Marysvale by Jared Southwick Read Free Book Online Page A

smoke.
    I woke in a panic and found Smoke
gently licking my cheek with a big, wet tongue. I reached up and
stroked his muzzle affectionately, while trying to banish the dream
from my thoughts. “What time is it?” I muttered, knowing I would
get no answer other than another big lick on the cheek. Somehow,
hearing the sound of my voice brought me comfort. It helped me
realize the whole world hadn’t gone dark and silent, at least not
entirely. The clouds had darkened even more during my restless
slumber, bringing the smell of impending rain and making it
difficult to tell how long I had been asleep.
    With a sigh, and some protest from my
aching muscles, I slowly lifted myself off the ground and picked
the direction that looked most west to me. After tacking up Smoke,
and with reins in one hand and the crossbow in the other, I set off
on foot, still trying to give him as much rest as
possible.
    The rain started to fall lightly. In
response, I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head and did my
best to wrap it tightly around myself, just in time for the rain to
intensify. In this condition, we spent the remainder of the day
traveling.
    When the light eventually began to
fade, so did my promise to find something edible. I found it
strange not to see another living creature all day, not even a
squirrel or a bird.
They must be seeking shelter from the
rain
, I reasoned. My stomach growled, as I sought in vain for
anything to eat—edible plants, fallen nuts, or a berry bush—even
the remains of a dead animal would have been savored.
    We stopped for the night when the
forest grew so dark that sight beyond a few yards grew impossible.
At first, my cloak had kept me dry; but after hours of rain, I had
grown miserably wet and cold. It started with my breeches,
undergarments, and boots, then steadily worked its way up to my
shirt until I was soaked to the skin and shivering uncontrollably.
I huddled at the trunk of a large maple, as the night slowly
progressed and the temperature plummeted.
    I tried everything to get warm, from
hugging Smoke (who refused to lie down on the wet ground with me),
to leaning against the tree. Ultimately, I settled under the
partial protection of a white pine with my arms wrapped around my
knees.
    The woods were silent, except for the
soft, never-ending sound of raindrops falling on foliage. In the
total blackness of the night, my mind began to wander, and I
thought about the complete and utter isolation of the deep forest
enveloping me. If something happened, no one would be around to
help; if hurt, no one would hear my screams. I thought of the
soulless creature in the moonlit mist. Could I kill it if I had to?
If not, would it kill me quickly or would it be slow and
painful?
    The mental exercise just made things
worse. Shaking now from both chill and fear, I retrieved the
crossbow. I also grabbed the musket, even though I wasn’t sure it
was dry enough to fire.
It would still make an effective
club
, I reassured myself. I crouched back down and resumed my
position, as well as the torturous thoughts of hunger, loneliness,
and the beast. After what felt like an eternity, the rain
eventually stopped and, shortly thereafter, the blackness of the
night began its retreat to the light of day.
    When I was finally able to see more
than a few feet in front of me, we resumed our march. Again, I
walked. This time it wasn’t so much for Smoke as it was an attempt
to warm my own stiff and tired body. However, before long,
exhaustion overcame me, and I climbed onto Smoke, spreading my damp
cloak over his back, which made me look something like a tent atop
a horse. I hoped the heat from his body would rise, get trapped in
the cloak, and generate some warmth.
    As the day wore on, the clouds again
darkened, and soon the rain resumed. By the time the light started
to fade, I was once again shivering beyond control. I removed the
pack, saddle, and bridle from Smoke, trusting he wouldn’t wander
off too far, or get