Prone To Wander (rough draft)

Chapter Nine

Quinn nearly flew into the tree, landing just a few branches below Malaki and the kits, and set his passengers down. The three young faces above them looked worried, “It's down by the trunk,” Kelly whispered.

“We're alright,” Ruben said between breaths, “It can't climb... not straight up.”

Quinn gazed with a sort of wide eyed wonder at the squirrel, “Now that,” he said, “Was impressive. No, it was far more than that. I would've been killed if you hadn't come back... and what a shot!”

Ruben smiled, but his shoulders sunk under the weight of such praise. “Well, anything for family,” he said. With that, Malaki and the kits scrambled down to where their elders were, begging to know what had happened.

“That monster had me by the neck,” Quinn said, “And I couldn't fight back in that position. So, this little squirrel finds himself a place to shoot from and... hits the beast right in the eye! It let me go and here we all are, alive. Can you believe it? He saved my life!”

“Let's be fair,” Ruben retorted, “You saved my life first. I didn't even see the beast until it was nearly on top of me. So there you go, one good turn deserves another.”

“And he's humble about the whole thing too,” Quinn muttered.

“That's incredible!” Malaki said, “But how long do you think the coyote will wait down there?”

Everyone fell silent. Minds began to race. How long would the creature wait? How long would they be stuck up in those branches? Could the coyote find a way to get to them? Their joy quickly turned to worry.

“It will wait a very long time,” groaned the ermine. “It has a meal here, maybe two or three, if it can be patient enough. There's nowhere for us to go, nothing to drink and nothing to eat. It knows we can't stay up here forever.”

“Well, there is something to eat up here,” Quinn jeered.

The captive ignored the comment, “If I tell you where to go from here, will you untie me?” he asked.

“Why would you ask to be untied now?” Ruben retorted.

“I could climb down, and lure the coyote away. Then the rest of you can make for the woods, or cross the river, something to break the trail. Then you can find the rest of your family.”

The other creatures stared in amazement.

“Oh, like you didn't know what you were doing!” The ermine growled, “All that talk of honor, and your relentless charity and... it must be contagious.” He looked up at Quinn, “I was wrong, you're not soft in the head, it's these blasted squirrels. They rub off on a creature.”

“Not how I'd word it, but I know what you mean,” Quinn replied. He then turned to Ruben, “Well, what do you think? Should we let him go?”

“Is there really any harm he could do if we let him go?”

“He could send us the wrong way, and keep us from finding the others,” Quinn said. “Or if he could get to them first and warn them, they'll be ready for us.”

“He could do the first one whether he's free or not,” Ruben pointed out. “The second would be quite the trick. To lead the coyote away and manage to evade it, then somehow turn around and get ahead of us? Doubtful.”

Quinn reached down, taking the weasel in one paw, “Alright then,” he said, “Step one, tell us how to get to where they're keeping the others.”

“Keep going north,” he said, “And stay alert. They're on this side of the river, maybe half a days journey from here... depending on how fast you travel. And stay under cover as long as you can, it's more dangerous than you realize. They aren't keeping “breeding stock” they're training The Hunter.”

“And what does that mean?” Quinn asked.

“They have a killer to do their bidding for them. That's why they wanted live prey, for training, for hunting practice. If your family is there,” the ermine said, looking down at Ruben, “That's what they're being used for... and it won't end well for them.”

Quinn and Ruben looked at each other, “I think you can let him go now,” Ruben said quietly.

Quinn nodded, took the ermine's bonds in his teeth, and snapped them. He set the creature down on the branch, and gave a growl, “I'll kick you to the ground if you try anything funny.”

The weasel swallowed hard, “Of course,” he said, “Completely understandable.”

Ruben stepped closer to the ermine, “If you get away, and we meet again, what do we call you?”

“Vincent,” he replied. “I hope you find your family, and you all make it out alive. I must be going soft, I'm starting feel pretty rotten for being a part of all this mess.”

“But you're trying to right your wrongs, that's more than most creatures would do. Thank you Vincent,” Ruben said, and offered a paw. The ermine shook it tightly, “May you be faster than your enemy, smarter than your foe, and ready for adventure...”

“No matter where you go,” Vincent concluded. “I haven't heard that in awhile. Thank you.”

He turned away and ran nimbly down the tree trunk, being sure to catch the coyote's good eye. He made some sort of jeer, that no one in the tree understood, took a leap to the ground, and ran. He ran straight south, where he could see some brambles and more trees in the distance, where he had some hope of escape.

The others all sat watching until they couldn't see or hear the creatures any longer. Then Quinn started the climb down. “Come on, or the whole scheme is a waste,” he called, “We'll cross the river and walk a little ways, then cross back so we can't be tracked so easily.”

“But I can't swim uncle Quinn,” Malaki protested, though he followed along obediently.

“No need to worry about that,” the raccoon insisted, “If you can't swim, I know you can hold on. I'll get you to the other side.”

“Alright,” he said, “Thank you... but Cavan isn't going to try chewing on me again, after this, is he?”

“I won't, I promise,” Cavan moaned, “And I was only trying to help before.”

Most of Quinn was submerged while swimming, but Malaki was able to sit near the raccoon's head, holding lightly to an ear. Ruben wasn't much of a swimmer either, but did his best. If the current became too strong, or he started to feel weak, Kelly or Cavan would grab his belt and carry him along for a minute so he could catch his breath. The swim really didn't take long, but when they got to the opposite bank, Ruben was exhausted. He dropped to the ground, heaving and gasping.

“You heard the weasel,” Quinn said, “We're only half a day away, and your family is in danger. This is no time for resting.”

Ruben looked up, ready to argue, but saw the outstretched paw and understood. He got to his feet and climbed up onto the raccoon's shoulders. Malaki was still on his perch, and went to sit with his uncle when he saw him climb up. They stayed there until it was time to cross the river again, then the entire process was repeated. When the swimming part of the journey was over, Ruben was something beyond weary. Swimming wasn't anything he was accustomed to. His muscles ached, and his head felt as if it were still floating. The only thing that kept him from falling asleep was the thought that he might soon find his family, but even his hopes couldn't keep him awake forever.

They were traveling north again, and could see there was another forest ahead of them. The treeline nearly looked like a mountain range, it was so thick and the trees so tall. It seemed to be a deep forest, a dark, quiet, lonely place. A likely place indeed to find a band of villains, holding innocent creatures captive... and it wasn't far ahead.

Our friends kept moving north, towards the treeline, and all watched carefully for signs of danger. All that is, except for Ruben, who's eyes kept going blurry, and closing without his approval. He continually shook his head and rubbed his face, but it wasn't working.

The march came to a halt, when Malaki called out, “Uncle Quinn, help! Uncle Ruben fell over!”

The raccoon trotted back to where the squirrels were, and placed a paw on Ruben, “Poor soul, he's passed out,” he said. “The climbing, running, fighting, swimming... guess it was a bit too much for him.”

“Will he be alright?” Malaki asked, staring with pleading eyes into the masked face.

“I'm sure he will,” Quinn replied, “But we'll have to find a place to rest until he wakes up.”

The raccoon shook his head and sighed, then looked about until he spotted a tree between them and the forest. It was an old tree, and many of it's branches were rotting, but it was close, and safer than the ground. So, Quinn took his friend carefully between teeth, gestured to the young ones, and off they went. They found a branch that was wide enough, and didn't appear to have any rot in it, and they all settled in. Ruben was placed near the trunk of the tree, and Quinn wrapped his striped tale around the unconscious squirrel, to keep him from falling.