The Hunting: Ch 22

Instructions

Tw: none (if there is a trigger please let me know) The car bounces back and forth over the dusty, pothole-infested lane. It’s been over half an hour since we left the small village and the Hunters behind. We’re in the middle of nowhere, a wasteland of tree stumps and rusty metal. “This is a tree graveyard,” Onyx murmurs, starling out the window as the landscape flashes by. “People logged this place until there was nothing left.” “Logging?” Winter says. “It’s hard to imagine when people had to cut down trees for wood and paper. Before they grew fake wood from petri dishes.” “My mother had a real wooden desk in our home,” I blurt, before I can realize what I’m saying. “It was-different from the fake wood.” The real wood was rough and grainy to the touch, and it smelled like forests and pine needles, not of sterilized soap like the fake kind. The fake wood is smooth, almost rubbery in texture, and while it’s what most people use to build houses and furniture nowadays, I always felt like the real wood was better. “How did your mother get a real wood desk?” Onyx peers at me. “Those are extremely rare, not to mention they probably cost hundreds of dollars.” “Er…” I squirm under her piercing gaze. “My mother had a lot of money.” The next fifteen minutes is terribly awkward. I can feel Onyx’s eyes watching me like-not like a hawk. More like a crow. Keen, piercing, curious. *** “Here we are!” Nadia calls. I lean forward in my seat. We’ve arrived at what seems to be a fairly well-sized, respectable town-the kind that’s almost big enough to be a city, but retains the quaint charm of a rural English village. “What is this place?” Winter asks. “It’s called Wildheart,” Nadia grips the steering wheel tighter. “It popped up after Dawkins set up his lodge. Don’t be fooled. It looks cutesy and innocent, but it has more Hunters than any other city put together.” Sure enough, I spot at least two other Hunter vans crawling through the streets, and a group of camouflage men strolling along the sidewalk. “You have to take off your gear,” Nadia hisses. “They’ll know something is up.” Winter obeys immediately, pulling off his silver wolf mask and stashing it under the seat. Begrudgingly, Onyx unclips her crow tail. “Juniper, you too,” I instinctively clap my hands to the red squirrel mask covering my face. What if- When they see my face- What if they’ll know? Because everyone tells me how much I look like my mother. “Go on,” Onyx urges as I push the mask up hesitantly and let it drop to the floor. Onyx grins. “For someone so desperate to hide your face, it’s actually quite pretty.” I turn away, a red blush spreading over my cheeks. Thank god. They don’t know. Winter stares at my face for a second, wearing a look of mild confusement. “Your face…it looks familiar.” “Um, It does?” I falter. “Nevermind,” He sighs.