Author's Note

So, it's been a while since I've updated this story.

Years even.

If you're coming from past favorites or anything like that, I'd like to say thank you for keeping my story in your favorites. You might have noticed that I have rewritten all of the previous chapters. I essentially cut out the fat and spiffed it up a bit, took me a bit to actually do, but it's done.

I have sat down and thought about how I wanted this story to progress and end and I came to a conclusion about it. So, if you are still reading this, I want to thank you for being patient with me. It truly means a lot.

Please enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 11: The Norm

I was laying as softly as I could on the ‘bed’, barely moving as my body was far too tired to even flinch a muscle. I tried to sleep after Howard had left me alone, but for the life of me, I just couldn’t seem to keep my eyes closed. Maybe it was paranoia, or maybe adrenaline was still running through me-I don’t know. But when I eventually did fall asleep, I think I only got about an hour or two of shuteye before I felt someone prodding at my back. The uncomfortable feeling of this foreign object unfortunately woke me up from my deep slumber and I was forced to open up my heavily bagged eyes to see that an old woman, probably mid fifties, looking down at me with an emotionless look.

We kept eye contact for a short while, me rubbing my heavy eyes and her standing there as still as a statue, before she spoke up with an elegant accent.

“Mister Conner’s, I do believe that you are past due for chopping. If you’d kindly follow me, I will lead you to the tree that you shall cut down today,” She then turned around and was about to close the door behind her before turning around and tossing me my son's pocket knife. “And be a dear and cut that hair of yours. Might get in the way of chopping,” she then promptly left.

I stared dumbfoundedly at the door for a few seconds before I laid my head back down on the pillow to fall back asleep. But as I was about to fall back under the realm of sleep, I heard the door open again and I heard the lady speak to me again.

“That means now, Mister Conner’s,” She said, this time standing at the door and simply staring at me. I didn’t want to bother moving my body, but I knew that Howard wouldn’t be happy if I layed down all day. So, very slowly, I pushed the sheets off of me, grabbed the knife, and stood up from the flat surface of my bed. Mary then seemed to grab for something around her as I got up, her face as still as a rock as she watched my movements. I took a clump of my hair in my hand, too tired to care if I was cutting it properly. The lady must’ve figured that out because before I was allowed to start cutting, I felt one of her wrinkled hands stop the blade.

“Let me trim that for you,” Her voice became slightly uneasy as she took the blade from my hands. She soon gestured for me to sit down and began to cut my long hair. She was rather rough, but I couldn’t blame her that much. Now, if I were to be honest, I thought she was going to slit my throat. With how Howard was, I wouldn’t doubt if she began to sputter on about near insane ideas. But as she was cutting my hair, throwing off clump after clump
as I waited, I decided to start up a conversation.

“So, what happened to Howard?” I was happy he didn’t appear, but I was slightly confused that Howard decided not to show up.

“Howard realized that our food supply was running low, so he took Miss Bagger with him to find something to eat. He’s been out all day,” She said, not even skipping a beat.

“Uhm, well, what happened to Durham?” The literal second I said Durham I felt her stop cutting and heard her let out a small sigh.

“Mister Brick is currently… settling a personal issue,” She said, her voice slightly straining itself to keep out the hidden emotions. I was quiet soon after she said that. We didn’t really have much else to talk about so I just listened to her cut my hair.

Soon, I felt the blade stop cutting away at my hair and felt her take her hands off of my head.

“I would cut that stubble you have, but I fear I would accidentally cut you,” She said as she quickly pocketed my blade before swiftly walking towards the door. “Now be a dear and follow me,” Without waiting any longer, I followed her out the door and shadowed her footsteps. While walking, I looked around for Durham, through the rich, green ground and the tall willowing trees, but I couldn’t find him for the life of me.

That was until I saw him walking with a shovel. I was about to say ‘hi’ to him, but the look on his face made it quite clear that he didn’t want to converse with anyone. So, I kept my mouth shut and just merely watched him as he began to walk a little ways away from where we were towards three blobs that I couldn’t make out from how far we were. Soon though, when Durham got there, he began to dig. I merely watched him as he tossed shovel after shovel of dirt behind him, not really caring where it went, as he continued to pull up dirt from the ground. I continued to watch him until I no longer could, until he became nothing more than a speck in the landscape. And so, I turned my attention back to the stoic woman that was walking me towards a tree.

And after a while of following the fairly quiet woman, I saw a rather thick. The size of immaculate tree sending shivers up my spin as I tried to imagine cutting it. With the axe already lying against its brown skin, and moss already growing all over its trunk, the lady then proceeded to face me with a rather familiar revolver in her hands.

“I would suggest that you begin immediately,” She said with a rather deadpanned tone.

As I hit the tree with yet another swing from the axe, I felt my muscles tense up upon impact. I felt the soreness of my arms crying out for me to stop, but I continued on. I pulled the axe out of the tree and used it as a crutch as I wiped the sweat from my brow and tried to catch my breath.

And as I looked back, I saw the woman standing there with the same unemotional look still plastered on her face as I was heaving in air. I saw her hiding my gun underneath her hands, almost as if she was trying to forget that she was holding me at gunpoint. And being the idiot that I was back then, I couldn’t help but tell her how to hold it correctly.

“Keep your hands off the cylinder,” I said, startling her as it was the first time I said anything during my activity. She stared at me questioningly as her hands slightly fidgeted with my gun.

“If you fire that thing like that, you’re going to lose your fingers, at the least break them,” She then slowly removed her hands from the cylinder and rested them on the butt of the gun. Her index finger resting inside the trigger guard. I rolled my eyes out of instinct as I felt like I was with a rookie again.

“Keep your finger off the trigger. The first thing you’re going to shoot is going to be your foot with the way you’re holding it. Only put it on the trigger when you see your target, and only if you’re going to fire” I said as she gave me a bit of a skeptical look. She did do as I said however and pulled her finger out of the guard. After that, we sort of just stared at each other for a small time, not saying anything. I then shook my head, lifted the axe again, and prepared to strike it against the tree.

But before I was able to swing it, I heard the lady speak to me for the first time since I started.

“Why are you telling me this?” She said as I slowly put down the axe and turned around to face her.

“Well, I seen enough bloodied fingers and terrible accidents happen before and after I joined the force. I really don’t want to see another bloody finger because someone was too lazy to move their hand,” I said, remembering how a rather stupid coworker from before tried to clean the meat cutter without putting gloves on.

But as I was remembering the bloody mess that happened that day, I couldn’t help but notice that the woman had a rather distinctive scar on her left cheek.

“Where'd you get that?” I asked, trying to change the topic.

“Get what?”

“The scar on your face,” The old hag realized what I was talking about and seemed to stumble over her words.

“I-I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You kidding me? It’s still red, so it can’t be more than a month old, pretty sure you’d remember that. I know those… things out there couldn’t have done it, their claws would’ve caused it to curve slightly and you would've had more than one scar. There’s only one scar and it’s straight, so it’s likely a knife was used. I think-”

“I think you should get back to work,” She said, interrupting my train of thought as she looked at me with an unamused look.

I looked at her again, watching her face contort slightly as she tried to hide her anger, but I turned back around, picked the axe back up, and swung it against the tree again.

I swung the axe against the tree for what felt like the thousandth time that day. My body had never felt so sore in my life, my arms felt like they were about to fall off, and my back felt like it was about to break. But through it all, I heard the winding and creaking sound of the tree as it began to fall down. Thankfully it fell down opposite of me, I didn’t feel like moving at all.

I was heaving in air as I feel onto the ground, resting as much as I could. I almost feel asleep, but was taken out of my bedlam as I felt something frantically sniffing my head. I immediately lunged off the ground and turned around to see that same German shepherd looking at me hungrily. I backpedaled from the dog, ignoring the stiffness in my muscles as I tried to get as far away from it as possible. With the experience we had last time, I doubt it would be any friendlier to me.

It only proved me right as it growled viciously at me and was about to pounce, but was stopped when a certain lady got in the way.

“Get out you petulant dog,” She said with a commanding voice that I felt like I was being talked down, too. The dog let out a slight whimper before it began running off somewhere else. After her small bravado, the lady turned around and offered her hand to me.

I slowly grabbed her hand with some suspicion as I still didn’t trust her. She then proceeded to pull me up from the ground, grunting as she tried to pick me up. And as I stood as straight as I could, the lady started to walk off to another direction.

And as she walked away from me, she quickly turned her head and motioned for me to follow. And as the tired man that I was, I sluggishly dragged my feet across the ground as I followed the lady to wherever we were going.

But as we walked in silence, I looked around to try and pass the time. But I couldn't keep myself distracted. I had a burning question to ask, but I couldn’t form the right words. I’m not sure if it was from. Nervousness, or from the fact that I was tried. But during my little brainstorming, the lady suddenly stopped causing me to stumble a little bit.

In front of us was a very familiar raging river. I looked left to right to see if we were close to that cliff, but was disappointed to see a lack of one in any direction.

But as I was sulking in self pity, I felt something being put into my hands. Looking down I saw a rather clean metal bucket in my arms. And as I was about to ask what I was doing, the lady quickly gestured toward the river.

I got the jist of it.

Slowly, making sure I didn’t fall in, I shoveled some water into the bucket before standing back up and using whatever muscles I had left to help. The lady then quickly turned around, again, and started to walk back to our little village. I followed shortly.

As we walked there, I felt the stiffness in my arms again as I tried to carry the bucket full of water back with us. I constantly switched from one hand to another as I felt them cramp up underneath the weight. And when we did finally get there, the lady told me to put it down and rest for a minute.

As I rested, I looked up at the lady who was still looking as stoic as she usually does. And as I was looking at her, I couldn’t help but as her my burning question.

“Was that your dog?” I asked.

“No,” She said without even turning to me.

“Who’s is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know who’s dog it is?” I asked utterly confused as she simply kept looking forward.

“I don’t know because no one else does. It is a sheep that has strayed from its flock.”

“... It’s a stray then.”

“In layman’s terms, yes.”

Afterwards, we sat in silence for a minute or two before she told me to get up. I did as I was told and followed her more. And as we neared the camp, I saw Durham sitting silently near the charred ground that was the campfire. Thankfully we were heading to the same area-I could ask him why he looked so sad.

When we got there, she told me to put down the bucket and told me to rest again. And so I began to rest again. And seeing that I couldn’t do anything else for the small time I had, I sat down next to Durham. Trying to ignore the pain in my back as I felt it surge up my spin.

He shifted slightly at my sudden movement, but relaxed as he realized that it was me. He didn’t say anything, and instead looked deeper into the charred ground.

“What happened?” I asked suddenly. He looked up from the ground and looked at me with his brown eyes. He opened his mouth slightly, his trembling lips being extremely apparent. He looked like he was about to say something, but closed his mouth and went back to looking at the ground.

I was a little confused by his behavior, but I didn’t want to pry. So we just sat there, both of us respecting each other's personal business. But after a minute or two of just sitting there, I began to remember the first couple of days I was brought here. How Durham treated my wounds, how Howard was an ass, how he took my wallet. A wallet that had my drivers license. So it only sparked a question in my mind. Why did they have to ask for my name if they had my drivers license? And so, I turned to Durham.

“Durham,” I said, he only turned his head ever so slightly. “I just remembered that you guys took my wallet from me while I was sleeping. I remember how Howard taunted me with my family's photo and how he spoke down to me. What I want to understand from that day is why didn’t you look in my wallet for my I.D? Why did you have to ask for my name if you had my drivers license?”

“Howard wouldn’t let us touch it,” Durham said, his voice only audible to my ear.

“Then how did Howard not know?” Durham didn’t say a single thing after that. Whether he was wondering himself or if he didn’t want to tell me, I don’t know.

It was then that the lady called my name for me to follow her. And so I got back upon my feet and began to walk in her direction, looking back at Durham as he continued to stare ahead of himself. I knew this conversation was far from over, but he didn’t really seem to care.

After following the lady again, we were soon back to the tree that I had cut down over an hour ago. I stared at her for a couple of seconds before I saw her point to the axe that I had dropped earlier. I looked at the axe and then back to her with an eyebrow raised.

“We need wood, mister James. It won’t simply fall of the tree,” She said. I stared at her for a few more seconds before letting out a huff of air. I picked up the axe again and began to chop at the tree again.

While it was much easier to cut the tree while it was on its stomach, my arms were still sore as hell. I could barely move them without feeling some sort of resistance. Thankfully, the lady told me that I wouldn’t need to cut down another tree for a month or so. The tree that I did cut down, however, was now nothing more than a large pile of broken down wood.

I carried every single piece to the charred out area where Durham was still sitting at. He didn’t say a word, not even a peep. Every time I walked away I heard him shuffling around, but when I turned around, I saw that he was holding his hands together in an iron grip, almost like he was trying to keep something away from himself. I thought he was cold or something, but this was before I knew what he was trying to do.

The lady, on the other hand, was simply watching me from a distance, her gaze had never been averted from me, her eyes not daring to move away from me. Not even once. Every time I looked at her, I always saw her eyes looking directly at me. I was a little creeped out a little, but got over it.

The one other thing I was always looking out for was that damn dog. I don’t know if you’ve ever been nearly chewed on, but trust me, it’s a frightening experience. I’ve gotten bitten by dogs before, some even from the k-9 unit, but I did not want to be on the receiving end of that dog’s teeth.

But after finally putting down all the logs, I sat down next to Durham and finally rested. The lady came walking up behind us, wiping away at the dirt on her dress, and stood there. We all just sat around and did nothing. We didn’t say a word to each other until I realized something.

“You know-” I said turning around to the lady, “- I never got your name,” She turned to me and looked deep into my eyes. She didn’t talk for about a minute, probably asking herself if I was worthy of knowing. But soon, the doubt in her eyes dissipated and she opened her mouth and told me.

“Mary Hitchcock,” She said briefly. Not really bothering to say anything else and turned back around to look at the horizon. After that, I didn’t say anything and there wasn't any talking for the rest of the evening.

A few hours later as we sait down in silence, I was on the verge of passing out and the sun was beginning to set. The bad part about is that I hadn’t eaten anything all day, and I could barely shut my eyes without having my stomach complain about not being feed. I was about to ask for some food or why we were all just sitting out here doing nothing, but then suddenly, through the thick trees, I saw two people lugging a rather large animal behind them. One of them was wearing a black cowboy hat.

“HOOOWWWWEEEEE, WE GOT OURSELVES A BIG ONE!” Said a rather familiar texan voice. Soon Durham got up and started to walk towards them with Mary following shortly after. I, on the other hand, didn’t bother moving. Instead, I decided to watch them from afar and observe their actions.

Durham was checking Howard for injuries, constantly being told to stop and help them move the thing. Mary was on the other being though, brushing off any dirt or grime that appeared on it. I couldn’t exactly tell who she was cleaning off and when they finally hauled the thing all the way over here, I got up off my ass and saw that the animal that they were carrying was one of those lion things. Its face had a massive gaping hole in it and blood that covered most of its body did not exactly look inviting. But as I looked back up, I could see a small girl being cleaned off by Mary. The girl was, Hispanic, short, early twenties, and was carrying a bow with a handful of arrows on her. Looking down at her, I noticed that she looked rather disgusted at the thought of carrying this lion. Her black hair was tied up into a bun and her small arms looked like they were struggling to keep the lion from slipping out of her hands. I assumed that this was 'Nicole’ that Howard spoke to the other day.

A moment later, they dropped the thing on the ground. Howard took in a huge gulp of air and panted a little bit before looking around, a smile curving on his face as he felt happy about his accomplishment. Soon, however, his eyes found their way to me and the smile on his face turned into a sneer. But he no later took his eyes off of me and he started to walk somewhere else. I eyed him a little bit longer but decided to let it go and turn back to the others. Durham had sat back down and Mary had continued standing back in her spot with 'Nicole’ joining her.

I sat back down on the ground with Durham and just waited. Occasionally I would glance at Nicole and see her staring at me but we had no other interactions. Nothing was said between the two of us. Not while we waited, not while we sat around the charred ground, not when Howard came back ten minutes later. Howard came back carrying three large, long branches, each thick enough to spike someone's head on.

He stuck two of the rather large branches into the ground and brought the third one to the lion. He then skewered the thing and tried to lift it. He failed and gestured for help. Again, I didn’t get up to help. Instead, the rest of the group came in to help lift the thing up from the ground and rest it on the two branches that was protruding from the soil.

After that, Howard grabbed a couple of logs that I chopped up and threw them underneath the now hanging lion before he got on his knees. He grabbed a bunch of dried leaves on the ground and a couple of loose sticks. He threw all but one stick onto the logs and began to rub on top of the leaves in a very fast motion with the one stick he kept.

About a minute later, a small little flame had spawned on top of the small pile of leaves and Howard threw them into the bonfire. Howard blew into it, added some more dry leaves, and did just about anything that could help the fire to spread. About a minute after that, and the fire had began to consume the logs and was rapidly spreading. And no sooner did we have a roaring fire caressing the fur of the animal above it and burning its skin with the smoldering caress.

I was holding a piece of black, burnt meat in my hands. It was so dark that I couldn’t tell if it was black meat or white. But either way, the others were enjoying the meal that they were given. They were practically howling it down. Everyone except Mary, who was delicately nibbling it, and Howard, who was too busy giving me the stink eye to truly enjoy the meal.

I ignored him though and just stared at the lion that was burnt to a crisp. Occasionally, I would see a drop of blood drip down off of its fur and land on the fire, giving the flames a sweat sizzling sound before it evaporated into thin air.

If you couldn't tell, I wasn’t exactly hungry. Not because my stomach was full, or because I was being stared at by Howard, but because the meat tasted like shit. The burnt crisp aftertaste didn't help elevate that doubt. I was a bit of an idiot back then for not realizing how little meat we would get.

“You should eat, James,” I was brought out of my thoughts at the sound of Durham’s voice. I looked up to him to see that he was staring at me sincerely and with a calm look on his face.

“This is probably going to be the last real meal we have for a while,” Durham's said, shortly biting straight into his meal. I looked back down at the piece of burnt meat in my hands and slowly inched it closer to my mouth. As soon as it touched my tongue, I felt like to vomiting. But I pushed it aside and took a mighty chomp of the flesh, chewing through the black rocks as I tried to swallow it It was terrible

I forced it down my throat, not even bothering to make sure it was fully chewed. Kathleen's cooking was better than that crap and her food was like trying to eat charcoal. But at least it had some spices. This thing though... I could hardly swallow it.

After my little encounter with swallowing the burnt piece of rubber, I put down the meat. I didn’t eat for the rest of the night. I couldn’t do anything so I just sat down quietly and waited for everyone to finish their meals.

Hardly even seconds later, there was a tremendous howl that reverberated through the forest. We all looked around us to find out where that howl came from, but we couldn’t see anything with how dark it was.

“Was that the dog?” I said, turning my head to Durham as his face began to turn into panic.

“No, that wasn’t the dog,” His said as his voice held nothing but fear in it.

Everything had crawled to spine twisting silence. Everyone looked around, but Howard on the other hand had kicked the lion off of its perch, almost making it land on me. I jumped to my feet and was about to yell at Howard until I saw him dragging the thing away from us I just stared at him for a second, wondering what the hell he was doing. But I was suddenly startled when I felt a hand land on my shoulder.

I turned and saw that Durham was looking at me with a terrified expression.

“James we got to go!” He said, turning around quickly before he began to run towards Mary and Nicole who were already halfway towards a rustic looking shack. I slowly turned my back to wherever Howard went to, and simply watched them, unsure of what the right choice is. But when I heard that deafening howl echo around me, I was more than enticed to run after Durham. During my run, I heard the eerie howl again getting even closer to the borrow, further implanting the fear I felt in my chest. And after a short while of running, I had caught up to Durham and began to run at his pace.

Durham’s frantic pants of transit panic was the only source of emotion that could be read on his apparent face. I, on the other hand, knew not of what to expect. I knew not if those howls were from those wooden wolves, those lion heads, or some other freak of nature. All I knew was that all of us were running towards what we hopped would keep us alive. In front of us, a small bit away, I saw Mary and Nicole swing the door to the shack open before they strode in. No sooner did me and Durham barge in interrupting the conversation that Marry and Nicole were having, Durham gasping for air as he rested against the wall.

I myself, looked to the other two that occupied the room with us. Mary, for the first time that day, finally showed some sort of emotion on her wrinkled face. But like the rest of her group, it only showed fear and despair at the situation we were in. Nicoles face perfectly mirrored Mary’s as she too only showed how much she was terrified. The only source of light being a small candle in the corner made it only harder to try and read her face.

But I couldn’t study their faces any longer because it wasn't soon after that Howard came through the door and slammed it behind him as he himself was resting his lungs. Howards hands were slathered in blood and his face had a grim look on it, as if he knew what was soon to happen. He soon pulled up to Mary and began to converse as secretly as he could. I would tell you what they said but I couldn’t hear them over the sudden sound of the dirt being ripped out of the ground. All of our heads turned to the direction of its sound, not even daring to make a noise out of fear of being heard.

Howard turned his head towards me for a few seconds, his eyes judging me as he looked me up and down. But when even more sounds of dirt and grass being ripped out from its home came closer to our sanctuary, he got down onto his feet and began to brush away some of the cluttered leaves that laid on the ground before he pulled out a familiar looking sniper rifle, a small piece of fabric covering the barrel.

Howard dared not look at me, but instead pulled out his pistol and handed it to Nicole, the sounds of the ripping ground still perpetuating throughout the wooden shack.

“Nicole, fire dat only if’n we miss,” Howard said, his voice barely above a whisper as he muttered to her. He soon took aim at the wooden door, adjusting his shoulder slightly as he tried to figure out how to hold the gun. Marry soon joining him on the ground and took aim at the door with my revolver. Not another word was said that day, not another emotion was shown, everyone as quiet as a mouse. The only sounds accompanying us were the sounds of the ground being torn apart as more dirt was ripped to shreds.

I myself tried to stay awake, to find out what it is that they feared so much at night, but my body was tired and demanded that I find rest. I began to sit down on the ground, telling my body that the sleep that it oh so desired was to come soon. After finding a relaxing spot on the ground and soft bark to rest my back on, I began to slip away from the world around me, allowing my mind to ever so slowly rest into sleep.