On the first day, Jack has a hard time believing the “path” Altra claims to be following even exists. He constantly changes direction. The man must have lizard or spider in his blood with the way he climbs trees and scurries through the underbrush. Every so often he’ll move a little bit faster, only to leap and catch the lowest branch of a tree. He manages to reach the top of them before Jack’s eyes can even open from blinking. Apparently he’s more familiar with the canopy of the forest than its floor, somehow he uses the elevated sea of green to navigate.
Moon is also fast, but she’s easier to keep pace with. “This is the beginning of the Blind Wood.” She says at one point, helping pull Jack free from the nasty looking vine choking the palmetto patch they’d just picked their way through.
“How far back is his stash?” He asks rubbing section of stinging flesh the vine had managed to scratch.
“Farther than maps go.”
Altra is nowhere to be seen. Again. He seems to have a habit of forgetting that the two with him can’t keep his eager pace. They keep moving forward, he’ll materialize beside them unannounced and direct them in the proper direction before long.
The first bit of the delve into the woods had been all swamp. Somehow the only bites they’d managed to emerge from the black water and the sucking mud with had been mosquito bites. There had however been a couple of times with Altra’s hand would dart under the water and pull out a flailing moccasin, which he’d launch over the sawgrass enthusiastically.
Fortunately, all they had to contend with now was thicket, marshy is some places but not deep, and a pain in the ass to pick through. Jack would take seeing his feet and fighting with thorns than the uncomfortable ignorance demanded by a swamp.
They’ve been walking for a good thirty when Jack speaks again. “Do you know where we are?” He’s looking around for any sign of the man with the silent walk.
“Nope.” She motions forward and keeps moving, “but he was head this way.”
Thirty more minutes pass without a sign of the man, or a break in their silence. It is at this point that forest decides now is a good time for quiet as well. The constant symphony of the birds, squirrels, cicadas, and frogs ends abruptly. The only noise now is the leaves shifting under their boots, which sounds nearly deafening now.
Moon freezes, and motions for Jack to do the same.
A shadow darts between the trees up ahead. All shadows seem darker somehow. Something whistles from the hollow of tree to Jack’s right. There’s a thunking sound as something collides with the thick faded leather of his boot. Upon further inspection he finds a crude dart jutting from the shoe. Fortunately the steel lining had halted its path before it could prick his foot.
Immediately, upon looking up, another dart shoots from another direction and sinks into his shoulder. This one stops as soon as it meets bone. He’s already drawn his double barrel, sawn off shotgun and let spray of buckshot fire at the origin of the first dart. There’s a spray of bark and blood. Something collapses in the shadow but Jack is already sprinting toward the second shadow and doesn’t see what it is.
Moon Child, meanwhile, is moving with intent and manages to dance between three darts with ease. A fourth shoots into the back of her neck and she almost immediately collapses.
Jack is feeling sluggish, but he shakes it off and slides behind a tree. There is a man there. His fist catches Jack in the face unannounced, but Jack has him by the throat almost immediately and drags him gasping away from the clearing. Two more men step out from behind trees and raise long reeds. Another dart hits Jack. His vision starts to swim, but he manages to the lift the man up and throw him at one of the aggressors. He goes for his knife, but his muscles don’t want to react and he fumbles it. The blade falls useless to the ground. Drool pours down his chin. An unintelligible curse bubbles from his lips and a third dart lands in his thigh.
Jack falls hard into the blackness.
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