Page 61 of Trapped: Between Sky And Wind

He’s going to die without knowing the truth about his mom. He will die and I will be left alone. And all of this is my fault!

With the last of my strength, I climb the steep slope to the railroad tracks, and halfway up, I hear a train.

“No!” I yell, knowing I won’t make it in time to signal the engineer, but I still hurry uphill like a lunatic. “Stop! Stop!” I yell, cry, and curse. When I finally reached the tracks, the countless cars are already thundering by. A hot draft blows in my face and the draft from the train almost knocks me off my feet. I sink to my knees.

That was it, Lou!

By the time the next train comes by, it’ll be too late. Everything is too late! Bren will die.

Stunned by fear and terror, I slide down the slope, ignoring the pain in my body, and rush to Bren. I have to get him away from here. I have to take him with me somewhere where we can find water, to a village!

Without thinking of anything else, I grab his feet, cry and cry, pull, and barely move him two feet. He gasps in pain. I’m hurting him, but all I want is for him to survive.

“I’m sorry.” All merely words that don’t help. They come from my lips like a prayer.

“You’re still here,” Bren murmurs eventually, recognizing me.

“I’m not going away! Never!” I tug at his feet again, but this time he lets out a horrible, dark painful cry. I let go immediately, stroke his face, and talk him to sleep with beautiful words.

Darkness envelops me. It’s night again. I’m on the verge of exhaustion, unable to hold out much longer. I don’t know how I can still cry.

I walk a few feet from Bren so he won’t see it if he wakes up. How am I supposed to help him when I’m about to go nuts myself? I need to calm down, but I can’t. Trembling, I sink to the ground, draw my legs up, and put my head on my knees, closing my eyes. Pray, cry, pray, cry. I’m cold with fear, freezing cold.

A distant click snaps me out of my exhaustion. In the stillness of the night, it was as loud as a thunderclap. I jump up, at which moment a figure emerges from behind the fir tree—I see two dark eyes and the muzzle of a rifle.

Chapter

Fifteen

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” The young man in front of me has red and black war paint on his face, I can see that despite the darkness. A second man stands behind him in the darkness.

I raise my hands at the sight of the gun not knowing whether to rejoice or be afraid. “I… my friend and I…got lost.” Where I get the strength for this lie from I have no idea. “My name is Josephine. My friend…” I’m beginning to cry again. “He needs help.”

“This is Indian land. You have no business here.” With his chin tucked in, the man with the gun steps toward me and narrows his eyes at me. He looks anything but thrilled.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” I sob erratically and he lowers the gun, apparently no longer believing I’m a threat.

The other man standing behind him stares at me wide-eyed. Words in a foreign language flow from his lips that sound like anxiously spoken incantations.

“My name is Darrow.” The Indian with the gun introduces himself in a much friendlier tone and hangs the gun by its strap over his shoulder. “And this is Amarok. How long have you been in the area?”

I drop my hands awkwardly. “A day or two. We were on the freight train and lost our luggage.” I can reveal part of the truth. I glance at the other young man, who is still looking at me like he’s never seen a blonde girl before. “Hi!” I say, trying to smile disarmingly to break the ice between us, but I’m sure it’s only a frown. “I’m not on your land on purpose.”

“He doesn’t speak your language.”

“What did he say to you? It sounded like he was afraid of me.” Which wouldn’t be the worst thing because a tiny voice from last summer persistently tells me there’s two of them, and they are men.

Darrow quickly glances over his shoulder at Amarok. “He thinks you’re the deer woman.”

I stare at Darrow like an idiot. Maybe I’m dreaming all this. Maybe I’m lying half dead of thirst between the ferns hallucinating. “I don’t have fur,” I reply somewhat stupidly. At the same time, my hope for Bren grows. Darrow and Amarok seem to know the area well, after all, it’s their people’s land. They certainly know where the nearest town is.

“The deer woman story is a legend, but Amarok firmly believes it. He knows nothing but the wilderness and the early stories of the First Nations.”

“Oh. Tell him I’m just a normal girl.”

Again, I hear words that remind me of remote adventure lands. Seemingly unconvinced, Amarok shakes his head with pressed lips and steps back a few feet.

I smile at him again, but it has the opposite effect. With a hiss, he averts his gaze, covers his eyes with his hand, and utters sentences that clearly sound like a curse.

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