«Don’t Stop»

Chapter 4 — “Don’t Stop”

— Khh… khh… khh!.. — below, by the fire, someone coughed in their sleep.

The fire was far away, but the wind still carried the heavy, burned air here.

And the stench.

Michael no longer saw the campfire or the people around him. Something else rose before his eyes. Heat. Unbearable heat. Fire. The crackle of burning wood. And his mother’s hand, twitching in the flames beneath the collapsed roof of her own house.

— Wake up! Quickly, move! — Michael shouted and abruptly began climbing down.

Bert, standing with his mouth open, recoiled and almost fell after him.

The people, who had barely managed to rest at all, rose in panic, looking around as if danger might leap out from any corner. Michael’s face had changed. There was no trader left in his voice, nor the old hunter from before.

Only hardness.

— Gather your things quickly. No time for questions. We’ve already stayed here too long. We’ll go through the bridge.

The group hurried to put out the fire, trampling the coals and gathering their things. They tried not to look at the boy who had been pulled from the rubble — they avoided him.

— Well! Why are you dragging your feet like sleepy flies? Move out!

— Why are you so worked up? What happened? You can see we’re gathering. There’s no threat yet…

— I see you know how to give orders… — Bert muttered as he climbed down. Then he looked into the distance and added more quietly: — Though he’s right. We don’t have much time.

When they stepped outside, all conversation died by itself. Black columns of smoke were rising above the forest. Too thick. Too close. Many lowered their eyes at once. Someone slowly sank to their knees. Someone quietly spoke their mother’s name.

Michael looked at them for several seconds. Then he spoke more calmly:

— There is no time for grief. We need to leave. If we delay, we’ll be next.

He turned and walked forward, carefully stepping over the debris, with the boy on his back.

— Heartless… — someone cried out sharply. — Our home is there. They need help…

Michael stopped. Slowly turned around.

— I’m heartless? — he asked calmly. — I’m not heartless. But I’m not brainless either.

Michael shifted his gaze into the distance, toward the smoke.

— Sarah isn’t stupid. If she holds out, she’ll manage. If not, she’ll get out whoever she can.

— The way back will take a day. And with chaos in the forest and creatures running toward us, even longer. And if we do make it, those barbarians will crush us with numbers and won’t even notice. And you young ones right there, they’ll…

Breathing out, Michael continued more evenly:

— Anyone who wants to can go back. I’m going to the Ravens’ settlement. We need to prepare for refugees. And for defense. And that’s considering everyone there is barely standing because of the sickness.

His sharp gaze passed over each dissatisfied face.

— Or does someone have a better plan?

Heads lowered. Pain squeezed their chests, feeding resentment and disagreement, but Michael was right. There was simply nothing to answer with.

— I know this part of the ruins. I’ll get there myself, — he added, and was already about to move on when an uncertain voice sounded behind him:

— There is… a suggestion…

Michael turned around. It was Luka, the guide.

— Well?

— I’ll go with the healers and two inexperienced guards — Morgan and Arthur — to the Ravens’ settlement through the half-ruined bridge. We need to warn the people… and bring the herbs.

From the tension, thick saliva became a lump in his throat, and he swallowed.

— And you, with the others, will help those who managed to leave the camp. Beyond the walls, you’re an experienced hunter… This way our people will have a better chance to survive and be safe.

By the end, his voice had almost disappeared. Michael was silent for several seconds. Then he cursed quietly:

— To hell with you…

— How did you say it? Stubborn as a Tetu? That’s exactly about you.

Carefully lowering the boy to the ground, he threw Luka a pouch of herbs from his belt bag.

— Lose it, and I’ll dig you out from under the earth.

Then he looked around:

— Simon, Bert, Kas, Rolf. I hope I got the names right. You’re with me? You agree with the lad?

— You’ve saved our hides more than once these past few days, — Simon said. — I’m with you.

Bert nodded silently. The others, even while arguing, split in opinion, but did as they were told. The group quickly divided.

— On the broken bridge, don’t watch your feet as much as above you, — Michael added after them.

The young ones picked up the boy and ran toward the bridge. Luka and the healers followed them. The others turned toward the forest.

— We need to climb onto a building, — Michael said while already moving. — If the beasts rush through the forest, they mustn’t catch our scent. We’re lucky the wind is still blowing the other way.

— We’ll wait a little. If the fire doesn’t spread to the forest, we’ll start searching.

The group moved along the ruins. And then Michael noticed something strange. Something metallic hung from the branches. Rusty. Light. It swayed in the wind and rang softly. A beast that had just darted from the bushes twitched at the sound, sharply turned aside, and vanished between the houses.

— Hmm…

— Strange… Very strange.

— What exactly? — Bert asked.

— That the ones who followed us last night didn’t catch up.

He looked back at the road, then at the forest.

— We barely went any distance from here…

He thought for a second.

— Or maybe they weren’t chasing us at all.

— What do you mean? — Kas did not understand.

— Maybe they thought Sarah left with us. And when they realized she wasn’t there, they turned back.

He looked toward the smoke.

— Then everything falls into place.

Again, silence. Everyone quieted, listening to the rustling in the ruins to the side.

— Bert, did you notice?

— What?

— The scraps of iron.

— I noticed. So?

— We need to collect more of those and hang them along the road. When we come back, there will be fewer beasts.

Bert smirked.

— Now that’s a head… And I didn’t figure it out… — turning to the young ones, he shouted: — Hey! You get the hint?

They nodded and began gathering everything that could ring.

— And we’ll climb up for now, — Michael said.

The young ones immediately started hanging scraps of iron on the branches. A quiet ringing drifted along the street.

— Are you scared? — Kas asked Rolf quietly as they walked toward the building.

— Of course I’m scared, — he answered. — But the beasts don’t care about us right now. They’re saving their own hides…

— Though… maybe we really should have gone with Luka.

A couple of hours passed. The forest still had not caught fire. From the third floor, where the walls had partly collapsed, they could see animals running out of the forest. From different sides. Chaotically.

Like ants from a torn-open anthill.

— Want an apple? — Kas called to Michael, returning with Rolf.

— Where did you get that? — Michael snapped. — What were you doing there — looking for food or hanging iron?

But his hand still reached for the apple.

— Found it in a ruined building, — Kas shrugged. — There’s a bunch of junk there… cans, scraps of iron, animal bones… and a tree growing. A fruit tree. We stocked up a little.

Kas smirked.

— Udgal only knows how long we’ll be stuck here.

He held out the apple.

And at that moment, everything happened very quickly. Michael jerked forward, grabbed Kas by the head, and slammed him hard into the floor, falling beside him himself.

A whistle.

An arrow flew within several Castsof the young man’s head and struck the wall with a dull thud.

For a second, everyone froze.

Michael turned onto his side and stared at the arrow.

Familiar.

The same kind hung at Sarah’s place. By the fireplace. Beside the bow.

Michael clenched his teeth.

— Have you completely lost your mind down there?! — he shouted without getting up.

— Michael? — came from below. — What are you doing there? You were supposed to be at your settlement by now.

Michael breathed out.

— Helping you.

Several people carefully rose and approached the edge. Sarah was coming out of the forest.

— Is that all? — she shouted, lifting her gaze upward. — Where are the others?

— The others went to the camp!

Sarah waved her hand. People began coming out of the forest. Old people. Young ones. Wounded. Many had stuffed bags over their shoulders…

Those who had managed to leave.

— Coming! Climbing down! — Michael shouted.

Turning to Kas, he patted him on the shoulder a couple of times.

— Alive?

The young man only nodded, still not fully understanding what had happened. The group that had stayed with Michael quickly climbed down. Rolf, Kas, and the healer Ellen immediately scattered — searching for their own among those who had come out of the forest. Michael went straight to Sarah.

She stood a little aside, leaning on her bow. Her face was gray, her eyes tired, but she was holding herself together.

— You got hit hard… — Michael said. — How many are left?

Sarah breathed out heavily.

— I don’t know… You can see for yourself. I think not even half. A hundred people… maybe a hundred and twenty…

Michael nodded.

— What happened? Why is the camp burning? Are they pursuing you?

— Don’t rush me… Let me catch my breath…

For a second, she closed her eyes, then continued.

— I don’t fully understand it myself… After you left, everything went quiet. For a while.

— And then… the nightmare began.

She pressed down on the bow, and it bent slightly.

— Khemars appeared inside the camp. Not outside — inside.

Michael frowned.

— Not thrashing around… They struck precisely. At the guards. At the walls. As if they knew where to go.

— And while we were dealing with them… someone opened the gates. At dawn.

Michael breathed out slowly.

— And Strend’s people broke through?

Sarah nodded and ran a hand over her face.

— After that, everything was like a fog… I remember being dragged across the ground… then nothing.

— I woke up from cold water. What remained of the guard was holding the attack. They told me to leave.

— I gathered whoever I could. The rest… are buying time.

— Yeah… — Michael said quietly. — Good thing we turned back…

He turned around, walked to a rusty yellow bus, and easily jumped onto its roof. He looked around. People stood wherever they had stopped. Someone was crying. Someone simply sat on the ground. No one was listening.

— Listen! Everyone, listen!

No reaction.

And suddenly — a sharp voice:

— Everyone who wants to survive — listen!

It was Sarah. People began turning around.

Michael nodded and spoke:

— I can see you’re tired. None of you have strength left.

He swept his gaze over the crowd and, after a pause, continued.

— Among us are old people. Children. Wounded.

— I know many of you left family behind there.

— And you want to go back, but you cannot.

— So leave your grief to Udgal.

More quietly, but harder:

— And whatever remains — keep it inside. Let it move you.

Several people lifted their heads.

— There are too many of us. We won’t reach the Ravens’ settlement quickly.

— The short way through the bridge is a bad option. Open ground. Fragile bridge.

— We’ll go around. Through the old abandoned Ravens’ settlement.

— There are dismantled wagons there. Some food. That will give us a chance.

— Not everyone will make it.

The silence became heavier.

— But if we stay, no one will make it.

He looked toward the back rows.

— Those who walk last — tear down the metal traps we hung. Let the path behind us not be empty, but filled with forest creatures.

Michael jumped down from the bus.

— Catch your breath for a couple of minutes, and then we move.

— Everyone heard that?! — Sarah shouted sharply. She stood straight, as if her strength had returned.

— Old people — forward! Children behind them! At the rear — those who can hold a weapon!

She looked over the people.

— Keep your eyes open!

Now her voice held everyone.

After a few minutes, the column moved. Ahead were several hunters. With them — Michael and Sarah. The others followed.

Slowly.

But without stopping.

— I’m glad you’re here, Michael… — Sarah said quietly, without slowing her pace. — But you still haven’t explained what you were doing here. If you had been moving at a normal pace, you wouldn’t have seen the smoke and turned back…

Michael scratched his curls, breathed out, and began telling her what had happened over the past days. Either to pass the time, or to keep Sarah from sinking into her thoughts.

By evening, the column reached the river. Not far from the half-ruined bridge. The people stopped, huddling together, waiting for a decision.

— This is not a rest stop, — Michael said loudly. — We’ll rest on the other side. If you relax now, we won’t move again without a good rest.

Picking up a long branch from the ground, Michael looked at the river.

— Take ones like this. We go through the water. Check the bottom.

— In places it’s shallow here. A little above the knee.

— This will break the trail.

Looking over the people, he began speaking louder.

— We go in groups. Watch each other. Don’t rush.

Sarah silently stood beside him.

— Don’t relax, — Michael added more quietly. — The real problems are ahead.

They began crossing in groups of ten. The water was cold. The current was weak, but treacherous. Every step had to be felt out.

With cramps in their legs, short stops, and pain in their knees and feet, they crossed. When they climbed onto the bank, they moved a little farther away and set up a rest and night camp.

Without a fire.

— Sarah, where are you going? — Michael called.

She was already walking among the people. Stopping. Looking. Speaking.

— You need to rest too, — Michael said, catching up to her. — Otherwise you’ll collapse.

Sarah did not stop.

— Change clothes and share food, — she said, moving between groups. — Don’t sleep in wet clothes. If someone has nothing — share.

She repeated it again and again.

— Go rest, — Michael said. — I’ll walk through myself.

— I don’t need pity… — Sarah answered sharply. — I can manage.

— What pity? — he snapped irritably. — Do I have to carry you on my back tomorrow?

Sarah stopped. For several seconds she stood silently.

— Forgive me… I’m just tired.

After that, she stepped into the center and sank to the ground among the others. Around them, it was quiet: fear, shame, hunger, the cold of the approaching night. No one knew what tomorrow would bring.

The night passed heavily. Sarah woke among the last. Michael was already on his feet — giving orders and helping bury those who had not survived the night.

The wounded.

The weakened.

There was nothing to dig with, so the graves were made of stones — small, quiet.

It had been a hard night. And even if the people had had any strength left, no one would have slept anyway.

Sarah rose. Mechanically, she felt an apple in her pocket and frowned — she did not remember putting it there.

Then she remembered.

Kas.

She squeezed the apple in her palm and went to Michael.

— Again… forgive me for yesterday. And thank you, — Sarah said.

She broke the apple in half and held one half out to Michael.

— Where next?

Michael took the apple and nodded toward the forest:

— Next — through the swamps. It isn’t far there. And then we’ll get out.

Sarah froze.

— Have you lost the last of your Raven brains?!

Several people turned around. She lowered her voice:

— Tumargs live in the swamps. We’ll all die there.

Michael calmly finished his piece of apple.

— Yeah. And the ones chasing us will think the same…

— So they won’t go. I know what I’m doing.

Sarah fell silent.

— Right now the main thing is inspection, — he continued. — Wash the wounds, bandage them so they don’t smell of blood.

— We go strictly behind me. In one line. Quietly.

It took several hours to prepare. They checked one another, bandaged the wounded, divided the remaining food. Only after that did they move.

Michael walked in front. The forest met them with damp cold, and almost immediately the swamps began — viscous, green, alive. The smell of rot and moisture hung in the air. Every step was difficult.

But Michael moved confidently. The water beneath his feet made almost no sound.

He stopped, gestured Sarah closer, and pointed to a tree.

Deep ragged marks — claws.

A large beast.

Sarah frowned.

Michael raised his hand higher. Up above, among the branches, something was tied — a red-and-green strip of cloth fixed to a metal spike.

A mark.

Michael pressed a finger to his lips. Then he pointed forward, took the crossbow from his back, glanced over his shoulder, and checked whether the others had repeated him.

Not everyone raised their weapons.

But they began to.

And at that moment, the forest was torn open by a sound — a roar.

Deep.

Heavy.

It came from the direction Michael had pointed to.

The fog trembled and began to thicken, spreading across the ground. What a second earlier had looked like a pile of leaves rose.

Onto its hind legs.

A massive body, stuck together with mud and vegetation. Its jaws opened — far too wide.

And it moved forward.

Straight at Michael.