Order of Magnitude

XV. The Man with No Home

     Carlisle woke up in a foreign field of tall grass. He had no idea how he wound up here last night; in fact the entire week had been a blur. After Jacques and the other hunters were captured, Carlisle split from the main group. He thought he would meet up with them down the road, but he must have been more lost than he originally thought.

      When they were captured, he was already far from his home, and by the look of things he hadn't gotten any closer. In fact, he was pretty sure he was traveling in a completely different direction than he should be. On one hand, it was exciting to explore so far away, and see things that no other parv in his community had ever seen. But, on the other hand, it was terrifying to not have a clue where he was. And that feeling became stronger as each day dragged on.

      Carlisle stood up and surveyed his surroundings. It looked different than it did last night in the dark. There were more things he could see in the distance. The lab itself was completely gone from his field of vision, and its place was a cluster of nearby trees. Was that a good direction to head? Probably not, but at this point it was as good of a guess as any.

     The sound of his stomach rumbling reminded Carlisle that he hadn't eaten since yesterday. He was going to have to rustle up some breakfast before he started his daily trek.

     The wind blew across the grass, causing it to bend over his head. Carlisle sighed. He didn't want to eat grass again; he was tired of it. If he could find a stray ant or an earthworm or something he might be able hunt it and have a decent meal. As it was, it looked like he was going to go vegetarian this morning.

     A sudden sound drew Carlisle's attention. There was something moving just beyond the grass and weeds. He moved carefully and quietly, not wanting to give his position away just yet. If it was an easy prey, he would take it, if it was a swarm or something a little more dangerous, he would just go the other way. Even grass tasted better than death. Much better.

     Carlisle peeked around a small rock and saw what was causing the noise: a fly was struggling on the ground. The parv got a little closer. Flies certainly weren't his favorite meal, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He pulled out his grappling hook, ready to put this thing out of its misery, when he noticed something. The fly's wings were bound by a small wispy substance which was preventing it from taking off. It was from a spider's web! Carlisle didn't need to see any more, he turned around and ran. He wasn't ready to try and hunt a spider; they were dangerous enough when he was in a large group, let alone when he was on his own.

     Suddenly, he found that he wasn't able to move. He struggled harder and harder, but nothing worked. His legs were stuck, and his arms flailed uselessly. Carlisle was caught in the web.

     The parv cursed himself. How could he be so stupid? After being so careful for a whole week on his own, he was going to be done in by one of the most obvious traps in nature. He was no smarter than the mindless fly behind him.

     Carlisle waited. He had no idea from what direction the spider was going to come from. He hoped from ahead, so he could at least see it and prepare for death. It would be terrible if it came from above. He couldn't move his head, so he would never see it coming. But he would feel it approach, and the anticipation would be close to madness.

     A sound came from behind him: eight legs hitting the ground, one at a time. Carlisle sighed. Of course it would come from behind. That was almost worse than death from above.

     "I hope I taste awful!" Carlisle shouted. "Come and get me; dinner's served!"

     The parv fell to the ground, freed from his webbed bonds. He looked around, surprised. There was a spider directly in front of him, but something was off. It wasn't attacking, just waiting patiently. In fact, it looked altogether tame. Carlisle craned his head up and saw that on top of the spider sat a radically dressed man, a sharp stick in his hand.

     "You seem so eager to be devoured," the man laughed.

     "Who... who are you?"

     "I am Morse. I am a member of group known as The Lost."

     "The Lost, huh. I'm... uh... I'm Carlisle. And I have no idea where I am."

     Morse smiled. "You look worn down. Come with me, Carlisle. The Lost shall feed you and give you some safety. Maybe we can even show you a way home."

     Carlisle nodded his head and was helped onto the spider's back. He was apprehensive about this stranger, but he was in no position to refuse help. All he could do was keep his eyes open and hope that this was not some sort of elaborate trap.

     On the back of a spider, Carlisle rode toward the nearby tree line, and toward a community he had never known existed.