Grumbling under her breath, the woman stands and crosses her arms, keeping a close eye on me as the young man crouches before me.
“The two young adults sleeping by the creek west of here,” he starts, my blood freezing at his icy calmness, “are they with you?”
Keeping my face neutral, I refuse to answer him, which he acknowledges with a nod and a sigh.
“I thought so,” he breathes. “Listen, I understand that we got off on the wrong foot. We can resolve this issue peacefully, but that’s going to require your cooperation. This encounter of ours wasn’t supposed to get as messy as it did.”
“Maybe it would have gone over differently if your lumberjack friend over there didn’t threaten me with a knife.”
He opens his mouth for a retort, glances over at his companion - who has enough sense to look guilty - thinks better of his answer, and simply nods.
“What’s your relationship with those friends of yours by the creek?” He asks.
“What’s it to you?” I demand, wiggling my hands against the bindings while the two aggressors are distracted.
“Well, we can never be too certain with strangers nowadays,” he muses, rubbing his chest. “Never know if they’re the good ones, or the bad ones.”
“And which does that make you?”
The woman scoffs at that, looking mildly offended. “You’re not dead, are you?”
“Not yet,” I spit.
Seeing that the conversation is going nowhere, the woman crouches down before me again, the young man sighing and standing out of her way. “If we wanted you dead, we wouldn’t have bothered capturing you. You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be.”
With my hands finally free of the bindings, I spit blood up in the woman’s face, hitting her directly in the eyes as she rears back in disgust, her hands flying to wipe away the blood. “Oh you nasty little shit!”
Taking advantage of their confusion, I roll out of the way of her boot as she attempts to kick me and I spring to my feet, snatching my bow and quiver from the stump near the young man as I bolt past and dart through the trees.
For a brief moment, the woman gives chase, but the young man calls out to her, “Just let her go!”
The woman breaks pursuit, but I don’t bother looking back as I weave through the trees, tossing the bindings aside as I head straight for our camp, sighing in relief when I spot the camouflaged tarp that covers our sleeping bags. As I wade through the creek, two heads pop up, startled at the sudden sound.
“Damn, Cassy,” my sister Octavia is the first to speak, her dark hair a mess and her dark eyes wide as she takes in the state I’ve returned in. “Did you pick a fight with a tree and lose?”
“Something like that,” I grunt, clambering onto the banks and tossing mud onto the fire. “Pack the essentials, we’re getting the hell outta here.”
My brother Felix stands, towering over both my sister and me, looking over me with worry. “Are you okay? What happened out there?”
“I’m fine for now,” I usher away his worried hands as I untie the tarp. “I’ll be better once we’re away from here. I was attacked by a couple assholes in the woods that stole our breakfast.”
Now understanding the danger we’re in, my brother and sister quickly start to take down our little camp, shoving what few supplies we have into their bags as we prepare to leave. Behind the tent at the sound of a twig snapping, I whirl about, my bow drawn and an arrow nocked, aimed directly at the chest of the young man from earlier.
“Heya,” he greets, his hands held up.
“Ready for round two already, asshole?” I growl.
Behind me from the other side, the woman’s voice replies with, “That wouldn’t be wise.”
I whirl about once more, aiming my bow at the woman as Octavia grabs her bat, facing the young man, as Felix freezes, assessing the situation.
“Cass?” Felix hisses towards me. “What’s going on?”
“These are the circus freaks that jumped me while I was out hunting,” I explain.
The woman looks mildly offended and I can hear the young man pout behind me.
“Well,” he huffs. “That’s not very nice.”
“Neither is what you two did to my face, yet here we are,” I snap back, turning my head in his direction, though never taking my eyes off the woman before me.
The woman sighs, her face softening only by a fraction. “Look, we can still talk this out. How about we bring you to our camp, get you patched up, and smooth this whole thing over with some hot food?”
I scoff. “Right, because talking it out worked so well for us five minutes ago.”
The woman furrows her brows at me. “All you had to do was disarm and answer some questions; you were the one who chose violence.”
“And all you had to do was approach like normal human beings; you were the one who stuck a knife to my throat. That doesn’t exactly convey that you just wanna ask questions.”
The woman takes a small step as she opens her mouth, but I raise my bow a bit higher, aiming directly at her head this time. She pauses, holding her hands up in surrender.
“Just walk away,” I growl. “Walk away, and you won’t ever have to see us again.”
Behind me, the man sighs. “I wish we could, but we can’t do that. We don’t know who you are, and besides that, you left your breakfast back in the clearing.”
At the thought of food, my stomach lets out a growl of protest, reminding me of my hunger at the worst time. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light, but I swear I see the woman before me smirk. After a blink, however, her face is back to a cautiously neutral expression as she eyes me.
“I’m not asking you to trust us,” the man says, and I hear Octavia shift behind me as she readies her bat. “If you come with us and talk to our leader and answer his questions, we can get you a bite to eat, have you patched up, and you can be on your merry way.”
“Somehow I feel as though you’re lying to me.”
The woman sighs, stepping closer and seeming unphased as I once again adjust my aim to her face. “Listen,” she starts. “I understand where you’re coming from, I do. You’re just trying to protect your people-”
“My family,” I correct.
She nods. “Right, your family. But we have to look out for our people too. Understand that bringing you to our camp is a risk that we’re all taking; it’s a risk for us because you’ve proven yourself to be dangerous, and it’s a risk for you because you don’t know who we are.”
“Yeah, well, from where I’m standing, you have a lot less to lose if this doesn’t work out in your favor,” I growl.
There’s a brief flash of guilt that crosses her face before her mask of neutrality falls back in place. “And from where I’m standing, if you don’t get patched up soon, you could die of infection and leave your family without their protector.”
I flinch at that. We’ve been running low on medical supplies for months now, getting by on clean rags and luck for most scrapes and burns, but the cut on my neck and the cuts on my face require actual medical attention, and if they have a doctor or medical professional of any sort, I can at least get checked out.
“Five minutes ago, you wanted to beat my face in,” I state. “Why should I believe anything you have to say?”
Behind me, the young man calls out, “She’s got a point there!”
The woman glares at him from over my shoulder before her attention returns to me. “Because you aren’t marked,” she says simply. “If you were, there wouldn’t have been a discussion.”
“Wow,” my sister drawls from behind me. “Such a poetic way with words.”
The woman casts a confused look at my sister, and I scowl back at the woman, daring her to try something and give me a reason to bury an arrow between her eyes. If these two circus freaks would have just minded their own business and left me alone, none of this would have happened, and I would be dragging home a deer and a pack of squirrels back to camp for breakfast to feed my family. Instead, I’ve been assaulted and blamed for the hostilities, and now I have to risk my siblings safety because of these two.
The woman’s face is neutral, her mask of indifference slipped perfectly in place as she calmly watches me, though the intensity behind her stormy eyes has yet to disappear.
“Cass,” my sister ventures, glancing back to me. “What do we do?”
I glance back at my siblings, lowering my bow. The strangers have a point; if they wanted us dead, we would have been killed by now, no questions asked. Though their approach in the woods was aggressive, they never aimed to kill me as I ran. On top of that, if I were to kill these two here, then there would be a widespread manhunt from their camp once they learned that two of their own haven’t made it back. Considering how long my family and I have gone without substantial food and sleep, that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
“Cassy?” Felix asks, slowly lowering his fists.
Sighing, I lower my bow completely, withdrawing my arrow and sliding it back into the quiver on my hip. “Fine,” I growl. “We’ll do it your way.”
However much I hate giving up and being forced to waste time and go with these two, killing or maiming them and risking a manhunt with their camp would put my family and I in jeopardy, and I can’t have that. Though we’ve taken too much time in our journey as it is, I know how to wait and play nice until the time for us to leave becomes apparent.
“Good,” the man sighs. “I hope you understand that we’ll have to take your weapons while we escort you to camp.”
I nod as the woman adds, “And we’ll have to check these two for markings as well.”
I eye the strangers as my siblings attention snaps to me. “Isn’t it enough that I’m clean?”
“No,” the woman simply replies.
Felix and Octavia exchange nervous glances but eventually relent, understanding at last that I intend to cooperate for the time being.
“I don’t like this, Cassy,” Octavia mutters as she cautiously removes her jacket.
“Don’t worry, Tavia,” I assure her, glaring over at the woman as she approaches to examine my sister’s arms and neck. “I’m sure these nice people won’t do anything untoward after going so far out of their way to be cordial. They’re smarter than that.”
The woman regards me with a guarded expression I can’t quite place; respect? Caution?
She checks my sister much more gently than she did with me - probably because Octavia hasn’t hit her in the face yet - while the young man checks my brother. Felix and Octavia both stand stiffly as the strangers check their arms, necks, and chests for the spider tattoo none of us have, and I watch them intently.
Finally, the young man breathes a sigh. “They’re clean.”
“They’re my siblings,” I deadpan. “I’d be concerned if they weren’t.”
The strangers before me silently communicate something to one another, their faces blank, and the woman sighs.
“Like we said earlier,” she notes, “we can never be too safe. Drop the weapons and grab your bags, we’ll take you to our camp.”
“Can I at least wash my face first?” I ask, touching my cheek and pulling away my fingers with halfway dried blood. “I’m sure your camp won’t appreciate it if you escort a bunch of strangers into their home with their faces covered in blood.”
The man’s eyes flick to the woman, casting a knowing look her way as she nods, pulling out a rag. “Hand me your weapons, and you’re free to clean,” the woman states. Begrudgingly, I hand her my bow, quiver, and knife, which she straps to her back and belt, then gesture for my siblings to follow suit. Felix and Octavia cast worried glances my way before complying, handing their weapons to the young man who straps Octavia’s bat and Felix’s machete to his belt. Finally disarmed, the woman hands the cloth to me, gesturing to the creek and allowing me to approach.
With all eyes on me - the strangers likely watching to see if I’ll run again, and my brother and sister likely watching to see if I’ll launch a surprise attack - I crouch by the water, soak the rag, and begin to dab it across my face, careful of the still open gash in my head and neck. Luckily my wounds have nearly stopped bleeding so much and are in the very beginning stages of scabbing over, though it still won’t be a good look to enter their camp.
‘Alright, Cass, we gotta play nice with the circus freaks for a bit,’ I think. ‘We’ll go to their little camp, play ignorant, and if they’re telling the truth, they’ll let us go and we’ll never have to see them again.’ I inwardly groan as I catch the woman watching me like a hawk. ‘That’s assuming they don’t think we’re a threat and decide to kill us first…’
With my face significantly less bloody, my siblings and I are allowed to pick up our travel packs and the strangers lead us through the woods, away from our camp. They guide us through the trees, doubling back to the clearing where they have Felix heft the deer onto his shoulders and Octavia grab the sack of squirrels. The woman takes the lead as we leave the clearing, and it’s not long after that I realize that she had a pistol tucked in a concealed holster on the back of her belt this entire time.
‘She could have just shot me right there in the woods and left me to rot,’ I think. ‘They’ve gone out of their way to talk to us, I almost feel bad for breaking her nose.’
The woman in question calls back, “Hurry it up back there, we don’t have all day.”
‘Almost,’ I reiterate as I roll my eyes. ‘I almost feel bad about it.’
Several minutes pass as the strangers usher us through the woods, and we eventually find ourselves on a well-worn dirt road. Judging from the lack of tire tracks and hoof-prints, it would be safe to assume that they don’t go scouting nearby towns for supplies. The longer we walk the dirt road, the more quiet chatter I can pick up over the hushed whispers of the trees. As we clear the bend in the road, through the branches and bushes before me, I finally spot a large hand-painted wooden sign hanging above an equally large gate made of logs and sheet-metal, the sign above reading ‘Camp Cottonwood.’
Upon our approach, the woman leading our merry little group gives two short whistle blasts, catching the attention of two guards who poke their heads up above the tall wall. They eye us cautiously, glance at one another, and disappear back over the wall. A heavy clunk later and the turning of large gears, the gates slowly begin to swing open.
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