Chapter 8: Red, Part 1

It took a little longer than the five hours the napkin had estimated to find the trees. The light was gone by then, so Trey sat with his back to their trunks and tried to sleep. He nodded off a few times, but cold and hunger kept him awake for the most part. He'd have to scrounge something to eat tomorrow.

The napkin suggested an organized group who weren't friendly to the Geris - a group combining daring, craftiness and determination, to have people placed in the Youth Reserves. Trey looked forward to meeting them.

When the sun rose he found the second sign carved into a tree. He didn't know much about trees, but the carving didn't look fresh.

Trey's stomach rumbled as he walked east along a dirt road. No choice but to ignore the pangs and keep moving. All through the day and into the night his stomach gnawed while he avoided people, and thus sources of food. Growing up in the Reserve meant he knew nothing about what was edible around him.

Days stretched out as he walked and tried to remember if he knew how many days a human could go without food. He drank water from streams in the woods avoiding dangers in human form.

While he skirted around a village, a black shape bounded toward him -a dog, its eyes glowing red lasers. A fence separated them, but the animal headed toward a low gate.

Trey stumbled into a run away from the animal. He had maybe a hundred yards lead. Even at his best he couldn't out run the beast, and hunger made him far from his best. Outsmarting it would have to do.

The sound of rushing water drew him. Some of the tattered mystery books left at the Reserve talked about water confusing tracking dogs. Trey crested a hill and saw a large pond with a wheel beside a big building churning water at the far end.

Growling sounded an incalculable distance behind him. Gravity pulled him into longer strides. Trey windmilled his arms to stay on his feet. Without slowing, he plunged into the water.

The pond was deeper than he expected, good for escaping the dog, not so good for a kid who had never swum before. Weeds grew in profusion, so Trey pulled himself along, grasping the wiry stems. He hadn't been under long when his lungs burned and he had to fight the impulse to breathe. His hand hit mud instead of weeds so he clawed his way to the surface and gasped as quietly as he could.

The dog walked around the pond, its nose sniffing at the grass. Trey's heart pounded as the dog's whines passed over his head. Maybe its electronics meant it didn't like water. Trey let himself sink deeper and spread mud on his face. After one circuit of the pond the dog's head lifted and it loped away. The same thing keeping it out of the water let it communicate with the Geri's. Trey had better get moving.

Trey couldn't climb out from his hiding place. He slowly circled the pond until he'd almost reached the wheel. A ladder led up the side of the building so he washed as much of the mud away as he could, then climbed. Trey kept the hill between him and the village until he needed to find the next circle. Walking warmed him and dried his clothes, but did little about the reek of swamp emanating from them.

His path zigzagged along old roads and abandoned tracks, but the general direction was east. Then he found a marker saying the next one was on the side of a house.

From under some brush, Trey examined the little house on the edge of a town. Sure enough the circle was there, disguised as a wreath on the door. In the center was the knocker. Nothing else to do but hope he was at the right place. He crawled out of the brush and headed to the house.

Trey knocked. It took him a moment to realize the person who answered was a woman. She waved him in and led him to a back room. Fog swirled through his brain and sapped his energy. He couldn't even worry about whether he should trust her.

"Poor dears, you always look so starved." Her voice was high and melodic as she pushed him into a chair and set a glass of milk in front of him. "That will keep you until the soup heats up."

Trey tried to thank her, but it was just too much work to talk. Instead he sipped at the milk. By the time he was done there was a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of him. He started on the soup. He had barely finished before he started nodding off. The woman pulled him to his feet and guided him to a back room with a cot. He was asleep before she closed the door.

Strange smells woke Trey. Fresh clothes lay at the foot of the bed. He changed quickly before following the odor out to the kitchen.

The woman smiled at him and slid a plate with golden brown disc-shaped objects on it. She poured some brown syrupy goo on them and nodded encouragingly. Trey took up the knife and fork and tried a bite. The next thing he knew he had eaten four plates of the 'pancakes' as his host called them.