Eleven : Bridge
Tommy POV
We trudged through the snow in silence. The crunching of snow under our shoes and the bitter cold were constant. Minho led the way, his limp slightly better than before. Newt was in front of me with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, the sleeves still torn. I carried the tent and my backpack. The extra weight made our long trek more tiring, but it also helped keep me warm.
It had been two days since Newt had fallen through the ice, three since the car wreck. So far nothing else chaotic had happened, though I was still weary. The biggest issue on my mind now was our food supplies. We'd eaten the last of the rice last night. I had tried to ration it out but with the cold sapping our energy and the constant moving, we really couldn't afford to. We needed the extra calories, and so far we just weren't getting them. Hunger was slowly becoming our constant enemy. And strangely, we had yet to see any large animals. As if the two moose who wrecked our hummer had been conjured there just for that purpose and then disappeared. Knowing how WICKED operated, I wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly what had happened.
'Thomas," Minho said suddenly and both Newt and I paused, looking up at him. He had stopped walking and was pointing down at the snow to his left. I frowned and stepped forward.
"What is it?"
"Tracks. Deer, from the looks of it." He was smiling, and the same thought raced through my mind. Meat. The small, cloven footprints led away from the road, weaving through the trees.
"It's the first thing we've seen out here. We have to check it out." Newt said from behind me. I nodded and swung my backpack off my shoulder. The launcher was tucked safely away inside it. Minho was doing the same thing, and I heard Newt pulling his own out.
"Let's go, quietly." I said and began following the tracks. They were fresh, and looked like two sets. Two deer. Two opportunities for dinner.
Minho had split away from Newt and I as we silently stepped through the forest. We moved slowly enough that our footsteps were muffled. Stealth would be our best bet, but I was worried we'd be seen against the white snow. I looked over at Minho as he crouched to look at the tracks. He pointed to the right and kept moving forward. We followed.
A pair of cardinals were flying overhead, landing in trees next to us, following us. They were the first birds I had seen since starting this journey. Their presence was calming, surprisingly. Like we were finally not the only breathing beings in this massive forest. Minho was to our right but further up ahead. His hand went up suddenly, and Newt froze next to me. The deer was just up ahead, its head down as it pawed away snow to expose the frozen earth. It nibbled at small tufts of yellowed grass. Minho moved then, silently positioning himself behind a tree. He motioned for us to do the same.
Now on the left side of the deer, and behind a couple trees, I could make the creature out more clearly. It was a doe, and she was on the thinner side. The winter obviously hadn't been kind to her either. Newt crouched low next to me, his launcher held up but not properly lined up. Minho would have to take the shot. I could see his dark hair poking out from behind a tree 20 feet across from us. The deer continued to eat and I could hear her chewing the thin blades of grass. But then Newt's stomach growled, breaking the silence. The deer's head shot up, staring straight towards our tree. I ducked my head back, and Newt had wrapped his arms around his middle, holding his breath. The sudden blast of the launcher made me jump.
"Damnit!" I heard Minho curse. I looked around the tree and saw that he had missed, and the deer was running through the trees, her white tail held high. "Which one of you blew our cover?" He was stomping towards us. Newt slowly stood.
"It's not exactly my fault." He muttered, his eyes glancing back towards where the deer had now disappeared. Minho marched up to him and poked a finger into his chest.
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Hey, hey," I moved between them, pushing Minho back with one hand. He was glaring at Newt. "We'll just try again."
"It'll take us all day to find it again, and now it knows it's being followed." Minho sighed, a large cloud of fog in the air. "That was literally our best shot."
"We'll try again." I repeated but Minho scoffed and stepped away, running his hands through his hair. I caught Newt's eye. It had been his fault that the deer spooked, but it was also unavoidable. With a silent forest, any sound would have alerted the deer. It was nearly impossible to hide three starving boys. If not Newt, it probably would have been me.
"Just our shuck luck. The second one's probably long gone too." Minho grunted as he threw a rock against a tree. It thudded hard and a few sprinkles of snow fell from the branches.
"Let's keep moving." I sighed and began tracing our steps back to the main road. Minho grumbled something behind me but I didn't look back.
…
Our bad luck made a turn for the worse several hours later. A storm was evident on the horizon. Wind was beginning to pick up, blowing snow flurries around us and settling it in our hair and clothes. I grit my teeth and lowered my head against it, keeping my eyes on the back of Newt's heels in front of me.
"We need to find shelter!" Minho shouted from up ahead. He was right, but from what I could see, there weren't any options. We just had to keep moving forward. Snow was now falling, quickly growing stronger. The wind crept into my coat and chilled my bones.
An hour later Minho was shouting excitedly. I looked up and blinked in surprise. We were coming up on a covered bridge. A covered bridge that probably went over a pond or stream, both of which could contain fish. It was also an ideal place to make camp for the night and wait out the storm.
"Let's stop here for the night!" I said as we got close enough to see through to the other side. The bridge was about 30 feet long and 40 feet high. Long beams of wood held up the walls and thick logs ran along the ceiling. The floor was perfectly flat with long panels of cut wood. Snow had only piled up in the entrance and exit, leaving the middle clear and perfect for our tent. We rushed forward, desperate to get out of the wind. We stopped in the middle and I pulled out the tent with trembling hands.
"Help me." I shuddered and Newt hurried over to position the tent. Within a minute it was ready. Without saying anything, all three of us hurried inside. I just wanted to warm up, then I'd worry about the storm later.
The wind howled outside. Long and mournful and deadly. The bridge blocked nearly all of its powerful gusts, but it did little to prevent the cold. Minho and Newt sat on either side of me, their shoulders pushed up against me. Both were shivering uncontrollably and looked miserable. All of our blankets were out and covering us. Minho had his arms crossed tightly, his head lowered as he clenched his jaw. He had more muscle than either of us, so was faring slightly better. But Newt had his knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, his head leaned down onto his knees as his frame shook. His thin and lanky build was working against him now, making it difficult to stay warm. I reached an arm around his shaking shoulders and pulled him closer. He leaned against me, lifting his head just enough to give me a grateful look.
I opened my eyes, realizing that I'd fallen asleep. It was dark and warm. Warmer than I'd been in a long time. I was laying on my right side under a couple of blankets, my left arm over Newt's chest. He was fast asleep, breathing slowly. I leaned my head into my pillow and sighed, relaxing for a moment. I had a pillow, when did that get there? Newt also had a pillow. Where was Minho? Then the soft sounds of a crackling fire outside the tent answered my question. He must have gotten up and started one. The howling wind had also stopped.
I didn't want to move. The blankets were soft, the pillow comfy, and the warmth under the blankets felt amazing after so long in the snow. Newt breathed evenly next to me. I didn't even care that my arm was over him. Our shared body heat plus the fire warming the interior of the bridge was sheer luxury. But Minho's head popped through the flap of the tent and a smile split his face.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty." He snickered and I rolled my eyes, pulling the blanket up over my face. "You guys look so comfy."
"Go away…" I groaned.
"I have fish." Those three words woke me up. I pulled the blanket back down and stared at him. Minho's smile widened. "The bridge goes over a stream, I managed to get some out."
"How long were we asleep?" I asked and slowly pulled myself out from under the warm blankets. Newt was out cold, not even stirring as I moved.
"4 or 5 hours. The storm stopped over an hour ago." Minho said as I moved outside with him. The air in the bridge wasn't nearly as harsh as the frigid air beyond it. A medium sized fire was roaring in the center of the bridge, maybe 6 feet away from the tent. Rocks had been placed on the bottom and any debris had been cleared away to prevent the bridge from catching fire. I crouched in front of it and raised my hands to warm them.
"I was so tired." I yawned and Minho smirked, taking a seat next to me. "I'm still tired."
"I know." Minho sighed, propping an arm on his knee. He watched the fire quietly. He had been the one who had given us the blankets and pillows.
"Did you sleep?"
"Some, but I was so hungry I had to check out the stream." He said and reached behind him, pulling over a log with 3 small fish on it. Each was about 6 inches long. They wouldn't yield much meat, but it was better than nothing. "I was only able to catch these before it got too dark." I nodded, feeling a strong hunger pang twist my stomach.
Minho took each fish and speared them on a stick but I stood and walked back towards the tent. I stepped inside and looked down at Newt still asleep under the blankets. I crouched next to him and gently shook his shoulder. His eyes cracked open and he groggily looked up at me.
"Hey," I said quietly and he groaned, reaching his hands up to rub his eyes. "Minho caught a few fish, you're hungry right?"
"Yes…" He muttered, pushing himself up into a sitting position. After another moment of processing everything, he slowly stood, pulling the blanket with him and wrapping it around his shoulders. We both walked out of the tent.
"He lives!" Minho smiled and Newt ignored him, sitting down next to the fire. "Here." He passed him a stick with a fish. He gave me one, then began roasting his own over the fire.
Even though the fish was small, it tasted amazing compared to the bland rice we'd been eating. They didn't last long and I wished we had more, but they took the edge off our hunger for now. My first priority in the morning was to catch more. Now we sat around the fire enjoying its warmth. Its orange light bounced and flickered off the walls of the bridge. It had been a lucky find. Again I wondered if WICKED had anything to do with our turn of events. The moose, the deer, this bridge…
Newt lay out on his side, the blanket pulled snuggly over. The fire light danced across his tired face, his closed eyes and messy blonde hair. Minho stoked the fire with one of the fish roasting sticks. Sparks flew into the air and crackled as they settled. I estimated we had walked about 4 miles today. It was less than I would have liked. With the storm and the deer, we had lost some progress. But we couldn't give up, we had to keep moving. We'd get there, whether it was on our own feet and in one of WICKED's bergs.