(Unedited excerpt.)
By early evening, every Walnut
Keeper was safely tucked away in his or her burrow, and each
barricade had been moved into place. Roan set a barrier at the base
of the spiral stairs to prevent any of the infected from invading the
Home Tree, should they be able to make it past the other spike traps
or slip through a thin place in the underbrush.
When all was secure, he planted
himself on a Corridor branch next to Splinter who offered to keep
watch with him now that most cases of the Fever were under control.
“Long day,” she said simply
as she leaned her head against Roan's shoulder.
He grunted his agreement and
allowed his cheek to rest briefly on his wife’s head.
“Our day has just begun.”
“I know,” she replied. “And
I'm happy to be spending it with you.”
Roan’s eyes softenend for a
moment. “Little ones asleep?”
“Yes, just as I closed the
door to come here.”
“Good. There are a lot of them
tonight. Wouldn't do to have them stay up and watch,” Roan said
grimly. “Might not be pretty.”
“I agree.” Splinter gazed
out over the High Field.
The rustlings were scattered
throughout the tall grasses, most made by small creatures, but some
made by creatures that were clearly much larger. Roan gazed in the
opposite direction at the meadow. It, too, was a sea of Madness.
Infected stumbled through the dandelions and clover, jostling the
plants that were overhanging the old rabbit trails and gathering
trails he was sure they followed. A fight broke out somewhere in the
darkness, followed by a single creature hobbling away.
“That took care of one,”
Roan said.
“Just a thousand to go,”
Splinter teased.
Roan peered down at the
barricade close to the funeral path on the south side of the pond. A
very fat vole staggered up to the spike trap and bumped into the
thorns. An almost confused look crossed its face momentarily before
it took a half-step back and attempted to walk forward again. The
vole bumped into the thorns once more and pushed into them hard, but
not enough to either injure himself or move the barricade.
“Seems to be working,” Roan
observed.
Splinter yawned. “I'm glad.
Perhaps the barricades will save some lives.”
“A few, but based on how many
infected are out there, things are going to get a lot worse.”
Roan and Splinter fell into
silence. They gazed into the darkening landscape, listening to the
rustling grasses and the occasional garbled moans that drifted
through the evening air. Neither of them wished to imagine how things
could get worse.
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