#Chapter 216 – Future Plans
The next morning, Victor and I make short work of packing up the tent. We send the boys off with a little
H20 test kit to see if they can find fresh water, and they come back with a couple of bottles full. We
quickly set the water to boil over the rekindled fire and then re-bottle it, slipping it into our backpacks for
later use.
Then, ready for our day – and whatever new magical twists it brings – we head out along the trail.
It’s not really much of a trail, though, when I think about. We’re following what can best be described as
a little game path, just a small winding clearing between plants in the woods, probably made by the
routine travel of deer passing through.
What we’re really following, I suppose, is our instincts.
I sigh. More magic there, probably. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it like Alvin and Ian clearly are.
It was difficult, getting up this morning. My body dragged against the dawn, screaming for more sleep.
When I was able to pry my eyes open, I found Alvin peering down at me, his face worried.
“Are you okay, mama?” he had asked. I had reassured him, as cheerfully as I could, that I was fine – I
just didn’t like sleeping on the forest floor. But in reality, my breath was coming shorter, and I could feel
my heart beating fast in my chest, even though I was resting.
We are short on time, my body is telling me. It makes every moment feel tense and precious.
Our progress through the woods is slow, the boys flitting around us like butterflies. I swear they run
three times the distance that Victor and I walk, dashing ahead and then back to us, and then looping
behind to re-explore before coming to tell us all about it. I envy them their strength, but am also glad
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtthat at least some of us are feeling up to the strain of this hike.
What’s perhaps the most frustrating, though, is that I have no idea where we’re going. I know that we’re
on some kind of sacred journey, but honestly? Most of the time it just feels like we’re wandering
aimlessly in the woods, which grates on my nerves.
Victor stops at around noon, turning and offering me a drink from the lukewarm water bottle. I grimace
as I sip at it. I’m thirsty, but damn it, what I’d give for a glass of icy water.
He glances forward to where the boys are climbing over a rotten old log.
“Well, at least they’re having fun.”
I sigh, coming to stand closer to him and resting my head on his shoulder. “Does it feel ridiculous to
you? To be spending these…well, these final hours, wandering through the woods?”
He grimaces and looks down at me, and I know that I’ve hit the nail on the head. It feels exactly that
way to him too.
The forest is dark, now, for noon. I glance around it, noting the heavy canopies above that let in only a
small portion of the sun’s rays. It creates, around us, a cools space ideal for decay.
“It’s spooky in here,” I murmur, frowning as I look around.
“Spookier when the ghosts visited last night?” Victor replies, smirking at me.
“Honestly?” I say, looking up at him. “Kind of. The boys were right – those ghosts were weird, but they
weren’t…unfriendly. The vibe in this part of the forest is…different.”
The boys come running back to us then, Ian rubbing his left eye with the back of his palm, a few tears
leaking out of his right.
“Mom!” he shouts, his voice tight and upset. “Alvin threw dirt in my eye!”
“I didn’t!” Alvin protests, running up after him and glaring at his brother. “I just threw it up and it landed
in your eye – I didn’t mean –“
“That’s enough,” I say, looking confusedly between the two. They never fight. I then lean down to pry
Ian’s hand away from his eye, inspecting the damage. No harm done, just irritation. “Alvin, apologize.
Ian, accept it. Let’s all move on.”
Honestly, I just don’t have the energy to deal with that today. It’s probably bad mothering but…god, I’m
just so tired.
Alvin and Ian do as I say and then, shooting each other dirty looks, again run ahead.
“What’s with them,” Victor says, looking after them. “They’re always such pals. But today…”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, then nudge him with my elbow. “Come on, let’s carry on.”
He nods, and we do.
As we walk, though, I find my mind turning to dark places. The forest around me glowers, and so does
my mind. I think about what it would be like to die in here, the trauma it will cause our sons to wake up
one morning and find us just dead in the tent. God, what would they even do?
The thought is too horrible to bear, so I turn to the next question on my mind, glancing up at Victor’s
broad back walking ahead of me.
Even if we did make it out of this forest…would the two of us make it? It’s very easy to make big
sweeping romantic promises to each other in a time of crisis, and I have proven that I would willingly
die for him. But…in the mundane certainty of everyday life, without a great drama pulling us together…
Honestly, will it be enough? Will I be enough? Or, will he grow bored of me? Or me of him?
I gnaw at my lower lip, worrying about it for what feels like hours as we plunge through the forest.
Eventually Victor stops ahead of me and sighs. I blink, surprised, and stop in my tracks looking at him.
Then he turns, shaking his head and glaring at me a little.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm“What?” he asks. Or demands, really.
“Huh?” I ask, c*****g my head to the side, confused.
“I can feel you brewing back there, all upset,” he says, his voice all impatient. “What’s wrong? Just spit
it out.”
“Is it not enough that we’re dying in the middle of the woods wandering around trying to find some
lady?” I ask, tossing my hands up, exasperated. “Do I have to explain beyond that?”
“Yes,” Victor says, turning towards me and crossing his arms over his chest, going all Alpha on me.
“Because that’s not what’s really bothering you, Evelyn.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What makes you think you know that, Victor?”
He leans forward, shaking his head at me. “Call it magic, Evelyn.” He says, not very kindly. “I’m in your
head now, after all, and you’re in mine. Call it intuition, if you want, but I’m not wrong.”
I glare at him for a second and then brush past him, continuing to walk. “Bully,” I murmur, as I go. He
doesn’t just get to demand access to my inner thoughts, no matter how big and tough he is. I start to
trudge up a little hill in front of us.
“Evelyn,” he calls after me, following behind, exasperated. “Come on, it’s not going to do any good to
keep it inside. Just talk to me about it.”
“Fine,” I say, spinning and looking him straight in the eye, helped a little by the fact that I’m standing a
little higher than him on this slight incline.
He stands there, arms still crossed, waiting.
“Fine,” I say again, crossing my own arms. “How do I know you won’t cheat on me, when you get bored
of me. Like you did to Amelia.”
His jaw drops when he hears my words.