Page 18 of The Quiet
Why was it so much harder now?
She stopped struggling. The feeling of timelessness intensified as she inched toward The Quiet. As she looked at the mask of the ROSE, she could now see the curse behind it. Dark and loathsome, it twisted and coiled like a poisonous snake around the victim’s mind. She sensed that there was something imperfect about how it had settled on its host, like a strong tug in the right place would break its already imperfect hold.
She reached for it, extending her life like a hook as if she might filter past the curse and reel the person free. Instead, the curse uncoiled like a snake and bit her, Ella sucked into its nightmare by the venom.
CHAPTER 6
SNOW CROWNED KINGS
MORNING CAME LOUD and early as daybreak filled the caverns with layers of color and chaos. Baker was tugged through an ocean of bustling bodies as if this large collective organism were assembling around her. It was a powerful feeling, ushered through the tunnels until hands landed her in green grass at the mountain’s base.
She was relieved to see Khalid, directing others who expertly donned gear and saddled horses. The movements were synchronized even in the heat of the rush as an expression of the collective ROSE.
When Khalid was done directing the others, she gestured to Baker and the ROSE closest to her brought her close. Khalid knelt down with a mask fixed on top of her head.
“Go wait in the woods over there,” she said, directing her to a nest of trees and bushes. “If I’m not back and you hear fighting nearby, follow the deer path back just beyond the river on the other side of those trees. It should take you to familiar land. Get back to Fort Kit. Far away as you can.”
The rest of the group donned their masks. Baker slinked away, adrenalin racing as she pressed herself into the trees. The silence that followed was infinitely more frightening than the clatter, and Baker was unable to wait alone. The ROSE had seemed organized and calm, but the entire mountain was alive like a hiveof bees that someone had kicked. She had to know what was happening.
She pursued their path, but they were fast and soon she found herself immersed in that deep silence she’d tried to escape. Even the birds were quiet now.
A sound drew her to the light breaking in from the clearing just a few trees to her left, and she crept close to an old oak by the forest’s edge. She could see the face of the mountain from where she’d come. Her small fingers clung to the large grooves in between the bark as she peered past it.
At the opposite end of the valley, Baker spotted a group waiting on their horses. They looked like seven statues, completely still and dressed all in gray. The ROSE had moved as if to circle around the edge of the clearing.
Baker hugged the tree as she waited for the ROSE to leap out behind them, to assail them ferociously like they’d done to the young Strike in the woods. Her mind ballooned with heated questions.
Was the group she saw now just a group of scouts? Was it only a matter of time before a larger force emerged behind them?
Baker’s eyes darted back toward the now quiet mountain. It looked empty, but she knew that was not the case. She hugged the tree as one of the seven gray riders dismounted.
Cloak trailing behind him, he walked alone toward the mountain. He stepped over the tall grasses, somehow elegant despite the uneven terrain.
Baker waited for a ROSE to walk out and meet him, perhaps to discuss the source of this mysterious conflict. The mountain remained silent, and the man continued walking.
She wondered if he planned to make the entire trek on his own if someone didn’t come see him, but he stopped in the center of the field. He looked strange standing there, so small in the wide expanse and the towering presence of the mountains and trees.
He extended his cloaked hands up like a conductor as if he were worshiping the mountain. Perhaps he was beaconing for the ROSE to come out?
Baker eased her grip on the bark. Maybe all of the rustling around had been a precaution and she’d misunderstood the gravity of it all.
The man threw his arms down as if pulling on a heavy curtain. She wondered if he was frustrated by it, appearing lonely and vulnerable out there on his own. No one came to meet him, or even give any indication they were there.
The air grew still, breezes that once pushed through the trees and fields settling to a stop. Nature seemed to be holding its breath.
Baker jolted as the ROSE tore back through the trees like a herd of quiet deer. They seemed light footed despite all of the heavy gear. One slid to a halt as it reached her, removing a glove and placing a sweaty hand on Baker’s cheek as the others ran past.
Baker knew it was Khalid and could barely see her eyes flickering back and forth as she panted under the mask. She grabbed Baker’s wrist and yanked her out into the clearing. In full view ofboth sides, they were now running toward a group of ROSE on their horses that had emerged near the mountain, leaping over the thick valley grasses.
Yanking her mask off, Khalid lifted Baker on to a horse and fastened her to the saddle with rope. Khalid’s fingers trembled, though her diction and the strength of her actions were smooth and strong.
“What’s happening?” the nearest of the ROSE asked as the others stood silently behind him.
“It’s Peter’s Strike,” Khalid said back and Baker was struck by the sudden shift in the ROSE’s expression. The other’s behind him looked at one another, all removing their helmets in unison with a somber expression on their faces. Their eyes shifted to Baker as one ROSE in the far back scrambled off into the woods.
“Don’t forget us.” Leaning forward, Khalid planted a soft and intentional kiss on Baker’s forehead.
Several muted remarks urged everyone’s attention back toward the mountains but Khalid’s eyes did not follow them. Baker turned to see the sharp tops of the peaks blurring. While the others watched in confusion, Khalid wrapped Baker’s hands around the saddle. “Keep your head down,” she demanded, “hold on.”
