Chapter 5: Running

Because of Nobu’s possessiveness and Aky’s increasing familiarity, the two friends were only able to spend time together every few days. In between, Neta suffered through Nobu’s tantrums and selfish rutting. While Aky kept bragging about her bride price, he still hadn’t been able to deliver on the first installment without taking food off his own table. Her father dismissed this as all but a formality, meaning Khea was expected to act as a wife in all but her bed. However, the need to feed Khea has also been pushing the bride price and the eventual wedding further and further into the future.

While killing a single deer wasn’t a serious chore, bucks were rarer and more alert to the presence of hunters. The men also hunted in groups to make things easier, so even two successful kills may only net a hunter a quarter of an animal. After the Chief’s portion, delivering a whole carcass required a hunter used to hunting alone or hunting far more regularly than most established groups did. Unlike other debts, bride prices or their installments were expected to be paid as a single, intact gift.

Even when they did find time to spend together, it took a few visits before Neta had the courage to bring the subject up again.

“I’ve been thinking about your escape plan.”

“More fantasizing?” Khea teased.

“It started that way, but now I find myself treating it seriously.”

Khea’s surprise was evident.

Neta continued, “I’ve tried to understand why I was giving it so much thought. I’m starting to think that, while it would be very dangerous, it can’t be much worse for me than now. What I don’t know is how serious you are about it.”

Khea stifled her instinct to make a quick or lighthearted response. If her friend was serious, she was showing a tremendous amount of vulnerability, even to a close friend. While Khea’s question almost a moon ago could be passed off as fantasy or frivolous chat, seriously discussing the topic was social suicide at best and could even be considered treachery by the Chief. She didn’t even want to think about the consequences if they were caught actually escaping.

“You’re serious about this,” Khea confirmed.

“Yes.” Neta waited for a follow-up question that never came. “I gave you a list of reasons why not. I think I now have a list of reasons why.

With just two of us, we wouldn’t need that much food. Between our gathering skills and your ability to set snares” (Neta winked at her friend’s “misspent youth”, trying to keep the mood from getting too dark) “we should be able to survive okay on the move. Stockpiling for the winter would be harder, but we could pretend to be representatives of a tribe and trade for cured meat.

As for where we would go, I don’t really care as long as it’s not here. I would miss my mother and father, but I rarely see them anyway, and my father only reminds me of how little he did to help me. I wouldn’t leave you, but if you came with me...” she trailed off.

“Your best argument was how we would avoid being caught. Do you have an answer for that?”

“Actually, yes. Or at least I have an idea. We can’t escape the tribe if they want to come after us. So, we need to stop them from tracking us instead. Or, more specifically, we need to make them think we’re dead.”

“Dead? How do we do that? They’re going to be suspicious if our corpses get up and walk away with packs full of food.”

“We ‘die’ during the escape. If we left some animal blood and old clothes near an animal den, they might think we got attacked while running away. Even if they suspect something, all my father needs is an excuse to call the search off. Aky doesn’t have any reason to complain as he hasn’t come up with the bride price yet, and your father might actually consider not having to feed you a benefit.”

And so slowly, over the next few quarter-moons, the friends started working on their escape plan. Neta began hiding a cache of dried fruits and nuts (something Nobu avoided eating) while Khea squirreled away cured meat from her father’s ambivalent eyes. They both started filling a pack with necessities as they were able to acquire them in an attempt to be as ready as possible if the opportunity arose.

Neta huddled in the back of her tent, trying to avoid Nobu’s eyes. The thunder crashed again as the rainstorm continued to rage outside. Inclement weather was one of the few situations where Neta couldn’t manufacture a reason to avoid her husband. A scratch at the closed flap made Nobu poke his head out, and after a quick conversation with the unknown visitor, he left without saying anything. Even his normal complaints about dinner had been silenced without a cooking fire. Neta didn’t think too much of what her husband—no, she corrected herself, not husband, Nobu—did as he rarely felt the need to explain himself to her.

She was so uninterested, in fact, that she didn’t notice a tall figure quietly slip into her tent until their hand was over her mouth.

“Shh!” the intruder said in a loud whisper, “It’s Khea.” She didn’t need to explain the clandestine approach; getting caught by Nobu or Aky in Neta’s tent would not go well.

“How—? “Neta tried to get out when Khea lifted her hand but was quickly silenced again.

“I traded my bison calf blanket to Albek for a skin of cider last moon—Aky won’t notice it missing until winter, maybe ever. I told Aky that I ‘found’ it while cleaning up, and from there, it wasn’t hard to get him to think of inviting his friend Nobu over to get drunk. I may have provided some hints.” Khea added with a smile.

“They are well on their way to passing out and won’t bother us until the sun comes back up, at least. Everyone else is inside, waiting out the storm. It’s dark, the rain is washing away tracks, and our men are minutes away from sleeping like babies. It’s time to go.”

“Now?” Neta exclaimed. “But—”

“Yes, now,” Khea overruled. “Neta, we already decided. We’ve done as much planning as we can, and we’ve been stockpiling supplies for more than a moon. We were only waiting for the right time, and that time is now. We don’t have time to discuss it. We leave now, or we never leave.”

Khea grabbed Neta’s escape bag from under a pile of furs and shoved it into her hands, along with her heavy shoes and a fur wrap. Khea was already dressed for the elements, and her bag was just inside the tent flap.

“Are you coming, or am I going back to my tent?” Khea gave her friend one last out.

It took a few seconds, but Neta set her jaw and replied, “Let’s go. Now or never.”

They both had discussed their plan as much as they could without actually knowing when they would leave. All of their options started by heading to the river. The women had no problems slipping out of the camp towards the latrines and then from there to the riverbank.

There were few wasted words as the pair trudged along the shallows, where the fast-moving runoff would quickly erase any tracks they would leave. Both of them considered their wet and cold feet a fair trade for stealth. In good conditions, it was about an hour’s walk to the branch where “their” river met “the other” river. In the dark and rain, it took the pair well into the night before they reached the planned crossing. With luck, they had until the morning before anyone would know they were missing. The storm showed no signs of weakening, and while that made their progress much slower, it would also delay anyone raising an alarm in camp.

At the joining of the rivers, the two friends prepared for their crossing. Just upstream of the join in their branch of the river, there was a large rock just over halfway across. Neta had collected any leftover or discarded lacings, then braided and tied them together to create a makeshift rope. Normally, crossings were never made this near to the river branch—another misdirection in their plan—and the idea was to tie themselves together and use the rock to edge their way across. That plan hadn’t taken into account the additional inches of rainwater or the increased flow.

After tying themselves together, Neta moved first. If the crossing turned disastrous, Khea’s additional strength would be better able to pull Neta’s smaller size to safety. The sandy beach quickly gave way to slippery mud and algae-covered stones. The clouds obscured most of the moonlight, and the darkness was almost complete except when punctuated with strobes of lightning. Moving mostly by feel, Neta crept across the river. She lost her footing often, resorting to crawling when the river was shallow enough. Near the center, she had to be saved by Khea’s pull on the rope before she could regain her purchase, and each stumble erased much of her progress.

Neither fugitive risked shouting loud enough to be heard over the river, but when Neta looked up the bank, Khea was just visible as a silhouette in the dim light of the cloud-covered moon. Khea encouraged her onward with large hand movements. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Neta was able to grab hold of the rock that marked the halfway point in their crossing. Neta let the current hold her against the upstream face and risked a few minutes of rest.

With the rope anchored in the center of the river, Khea’s first leg across was (relatively) simple as she could pull herself across. Together, in the center of a river, on top of a wet rock, the two friends shared a cold embrace, a few tears, and their first words in the last hour.

“Are you okay? Hurt anywhere?” Khea asked.

“No, I’m cold but fine. Are you okay?”

“I’m not hurt, but I’m going to need a few minutes before we continue.”

“Me too. I’m not looking forward to the next half.” Neta answered, looking longingly back at the bank where they had come from. “Maybe we should go back? Do you think we can make it?”

“Hey! We’re going as far as we can, remember? All that’s left is more. Nothing new, nothing harder, just more. We’ve made it this far, and we can make it the rest of the way, okay?”

Neta nodded, “Okay. All the way.”

At Khea’s ready signal, Neta started the last leg of her crossing, again secured by Khea’s grip on the rope. She slowly worked her way across the longer and deeper half of the river. All the lessons she learned in the first half improved her performance, and her confidence in both her abilities and the attempt as a whole slowly climbed. She leaned into the current, digging her toes in between rocks or simply shoving them into the river floor. She moved inches with each step, knowing that pace would avoid falling and losing progress. The trip wasn’t without excitement, however. She still slipped several times due to lost footing and was pushed fully under the water twice. She was now completely soaked, and her body temperature was dropping. Despite the warm summer temperatures of the river, the water was cold enough that she started shivering uncontrollably. The shivers weren’t extreme, but they were just enough to affect her muscle control.

Focused on the shoreline that was now in sight, Neta barely had time to see the large shadow as it rushed at her from upstream. A large branch, washed into the river by the rain, slammed into her shoulder. The branch was not very heavy and passed by in an instant, but the impact was just enough to rip the strap on her pack. Her pack was still looped over her other shoulder, but the unbalanced drag in the water, plus the impact of the log, pushed Neta over onto her back and then downstream. The current was pulling her taught against the rope and rushing over her face. She could not see anything, but she could feel the pack peeling off her other shoulder. The pack slipped the rest of the way, but Neta was able to snag the arm loop just as it passed by her hand. The pack now acted as a sea anchor, pulling her arm firmly downstream from the rope and keeping her body horizontal.

If she was above water, she would probably have been able to hear Khea’s screams as she hauled on the rope. Her friend had disappeared into the darkness of the river, and only the tautness of the rope told her that Neta’s body, dead or alive, was at the other end.

Miraculously, Neta had snagged her pack just in time, and Khea was pulling hard on the rope to drag her back to safety. However, the two actions were working against each other. With Neta horizontal, the rope tied around her waist no longer had a firm grip. It was slowly sliding down her body. If Neta lost the rope, she would be washed out to the larger river and almost certainly drowned. With all her strength, she bent her body and reached with her opposite hand, just able to slip a finger into her waist loop, which was now almost at her knees.

While Neta had a grip on both her pack and the rope, both were tenuous and being stretched between them kept her face underwater. She had to choose between one or the other, and she had to do it quickly. While the decision might seem obvious, Neta was having a hard time letting go of the pack. It contained more than half the food, all her extra clothing, her blankets, and half of all their other supplies.

The decision ran through Neta’s mind for what seemed like hours, but eventually, she let the pack go. The change was almost immediate. No longer anchored by the pack, she could bring her other arm up to grab the rope. More importantly, she was no longer forced below water and gasped for air as she broke the surface. Flailing around, she finally was able to find the riverbed with her feet and brought herself more or less upright, only to see Khea reach out and grab the front of her shirt. She was dragged roughly back to the rock and Khea’s embrace.