The Trail

Chapter 22 | The journey continues

"The trail?", I had asked.

Owen had returned to studying the map. He continued to do so while he spoke.

"It's a long and dangerous road, even more so these days, that leads to the top of the mountain, the one marked on your map. The aboriginals call it the trail because they sent their aspiring warriors to the mountain in order to prove themselves worthy to their tribe. The mountain was considered a holy and sacred place, until the white man came to run it dry of resources. I don't know the full story, only that they believe that the mountain has been cursed by the Rainbow Serpent, a creator god in their mythology, so that no man can return to destroy the land", he had said.

"And you know where this trail is?", I had said, full in anticipation.

"I believe I do, but it won't be easy...", he had said before he had rolled the map together and handed it back to me.

"Name one thing that is easy these days", I had mumbled.

"True enough", he had replied.

"So, you're coming?", I had said with the hint of a smile.

"No, that's your ordeal. Your destiny to follow. Me? I'm just going to lay back here and await my death before the tide comes to collect what's left of me...", he had said before he had lied back down onto the ground.

***

Three days later, we found ourselves beginning our journey towards the great trail and the, so called, cursed mountain. Owen was not fully recovered from the inhalation of smoke, but he could walk -

and walk we did.

We traveled north, alongside the sea and beside the disintegrating forest that cut like a hot flesh wound through the land. Sand filled our boots and found its way between the pads of Juniper's paws. I had given Owen the responsibility of reading the map, seeing as he was the one who knew where we were headed. I wondered how he knew of things that I had never even heard of, but did not ask. If there was one thing that I had picked up, it was that he did not like to talk about his past.

It was all too hot to make conversation, anyway. All the energy that could be mustered went into putting one foot, or paw, in front of the other. Meanwhile, rays of sun burnt against our backs and the heat from the wall of fire billowed towards us. We did not have much of a water supply, even less so now that there was three of us. I had decided that we would try to make our way towards the high road that were only a few miles away from our current location. According to my second map, drawn for tourists, there should be a small town maybe a day's walk from here. We needed new supplies for our journey, especially Owen, who owned nothing more than his old, ragged clothes. Hopefully, there would be a few stores that had not yet been wiped clean by looters.

Our shoes sank into the sand by every new step, which after a while made it heavy and tiresome to walk. I found it easier to put my feet down where the sand was wet and compact by the waves that flowed over the ground. So did Juniper, as her paws must burn from the sand that scorched like boiling lava beneath the soles of our shoes.

As we walked, I had plenty of time to reflect over my own mind. To my relief, the voices in my head had been surprisingly cooperative for the last days spent by the shore. It seemed as if they only grew louder during times of distress. While I had been given plenty of time to rest, perhaps I had received the strength to keep them at bay. Nonetheless, I was glad that they kept quiet. To not have my mind clouded by deranged thoughts, and to not have to worry about what would happen if I lost control over them, appeased my soul.