The Travelers, part 4

Taylor found it difficult to keep up with Thoren's quick, long strides. For a long time, neither said anything. Their breathing came out in short gasps, souding horribly loud in the vast, silent forest. Every so often Thoren would glance back; Taylor guessed he was checking to see if she was still behind him. Very suddenly, Thoren stopped and looked around. He held up his hand, motioning for her to to keep quiet. Then he lurched to the right, and Taylor heard a shrill squawking, and the beat of a bird's wings. Then all was silent again. Thoren reappeared, holding a crow by its legs.
"You--" Taylor began, but she felt a bit queasy.
"What?" Thoren said. "I'm hungry. Aren't you?"
Taylor shrugged. "I guess."
Thoren set the bird down on a flat rock and began gathering up some wood. "Hand me some of that bark, will you?"
She knelt down, and gathered up as much dead bark as she could carry, and brought it to Thoren.
"Thank you."
He drew something out of his pocket; Taylor realized it was flint and steel. Her father brought this whenever her family went camping. If only she could be back at home with her family, right now. There was nothing she could do about it now. She could only hope that soon, she could find Frank, and they would be able to go home.
"So," Thoren said, as he fed the small flame he had ignited, "you haven't told me who you are."
Taylor squinted at him across the fire. "I'm Taylor."
"Nice to meet you," Thoren said, "Although I'm sorry about the circumstances."
"What do you mean by that?" Taylor asked in frustration. "You've hardly told me anything about this, what are they called? Squad Number 5. Actually, you've hardly said anything at all."
"I can't track them while talking," Thoren said.
Taylor eyed him dubiously. Thoren sighed, shrugging.
"I can hear them walking; I know in what direction they lie, in what direction they're heading, and how far they are from us. But when I'm talking, I can't hear them."
He sat down, picked up the crow, and began to pluck its feathers. Taylor didn't like the look of this process; she turned her head away.
"Squad Number 5 is probably taking your friend to Passage Erhardt," Thoren said. "That, of course, is also a code name."
"Of course," Taylor said, sarcastically.
"You think you're being tricked?" Thoren said to her, angrily, "You think your friend set this up for some reason, to scare you or something? If he did, then I can say for certain that he's no good friend. None of this is a joke. Squad Number 5 is powerful. They can do whatever they want, whenever they want to."
"So you've said!" Taylor responded, "But I want to know why. And why did they take Frank? He's just a kid, like me."
Thoren shook his head. "There are some things I just can't tell you."
"Can you tell me why you're helping me?" Taylor said, "I mean, you must be part of Squad Number 5."
"Am I?" Thoren said, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Well, I thought..." She began.
"You thought, you thought!" Thoren cried. "Isn't that what got you into this whole mess? You thought it would be fun to go to that party; you thought those directions you got online would work. You thought that going through Trenton Valley would be a shortcut."
Taylor stared at him, dumbfounded.
"How do you know all that?" She said, quietly.
"My knife is sitting in that sheath by the fire," Thoren said, his eyes attentive to the bird in his hands. "Can you hand it to me?"
Taylor sighed and reached for the leather sheath. She pulled the knife out--a seven-inch blade with a polished wooden handle--and handed it to Thoren.
"Feed the fire, will you?" Thoren asked, still not taking his eyes off the crow.
Taylor grabbed some dry wood and began to drop it into the flames. Apparently, their conversation was over.
'The Travelers', Copyright 2012, by Katy Allie. All rights reserved.