I woke up early and walked to the woods just at day break. I had to make my way through a heavy snow with big fluffy flakes that swirled in the chaotic wind, but I did it. I did it because the Gore need me. They wanted me to catch the boy. And I did. I caught the boy!
He stepped out of the tiny lodge just as I reached the edge of the clearing. He didn’t see me. He stretched and yawned and wiped his eyes. And marched across the fresh snow cover toward the tree line without a care in the world. The little thief didn’t even care that he was killing poor innocent Gores. He’s evil little boy.Little is the key word. He was so small he barely left footprints in the snow.
I skirted behind the trees and followed him until he was on the other side of the clearing and entered the woods. The little creep had a smile on his face. What an awful little boy.
He cut through a path that led him to what I thought was another clearing. When I got closer, I realized it was a frozen pond. He skidded across the surface with his hands out to help him keep his balance. I hid behind a trashcan near a picnic bench and watched as he stopped in the middle of the pond. He turned back in my direction. When he was satisfied no one was following him, he knelt down on the ice. An awful idiot boy.
He pulled out a large hunting knife and started chipping away at the ice. He stabbed at the frozen pond over and over again until his hand hurt. After resting a few seconds, he continued to try to break through the ice.
Several minutes passed, when he finally made a hole he was happy with. He put the knife down and stared into the hole. I moved around to the other side of the picnic bench to get a better view. He just continued to stare. I couldn’t figure out what he was looking at.
Suddenly he thrust his hand into the hole and pulled out something that was wriggling. I couldn’t see what it was. I crawled to a tree that was on the bank of the pond. The boy struggled with whatever he pulled out of the water. In a flash, he tossed the object to the ground, quickly grabbed his knife and stabbed it. The entire pond let out a screech of pain.
I couldn’t stand it any longer. I stood and leaned closer to the lake and the boy. Whatever he stabbed was trying to free itself from the knife. I stepped around the tree and the boy saw me. He stood, took a step and slipped on the ice. The force of the fall knocked him out cold.
I carefully made my way to the middle of the pond. My eyes on the boy the whole way. When I was sure he wasn’t going to come to anytime soon, I shifted my gaze to what he had stabbed. It was a hand, still moving, still trying free itself from the knife. Under the ice, I could see shadows of objects floating in the chilly water. Dozens of them. Hands, mostly. A few human heads.
I carried the boy, the knife and the hand back to the fire tower. When the boy wakes, I’ll ask him about the pond and then I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him to keep Jersey safe.