Filed To Story: Sunrise on the Reaping Book PDF Free
Maysilee drains some of the liquid into a heart-shaped glass vial that hangs from one of her necklaces. “It’s designed for perfume, so it’s got a good tight lid to prevent evaporation. Just wish it held more.” She twists the tiny lid back on the heart. “How’d she die anyway? Lou Lou?”
“Inhaling bee balm,” I say. “Ampert told me about Wyatt.”
“He was trying to shield her. When he died, she ran away. I tried to follow her, but I lost her at the mountain.” She wipes her bowl with some leaves. “I wonder what they’re thinking back home. Bet everyone’s rooting for you.”
“Maybe before the gong, but not anymore. You’re the one who tried to stick with the Newcomers. I know I’d be rooting for you.”
“Trying’s not doing.”
“No, but it sure beats not trying.” Of course, I have been trying to accomplish any number of things that I’m sure never made it on air. But trying wasn’t doing there either. At least, I know which way to head now. Maybe at the hedge, I’ll be able to get some doing done.
We hike along in silence, keeping an eye out for Careers, Newcomers, and mutts, but meeting no one. Sometimes we pass a casualty of the flooding . . . trees that drip blood instead of sap . . . a gaping hole where something exploded, leaving a slimy clear liquid coating everything in its vicinity . . . a stump that belches sulfurous, glowing gas . . . all of which we give a wide berth to.
I stop to examine a trio of dead fox mutts, fur as orange as sunset, who appear to have died eating poisonous eggs.
“What do you think those things were designed to do?” I ask.
“Steal our food probably,” says Maysilee.
Or eat us,
I think.
Like the squirrels. Who knows? Maybe those were programmed for me.
Around midday we reach the hedge. “It’s a maze.” I tell Maysilee. “No point in trying to outsmart it. It’ll spin you around for miles.”
“What’s your plan?”
“My plan is, we cut straight through it and take a gander at what’s on the other side.” I drop my pack to the ground, roll up my sleeves, and pull out my long knife.
Maysilee surveys the hedge – its height, its length – then steps in closer for a look at the holly leaves and speckled berries. “Something’s not right about this hedge.” She looks back over her shoulder, considering what’s behind us. “But that’s nothing new.”
“I was in it for hours yesterday, and the worst I got was lost. I think that’s its purpose,” I reassure her.
She sets down her pack and pulls out the dagger she got from Barba. We slip through the opening and take advantage of the ten feet of straight path, then stop as it begins to curve into the maze. I square my shoulders so I’m facing true north. “Here. This is where we should go in. Probably the faster the better.”
“Gotcha.” Maysilee steps up beside me. “On three?”
I nod and we count together, slowly raising our weapons. “One, two, three!”
We bring down our blades simultaneously, slicing cleanly through the greenery. But we’ve barely finished our first strokes when dozens of the holly berries pop off their stems and swarm up our arms. We both give a holler and begin brushing them off.
“What the hell are these?!” I exclaim.
“Ladybugs!” says Maysilee.
Ladybugs? I lift my hand to examine one. It’s a ladybug, all right, or pretty near. All up and down my arms, the creatures latch on to the flesh. Within seconds, they inflate to the size of acorns and begin exploding, splattering my face with my blood.
Maysilee has already fled the hedge, and I hightail it out after her. Both of us scream our heads off, running in circles as we try to claw the things from our skin. Once they’ve attached those tiny hypodermic needle mouths, they’re stubborn as all get-out.
“Pluck!” Maysilee orders me. “Pluck!” She dances in place but has settled enough to be pinching each ladybug and yanking it straight out.
I follow suit. The suckers are dug in deep, akin to those on a really determined tick. If I get a grip up near the head and pull firmly and slowly, they pop out in a spray of blood. Planting my feet on the ground to steady myself, I mutter, “Bug by bug . . . bug by bug . . . bug by bug . . .” as I pluck away at my arms, my neck, my face. I strip off my shirt and pants, but only a few made it beneath the loose fabric. When I’m largely vermin-free, I go to work on Maysilee, who, sleeveless, has had the worst of it. “Bug by bug . . . bug by bug . . .”
She’s trembling all over and, what do you know, so am I. “Bug by bug . . .” we chant together. “Bug by bug . . .” When all the visible ones are gone, she strips down to her underwear, too. “My back?” Yeah, there’s another half dozen there. I’m light-headed and want to sit down, but I don’t stop until every bug’s dead and gone.
“Okay, you’re clean,” I tell her. “You’re all clean.” We both slump to the ground, pale and drained in our bloody skivvies. Parched, I dig in my pack for the water and insist she drink first. “I’m sorry, this was my fault. Talking big like I knew what was in there. I swear, none of them bothered me yesterday.”
“I don’t think the Gamemakers want us going through that hedge,” Maysilee observes.
I nod. “Message received.”
“How much blood do you think we lost?” she asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe a cup or two?” A rogue ladybug explodes behind my ear, making me woozier. I pull the three beef strips out of the pack and hand them to her. “Here. Get some iron in your blood.”
She divides them in half. “Fifty-fifty.” As we eat, she comments, “Your plan is not sustainable.”
I look at her sawing away at her jerky with her pocket-knife and homemade fork, and can’t help laughing a bit. “No, it certainly is not.” My head’s too muddled to come up with a new plan. All I can do is stretch out on my back and stare at the perfect azure-blue sky. “I can’t seem to think straight.”
“Me either.” She rustles in the pack. “Do you like olives?”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.