When the World Came Crumbling Down

Chapter Thirteen

It was the first time I had been back to the village since the raiders had attacked – it wasn’t a pretty sight.

Even if the young man hadn’t been hanging from a charred tree by his hands, the burnt cabins and surrounding devastation would still have been enough to make me cry.

I had lived here, hunted here.

Worse, I knew what each cabin had in it, burnt and destroyed.

From Kip’s shoulder, I had seen the carnage.

I had witnessed friends murdered.

The soil was still spotted with dried pools of blood.

I guess I had always known that all we would find if we went back would be burnt bodies, thrown into the flames to keep the scavengers away while the raiders had their fun.

It was a hard thing to see; what had the world turned into?

Were people really that savage?

I didn’t bother to answer my own question – I knew.

Was Zagna in one of the cabins, a pile of charred bones with a rag for a dress still on?

My eyes stung and my throat constricted at the very thought.

I shook my head – I had to concentrate on saving the boy – the very same one I thought of every day.

I had been wondering if he got away – I guess not.

But why hadn’t the raiders killed him?

Could it be he was the one who led them here?

Or were the raiders using him as some sort of bait?

I didn’t see anyone around.

Just in case they had set up some kind of trap, I threw a charred stick, landing it almost directly beneath him.

His head snapped up, eyes wide as he searched for the source.

Nothing happened – no one jumped out to get me, no bombs went off, no pits collapsed.

Carefully I stepped out of my hiding place, glancing around warily.

Still nothing.

Smiling, I looked back at him – and frowned.

He was shaking his head side to side vigorously, not smiling.

What?

Didn’t he want saved?

Did he think I couldn’t do it?

Glaring, I continued forward, ignoring him.

When I got within about five feet of him, I stopped.

“Why should I help you?” I whispered, examining the situation.

The rope was only looped around his hands.

“You shouldn’t. You should leave before you get caught,” he whispered back angrily.

What was his problem?

I was helping him!

I chose not to reply and instead rolled my eyes, walking over to the barely recognizable tree the rope was anchored on.

I used my knife to cut through the nylon rope, trying to ignore the initials carved into the charred trunk of the tree.

It was a maple tree, but I know it as the Love Tree – anyone who wanted to get married had to find a tap and wait for enough syrup to eat dripped out, then put their initials on it

The camp’s director would then carve a heart around the letters while the couple ate syrup.

The camp director would then recite a few words to which the couple would say “I do” and they were married.

Everyone liked the ceremony, although a few would have liked it better with a preacher.

As images of such past unions flooded my mind, followed by memories of people I would never see again, I barely noticed the rope snapping and the boy hitting the ground with a thud.

When I finally realized I was cutting nothing, I put my knife away and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and turning away.

His hands were still bound and he was sitting up, watching me.

“What’s your name?” I asked quietly.

He pushed himself up and slowly walked towards me, his eyes never leaving mine, sliding the rope off as he went.

I watched, silent, until he stopped a mere foot away, whispering something and smiling.

“What?” I asked only slightly louder, leaning closer, drawn to him, my eyes sliding down to his mouth against my will, remembering our first kiss, the way his lips had felt on mine.

He stepped closer and leaned toward me, his face only inches from mine.

“Shane,” He whispered again, leaning in to put his lips on mine.

It was the most wonderful and confusing feeling I have ever felt…like flying, but also like falling.

As his lips began to gently move against mine, I followed, knowing I shouldn’t.

I didn’t even know him – but I couldn’t resist.

I had never had a kiss before, not including the one I had stolen when I thought I would never have another chance.

When his arms wrapped around me, I wanted so much to stay in the moment…but my ribs, still tender, practically caught on fire as he tried to pull me closer, making me gasp and shove away.

What was I thinking?

I couldn’t do this…he couldn’t do this!

“What did you  do that for?!?” I practically yelled in his face, furious beyond reason.

He seemed surprised, and a little hurt.

“I was just returning that. ‘Scuse me if you thought I was rude.”

“Yes, I thought that was very rude! I might forgive you if you apologize.”

He raised one eyebrow, eyes twinkling.

“Now I see no reason for that – after all, you kissed me back.”

My cheeks flamed red and I didn’t reply, instead I spun around on my heel and walked away.

Before I was able to jump into the bushes, he grabbed my arm and stepped in front of me.

“Where are you going?” He seemed somewhat angry, but I didn’t really care.

“Why should you care? You’re down, so go away.”

That shut him up.

I tried to move past him, but once again he blocked my way.

“I – can I – oh forget it. Fine, go if you want to, I won’t stop you.”

I looked pointedly at him, and he moved out of my way.

“Where are you going?” I asked him, mildly curious.

“Why should you care?” he shot my own response back at me, then spun around and headed into the burned village.

I followed him and stopped him the same way he had stopped me.

“What are you doing?!? You can’t go in there!”

He stopped and looked me in the eye – “I have to get my horse.”