Sam and I settled near a fast-moving stream. I rinsed blood and dirt off my face and arms, then scrubbed my skin dry before crawling into Sam’s sleeping bag with him.
The bag was warm relief after the frigid night and day. Sam had positioned the bag inside a shallow hollow among tree roots—an abandoned animal den, perhaps—so we were concealed on three sides. And Sam, being Sam, made sure he was between the exit and me, which meant that when he curled his body around mine, our burrow was deep and dark. His breathing was warmth on the back of my neck, and his hand rested on my hip.
“Are you comfortable?” he whispered.
“Yeah.” My feet were squished against our backpacks, and we were using the other sleeping bag as an awkward pillow. And though the cloth was thick and soft, a root dug at my shoulder. I shifted toward Sam, and his breath hitched. “Very. Aren’t you?”
His hand trailed up my side. “I wish we were at home.”
“Me too.” My hand slipped to my SED. “And I wish we had music, but I want to be able to hear in case anything happens.” Who knew what else might appear on us, now that we were beyond the safety of Range?
“You can listen if you want.” Sam kissed the back of my neck, making me shiver. It was amazing how he could make me want this huge and unnameable thing no matter where we were, and no matter the circumstances. “Listen if you want,” he said again. “I’ll let you know if anything happens outside. Just relax.”
Relaxing seemed unlikely, but when I pulled out my SED and earpieces and closed my eyes, there was only music.
Warm sounds of the piano pulsed through me. Heavy. Familiar. And with Sam’s presence behind me, soothing me, I drifted into dreamless sleep.
I jerked awake, darkness all around as the earth trembled.
Sam wasn’t behind me. I flailed inside the sleeping bag, discovering that one of the backpacks was gone and night had fallen.
“Sam!” I scrambled outside as the earth shuddered again and dirt rained into the hollow. My SED continued playing an old sonata, even as I ripped the earpieces away from me and shoved the whole thing into my pocket.
The forest was dark, quiet except for the thumping in the ground. It wasn’t like an earthquake—not this time—so it must have been something large moving nearby.
And I’d shouted.
I hunched, making myself smaller as I squinted in the darkness. Faint moonlight found its way through the forest canopy, but everything was still in shadows, and I couldn’t detect any movement.
The ground shuddered under my knees, under my palms when I touched the dirt. The movement was long and sustained, not like a troll plodding down the path. This was something else, maybe vehicles rumbling nearby. Our friends should have been far away, so if the shudder in the earth was vehicles, was it drones or people?
Either way, they wouldn’t be friendly.
I snatched the sleeping bags from the hollow and quickly rolled them up to fit over my backpack. There was no chance I’d find this tree again on my own.
But before I took off, I needed to find Sam. I called his SED, and he answered immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” I shook my head and peered through the dark forest. “You’re not here. That’s what’s wrong. Where are you?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I went to check on the path. The roc is gone. Flown off, I guess. I’m on my way back now. We can meet up with Stef and Whit soon.”
The rumble in the earth was fading. “Did you see anything? I heard something. Like thunder, but—”
“I heard it.” Sam paused, seeming to focus on something else—walking or climbing, probably—and dragged in a long breath. “I heard it, but I don’t know what it was.”
“Okay. Raise your flashlight in my direction. Maybe I can see it and start walking to you.”
“Just a second.”
While he was quiet, I peered through the forest. Faint light glimmered in the north. I secured my backpack and the sleeping bags and began picking my way around trees.
“Did you see it?” he asked.
“Yep.” I ducked around trees and crumbling boulders and clicked off so I could use my SED as a flashlight; mine was in my backpack, and I didn’t want to stop and remove it. Not with something out there. Frozen pine needles rustled and twigs snapped as we approached each other. “Next time,” I said, huffing, “wake me up to tell me you’re leaving. As far as I knew, something came by and ate you.”
“Sorry.” Sam hugged me and kissed my cheek. “Let’s head this way. There’s a pond not far off. Stef and Whit are waiting for us there.”
I nodded and crept through the woods with him. Being outside Range made me jumpy. It seemed like anything could happen. There were no traps in these woods, meant to capture or deter other dominant species, and no drone patrols. This place was strange and wild, though hauntingly similar to the forests of Range.
Vibrations traveled through the ground again, low and steady. An odd scent rode the air, like animal sweat mixed with pine and dirt. “Sam.”