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The Selection Page 6
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"We better find him. If we let him go, he'll probably get one of us," the first boy said.
"Better to kill him first," the third one said. The shuffling around Eron stopped. They must've been listening for Bello's footsteps in the forest. Being so big and clumsy, he wouldn't be hard to track. Eron held his breath, hoping to conceal his location.
One of the boys stepped closer. Eron moved his arm slightly to avoid being stepped on and shifted leaves in the process.
"What's that?" the boy said.
"Shhh, we need to listen for him," one of them said. The boys stood motionless. Eron’s blood rushed in his ears. Any movement now meant he would reveal himself.
"I lost him," the boy said. He walked away from Eron to regroup with the others. There was a loud thud and a louder yell as Bello fell over a log.
"Over there!" one of the boys shouted and the three ran after him.
Eron let out a deep breath. Sweat ran down his face despite the chilly evening air. Any movement earlier could've been his last.
They're gonna kill Bello? He'd imagined doing it many times back in the colony. As much satisfaction as he thought it would give him, he still couldn't bring himself to kill him.
Several minutes passed before Eron moved from his spot. Even though he could hear them running away and the sounds of their footsteps faded, he wasn't taking any chances. They said they were going to kill Bello. That meant they'd do the same to him. It was too great a risk.
The brush gave him a false sense of security, though if they’d heard him, he would have been caught. It was like getting out from under a blanket in the dark of his room. It didn't provide shelter or real protection, but once removed, he felt vulnerable.
Darkness had settled over the forest and the pinkish light of the moon shone. Eron listened for strange noises in the forest, preparing to hide under the brush again. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary. He looked in the direction where the boys were headed, but couldn't see a thing.
Not wanting to be discovered by another roving group, Eron gathered branches and large leaves to create a better hiding spot in the undergrowth. Darkness would help, but the moonlight would give away anything not covered. After about an hour of preparation, he decided he'd done all he could do with what he had and crawled under his shelter, hoping it was enough to hide him from any predators.
Curled under the branches and leaves, Eron's mind drifted, hoping to comprehend what he was up against. If the goal was survival, it meant staying alert and ready at all times to do whatever was necessary to live. But that might mean hurting someone else, and he didn't think he could do that. Maybe if he was lucky, he wouldn't have to. He could try stealth and sneak around. It was better than confrontation. If Bello was running scared, how much more should he be worried?
Then his thoughts turned to Mina. Did she truly know what the Selection was about? Was she worried about him? Would he ever see her again? He hoped he would. Her beautiful gold eyes and long curly hair were burned in his memory. He admired her presence, so peaceful and confident. He had to endure to get back to her. What else did he have?
What about his mom? Why would she let them do that to her son...both of her sons? He punched the ground.
Timo.
She let them do this to Timo, and he was killed. Eron didn't see it happen, but the screaming began right after the alarm sounded. Like the boy next to Eron at the start, Timo must've turned to flee. Gunfire sounded and Timo's screams went silent. And their mom was all right with this?
Blood rushed to Eron's face, warming him.
Why? he thought over and over in his head. Why? He let the memories fade and the sounds of night took over. At some point, his eyes closed and he fell into a restless sleep.
CHAPTER 15
The next morning dawned bright and noisy. Animals of all shapes and sizes scurried around along the forest floor, up in the trees, and in the air. The sounds were soothing and the warm red sun comforted Eron as it woke him from his sleep.
For a moment, he forgot where he was and marveled at his surroundings. Listening to the sounds calmed him.
Then he remembered why he was outside. And why he should be very, very afraid.
Peeking out from his hiding spot, Eron looked for signs of intruders. He couldn't hear anything over the din of the waking forest. Hoping he wasn't giving himself away, he shifted out of the shelter and stretched. Bones and muscles came alive.
He checked around, but nothing was amiss. He ate a few haynuts he'd kept from the day before and decided to go the same direction as Bello and the boys; if he was following them, at least he'd know if they were coming towards him. He'd also be headed in the general direction he'd need to go to get out of the forest and end his time in the Selection.
In the distance, he heard voices. He didn't know if it was the boys he followed or another group. He paused, listening. The voices faded and he continued.
Eron saw some trampled leaves directing him towards where the boys went. Following the path cut through the trees and small shrubs was easy, even for someone as untrained in tracking as Eron.
Small furry gracers played in the treetops above. They jumped from branch to branch, swinging by their tiny paws. Purple fur zoomed overhead as they leapt from one tree to another. They were easy to spot among the orange and red leaves, though they were quick. Eron watched the pack. All gracer packs were led by the largest female, who ruled without mercy. Weak gracers were left to die. Most males were ostracized and only the strongest of them were allowed to remain. The rest were chased off by the females.
Eron watched them and felt much like the male gracers. He wondered if there was a lead female directing the Selection.
He went back to tracking. Soon, he'd be close to the boys and would need to decide what action to take, if any.
The rest of the day, Eron followed what he thought was the path created by the boys going after Bello. By the time late afternoon set in, he still hadn't found them and grew concerned that maybe he'd gotten off track somewhere.
Haynut trees were abundant and Eron pocketed some of the tasteless nuts. The day faded to twilight. An overhanging branch off the path would serve as his shelter for the evening. With a few extra branches laid across the open area, there was enough shelter and protection. He settled in, and as darkness came over the forest, he drifted off to sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night, he was awakened by laughter. Not two meters away from him were the three boys he'd been tracking.
"Ha, did you see his face when we ambushed him?" one of the boys said. He punched a tall blond-haired boy in the arm.
"Ouch. Dang it, Kumo, stop hitting me!" the blond boy said.
"Come on, Laird, it wasn't that hard," Kumo said. "Besides, you hit that kid a lot harder than that!"
All three boys laughed at Kumo's remark.
"Yeah, we got him good. His eyes were this big," the third boy said, making large circles with his hands.
"I know. It was awesome!" said Laird.
"Steen, did you see him wet himself?" Kumo said to the third boy, a shorter red-haired boy with a face full of freckles.
"Yeah. I almost had to stop, 'cause I was laughing so hard," Steen said. He made a motion towards the crotch of his pants. "It went everywhere!"
"Too bad for him, right?" Laird said. The boys nodded in agreement.
"It's better for us if we get rid of the rest. If we can make it to the end and eliminate our competition, we'll get the hottest girls and the best places to live. My dad told me that long ago," Kumo said. The boys quieted at the mention of Kumo's father. Many dads weren't around after their children were born. It was unusual to hear anything from them about the Selection.
"Your dad told you that?" Steen asked.
"Well, yeah, didn't yours?" Kumo said.
"No. My dad was long gone before I got to know him. He was called to the Anastasian Defense Force, Cape Rouge Division," Steen said. Laird nodde
d.
"Mine, too," Laird said.
Eron listened intently to their conversation. They shared so many similar life stories, yet unlike them, he had no desire to kill. What made these three so cruel? As much as he hated Bello, Eron hoped he wasn't who they were talking about. It would be a shame if they got to him before Eron did. Not that he would kill Bello, but he planned on hurting him in some way if he could. Out here in the forest, there were no rules, no social conventions to stop violence. In fact, it was applauded and celebrated. The stronger you were out here, the greater chance of survival.
Eron moved his foot to scratch a sudden intense itch and shifted some leaves.
The boys shut up immediately.
"Hear that?" Laird said. "I told you someone was following us."
The boys remained silent. If they were any closer, Eron knew they'd hear his heart thumping in his chest. He tried holding his breath to keep quiet. When he exhaled, the still of the night betrayed him and one of the boys heard him.
"Over there! I heard someone breathing!" Kumo said. The boys walked straight towards Eron. He was about to reveal himself and beg for mercy, when a loud crash overhead stopped the boys in their tracks.
Streaks of green lightning raced across the black sky. Boom after boom reverberated throughout the forest.
"A storm," Steen said. "We need to get into the cave we found. Getting caught out here is suicide."
Kumo looked around once more. Eron thought for sure he'd been spotted when Kumo stared directly at his shelter. When the lightning flashed again, the boy's face was pure anger. His eyes seemed to glow as they peered right at him.
"Come on, Kumo, if that rain gets us, we're done for," Steen said. They ran off in the forest.
Steen was right. Eron knew the rain was dangerous, at least to human flesh. It was fine to drink after it pooled in ponds and lakes, but it was like acid as it rained down and landed on human skin. It burned and there was no way to remove it. The early colonists found out how dangerous it was after they landed here. It wasn't until the discovery of the planet's natural filtration system that the colony could thrive.
Eron knew if he didn't find shelter from the coming storm soon, he'd be as dead as the boy the others were talking about. Not caring if they caught him, he rushed from his hiding spot. He had no idea where to go. His only hope was to stumble onto a cave like the boys did.
Rushing through the dark forest, Eron pushed through thick shrubs and low-hanging branches. His face was hot as blood trickled along his chin where the tree branches scraped him.
Eron started to turn away from the approaching storm clouds and fell into a deep hole. He landed awkwardly, twisting his ankle.
"Oww!" he yelled, clutching his ankle. The sharp pain shot through his entire body. Writhing, he could hear the loud booms of thunder growing closer. Up above, streaks of green crossed the sky. He had to get moving again. When he tried to stand, the pain was too great. His ankle wouldn't support his body weight.
"No, no, no, no!" he said. He had to get out. He had to move. Sitting still would be his death. Crawling on his hands and knees, Eron scrambled out of the hole. There was nowhere to go. The thunder boomed again, startling him. It was much closer now.
He spotted a pithing tree nearby. The large leaves and thick branches created an opening large enough for him to be able to fit in. He crawled his way toward it. When he reached the low-hanging branches, the thunder grew in intensity. He dug into the ground. His hands ached and burned, but he couldn't stop. The storm was closer now. Lightning cut across the sky, and thunder boomed louder and louder.
Hoping to survive the storm, he crawled underneath the giant leaves just as the rain started pouring down.
CHAPTER 16
The deadly rain continued for hours. Some of it dripped between the broad leaves overhead, but for the most part, Eron managed to stay clear. Small red pools gathered on the ground around him. Once the rain made contact with the surface of the planet, the toxicity evaporated and was no longer a danger to human flesh. Still, Eron took no chances. He was too far away from medical help to risk acidic burn.
When the sun finally rose, the rain stopped. The red dawn was bright and cheery in stark contrast to the dreary, deadly rain, and the life or death situation Eron found himself in.
South, Eron thought. I have to go south. That's where the promised land is. It seemed so far away. Here and now, deep in the forest with both humans and nature against him, the promised land seemed unreal. But it was his only hope. Going south was his chance to live...assuming he survived the forest.
Eron rested under the tree until midday when the red sun had burned most of the rain away, leaving the air thick and heavy. He needed to get moving if he wanted to make it to Victory Point.
When he stood, Eron found walking difficult because of the tumble he'd taken the night before. He leaned on his stick for support and limped on, hoping not to cross paths with the boys or Bello.
Eron found a fast-moving stream and drank of the cool red water. With his eyes closed, he savored the liquid, letting the refreshing chill invigorate him. He opened his eyes as some shrimp swam by. Other than their size, they were nothing like the shrimp on Earth. The early colonists couldn't think of another name to call the small creatures with two large tails and ten legs. The tiny creatures darted around the bed of the stream, rolling pebbles and sticks toward the banks. They climbed out of the water, pushing the pebbles and sticks against mud structures that were formed along the far side of the stream. There were four of them in a row standing about ten centimeters tall. Eron wondered what they were.
He watched them as he sipped the cool water, wondering how easily he'd be able to catch one to eat. When he dipped his hand in the water, they scattered and he realized they were probably too quick.
He heard shouting in the distance. Jumping up and ignoring the pain in his ankle, Eron strained to hear the voice.
"Help!" someone yelled. "Help me! They're trying to kill me!"
Eron hesitated. He was in no shape to help anyone, but he thought of Timo. What if Timo had called for help and no one came? His brother screamed softly inside his head.
Using his stick to stay upright, Eron wobbled towards the commotion, trying to stay hidden and as quiet as possible.
"Help!" he heard again and again. When he was close enough to take a peek without being observed, he gaped at what he saw.
There was a boy clinging to the branches of a tree. Craates circled below, snarling and snapping their jaws. But the craates weren't what caught Eron's attention. It was the boy.
He was blue. With dark green hair.
Everyone in the colony had fair skin. Hair colors ranged from red to yellow to orange, and even brown, but never green.
And never blue skin.
The boy clung to a branch that sagged under his weight. To Eron, it looked like a matter of time before the craates would have their prey. Desperation in the boy's cries for help forced Eron into action.
Three craates waited at the bottom of the tree. Eron used his stick to rustle the bushes around him. The craates stopped and turned his way. He made another noise with his stick and one of the craates approached with fangs bared, staying low to the ground. Saliva dripped from its mouth with each step.
As the craate poked its head in the bush, Eron brought his stick down hard. A sickening crunch sounded as the stick collapsed its skull. It was dead in an instant.
One of the other craates whined, then ran snarling toward Eron. It leapt over the bush, surprising him, and crashed into his shoulders, knocking him to the ground. It snapped at him with large yellow fangs. Eron held it by the neck and squeezed. It thrashed back and forth, trying to bite his hands. Eron's knuckles turned white as his grip around its neck held. The eyes of the beast narrowed while Eron's hands closed tighter and tighter around its neck.
It snapped at Eron's hands, but they were out of reach. Just as Eron thought he'd killed it, the
third craate bit his leg and he let go. It fell to the ground next to him, gasping and pawing wildly.
A sharp pain radiated from the bite and Eron screamed, holding his leg. Another sudden bite sent more sharp streaks of pain through his leg. Eron kicked, trying desperately to get the thing away from him.
The craate next to him regained its strength and leapt on him, pinning Eron to the ground. It growled as it stood over him and snapped at his face. Eron pushed against its chest, holding it back, but his grip weakened as it strained to bite him.
He heard a yelp near his legs, and out of the corner of his eye, Eron saw the craate that had been beside him go flying. The one above him snapped at his nose, missing by a centimeter or two. Then its eyes rolled back and the body went limp in his hands. He tossed it aside and saw the blue boy with a bloody knife in his hands.
"You all right?" he asked Eron.
Hot, searing pain shot through Eron's leg.
"Yeah, just got bit; that's all. Hurts, but, you know. It goes away."
"Thanks for the help. They surrounded me and I dropped my knife so I climbed up the tree. I had no idea how to get away. Thanks so much!"
The boy paused and pointed his knife at Eron. "Hey, wait. You're not one of them, are you? Those boys trying to kill me? I'll gut you right now if you are!"
"I heard you calling for help and came to see what I could do. I'm not gonna hurt you, I swear!" Eron said. He held up his hands to show he meant no harm.
The boy scowled, then sheathed his knife and extended his hand to help Eron up.
"You try anything, and this knife will go in your belly," he said patting the sheath. Eron nodded.
"My name's Phelan. What's yours?" he said.
"Eron. My name is Eron. I'm here for the Selection. Why are you here?"
Phelan smiled. "The same thing. What are you, dense?"
"No. It's just...I've never seen anyone like you before."