Young Writers Society

Chapter Eighteen: Link, if You're not in This Forest, You Don't Exist

“If you do nots get up, no nore camp, it,” Rowan said, nudging me with her foot.

For the past few minutes, she had been prompting me to get up so we could continue our search. However, the pressure of searching the whole forest was too much. I could feel the great weight against me, acting like an ocean’s worth of water trying to drown me. I attempted the act of getting up, but my limbs would not obey.

Move! my brain screamed. Move! We need to get up! Link’s missing and we’re only letting everyone down.

“Molly, Link, Cora, Rowan, Griffin, Silvia, and Christian. Link is not!” Rowan urged.

I managed to part my lips slightly and inhaled shakily. My hand went instinctively to the wood chip and my fingers started to rub its old surface. Great, I was in control of my body a little. Trying to see how far I could take my mobility, I shifted myself onto my toes and started to rise. My movements were slow and shaky. I could feel my bones creaking slightly, although I hadn’t been on my knees long enough for that to happen. I managed to rise to my full height and took a deep, relaxing breath.

“R-ready,” I managed in a soft whisper.

Rowan smiled and nodded. She then secured her slim fingers around my elbow and guided me through the trees. Her grip was firm and her slightly pointed nails dug into my skin. This made it slightly uncomfortable, but I knew that I wouldn’t receive scratches.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

The noise of feet snapping twigs and our knees rustling on bushes was all that filled the silence as I waited for a response. I asked again, but Rowan just turned her head slightly so that I could see the adventurous glint in her eye that sent shivers up my spine. That clearly meant trouble.

“Rowan,” I warned, starting to pull my arm away.

My cabin mate shot me a warning look. “Scratches are what you receive if you continue to being so impatient and just waitest moments.”

I stopped wriggling and gave her a warning look of her own. I didn’t quite understand what was so impatient about my demeanor at that moment, but I didn’t dare argue with her.

At last, we broke into a familiar-looking clearing and I stopped in my tracks. Seriously, Rowan? my mind whined. There was no way I was getting closer to that thing than I needed to.

“You don’t think he’s in there, do you?” I asked.

Rowan shrugged. “Good as place as any.”

She started towards it and I sighed, knowing that I had to follow her into the shed.

We rounded to the back of the ancient contraption where the weeds were way more abundant. Stems of browning thorns and stalks of other, unhealthy-looking weeds wound themselves around the trees and overtook the places where the forest’s many ferns would usually reside. We had to trudge through a small, thick patch of them, only to receive stinging scratches on our shins.

We approached what would be the door, only to find that it was held shut by a rusty lock that required a key. They key, for all we knew, could have probably been misplaced or thrown out at some point in history.

“Option’s out,” Rowan said, fingering the lock.

I felt a flash of annoyance and my fists clenched slightly. Rowan just had to drag me to this stupid, creepy shed only to find that it was locked? What was she thinking? Did she have any idea what could be hiding in there?

Rowan had chosen that moment to look back, only to turn right back around, probably so she wouldn’t have to see my angry face. “Let’s face it, it was a good idea. It’s not my fault that it is locked, or yours or Link’s or Bethany’s. Probably dangerous or something.”

I took a deep breath, releasing the anger from my body. There was no use getting angry at Rowan for something that wasn’t even her fault.

Suddenly, something caught my eye. Embedded deep into the aged wood of the shed were slash marks. Or could they have been claw marks? I kneeled down and examined them. They were long and close together like zebra stripes. Some of them had created many splinters, while others had cut clean. I ran my finger over one of them thoughtfully, trying to decide what had put them there.

“What are you looking at?” Rowan inquired.

I motioned for her to join me and we began examining the scratches together.

“What do you think it is?” I wondered.

Rowan shook her head. “No clue. But it was probably something vicious and dangerous.”

Could it have been a bear or a feral cat? What about some sort of bug? Maybe the weather had done it? Maybe…

I gasped at the thought. “Maybe it took Link.”