The Bridge: Chapter Two

It was almost silent as the three of us walked towards the edge of the bridge the next morning. I only heard the sound of the waves as they gently explored the shore before returning to the deep. The sun played on the horizon, toying with the idea of rising. Mist sat on the ocean, and had risen to cover the bridge as well. Behind us, the city walls rose to hide all but the tallest of our buildings.

The people from my village were standing in two rows that extended to the entrance of the bridge. Amis, Cahira and I awkwardly walked down the middle of the soundless path they had made. Cahira held her head high, unafraid to make and maintain eye contact with our watchers. Amis was more cautious, glancing up now and then only to blush and look back down again, nervously playing with the straps of the bulging pack he carried. I stared at the ground, unwilling to look anyone in the eye. I watched as the sand tried to steal my feet with every step, and I kept reaching back to make sure I could feel my knives, my bow, my bag, as if somehow, they had been lost since checking moments before. As I was staring determinedly at the sand and reaching back to check yet again, Cahira came to an abrupt stop. Amis stopped right behind her. I ran into Amis, who turned good-naturedly to make sure I was alright.

I peered around him. Cahira’s aunt and mother stood at the last two places in either row, the last ones on the sand before it became the sturdy metal of the bridge. She glanced at her aunt, but she didn’t say anything. Amis moved to stand between Cahira and her mother, and I took the place to her right. For the first time, I raised my eyes to meet Vis’ gaze.

Her brown eyes were cold and dark. As I studied her, she twisted her face into a predatory grimace. I thought again of the wide mouth of a snake, but I grinned back and tilted my head down, raising an eyebrow slightly as I did so. I turned away before she could retaliate, and looked back out the bridge, my fingers feeling for my knives. I couldn’t see very much, just the ground that was swallowed by the early morning mist. I wondered, for the millionth time, how my parents had died, and I wondered if I would die the same way. I likely would. I could hear Cahira swallow nervously beside me. Maybe she was pondering the same things.

In perfect unison, Cahira’s mother and her aunt bowed low to the ground. I didn’t have to look back to know that all of the villagers did too. It was our deepest sign of respect, rarely used, even in honor of the chief. It must have killed Vis to bow that low to anyone, let alone an ungrateful problem-causer. Still, it was nice, I guess. A proper send-off for the dead ones walking. Without looking at Cahira or Amis, without looking back to my people, I took a deep, somewhat ragged breath.

I stepped forward.

˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

“Maybe the people who died on the bridge died of boredom,” Amis groaned, trudging behind Cahira and I. The sun was directly above us. It had long ago dissipated the mist and had now found pleasure in beating relentlessly down on our heads.

“You’re only bored because you’re not doing anything useful,” Cahira teased, even as she anxiously scanned the horizon. As we went farther on the bridge, it started to gradually incline then decline again in a curious manner. The bridge-hills strained our muscles and limited our line of sight. None of us had our weapons out, but every so often I would see Cahira’s hand twitch towards her bow, as if she had heard a sound above the constant rumble of the ocean beneath us. Amis and started playfully grumbling about holding the packs, and Cahira fell back to walk with him.

I walked ahead, my eyes fixed as far forward on the bridge as I could see. I listened to Cahira and Amis joke, somewhat insincerely, behind me, and I began to worry all over again that I had coerced my friends into a deadly mission. My parents had died on this bridge. Lots of others had too. We had no idea what killed them; there were never any bodies to bury. Just bloody clothing and belongings gathered by the large groups of warriors that went out after. Despite myself, I let the chief’s words rattle around in my brain. Everyone who died was found days after they first went out, but they never made it longer than about a day’s travel, according to where the warriors found their belongings. Whatever killed them, whatever killed my parents, it probably came at night. Whatever it was, it likely was coming tonight, to try and kill me and my friends. Chances are, it would succeed. At least then death would be quick, instead of slowly starving and wasting away to nothing. I just hoped that whatever it was didn’t eat us, or if it did it waited until we were all the way dead.

We stopped to eat a little after midday. Amis unpacked some bread and small flasks of water from his bag. Cahira and I sat facing each other, both of us watching behind the other, as Amis lounged carefree, and somewhat useless, between us.

I finished my food and cleared my throat. “Maybe we should go back,” I said, tapping my fingers anxiously on the ground.

Cahira frowned, but before she could respond Amis said “Don’t be stupid. We’ve almost spent an entire day on this bridge. We have to find food, or help, or both. It’s worth the risk, and we all know it.”

“I’ve already been stupid,” I snapped, “everyone who has ever stayed the night on this bridge has died. Like you said, we’ve already been here almost a day. If we start running back now- “

“And then what?” Cahira retorted. “We die slowly of hunger, along with everyone else we care about? I’d rather take my chances on this bridge if there’s a chance of helping our people.”

I stood up, defensive. “You don’t get it, if you get hurt, if Amis does, its my fault. Your aunt was right, this was a terrible idea and now I’m dragging you both down with me.”

“You’re not dragging anyone anywhere,” Amis said calmly, raising himself to a sitting position. “We both chose to come with you. Whatever happens next, it’s not your fault. You don’t get to take credit for our decisions.”

Cahira nodded, and touched my arm. “The three of us can handle whatever is on this bridge. We’re gonna be okay.” She said firmly, convincing no one.

I looked at her, then at Amis. I nodded slowly, skeptical that they were right, but at least verbally, if not internally, absolved of any hypothetical peril we may encounter.

“Fine,” I said, grabbing my bag, “let’s keep going.”

˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

I first noticed the dirt about an hour later. All day long, we had been walking on the abnormally sturdy metal, though as the sound of the ocean beneath us had grown I became grateful at the proven hardiness of the bridge. I don’t know how long we had been walking on it before I finally noticed the change in texture between my feet to soft and familiar, similar to the woods back home. I looked down and yelped.

“There’s dirt.”

Cahira knelt down and rubbed some between her fingers. “We’re over the open ocean. On a bridge.” She threw the dirt down and looked up at Amis and I, eyebrows raised.

Amis stooped down beside her to inspect the dirt. We were at the top of one of the bridge’s uneven inclines, and I looked back. The dirt seemed to fade gradually back into the bridge from the direction we came.

“I think it’s real,” Amis said slowly. I turned back to them. He was frowning as he carefully studied the dark brown earth that had somehow made its way onto a bridge. He held it comically close to his face, looking as if he would go blind from staring at it from such a short range.

Cahira shrugged. “I guess you would know. How do you think it got here?”

“People maybe? The wind, over time? I don’t know.” I muttered. I glanced uneasily at Amis, then Cahira. Her hand was resting on her bow behind her. Mine instinctively went to my hip, where one of my knives sat nestled in easy reach.

“Maybe this is a good sign? Maybe it means there’s food growing on the other side, or people who can help or something,” Amis replied. “I mean if its from the wind, it has to be from the other side since there’s nothing but sand near the mouth of the bridge on our end. And anyway, if we-”

“Maybe,” I cut him off, “but I think we should keep moving. It’ll be dark soon, and we need to find a good place to set up for the night. I think if we head to the edge of the bridge, I mean the walls are sturdy enough to keep the crosswinds from the ocean off the bridge so maybe it would be a good place to-"

“Reva,” Cahira interrupted, “is that a tree?”

Amis and I turned to look where she pointed. It was too far away to tell, but I could see what definitely seemed to be a tree in the distance. I took off running, Amis and Cahira close behind. As we got closer, more trees materialized. After a few minutes we had reached the tree, but we were no longer concerned with the solitary tree before us. Behind it sat a forest, far more lush and vibrant than the one I had left behind.

I turned back to inspect the tree we had initially come to examine. Cahira was already tearing at the bark and ripping off leaves in an attempt to confirm that it truly was a tree. Amis was beside her, but staring unblinkingly at the forest ahead, mouth hanging open.

“Cahi,” I interjected tentatively, reverting to my childhood nickname for her. She had a knife out now, and she was stabbing it repeatedly into the tree, without a sound or pause. “Cahi,” I tried again, “What do you think?”

She stopped, knife embedded in the tree and hand resting on the bark. Her fingers were bleeding, and as she wiped the sweat off her brow she left behind a faint red trail. She looked up towards the branches and then back to me. “I mean, I think its real. A real tree.” She stopped and yanked her knife out.

Amis turned slowly back around, fingers interlocked behind his head. His eyes were wide and gleaming, and I was reminded of the eccentric woman back home who wandered around the village speaking to herself and shrieking at passerby. He had the same look in his eyes. “No one said anything about a forest. All the search parties that went out, they never said anything, all they said was that the others only ever made it a day out, but never, never did they come back telling stories about the forest on the bridge over the ocean.”

Cahira moved towards him and touched his arm. I shook my head in disbelief. Amis turned towards Cahi and began gently wiping the blood off her forehead. I kept staring and shaking my head, struggling to process the information before me.

I tilted my head and studied the tree again. It was different, from all the ones back home. The leaves were darker and the bark lighter. I pulled a leaf from a low-hanging branch to inspect it more closely. It was thick, and the edges were curved on either side in two smooth projections from the center. I snapped it in half, and a light blue substance leaked out. I tossed it to the ground, which was now covered in grass and a few low-growing plants. I looked back out at the forest and addressed Cahi.

“Your aunt never said anything about a forest on the bridge to you? From the search party reports?

“No, not once. Maybe we made it farther than the others, maybe no one else has ever seen the forest.” She responded, her eyes betraying her low confidence level in what she’d said.

“Maybe. But we still have a good amount of daylight left, and the others, my parents, they would have left early too. I just don’t see how we could have made it farther than they did. It doesn’t make sense.”

Amis started hitting his hands against each other like he did when he was nervous. “Maybe they didn’t tell anyone about the forest to protect them, to keep us from being scared or something,” he said, nodding like he was trying to convince himself.

Cahi shook her head. “Why wouldn’t they tell us though, right before we left? To give us a better chance, to prepare us in some way? There’s no way they don’t know, but they didn’t tell us, and Reva is right, that doesn’t make any sense. Reva,” she paused and looked at me, “what do you want to do? This is your call.”

I looked at Amis, then Cahira beside him. As tall as she was, he stood a full head above her. His scruffy blond hair concealed his forehead and framed his eyes, which were fixed on me, determined despite his obvious nerves, for which I could hardly blame him. Her arms were folded and eyebrows raised in question.

I rested my hand on the handle of my knife, and looked back out to the forest, then from the direction we came, internally debating. The trees would at least provide cover from the sun, and for us to hide more effectively from whatever it was we might need to hide from. On the other hand, there could be any number of dangers rendered invisible by the forest, especially one we were unfamiliar with. We would have cover, but so would everything else. I wanted nothing more than to genuinely call off the whole thing, to go back to the village and head to the south to find nothing and then come defeatedly back to starve along with everyone else. I wanted to be anywhere but here, wondering if my parents had made it to this point and what they had decided to do then, what they would decide to do now if they were here. I tapped my fingers rapidly on my sheathed knife, and took a deep breath.

“We’ll go ahead, into the forest. We’ll keep to the left with the wall of the bridge in our sights at all times. Weapons out, and quiet as we can be. The ground is soft, I haven’t seen any dry leaves, so just watch out for branches. Once we start losing daylight, we stop and set up a few tripwires, maybe some traps. Whatever is out there, we probably can’t stop it with a trap, but we can at least make it so that we hear it coming. Then we all stay up until dark, and after that one of us will sleep at a time, the other two will keep watch. Maybe that way we’ll get at least some sleep. Maybe it won’t matter either way.”

I looked back in the direction of home, and noticed the trail the three of us had left behind when we ran to get to the first tree. I was sure that even Amis’ untrained eye could tell where we had stepped. “Also, try to tread lightly,” I added, gesturing to the crushed grass and disturbed earth that marked our trail.

Most of my plan was for Amis’ benefit, since it was pretty much the same as Cahira and I’s hunting routine. Nevertheless, they both nodded solemnly. Cahira pulled her bow from her shoulder and nocked an arrow pointed towards the ground, only barely bending the string. Amis unhooked his axe from his belt and held it low, but firmly. I had already unsheathed the knife at my hip and pulled another from my bag. I left two more knives at my ankles in case the need arose, and I kept my bow slung over my shoulder. Though different in many respects from the forest outside our village, it was the same in the sense that I couldn’t hear a single thing coming from its depths. Just the faint roar of the ocean, presumably far beneath us.

Cahi angled her head at the sky. “Amis?” she queried, one hand shading her eyes and the other holding her bow and arrow.

He studied the sun, then the forest, and frowned. “Probably three hours before sunset, but its going to set behind the trees, so were going to have about half that time. Depending on how dense the tree cover is.”

Cahi half-drew her arrow once again, and without a word we headed into the forest.