The Outcast and the Survivor: Chapter Three - Page 7

I smile at the thought of no longer running away from something, not that being in a place like Sanctuary doesn’t itself seem like hiding. The break will be nice, regardless of what awaits me and the mysterious item I carry.

We spend the rest of the day travelling between narrow canyons and across or around great pits of lava. It seems surreal at first, so much so that I fail to appreciate just how easily I could slip and fall to my death. That changes the instant a wooden plank below me slips while I am crossing a long causeway.

“Kaela!” I hear as I hold to some loosely hanging boards.

Wade is immediately there to help me as I glance down at the rocks below me. Had I fallen, I would have landed on a steep slope leading into a river of lava.

“I’ve got you,” he reassures, swiftly pulling me up.

“You need to be careful,” I tell him. “You’re starting to sound like someone who cares.”

He gives me smirk, and we carry onward.

We do our best to seek a place to rest when the light above fades, though we try to push as far as we can into the night using torches and the glow of the lava below us. There are little fissures and caves all around, and we make camp once we find one that seems undisturbed and somewhat out of the way.

Several days come and go, all of them passing by very slowly. Our pace is careful and deliberate. The distant plateau on the horizon that is Sanctuary grows larger and larger each time I get high enough to see it above the tall canyon walls. It is little wonder to me why Sanctuary remains as safe as it does. The journey there is one any force would have a hard time making, especially if there are guards defending it.

Finally, we come around a bend and see the first outpost, a small stone tower built into the walls of a lava-filled canyon. As we get closer, Wade stops moving.

“Something isn’t right,” he says quietly. “I’m not seeing anyone. There should be guards patrolling ahead.”

My mind jumps to the item I carry and all of the uproar surrounding my arrival, making me afraid that if something is wrong, my presence here is somehow to blame. I step closer to Wade in hopes it will calm my nerves.

“Well, what do we do?” I ask.

“Keep going,” he replies, “but stay right by my side.”

We cautiously make our way across a bridge and down another causeway that leads by the tower. Even at the outpost’s entrance, there’s nothing we can hear except our own breathing and the crackling of lava below us.

For the first time, Wade removes the metal object in his belt. It is a peculiar weapon, not a blade at all but rather something else with a hollow end. I try to imagine darts or small arrows coming out of it, but there doesn’t seem to be a spring anywhere on it for the launching of projectiles.

“Here,” he offers, handing it to me. “Think of it like a crossbow. Simply po

int the end at anything that comes at you and pull the trigger back. It will shoot out a small metal object so fast that it will go right through whoever attacks you.”

“Strange,” I say as I palm it with both hands.

“Wait here,” he then instructs. “I’m going to check inside.”

I haven’t been alone since Wade found me, so my eyes shift around nervously in every direction. I back out into the open as far as possible and try to keep my view clear to anyone or anything that might come at me, focusing mostly on the pathway beyond the tower, which leads into another canyon.

A clattering noise suddenly echoes out of the tower, and I turn that direction, pointing the weapon in my hands anxiously at the entryway. To my relief, Wade emerges by himself.

“They’ve vanished,” he exclaims. “Like they were never here.”

Tags: Trevor A. A. Evans The Outcast and the Survivor Fantasy
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