Page 61 of Hollow Valley
“So you all still want to go then?”Boden asked.“Nobody wants to turn back, even though it’s another few weeks before we reach the Valley at least?”
“It’s still closer than going back to the boat,” Edie reasoned.“And we’ve come this far.Why go back now?”
Boden rubbed the back of his neck and stared off out the window.“I just wanted to be sure.”
After his moment of hesitation faded, we began packing up our bags.Boden helped me with Fae, while Fergus tucked Dougal’s ashes safely away.Once everyone was ready, we said goodbye to Jannifer at the front desk and gave her the key.
It was a brisk morning when we set out of Xwechtáal.Just beyond the fence, the trail immediately pitched upward.Both Lazlo and Jannifer had warned us that we had a grueling uphill hike for the next few days, and then everything would be downhill toward Glacier Valley.
37
Remy
Eight Months Ago
Just before dawn, Ripley and I left the S.S.Barbarabelle to prowl the forests to the west of the river.Out here, it was quiet.Most of the towering trees were evergreen, insulating us from the outside world between the bare skeletons of aspen and paper birch.Snow hadn’t yet blanketed the ground, but frost lingered in the mornings, making my steps crunch underfoot.
Our days usually began this way, with us out hunting to feed the many mouths that lived aboard the boat.It was early November, which meant winter and harsh temperatures – and the deluge of snow that went along with it – were likely any time now.
But we also left to hunt because Ripley was bored and restless cooped up on the floating hotel.By my best guess, she was at least ten years old, over three-hundred-pounds, and presumably an African lioness.She’d likely been born into captivity, since I’d found her chained to a truck outside Las Vegas.
Even with that, Ripley wasn’t domesticated in a traditional sense, not like a dog or even a housecat.We’d been together long enough that we had a bond and an understanding, but sometimes she’d run off into the woods, and I wouldn’t see her for hours.
Most days, though, she spent our time on land sleeping in the sun puddles she found between the trees.If I was being honest, I spent more time walking around the forest than she did.
Maybe I was the one that was restless.
Lately, I’d been travelling farther away, so that kept us gone even longer.That wasn’t so much a choice as a necessity.On the land near where the boat was anchored, we had our gardens, stables, and barns.All of that commotion from people and livestock had started scaring away the prey.
The past couple weeks, I had mainly been getting grouse and ptarmigans.Game birds weren’t bad, and I was happy to be bringing back much needed protein, but it would be nice to get something fattier and juicier than woodsy poultry.
That’s why I was excited when Ripley gave chase so early in the day.I barely caught sight of a young doe weaving through the trees with the lioness hot on her trail.The deer must’ve seen me, too, because she abruptly doubled back, narrowly avoiding a swat of Ripley’s powerful paw.
The doe was running back toward the river, and I bolted to the left, hoping to be able to get ahead of her so Ripley would chase her right to me.
When I could hear them crashing behind me – the lion wasn’t nearly as silent running through the underbrush as the swift moving deer – I knew my plan had worked.
Quickly, I crouched down in a thicket of spruce, and I settled into the shot with my bow.Then I saw the flash of movement.
For one clear moment, the world narrowed in around me.I loosed the arrow, watching it slice through the air as it flew toward my mark.
I hurried out to check my kill, branches grabbing at my clothes, and I wondered dimly why Ripley wasn’t here.She had been right on the deer’s tail, so she should’ve reached her by the time the doe had fallen.
And then I foundher.I could see the body, with the arrow jutting out of it, but I couldn’t make sense of it.The world seemed to tilt as I stumbled into a clearing.
There, lying motionless on the frosted ground, instead of my intended prey, was a child.A blossom of red blood darkened the front of her wool sweater.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered in a panicked breath, and as I staggered toward her, I realized that I knew this child.
She was Clementine Dumont, the seven-year-old daughter of the Barbarabelle’s nurse, Mika.I never spent much time with the children, outside of my niece Fae, and really, I didn’t spend much time withmostof the residents of the boat, outside my family.
But Clementine was the kind of child that was impossible to ignore.Bold, curious, adventurous, fearless, and outgoing.She sought me out every time she saw me because she loved Ripley.Even when the lioness wasn’t with me, Clementine would still run over and ask me about her.
And now she was lying in the dirt, her dark hair tangled with pine needles, her eyes wide toward the clear blue sky.The arrow was center of her chest, run straight clean through her.Blood was seeping from her mouth, and a gargled sound came from her throat.
“No, Clem,no!”I collapsed on the ground beside her as she sputtered, and I watched as the light left her eyes.“Clementine!”
I grabbed her, pulling her onto my lap, even though I didn’t know what to do.I didn’t know how to help her.She couldn’t be helped, and I knew it, deep down in the sick heavy feeling in my stomach, I knew I couldn’t do anything, but I didn’t want her to be alone.