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

It was final. No matter what he tried, the car wouldn’t start. The dirt road behind him stretched into the distance like an overgrown tail. There was nothing in sight as far as the eye could see except for the deserted trees poking up from the waves of grass. Except for the odd insects inhabiting the ground and air and a few animals probably roaming around in the grass unseen, he was alone.

Erik wiped his oil-stained hands on the piece of cloth lying next to the engine. If only he had paid attention to what his dad had taught him about car engines, but it never fascinated him as a child as much as it did his dad. To his eyes, everything about the car seemed to be in order. It was an older model that he had inherited from his grandfather when he passed. It had always done the job of getting from A to B without much trouble. He would’ve upgraded to a shinier ride the previous year if he wasn’t let go from that shithole people called an insurance company.

Now, he was stuck between trees and rocks on the way home from a gone-to-shit holiday with his friends. He had already walked back a kilometre or two, searching for a bar of signal with no luck. After the better part of an afternoon spent with his hands fumbling around the engine in vain, the sun was now dangerously close to collecting its light thrown across the plain. At least he had a pillow in the back for the night, although none of the seats reclined as far as he’d like.

In his defence, considering all the traffic that would clog the main roads this weekend, this seemed like the best route to take home. After all, it would only have been an hour of driving on this dirt road. Judging by the lack of cars coming down here with him, he was the only one that had thought that this could work out well.

Defeated, he opened the car’s back door and retrieved his trusted pillow. He would never go anywhere without it. People that could leave their pillow at home while away didn’t value their comfort. He sat down on the passenger seat and propped his pillow up behind his head. The insects were starting to call out to each other now, especially the crickets. One specific cricket sat somewhere in the grass beside him, chirping away as if it was its last day on earth. They could’ve used it as a torture method in the medieval ages, he thought.

He was just settling into the area around him when there was a rustling in the grass not far from where he was stranded.

His eyes darted to the noise. Hopefully, it was just a herbivore coming in for a closer look at the strange red metal object now standing in their home. He had always wondered how it would feel to be eaten alive, but tonight was not the night for that experience.

It felt as if his stare would set the ocean of sunlit orange grass on fire, yet he didn’t dare look away. Slowly, he started pulling the door shut. When he heard the click of the latch securing the door, he reached over the driver’s seat to close the other door that was also standing wide open. As he looked back to the origin of the noise that had startled him, he met the protruding eyes of the suspect. Erik was no nature expert, but he knew danger when he saw it. He decided that the small munching deer that lifted its head into view was not dangerous, though.

With a sigh of relief at potentially living another day, he opened the passenger door again, hoping to get a closer look. He lifted himself out of the car carefully and inched closer. After a handful of successful steps without startling the animal too much, his feet became plastered to the ground. The deer started turning to run away, but was paralysed by the arrow puncturing its neck.

The stunned man didn’t dare to move in fear that his spinal cord would be next. He allowed his eyes to roll to the right where the shot had come from, but nothing was in view. From a distance, the sound of crackling plant life came into earshot. He turned his head slightly to see a man built like half a tree trunk coming toward him. His torso was covered with a tattered cloth in need of a wash. A longbow was strapped across his chest, and his hair hung above his shoulders. Erik was trapped between walking up to the stranger and extending his hand or retreating to the haven of the car behind him. It took him three seconds to decide on the latter.

He almost tripped on his own feet as he spun around but made it into the car within a few leaps. He slammed the door shut behind him and put his chin between his knees out of view from the window. The carpet never looked dirtier than it did now, with his face centimetres away from his feet. His breathing was soaked with suspense, filling up the pocket of air with the stench of fear. Where did this person come from? Why did he shoot the deer right in front of him?

A knock on the window disturbed the rhythm of his breath. Did he look up to meet the pair of eyes staring down at him? Did he keep to himself and wait for the hunter to go away? Another three knocks came from the window.

“Hey,” the man’s harsh voice came through the window. It was only one word, but it sounded so authoritative that Erik felt forced to look up. The man’s face looked rough from up close, with its lower half covered in a thick, dirty beard.

“Come,” the voice pushed through the glass again.

Erik looked up now and saw that the man had turned away, walking toward the bleeding deer. His back looked just as frighteningly solid as his front. On his left, there was a pink scar running down the length of the back of his arm. Erik opened the door cautiously and found the strength to stand upright, leaning against the car for support in fear of his shaking legs.

“Come where?” Erik shouted in a weak voice. Just because the stranger had terrified him does not mean he would refuse help.

The hunter unsheathed a knife from his side and crouched down into the grass where the deer lay. “Camp,” he groaned.

Erik thought it over. If there was a camp, there may be a group of other people that could help him get back on the road in the morning.

“How far is it?” Erik asked, his body getting some blood flow again.

“Not far,” the hunter responded, his voice almost disappearing in the grass. The breeze was picking up speed slightly.

“Are there other people there?” He had to know. He needed some hope that it could be easier to get back home. The question hung in the air for a few seconds, and the song of the swarm of birds flying overhead filled the silence.

The hunter stood up and sheathed the knife again. “No.”

Erik thought the presented situation through briefly. The hunter bowed down and threw the deer over his shoulder. Its neck had been slit, and the blood started pouring to the ground, staining the hunter’s rags and legs.

“I think I’d rather stay the night in my car,” he decided.

The hunter turned around to look at him. Instinctively, Erik glanced toward the ground before he met his eyes. The man before him was illuminated by the last grace of sunlight. “No fire. Freeze.”

**********

The only light they had was from the half-moon in the sky. Erik trudged through the waist-length grass with a small bag of clothes, a blanket, and his pillow strapped to his back. He always tried to keep a few metres behind the hunter, hiking consistently fast, even with an animal slung over him. The bow hung on his back next to the quiver of eight arrows. After the first hour, Erik had to put a jacket on to keep warm even though his legs were burning. The straps of the uncomfortable backpack were digging into his shoulders, and he had to shift it on his shoulders every so often. The jacket helped with that, even if only slightly. His feet and toes were starting to take a beating in his shoes, which he wished fit better than they did.

After more than two hours of walking and pushing through the grass, his legs wanted to give in.

“There,” the hunter pointed to a small cluster of trees in the distance. It was the first time he had talked since they set off on their small expedition. Erik noticed that the trees weren’t that far away and that he just might make it there with less than three blisters on his feet.

The night was eerie and open. Every now and again, he had heard frogs croaking through the landscape of chirping insects. Once there had been an echoing howl of a wolf or fox - he couldn’t tell the difference. Everything was still and silent - anticipating something. He felt vulnerable, sticking out like the Eiffel Tower in a desert. The breeze was cold to the touch and made his nose and ears numb.

“Do you have a name?” Erik asked, now that they were speaking again. He still felt cautious around the hunter but a bit more comfortable now.

“Berk,” the hunter responded.

“Erik.” He kept to the theme of one-worded sentences, not wasting breath.

Closer to the campsite in a shallow valley, the ground started to sink ever so slightly beneath his weight, allowing the moisture held in the soil’s firm grip to seep into his shoes. “God damn it,’ he swore under his breath. His body was really becoming worse for wear by the second now. He was used to sitting behind a desk for most of the day, glasses perched on his nose, staring at numbers and paragraphs. The last time he went hiking was with his ex-girlfriend two years ago, and even that was almost a literal walk in the park. He still missed her sometimes and wondered what she did to occupy her days, but he would never want to be stuck in a relationship like that again. You can’t help caring for someone.

The camp was secluded between the trees, a small pile of ash being the only indication that someone had been there before. He put his bag down against one of the thicker trees surrounding the fireplace. Berk placed the deer down on the opposite side of the camp and started gathering wood from a small stack. Erik realised that Berk hadn’t once switched shoulders in carrying the deer.

As quiet as the night had been on their journey, it couldn’t compare to the void between the trees. It was like experiencing the inside of a closed cupboard with nobody home. Even the crickets seemed to stop chirping.

Erik pulled his phone from the backpack. Still, no signal, with twelve per cent battery left. He turned it off and put it away, panicked and disappointed.

With his knife and a piece of flint, Berk set fire to a ball of dead grass and started stacking the wood on top.

“I know place,” Berk said while the fire was heating up. “Help you.” His voice held a thick accent between the words.

Erik looked up from his bare feet and the mesmerising flames. “How far?”

“Two days.” He put another log on the fire and stood up.

Two days, Erik thought. Could he withstand the agony that awaited his legs?

“They got car,” Berk said as he couched down to the deer once again, knife in hand. Erik could hear the blade’s friction against the hair and skin of the animal. He shivered at the thought of tearing flesh.

“Why did you shoot that thing right in front of me?” Erik asked, thinking back to the events at the car.

“Chase long time. Need food.” He grunted as he twisted on one of the back legs.

Erik sat in silence for a while, thinking about the proposed two-day journey with the brute. If he didn’t get killed, at least he would be cared for. If he wasn’t cared for, at least he would have good company. On one side of the scale, he had already had the worst vacation of his life, so what would another few days of hiking through a field be if it meant that he could get home? After all, that was what he wanted most - to sleep in his own bed and drink a good cup of coffee. On the other side, there could be a car passing by on the road at any moment. It wasn’t probable, though, judging by the lack of tyre tracks he had seen on the road. Both sides of the coin looked unattractive.

Berk sat down at the fire and put the skinned hind leg on the woodpile to grill.

“I’ll come with you,” Erik answered finally. “But we go straight to wherever it is you’re taking me. I don’t want to be lost with a stranger longer than I need to be.”

“Water?” Berk pulled a pouch from his side and held it out to him.

**********

The scream of an owl interrupted his sleeping thoughts. Erik stared up at the waving branches above him. The darkness of night finally enveloped the camp without the life of the fire. A frog down in the valley seemed to be the only being awake with him. He looked down to where Berk had laid down earlier, now empty save for a pile of dirty clothes. His shivering body forced him to get up and stoke the fire again. The bare ground beneath his feet sent goosebumps up his back as he shuffled to the woodpile, now running low. He stacked the thinnest branches on the still-warm coal first and blew the flames alight within a few seconds. As the trail of smoke raced toward the top of the trees, he retrieved larger pieces of wood from the pile to add to the growing fire, just as he noticed Berk had done.

He sat down close to the fire and absorbed the heat thrown his way. A crack between the trees disturbed the peace of the wafting flames, and his focus snapped toward the origin. Bloodstained from head to toe, Berk came marching through the tree trunks. His eyes were staring into Erik’s soul.

“Fire. Good.” He came to stand on the opposite side of the camp and spat on the ground. “Cook meat.”

Erik stood up, confused by the words. “I thought you said to save the rest of the deer. What happened to you?” He swore that there was a shade of red in the reflection of Berk’s eyes as if they intensified the colour of the flames between them.

“Not deer.” Berk furrowed his eyebrows. “You.”

With Berk’s next step toward him, Erik spun around without hesitation and ran into the dark through the thick trunks. The light of the fire had robbed him of his night vision, which made it much harder to dodge any obstacles in his path. Each time he stumbled, the thunder of footsteps behind him grew louder.

When he finally escaped into the grass, the whole landscaping started laughing at him. Humiliating him for being the idiot to trust a stranger to get him to safety.

Caught up in his thoughts, Erik tripped over a rock that obstructed his clear path through the grass. Before he could get to his feet again, the force of the running brute hit him with the power of a bus.

Defeated, he gazed at the stars above him as the red-eyed figure hovered over him.

As Berk lowered himself over his prey, the last thing Erik heard was the familiar sound of bones grinding as the hunter’s jaws unhinged from his skull, and it swallowed his vision.

**********

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.

**********

A sense of pride filled the hole inside of Erik where fear had been bundled up before. He walked with a puffed-up chest. He kept his head low, though, attempting to hide from the sun and everything else that could kill him. He felt himself floating above the grassland and dragging a ball and chain behind him, all at once.

An hour or two of sunlight remained when Berk put his belongings down on a clear patch of earth between three trees. Again, an abandoned pile of ash filled the centre of the night’s campsite.

“Do you come here often?” Erik laughed internally at his own attempt at a joke. He wished his companion had some humour to him. As he sat down, he felt his stomach churning from emptiness. “Is there any food I can have?”

“Want food? Hunt food.” Berk held out his bow.

Erik was taken aback. He had never held a bow in his life, never mind shot one. This was Berk’s most prized possession as far as he could tell, and he was being trusted to wield and not break it. His fingers visibly hesitated underneath the weapon before it clasped around it firmly. It was heavier than it seemed in capable hands.

“Bring back,” Berk warned as Erik took the arrows.

Erik set off into the field around them without any target practice to find his dinner. He shot a few arrows into the short grass to get a feel for the weapon. His arm buckled under the strain and weight of holding the bow out in front of him. His aim was shaky and terrible at best.

He walked up and down in his makeshift shooting range for the better part of an hour, flinging arrows into the area, collecting them, and starting again. He bruised his arm a few times with the bow’s string as it shot forward, and it was turning purple. As the sun began to meet the horizon, he felt comfortable enough with his below-mediocre shooting to try and kill something - another thing he hasn’t done before, if you forgive insects and a few spiders.

He had seen a few stray rabbits run through the grass on their journey that would satisfy his hunger; could he shoot one.

Wandering and gazing through the grass, his eye caught a rustle. He pulled an arrow back and released it toward the scurrying critter, a shoot and a miss. The rustle moved to his left, and he shot another arrow in its way. Another miss. This time the movement disappeared, leaving him back at square one. He shot at - and missed - a few more harmless animals before the sun disappeared.

Erik pondered his failures on the way back to camp, engulfed in the light of a fire. It was the only light he could see.

Halfway through his walk back, he saw the silhouette of a trotting fox move through the grass. He nocked an arrow and steadied his aim, not letting the chance pass him by. After countless shots, his shoulders were on fire, yet he had nothing to show for it. He held his breath as the arrow dashed through the air and landed behind the animal. Quickly, he reached back to the quiver for another one.

Nock. Aim. Release.

The fox wanted to flee, but the arrow through its ribcage hindered it from moving more than a few metres before tumbling to the ground.

Erik hurried toward his prey. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins as his heart raced with emotion. Which emotion, he couldn’t tell.

He heard the crying fox before he saw it. His adrenaline-filled heart broke a little when he laid eyes on the whimpering fox. When he stood over it, his heart shattered. He had to finish the job. A tear led his determined face astray as it escaped from his eye.

The fox flailed its legs aimlessly through the air, trying to outrun the lost battle. Erik tried to calm the animal down and crouched over it. The fox didn’t attack his hand as he ran it through its fur. Berk hadn’t thought that he would actually be able to shoot something; otherwise he would’ve given Erik a knife.

He looked around for anything to help him put the dying animal out of its misery. He pondered the thought of dying for a brief second before he spotted it.

The rock was sizable. Not too big for a frail twenty-something to carry, but big enough to crack a skull open. He sat over the fox, dreading the coming moment. It wanted to escape, but it was on its last breaths. Erik held the rock high in the air. He caught a glimpse at the fox’s eye as it looked up at him. It had a life, he realised. Possibly a litter, as well. Everything that depended on this animal would never see it again by Erik’s hand. He matched the situation to his own life, but would anyone care to not see him again?

Screaming, he pounded the rock into the ground next to the fox’s head.

Tears started streaming down his cheeks. He sulked over the fact that he hadn’t found anyone who truly loved him. He had achieved nothing and would probably die without achieving anything. Even if he had found a signal on his phone, who would he have called? He had nobody to share this adventure with. With all the thoughts of failure, he sulked, but only briefly. The hunger crawling around in his stomach helped pull him out of his depression. Again, he lifted the rock above his head.

Crying, he pounded the rock into the fox’s skull.

He dragged the body back to the night’s fire and left it at Berk’s side. In his haze, Erik sat down against one of the trees.

“Cook.” Berk’s voice snapped Erik back to reality. He looked Berk straight in the eyes.

“You know what,” he started. He could feel his emotions rumbling up to the top. “Fuck you! Fuck you and your sick ways of living. You can cook the meat. I had to kill that poor animal! I… I’ve…” He sobbed. “I’m done. I’m done with all of this. If you’re not cooking the fucking meat, then I guess we’re not eating.” He came back into himself. “Guess I killed something just to stay hungry.” He murmured as he wiped his face.

A silence filled the space between the trees.

“Lion kill,” Berk said. Erik looked up at him. “Lion almost kill you. For food.” He stood up and picked up the fox’s body. “Food,” he repeated, holding out the animal with one hand. Erik blinked away the last of his tears. “No waste. I cook.” Berk carried the fox’s body behind a tree. “You did good.”

“Yeah, well. A fucking knife would’ve been nice.”

**********

The fox’s meat had gone down with gratitude. Despite the previous night’s events, he didn’t dream that night. If he had, Erik was relieved that his mind hadn’t held on to any memory of it.

His eyes opened as the stars began to disappear from the sky. No birds held his company yet, and the tiny nocturnal creatures were exhausted from their hardworking night. Only the heat from the dying coals next to him displayed any signs of life. His eyes swayed toward a sleeping Berk, still as a rock between a tree and dim coals.

He looked up through the branches above him to the shades of blue the sky held. He didn’t feel like Erik anymore. He closed his eyes at this thought.

The sudden pain in his ribs was the next thing he remembered.

“Jesus fuck!” Erik winced in pain as he shot up.

Berk kicked him one last time for good measure and stood back. “Get up.”

“Why would you kick me awake?” Erik rubbed his side.

“Sleep too much,” Berk mumbled, picking up his weapons.

“That doesn’t mean you should injure me, asshole.”

“Berk. Not Ȁsol.” Berk said it straight, but Erik couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his face.

“Yeah, well, your name could be Shitface for all I care.”

Berk stood to wait for Erik while he got his belongings together. These are the things his life had boiled down to: two pairs of worn clothes, one pair of well-worn shoes, an unwashed jacket, a dirty pillow and blanket, and a backpack to help keep it all together.

The sun was halfway peeking over the horizon when they left the three trees. The breeze that flowed past them wasn’t as chilly as the previous morning’s, which Erik welcomed.

“When will we reach where we’re going?” he hated to feel like a child in the backseat, but time was starting to get to him.

“Soon,” Berk said.

“Should I be ready to set up camp again?”

“Yes. After river.”

“What fucking river?” Erik shot the words at Berk, and he hastened his pace to catch up with Berk.

“Cross river. Get to house,” Berk replied.

Erik didn’t want to waste his energy trying to get more information out of him. He wondered in which language he could get more out. What would Berk say to Erik if he knew how?

From there, Erik’s mind drifted into a daydream for the rest of the morning. He noticed how the landscape developed life and greenery as they walked. Trees were becoming more common, along with the bushes next to and between them. He spotted another pair of antelopes different from what he ate. They were bigger, darker, and had thicker horns that could easily run you down. There were a handful of anthills on their path, and ants ran busily in all directions. Never a dull moment.

The pale brown shade of grass never truly disappeared; it just became ingrained into the green plant life. The new scenery felt refreshing, and it motivated Erik to reach the river.

It was well past noon when they first caught sight of the river. On the other side, herds of zebras, impalas, and other antelopes grazed together on the greenery surrounding the river. The water didn’t seem to be flowing fast, but they would find out one way or another.

Berk made a turn to the right, a reasonable distance away from the water. As they marched upstream, the river visibly narrowed. Erik spotted a raft on the riverbank next to a small tree. As they got closer, he saw that the raft was tied to a rope that connected it to trees on opposite sides of the river.

“Please, no,” Erik sighed. “Are we pulling?”

“You first.”

Erik nearly halted in his steps. They’re going one-by-one.

“Is anything gonna eat me?”

Berk caught a glimpse at Erik over the bulging shoulder. He didn’t answer the question.

Berk showed Erik how to operate and pull the raft over the river when they reached the raft. It was easier than Erik expected, but that was just testing it. The river’s current didn’t seem strong, but if he fell overboard in the middle of the river, he might never make it to shore again.

They dragged the raft to the edge of the water, and Erik went to sit on top of it.

“Hold on,” Berk said as he pushed the raft into the water.

As Erik had expected, the current made it harder to pull the raft along, but the rope was spanned tight. He held on for dear life as the water rushed over the raft’s surface. He could see Berk helping by pulling the ropes as well. It made the journey a bit more durable.

To the other end of the river, Erik could see something floating on the surface off to the left. His body froze in place as he saw the eyes of the crocodile glimmering over the water. Erik broke eye contact and focused on the rope leading to where he needed to be. His soft hands started to burn over the rope, and he could feel blisters forming. He pulled until his shoulders started giving in near the riverbank, the closest to the crocodile he had been. It was still keeping an eye on him, waiting for a moment to attack.

It was only a few meters away now, and Erik could not contain himself anymore. He judged the distance between the raft and the edge of the water. Surely, the thought flashed in his mind.

Erik hurled himself over the edge and into the water to close the gap between himself and life. The water was still above his ankles when he heard the sudden splash behind him. He didn’t hesitate to launch himself out of the water and get away from the river.

He failed to notice the rising ground as the riverbank turned into grassland in his stride away from death. He slipped in his step and fell forward onto his hands. As Erik stepped forward to catch his balance, pain shot from his ankle through his back, and he stumbled to the ground.

“Mother of Christ,” he swore. His face winced as he tried to suppress the pain and convince himself that everything was fine.

“You okay?” Berk yelled from across the river. Erik would like to believe that he was, but his ankle convinced him otherwise.

“I think I sprained my ankle!” He yelled back.

Berk was clearly confused by the new vocabulary, so Erik made it simpler to understand. To dumb things down for Berk to understand felt satisfying, superior even.

In the least sarcastic manner that Erik could muster, he pointed to his ankle and yelled. “It hurts!”

Berk nodded that he understood and pulled the raft back toward him. The crocodile would undoubtedly never dare to attack the king of the fields as it seemed. Everything yielded to Berk’s will. The control he had irritated Erik, but at the same time it made him feel safe.

Berk crouched at Erik’s feet to inspect the injury when they were finally together again. He wasn’t soft about it, but at least he was fast.

“Fine,” Berk concluded. “Almost home.”

Before Erik could respond, he was pulled to his feet, and the pain rushed through his body again. He could walk, but it wasn’t near the pace they had kept up until now.

After long and steady walking, Erik asked Berk to help carry his weight on his injured side. They walked with Erik’s arm slung over Berk’s shoulder. It must have gotten uncomfortable for Berk, too, because he chose to carry Erik over his shoulders instead of limping along.

As the sun retreated over the horizon, a small light on the hill that rose in front of them became visible.

“Is that where we’re heading?” Erik asked over Berk’s shoulder.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Who lives there? Can they help from here, in the middle of nowhere?”

Again, Berk refused to answer his question.

“Where do you come from, at least?” Erik asked again.

“Here,” Berk responded.

“So you grew up here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a family?”

“Yes.”

“Where are they?”

The air fell silent after that question as they trod along.

Berk put Erik down at the foot of the hill. This time, there were rocks stacked in a circle to hold fire, a heap of wood, and even slabs of tree trunks on the ground to sit on. Erik looked up at the lights at the top of the hill.

The end was in sight.

**********

Now that Erik could see the end of the journey, his stomach didn’t bother him for food anymore. The following morning they would walk up the hill, greet the folks who lived there and kindly ask them for help. They would help fix his truck so that he could be on his way, or at least they would help tow it to a place that could. Because that’s what he had endured the trip here for.

A fire was burning between them once more. This was the last time the two would share a space in the wild, though it was in a much different setting than in previous times. The area was filled with trees, canopies framing the clouds above them neatly. Because life was much denser around them, Berk had showed Erik where the hammocks folded up against the surrounding trees and where he could sleep, much more comfortable off the ground.

Erik helped Berk start a fire, and they put up their hammocks to sleep for the night. Before settling in, they sat and absorbed the heat of the charming flames. This was the best fire they’d had yet, thanks to the quality of the catered wood. The seating wasn’t too bad either. Erik was happy that his backside was lifted off the ground and that it wouldn’t be dirty when he stood up. He was shocked that he still cared about his hygiene at this point, but it was a habit he couldn’t be concerned about.

“Now that you have nowhere to go,” Erik started as he pulled his jacket tighter against the breeze, “who lives up there?”

Berk turned his head on the question. He tried to ignore the stare drilling into his face, but Erik was right; where could he go?

“Mother.” Berk looked deeper into the flames as if searching for something.

“We’re going to your parents? Why didn’t you just say that?”

Berk shook his head, which was enough of an answer for Erik.

“You have your own place?”

Again, Berk shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I know how a family can be. I’ve been through some shit like that as well.”

They let the crackling of burning wood take over the conversation. Erik wished they could sit and tell stories around the fire, but neither would know what the other was saying.

“I have to take a piss,” Erik interrupted and stood up from his seat and walked in behind the nearest tree. He stared into the darkness as he let loose and took a deep breath of fresh air. The clouds had made all the insects lose their minds in anticipation of a few raindrops.

When he turned around and skimmed over the ground, he spotted something as the fire’s light flickered over the tree before him. At first glance, it looked like runes carved into the bark. He stepped closer and bent down a bit to get a better look.

Erik glanced up along the tree’s trunk as if following someone’s gaze. There was nothing special to talk about, despite it being patched with different shades of brown and unique looking. Confused, he walked along back to his place beside the fire.

He looked out to his left, and he could see the flickering light of the house they had been chasing through the leaves. He thought about Berk’s mother and possibly more relatives that lived so secluded from anywhere else. What was here to do? It explained a lot about the strange man sitting across the fire.

The fire pulled his eyes into an embrace. The whirling flames stirred his mind, and he came to an amusing theory.

“Hey Berk,” he didn’t look up as he said it. “Why would someone not want to go to your house?”

When the silence became too long for Erik to bear, he looked up at the hunter. His stare was bearable. But when Berk’s eyes closed and his eyebrows gave in to a deep furrow, Erik’s shoulder’s sagged.

“What will happen tomorrow?” Erik asked reluctantly.

“Take you. Keep you.” Berk mumbled.

“For what?”

“Feast.”

Realisation flooded Erik’s body almost instantly. His lungs sucked in a big deep breath. Before releasing it, he swerved around and jumped in between the trees. He was determined to not become a meal, and he would prove it again. His ankle almost gave in several times, but pain and fatigue were nothing new. He weaved through the trees, one throbbing foot after another, away from the awaiting nightmare.

A whiz and a hit came from his right. Arrows. He took a hard left and launched forward.

Erik fell down into the grass behind a small bush. He suppressed his rushing breath. The singing insects helped maintain his cover, but he wasn’t risking anything. Erik soon learned that the constant buzz came with its downsides as well. He couldn’t hear any footsteps between the light and himself.

He gathered his weight on his elbows and lifted his head to see through the bush. The silhouette of a hunter with his bow and arrow stood by the fire, scanning the area.

Erik was cautious about his security, but he had low hopes of realistically escaping being hunted by Berk. He’d been through some rough hours the last few days, but it only held a flame to what Berk had faced throughout his life.

“Why?” he called out.

Berk stepped out in his direction and skimmed through the trees.

“Mother,” Berk replied to the night.

“All this way?”

“Many people. Hungry.” He took two steps forward before crouching down and continuing in Erik’s direction.

Behind the bush, Erik got to his heels, stretching the injured ligaments. He picked up a rock and threw it to his right. As planned, the thump of the rock drew Berk’s attention just long enough for Erik to push off to his left and make a run for it.

“Erik!” The roar that came from behind him glued itself to his back. He came to a standstill and turned to face his predator.

The arrow leaving the bow caught Erik’s eyes first, and the pain in his shoulder only started when he met Berk’s aiming eye.

**********

Berk didn’t say another word as he tied a groaning and sobbing Erik up. He kept the arrow in the shoulder to avoid any blood loss. He carefully returned Erik to his place next to the fire. The young man finally looked peaceful in his balancing consciousness. There was nothing left to do but sit back and wait. The hard part was over for Erik.

Erik slept through the night despite the howling pain reverberating through his body. Losing blood and friends at once was too much to work through. He didn’t see another moment of reality until he was lifted off the ground.

Erik tried to open his eyes, but the bright morning sun stung his eyes. The left side of his chest was prisoned by a dull throb. Every time he breathed, his ribs wanted to give in under strain. Fighting against the arms wrapping around his body would be pointless. All of Erik’s gathered strength had left him, and he could feel the lack of blood on his face.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the light of day, he saw the four faces that carried him up the hill. They were bruised and scarred, and none held any sympathy for Erik. Every bump in the road or stumble of their feet pulled on a muscle connected to his shoulder.

The agonising trip to the house was shorter than he expected, and he wished he could say the same for the previous two days. He saw the first corner of the roof and brick walls floating past him before hearing any voices. Erik had envisioned his first human contact, other than Berk, as a saving grace that would lift him out of his shoes and through the air toward home.

This voice, however, reminded him of a high school teacher scolding her most frustrating student. There were no coherent words. However, the female voice sounded conditioned and strong. They passed the window where it originated from, and a few seconds later, he was put down to his feet. The motion pulled at his shoulder, and he could feel the arrow move between his muscles.

Berk’s arm flew up beside him to stop the person behind him. Erik looked down his numb arm to see a hand leave his wrist. The woman stepped away and let Berk take her place. He took Erik’s injured arm, rotated it palm-up and strapped it down to a plank at his side. Berk took care not to hurt him. When both arms were fastened without a struggle, the group of strangers, including Berk, disappeared from view and left Erik alone.

The ground was dusty and blew away with each pass of the wind. The area was bare, with only a wooden fence surrounding Erik before the treeline. There was nothing to see between the trunks and branches. He could still hear a hum of voices coming from the house behind him.

“How’s the arrow?”

The voice erupting from his back startled Erik. “Who’re you?” he blurted.

“Name’s Ciara,” the voice was softer now. “You okay?”

“In pain but pushing on,” Erik welcomed the pleasant voice. “Why are you here?”

“Found a stranger on my farm. He wanted to show me something.” She had a subtle but tangy accent under her breath. “Not long before he pulled me down and tied me up. Next day we’re here. You?”

“I got lost,” Erik sighed. “I needed help. He said to follow him here.” The words didn’t come as easy for Erik. Every time he refilled his lungs, there was a numb pain in his chest.

Ciara kept silent at that. Erik looked to the clouds, on the verge of rain.

“They’re gonna eat us.” His head dropped, and he swallowed a cry. He could barely suffer the pain already.

“I know,” Ciara’s tone dropped. “Already took a fucking finger as a sample.”

“Christ,” he shook his head in disbelief.

Erik could hear the girl sobbing quietly. Neither of them was meant to be there.

The house’s doors opened behind him, and along came chatty voices, all in a language Erik couldn’t understand. They came to stand to his left. One woman struck him as superior to the others. She held a cane and tapped the ground with it as she walked. She was clean and carried herself well. Her eyes were more fierce than the rest. Everyone formed behind her, and conversations died out.

The woman said something in their language and then to them, “Let’s meet the dinner.”

She stepped toward Ciara’s side and pushed her with the cane. “What do you do for work?”

“I’m a farmer,” Erik could feel her shrug the cane off. “Who’re you?”

“Thank you for asking,” the woman put her cane back down on the ground. “You may call me Modea.” She walked toward Erik’s side, and they met eyes.

“You took your time to get here,” she felt at the arrow and investigated it. “Did you much good. Why did you run?”

Erik didn’t want to sabotage someone else that may see the carving and get away.

“To get away, why else?” He was trying to be as steadfast as Ciara had been, but he felt his whole weight held by a toothpick.

“Yes of course,” Modea nodded sarcastically. “But what caused you to run?” She leaned into Erik’s avoiding eyes.

“Berk told me,” he pushed the words out between his lips.

“Oh, he would never do that,” she stepped away. “But, luckily for you,” she took a deep breath, “I don’t have the time to get it out of you.”

The room fell silent as Modea drifted back in front of the herd.

“This will be mostly painless,” she stated when she took her place. “You will both drift toward your final sleep while your blood drains from your bodies.”

Both of the victim’s heads turned toward the mother.

“Hunters,” she called them forward. “Finish your prey.”

Berk and the other hunter stepped forward, both with a knife. Berk had changed clothing, he noticed. A white and crimson robe draped over the brute as he stood before Erik.

Erik clenched his jaw and braced his body. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t.

“Please. Berk.” Erik spat. “Please.”

Berk kneeled. Erik looked up at the sky and tried to memorise the clouds. It was almost going to rain.

As Erik’s vision faded, he felt Berk removing the arrow from his shoulder.

“Prepare your meat!” He heard Modea call out.

While Erik was getting prepared, his car was being towed away.