Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [187]
The darbaba cart creaked to a halt, and Wataru jumped down onto the ground. Meena was lying next to the front wheel, face down, out cold. Her cheek was stained red with blood.
“Yowch!” Kee Keema shouted from atop the cart. “Wataru, get down!”
Wataru glanced around and saw an arrow stuck deep into the waterkin’s right shoulder. The arrow was fletched with venomously red feathers.
“They’re firing from the trees! Hide underneath the cart!” Kee Keema barked, crawling off the driver’s platform. He seemed to be moving clumsily, in slow motion. It looks like he’s drunk—like he’s swimming through water.
“This is bad. This…”
Several sharp noises came all at once, and Wataru saw a whole quiver’s worth of arrows thwunk into the cart frame right above his head. One even came close enough to graze the tip of his nose.
“Paralytic…” Kee Keema gasped, falling to the ground like a sandbag. Unthinking, Wataru ran to him. His eyes were closed, and his long tongue hung limp through his teeth.
“No, Kee Keema! Wake up!”
Wataru felt a fiery sting in his right leg. He looked down to see an arrow protruding from his calf. For a moment he stared at it dumbly, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Blood immediately began to seep from the wound. Wataru reached down and pulled out the arrow. To his chagrin, the flow of blood increased. His pants were soon stained a dark crimson.
The world around him began to spin. Up became down, down became up. The thick scent of the sula trees assaulted his nostrils. His tongue felt numb. He tried to move his hands, but they seemed frozen. He felt his knees begin to knock…
Then he collapsed to the forest floor, flopping over forward, like a student falling asleep on his desk after an all-night cram session. He fell across Kee Keema, feeling his own body rise with Kee Keema’s breathing.
At least he’s still alive.
Two feet in leather sandals appeared in his field of vision, just before his eyes closed. Sturdy sandals. Strong legs. “We only need the boy,” he heard a cold voice say. “Toss the other two. They’ll never be able to survive in the woods.”
Then Wataru plunged into darkness.
A low, whispering sound coming from somewhere.
Where?
Where am I?
I’m asleep. I’m lying on the floor in my living room. Mom would get so mad. “If you’re going to nap, do it on the sofa! Don’t roll about like a dog. You’ve got a dust allergy, you know! Do you want to be sneezing the whole day?”
But I like it here—the feel of the hardwood flooring on my cheek. Cool in the summer, and right where the heater fan blows out warm air in the winter. I can stretch here, I don’t sink in, the ceiling is so far away…
But something hurts. And what’s that noise? I wish it would go away. Sounds like moths flying through an open window. They’re hovering around my face. I have to brush them away—lift my hand—brush them away…
“Wataru. Wataru, wake up!” came a clear voice from above him. It was a sweet voice. He remembered having heard it somewhere before. A girl’s voice.
“I said get up, Wataru, up! You have to escape! Please! You don’t know how much trouble you’re in!”
The voice made his ears throb. Wataru closed his eyes. Escape? Why? I’m just lying on the floor in my living room…
My body hurts. This floor—this isn’t the wood floor in our apartment. My leg hurts. My right calf. An iron claw, stuck in my calf. What is that?
Something was moving by Wataru’s head. Rustle…rustle. He tensed, and the sleepiness faded from him in an instant. He tried to jump to his feet, and the pain in his leg flared. He looked down to see a filthy rag wrapped around his pant leg. It was stained the color of dried blood.
Suddenly it all came rushing back to him. The attack on the darbaba cart, Meena and Kee Keema, the two sandaled feet he had seen just before he passed out, the cold voice giving orders.
He was in a square room. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all that same whitish rock as the hospital he had seen in the distance. That’s why it’s so hard and cold. Wataru saw a single door in the room. Looks heavy. Locked, of course. On the