pool below the series of small falls. There, a sand bar covered with moss provided plenty of room for a dozen people to gather, and the rocks immediately upstream made a place where people could kneel down and fill containers with water.

“Now we just have to tell Rigel”, he breathed, and went forward to join Chen.

 

[DonQuixote]

God Morning, Kuli.
A great adventure for Oran and Chen - and companion trailblazing big Cat!

You brought back memories of my Scouting days, though I never did the Apalachian Trail, I did a fair amount of hiking in the Adirondacks.

Thanks for the installment and the memories.
And, Merry Christmas!