Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
"Don't beat yourself up. You wanted strength in numbers. It'd make sense normally. It's just…they don't behave like normal people. They might talk, but that doesn't mean they're civilized. You couldn't have known." I lean back to gaze up at him. "And I'm not sure they would have listened even if you told them to go away. You're the chosen one, remember?"
Corvak's expression remains solemn. "I just worry what will happen when this valley runs out of food. It's easier to feed a dozen mouths than a dozen's dozen."
It's the same worry I've had, too. We're going to run out of resources. It's not a matter of if but a matter of when. "Just be careful when you go out, all right?"
He nods and focuses his intense glowing eyes on me. "While I'm gone, I don't want you leaving the cave. For anything. They won't come in, and you're safe as long as you're in here. Understand me?"
I nod. As if I have a reason to leave anyhow? There's nowhere I want to be but this safe cave, with Corvak right beside me.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
CORVAK
It takes several days to trap the enemy.
Obviously stealth is not in my favor. Not with a flood of hooting, messy, stinking snow-people trailing me at all times. They will not be silent, no matter how many times I make the hand signal for quiet, so I think of other methods I can use in which to ensnare my enemy without killing him.
A pit trap seems the most logical. It simply requires grunt work and patience.
I scout the area for two days in search of footprints, ensuring that he remains nearby. His scent and his trail are all over the nearby valleys, but it does not seem that he has realized that Aidy and I are close. Our scents are likely masked by the snow-people and their overwhelming stink.
Once I establish the perfect spot for my pit, I bring the snow-people with me. We dig one night, and they are thrilled to be doing this for me. With a dozen flinging snow about, the narrow, deep trench is quickly built in the heavy snows. I cover it with some of the hard, crusty skins that we have been saving, the ones that we cannot figure out how to make soft like the ones we stole. Once the trench is masked with the skins, we pile snow atop them to hide the sight. When it's finished, the moons are almost gone from the sky and the trench itself is completely hidden. The snow here is churned, but that is not so unusual. Everywhere the snow-people go, they leave a trail of destroyed snow.
Satisfied, I plant the butt of my crude spear into the ground on the far side of the trench. When my enemy enters the valley, he will see it and wonder. Hopefully, he will approach it.
And then he will be snared.
The trench is just deep enough that he won't be able to climb out easily. Snow can be dug at, though, and if he shares the same memories I do, he will be crafty. I cannot leave the trench abandoned, then. I find a perch deeper into the valley, high in the rocks, and wait. The snow-people hover around me, making hiding impossible, but hopefully I will not need camouflage.
I need to capture him today. This is taking too much time.
The weather is cold this morning, the skies looking as if they are about to pour snow down upon us. My stomach growls with hunger, but I ignore it. There has been no time for hunting while I prepared my trap, and I hate that I am leaving Aidy alone for so long. She is the reason this must be done quickly. Whatever sickness has gripped her lingers, and she has not eaten much in the last few days.
It worries me. What do I do if she continues to grow sick? There is no medic here, no lab. I feel helpless, and nothing matters if I do not have Aidy. I cannot imagine playing this game without her. I cannot imagine leaving this game, because it would mean we separate.
There is no life after Aidy. I will be with her, or I will be done.
These morbid thoughts consume me as I wait for my prey. The snow-people hoot and snap at each other behind me, and two of them break into a fight. I hiss at them to stop, but there is no heat behind my gestures. I'm tired of them. Aidy jokes that they are an army of tantrum-throwing toddlers. I have never been around a small child, but if they are as unruly as this, it's a wonder that anyone breeds.
The hooting increases, and I turn to shush them again when one starts jumping and excitedly gesturing below us. I turn to look and someone is approaching the pit. They are covered in pale white furs, so I cannot make them out, but the size could be that of a gladiator. I make the "silence" gesture and the snow-people go quiet. I hold my breath, watching as the male below spots my abandoned spear, pauses, and then warily approaches it, his own at the ready.