AdultOfTheFuture
|• You rock! •|

The throbbing at the back of Lyra's head ached to the point that it was unbearable. Hot tears drizzled out of her eyes as she cried until she lost consciousness. She owed her gratitude to Emma, she might have caused the pain, but that was only because she believed she was in danger; something that Lyra would have done too if she was in Emma's place.

Lyra forgave her. How could she not? Emma cleaned Lyra's wound every morning and changed its dressing. She provided Lyra with a meal even though their resources were scarce. She barely ate herself — saving everything for Lyra. Lyra felt like a burden. She was a burden.

But all that was going to change.

Her mum always called me a warrior. Thoughts of her brought a nostalgic smile upon Lyra's face. She decided to let her go — death was inevitable, but she believed that she was in a better place, somewhere she no longer had to be continuously vigilant or worry about Lyra.

Lyra loved her too much to let her go, but as she watched Emma and Lincoln grow without anyone, it taught her to be stronger; to be the warrior her mum believed she was.

Lincoln and Emma would go hunting on odd mornings. Lyra decided to join them today. Her head felt heavy, but she knew that if she let it rest, it would become lethargic and she would lose her sensory abilities. Her mum did not have the stomach to hunt which was why they largely ate fruits and edible plants. Lyra had almost forgotten what it tasted like until Emma cooked me a platter of what she called 'meat'. It taste outstanding and she savoured every last bite of it.

Lyra tied her belt around her waist, placing her makeshift weapons and tools which she thought were going to be useful in it. Holding the sharp spear in her palm, she wondered if she could kill an innocent being just to fill her stomach. Would it make her the same as The Hunter?

Hate is a powerful word, yet she used it to describe her feelings towards the monstrous being. Lyra could feel her blood boil at the mere thought of The Hunter. It took all her strength to calm herself down.

Lyra inhaled a sharp breath and walked out through the curtains that were made of long, dark green leaves. She had to give Emma credit for her creativity.

"And where do you think you're going?" Emma had her hands on her hips and wore a sly grin, like she had just caught Lyra committing a crime. Her violet eyes were full of concern and questions for Lyra, but Lyra dismissed them.

"I'm going hunting with you guys."

"And who says you can?" She asked. Sometimes Lyra wondered if she was older than Emma or the other way around.

"I did. And I don't need anyone's permission." Lyra replied sternly.

"That you don't, but you need rest." She retorted.

Why is she so wise? How old was she again? Fifteen right?

Lyra's face softened at her concern as she said, "I'm fine Emma. Just a bit sore which is why I need to move around and loosen the joints."

She stroked Lyra's hair with her long fingers and whispered, "You can do that without going hunting, little Lyra."

Lyra smiled at her, "You know I'm older than you, right?"

"Yet we both know I'm wiser." Emma winked at her and started walking towards the dark foliage, "What are you waiting for now?" She gestured Lyra towards her, "We don't have all day, and Lincoln is already ahead of us."

—

She stumbled on the rocks and pebbles and stopped behind Emma who had come to a staggering halt.

"Shh, I think I hear a rabbit." She whispered.

Lyra wondered to herself; how on earth could she have known what the creature was by only hearing its tiny movements?

"How do you know?" Lyra whispered back, speaking her mind.

But she never got a reply. They crouched on the dirt and hid behind a berry bush. Their bodies cramped together behind it, oblivious to the creature.

"I think it's a hedgehog." Lincoln suggested.

A hedgehog? Spikes!

"We can't eat a hedgehog." She voiced her concern, however, her words were a bit too loud.

"Lyra!" Lincoln's irritated voice caught Lyra off guard, "It's not a real hedgehog, it's our code language for saying it's a fast animal with 'sharp' senses, so we must be careful." He slapped his forehead in frustration whist Lyra apologised meekly.

How was I meant to know that?

"Come on, let's move ahead."

—

A putrid, decaying miasma engulfed her nostrils with full force, making her gag in the process. Emma pinched her nose and mine to stop us from hurling our guts out.

"What is that?" Lincoln asked.

"We should check it out." Lyra suggested.

They progressed further into the woods, moving in deeper, too deep for Lyra's liking. The horror on Lincoln's face was evident but it confused Lyra, till she saw what it was.

The corpse of a girl laid sprawled on the ground. Dried blood crusted the tips of her skin around the gash on her neck. She was drowning in a pool of her own scarlet blood.

Emma gagged as her breakfast found its way up her esophagus, coughing violently behind the bushes, whilst Lyra mustered all her strength to control the rising urge to vomit. Her eyes moved to the bloody footprints on the side; a survivor.

"Lincoln," She whispered, "I think there's a survivor." His eyes followed hers and found the same prints.

"But what about the girl?" Lincoln questioned. Lyra tried to not let the tears brimming in her eyes come out. She couldn't bear to dig up another grave.

"She's dead." Lyra didn't expect her voice to break, "We need to—" The words where strangled in her throat.

"Emma?" Lincoln's voice brought her eyes to Emma's face — her expression spoke of fear and a distressing realisation. She seemed confused by her own feelings.

"I think..." Emma's voice was raspy and broken, worry spread though Lyra chest, "I think..." She took in a deep breath, "I think, I know her."

—

Oh my, who could that be? Do I know her? Who is the author of this book and isn't she telling me anything?!! (Wait, isn't that me? Hehe my bad.)

Who do you think it was dear reader? Thoughts please!