The Back of The Mind: A Collection of Eerie Short Stories

Walk to Salvation: Part 4 of 8

Erik shook himself awake in his dirt nest. Before he could take in his surroundings, Berk was in front of him, holding out a ration of meat. He took the food from the dirty hand reluctantly. The images of his nightmare still swirled around in his mind. Within seconds his breakfast had been devoured by his deep hunger. He could feel the lack of sleep and the day ahead pressing down on his shoulders.

His eyes gazed over their camp. The bark on the trees didn't seem much brighter than when they had arrived. Now, what stood out to him were the claw marks on a few trees. One of them had an unravelling rope tied to its base.

The birds sang enthusiastically above their heads, indicating the new day.

"Where's the deer?" He asked when he noticed that he couldn't spot the animal anywhere on the campsite.

Without saying anything, Berk looked up. Erik followed his eyes into the branches when he spotted it, hanging from its remaining hind leg from a tree a few metres off of the ground.

"You were busy last night," Erik remarked. "You want help getting it down before we go?"

"Leave here. They come get it." Berk was busy gathering his things and strapping his weapons in place. Erik felt compelled to do the same if he didn't want to get left behind.

"They? Who're they?"

The question hung in the air, answered. Erik didn't repeat himself.

He was blinded by the cold sun when they escaped from the shelter of the trees. It wasn't far off the ground and shone directly into his face. He didn't think as far as to bring his cap with him. The journey forward wasn't planned, after all. His shoes didn't dry entirely through the night and made his feet suffer from each step. Endurance, Erik motivated himself.

The landscape was the same as he remembered it - unending and deserted.

They walked the morning away until the sun burned his hair from above. Erik kept his head down to block his face from the harsh rays, but he could feel his neck reddening by the minute. Only after receiving a year's worth of vitamin D did he dare to put his jacket on as a protection method. It was warm, but at least it didn't give him blisters.

After the sun had reached its peak in the sky, Berk stopped in his path and bent down to a single small pool of water. He unfastened his quiver and removed the arrows. "There," he pointed to a dead tree that wasn't too far from them. "Get wood."

Erik trusted that he wouldn't be shot from the back as he wandered toward the tree. It looked lost amid the landscape of endless grassland. He thought back to how the grass had waved in an almost welcoming manner upon his arrival. There was no wind or breeze to speak of now, and the grass was still.

His hands felt sensitive against the wood as he snapped the lower branches and tucked them under his arm. When he thought he had enough fuel for a fire, he returned to Berk, who had cut away a deformed circle of grass.

"Take." Berk held out the tinder he had made from the grass. "Make fire."

The hunter sat back and inspected Erik as small, and a few sparks spat from the flint and knife. It took more attempts than Erik would have liked to set the grass alight. The times he had started a fire before always involved the match or a lighter, as with most people.

Berk put a small pot of water on the crackling sticks as the flames grew taller. After it had boiled, he set it aside to cool.

"Lions ahead," Berk's voice broke the silence between them. He didn't speak much, but the words he said when he did always bore meaning. These words struck fear into Erik such that he had never felt before. He hated asking Berk questions every time he spoke, but there wasn't much to share.

"And let me guess, we're going straight through their territory?"

Berk nodded. "Careful." He poured the water into his empty pouch and returned the metal pot to the bottom of his quiver that doubled as a solid base for it.

They stomped out the fire and continued on their way.

Another hour of nonstop hiking had passed when they came across a herd of grazing antelopes on an open plain. They covered the landscape like mud splashes on a windscreen - thick in the middle and scattered around the edges. The animals barely moved, focused on munching as much greenery as possible before the day ended.

"Impala," Berk mumbled under his breath. He turned to look at Erik and placed a finger in front of his lips. "Slow," he instructed.

They continued in a crouching position through the tall grass along the edge of the plain, not drawing any attention from the grazing mammals. Erik's legs buckled under his weight. They were tired, burning and numb from working overtime the past day. What a day it had been. He had always been obsessed with touring around and gaining as much life experience as possible. He would pursue his dreams of travel if he had the money for it, which he never did. Life never allowed him to generate an abundance of money to spend on his heart's desires. He was working toward making it big and possibly landing a corporate position. Still, his options and resources were drying up. There was still a chance at living luxuriously and seeing the world, but he was content with earning enough to feed himself for the time being. His stomach started cramping at the thought of food, wailing louder than the crunch of the grass under their feet. He could use a toasted sandwich.

Caught up in his thoughts, Erik walked face-first into Berk's backside. Berk didn't pay him any attention, though; his focus was to their left, where a lioness crawled from grass toward the impalas. They were caught in the middle of a hunt.

Sat in the tall grass, they watched as the predator closed in on her meal. The exhaustion almost shoved Erik into the depths of his thoughts again, daydreaming that he was the aforementioned sandwich being bitten into by a cat's fangs. He was barely over the edge of awareness when Berk shot up with his bow in hand.

Camouflaged next to them sat another member of the pride.

Not for the first time, Erik felt like a toddler at his mother's side, hoping that she would know what to do. He looked up at Berk. An animalistic growl rose from the hunter's insides. He stood with his arms spread to the sides, asking the predator if she dared to fight him.

Intrigued by the roaring beast before her, the lioness inched closer. Berk took a defensive step forward and let out another scream. To no avail, their predator also countered with another step toward them. All Erik could do was awe at the sight of the two killers facing each other down.

Without breaking eye contact, Berk kicked at him. "Get up!"

"But..." Erik was thinking up a cowardly excuse to not make himself more visible when the lioness's piercing focus met his own.

"Now!" Berk yelled again in a horrifying voice.

Erik reluctantly obeyed and stood up from his hiding spot, but the lioness didn't seem convinced of his will to live. Again, today was not the day to cross off bucket list items.

He threw his arms in the air and screamed at the lion, although less menacing than his partner. He had a countermove ready for every move the lion made toward them. Together, Erik and Berk screamed straight into the lion's face, alerting the whole environment to their location.

And she took it.

The lioness continued in her path toward them. Erik felt his heart throbbing in his throat, both of which burned with every scream. He reminded himself that there was a thin line between bravery and stupidity. Trying to remain on the side of the former, he took a step back into the safety of the unhindered hunter.

It was as if the lion overstepped a line when Berk snatched an arrow from behind and took aim. His stance was dominant. Erik swallowed his voice.

The lioness showed hesitance at the sight of the armed weapon. The landscape grew silent.

A final pissed-off roar and mock charge from Berk broke the tension. The lioness gave in and fled into the grass.

Berk quivered the arrow again and returned the bow to his back as he continued onward, unphased. The only remnant of the deadly confrontation was a hunter's snarl.