Half Wild

“Just over this peak,” I say. “Not far.” And somehow I know I’m right. If we get over the peak we’ll be safe. We’ll find the way back on the other side.

 

I set off and for once I’m faster at climbing than Gabriel. He’s falling behind. But it’s an easy route and I know he’ll catch up. I’m nearly at the top when a gray mist descends. There are narrow paths, each looking the same, each about thirty centimeters wide, like a spider’s web through the rocks. I follow one and it leads to a cliff edge and then I follow another and reach a different cliff edge. I run back but I’ve no idea which way I came up or which way is down.

 

“Gabriel!” I call. “Gabriel!”

 

“Here!” a voice replies but I know it isn’t him.

 

I run in panic and see a figure in the mist and then stop and retrace my steps as I know it’s another Hunter. I run in a different direction and call again for him and someone replies but again I know it’s not Gabriel.

 

I stop and calm myself. I know I can work it out. I follow a path as far as it goes, scramble over a long, flat boulder, jump down, and reach two large standing stones, squeezing between them. The mist clears for a few seconds and I see the valley below. A new green valley without any Hunters in it. The path is steep but easy to run down. I shout for Gabriel.

 

He doesn’t answer.

 

“I’ve found the way!” I shout. “I’ve found it!”

 

I wait and wait.

 

“Gabriel?”

 

Nothing happens. The mist sits there as thick and gray as before.

 

I know I must go back for him. I tell myself that I’ll remember this path, over the flat boulder and between the two standing stones. I creep back, keeping low, hoping that if Hunters are here I’ll be able to steal between them without being seen. Black shapes move and disappear and I dodge back. I take a different path and hear a grunt and I know it’s Gabriel. I know they’ve got him and are hurting him. I move forward and hear another grunt to my right and I follow it. Further to my right I see one black shape standing over another and I know it’s Kieran. He has a gun in his hand and looks up at me as I approach. I say to myself that Kieran is dead and he can’t hurt me and he can’t hurt Gabriel.

 

Gabriel is lying on the ground at his feet.

 

Kieran kicks him hard and Gabriel groans and rolls onto his front. His eyes open, fix on me, and he says, “Nathan.”

 

Kieran presses the barrel of his gun to the back of Gabriel’s skull.

 

I can do nothing but plead and plead and plead. I say, “Please, no. Please.” And in my head I’m saying that Kieran is dead, it isn’t real, Kieran is dead.

 

Kieran says, “But you killed me. So now I get my revenge.” And he pulls the trigger and—

 

 

 

 

 

The Third Stake

 

 

 

 

 

Van is pulling the old stake out. Gabriel is sitting close to me, his head down. He’s covered in sweat. I am too.

 

I say, “I found the way but we have to stay together.”

 

He mumbles, “Yes, together.”

 

Van gives us each another dose of the potion. She helps Gabriel hold his cup as he drinks. It’s getting light now but I’m not sure what day it is or how long we’ve been here.

 

Van pushes the stake through the wound left by the previous one and everything now is sore and hot and aching, and I grab the stake when it appears out of Gabriel’s hand.

 

“We stay together,” I say but I feel my voice is faint and I’m falling forward.

 

*

 

I wake up lying on the ground in a forest. The trees are not so old but tall and thin. Silver birch.

 

“France,” Gabriel says. “Verdon.” And his voice sounds happy.

 

“Your favorite place,” I say.

 

Neither of us moves. I just want to be here in this special place and watch the trees.

 

“Take me to Wales,” he says. “Your favorite place.”

 

I’m about to say it’s too dangerous when I realize that I can do it. I want to show him the place I love. I want to go back there. I stand and Gabriel stands with me, my hand holding his. The hillside slopes down in front of us and I ask, “What’s that way?”

 

“The gorge,” Gabriel replies.

 

I don’t know how to get to Wales and I look around and wonder if there are any Hunters hiding in the trees.

 

“Have you seen any Hunters?” I ask.

 

“No,” he replies.

 

“Do you know the way to Wales?”

 

“No. You show me.”

 

But I don’t know which way to go: the gorge is too steep to climb down and the rest is just woodland and scrub.

 

I stand there. Wales is north but hundreds of miles away. We could go that way, though. There are no Hunters; there’s nothing to stop us. I’ve just got to choose the direction and lead the way. And still I stand there. I have the strangest feeling. A feeling I never thought I’d have. For a few seconds, I want my cage back, so I don’t have to make any decisions. But I’ve escaped from the cage. And as soon as I remember that, as soon as I realize I’m free to go where I want, I feel the animal adrenaline in me and I know what to do.

 

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