Rin

 

 

 

Targon wakes me before the first rays of sunlight break over the horizon. I can see that he’s tired. He was already intent on staying up through the night to watch over me. But after we spotted the Other-Worlders, he went into protective-mode overdrive. Several times in the night I woke up to him flying up into the sky to take a peek at our surroundings, or getting all riled up, the spikes along his spine all puffed up like the fur of an agitated cat. And some of the things he was thinking, well… they carried over into my dreams.

But I don’t want to get into that.

The air is chilly this morning and the sky glows in pinks and reds. The stars are still visible, slowly fading as the day approaches, and I look for the constellation Rin one last time before we go. It makes me smile when I remember the words he spoke to me last night, and that combined with the thought of finding my friends today gives me a boost of optimistic energy that gets me started on the right foot. I just hope my friends are the only beings we run into.

I’m riding high on Targon’s back again, and I’m getting a lot more comfortable with the idea of flying around like this. It’s like having my own private jet. We’re heading directly for the spot on the horizon where the blue flashes occurred. For some time there is nothing but jungle below, but then I see a big clearing of red rock ahead of us. It looks like a bloody scar amid the continuous green of the trees. I raise my hand to my face, shielding my eyes from the glare of the midday sun. We get closer. Details begin to emerge: boulders and a rut cutting through the stone where a stream once flowed. There is a cave at the edge of the clearing, and then I see something flash in the sunlight.

I point over Targon’s shoulder and he nods, letting me know he saw it too. His wings fold back and we drop, wind whipping through my hair as we dive toward our target. I hold on tight, keeping my eyes on the clearing, and a moment later my heart nearly stops in my chest.

It’s the helicopter, glinting as we bank toward the ground. This is the first time I’ve seen the crash in its entirety, and it looks awful. The entire front end of the helicopter is destroyed. Bits and pieces of it are strewn everywhere. The tail section sticks from the wreckage, drooping in agony, and the small section of fuselage where we were seated is crumpled. It’s a miracle we all survived.

But the girls and I did survive. And now we’re here.

We found the wreck!

A burst of excitement shoots through me. We are about a football field away from the crash site, closing in fast. I’m straining my neck to get a better view, raising myself up as I scan the clearing for signs of activity. I get so excited Targon has to reach back and push me down onto my butt. Good idea, I think to myself. It would be pretty ironic to fall off Targon and plummet do my death just as I’m thinking about how lucky we were to survive the crash. But I can barely contain myself.

“Do you see anyone?” I say into his ear. I’m looking for makeshift structures, improvised shelter, camp fire pits, anything that would indicate that the ladies have been out and about, but so far I haven’t seen a thing. Then we touch down. Targon bows his head and I jump onto the ground, wobbly for a moment as I get my land-legs back. Red dust kicks up around my feet. My head is flitting side to side. Where is everyone? Targon starts sniffing around while I run over to the helicopter. There’s no one inside. At least the pilot is gone. That means they must’ve gotten him out and buried him somewhere nearby. I jog out into the middle of the clearing and stop.

“Is anyone here?” I call out, staying perfectly still as I listen.

The wind whistles through the jungle beyond. All around me the bugs of this world buzz and hum. The tail of the helicopter creaks as it sways in the breeze. I can hear myself breathing, and feel the quick beating of my heart behind my ears. But there is no response.

“Hello,” I say again, louder this time. A soft voice calls back, but it’s only my own cry echoing from the cave. Then I hear Targon’s voice inside my head.

I’ve found something.

I rush over to Targon. As soon as I see what he’s found, the wind is sucked out of me. In his hand is a black-tipped spear. He points to the ground, drawing my attention to where the soil has been disturbed. There are five-toed footprints mixed with patterns from the bottom of hiking shoes. They’re all over, as if there was a scuffle, and then they lead off into the jungle.

“The footprints could possibly all belong to the girls,” I say, but I don’t really believe it. I know I’m just saying the words to try and comfort myself. The footprints are way bigger than the shoe prints. It is almost certain they were made by large men, like the ones who took me to the temple that first night. Targon notices the worry and confusion on my face and transforms into human form. He walks over to me and takes my chin in his hand.

Your friends might’ve left when they saw the Vikon approaching. The footprints could’ve been made at different times.

I nod in agreement, but not because I agree. It’s an automatic response, while inside I’m roiling with doubt.

I yell out again as I pace rapidly up and down the clearing. Adrenaline and fear are coursing through my veins, and I can’t seem to stand still. I need to keep moving, keep calling out, or despair will take hold. I can already feel it creeping into my mind, and the last thing I want to do right now is lose hope. I’ve come too far, and been through too much. I don’t think I could take it if my friends were all gone.

My knees are wobbly beneath me. I call out over and over, feeling dizzy and light headed, doing my best to keep moving as panic sets in. But then I hear a faint voice call out from behind me. I turn. It came from the cave. The idea enters my head that it was just an echo of my own voice again, but I call out anyway.

“Hello, is anyone in there?”

It’s dead quiet again. Just my heart pounding. And then I hear it again. I strain my ears the cry is so meek. I’m sure of it now. Someone else is in there.

“Is that you, Rin?”

I rush over, standing at the entrance, my eyes wide like saucers. Suddenly my senses have returned to me. My thoughts clear as the weight of despair lifts away. A second later a tiny, dirty face peeks out from around the corner. Stringy, dirty hair hangs down. It takes a few moments to register, and for some time the half-concealed face remains there, staring back at me with uncertainty. But then she steps out into the open.

It’s Tina.