The Cellar: A Post-Apocalyptic Novella Read Online Free PDF Page B

focus on the fact that the person in disguise had dropped a pristine can of beans. If there was a stash of food somewhere—food that somehow managed to stay fresh—then it would mean much more than twelve scrawny rodents. He might be able to give the village food for a few more weeks…or months, even.
    The tracks wound their way deep into the forest and showed no signs of ending. He tripped over twigs and tree roots as he followed them. Soon it became too dark to follow the tracks. He looked around him and saw endless rows of trees. He’d never penetrated this far into the forest before. In his haste, he had forgotten to bring a torch, and without it, he couldn’t find his way back. He cursed and kicked a nearby trunk in frustration. The path had gone on farther than he had expected. He was so focused on finding the food stash for the village that he missed the chance to go back the moment light began to fade.
    He sat down with his back to a tree and rested his head on the trunk. The safest thing for him to do was to stay put and wait for help or daylight, whichever came first, provided no raiding clans crossed paths with him. He hadn’t seen any human tracks so he could safely bet that he was fairly clear of their territory.
    In his mind’s eye, he could see Arianna, pacing on the wooden platform and looking over the wall. She’d be wondering and worried and totally pissed off. She’d eventually send a search party to look for him, and she’d make sure he wasn’t dead so she could do the job herself.
    He sighed and hugged his knees close to his chest. He kept reliving the moment he showed her the rats. The look of utter disappointment in her face still stung him deeply. It was yet another failed attempt to make her proud of him.
    What good did all his efforts do if starvation always loomed just ahead of the village? Every waking moment was a battle to find the next meal. It was the sole driving force of their existence, and he loathed it. There had to be a better way, and somehow he knew the answer lay with the cloaked figure.
    Exhaustion finally claimed him, and he drifted off into a dream. He was caught in the midst of a thick fog. Everywhere he turned was a thick soup of impenetrable white. He felt like he was about to suffocate when a figure appeared in the distance and began to approach. From the shape and sway of the hips, it was distinctly feminine. It was Lara, striding out of the fog as it swished around her in wisps. She wore a sleeveless green tunic, brown pants and leather boots. Her long red hair framed her face and her vivid green eyes. She stood there and gazed right at him. Then she smiled. He’d never seen her smile that way before. He held his breath as she reached out to touch his face. He didn’t want to wake up.
    But that is exactly what he did.
    Torches were everywhere. Torches and sharp metal edges reflecting the light. He blinked his eyes twice and rubbed them. It seemed like Arianna’s search party had found him.
    “You guys couldn’t have waited maybe just a few minutes?” He looked up and squinted at the group. “I was having one hell of a dream.”
    He looked at the faces of his rescuers, then stood up in shock and backed into a defensive position. Tiny round scars covered their arms, face, neck and chest. Judging from the pattern, it looked like the scars were made by design. Each one of them had a symbol branded on their upper arm: a circle with a cross in the middle. It was a raider clan.
    A man with a shiny, hairless scalp stepped forward. His blond beard was tied into two little braids that dangled from his chin. Scarred bumps formed a series of whorls on his forehead and extended down to his cheeks.
    Daren reached for the knife strapped to his leg. The sheath was empty. He looked at the belt of the man in front of him. Daren’s knife was strapped to it.
    “Sorry to interrupt your dream, boy.” The man’s teeth had been filed down into sharp edges. “But I was just