SHADOWS AND TRUTHS

Lena's POV The moment is still fresh, hovering like a sour memory. Standing in the clearing trapped between the past and the present, I watch our former friend—someone I once trusted—just a few steps away. Though his voice has a terrible calm, his eyes reveal another, cold and calculated story. Beside me, Daniel and Marcus seem equally nervous, the same questions flashing through their eyes as I feel developing in my chest. How did things get to be this? How far did someone we used to trust fall? He turns his head and smiles broadly. "You all look startled," he replies, voice full of contempt. "Didn't believe I would be the one to ultimately bring you down?" Though I feel a flash of wrath, I control my voice. " Why are you here, really?" He shrugs, as though he were not in the midst of a jungle, endangering the only person standing by him as things started to fall apart. Though every sentence seems personal, he says, "It's nothing personal." "It's just... practical." For a moment, I catch the flutter of the guy we knew—the one he once was. But the moment passes, and he's simply a stranger once more—someone who turned on us, on me, when things were difficult. "Convenient"? Daniel spitz with a harsh voice. "You belonged among us. You battled with our help. What became to the person?" He misses the smile of the traitor. That person was naive. Said you could stick together and change the world. The world is not that nice, though, as I have discovered. You do as necessary to survive. His comments break through the quiet and cause me to feel a weird grief. I understand he changed his own narrative to fit his decisions, therefore rendering them logical. That does not lessen it, though. Marcus spoke at last as the suspense tightened. He continues, voice calm but firm, "We can settle this here, or you can walk away." Still, remember that you are choosing this conflict if you stay. I suppose he could pay attention for a second. His eyes soon harden, though, and I understand he is too far gone. He has chosen; it is not us. "Fine," he responds, pulling his rifle. "Let's see if your loyalty saves you now." Next is a blur of motion and sound. Each of us falling into the pattern we know so well, ready for him. Though I hold my concentration, my heart starts pounding. This is someone we lived with, someone we knew too well, not simply another adversary. Though the battle is intense, there is a somewhat sad aspect about it—knowing that we are fighting someone once a friend. His eyes flutter with hesitancy as he approaches me, as though he is battling his own uncertainty. And for a time, I wonder whether he will stop, if we might simply chat, figure out a way out of this. But the moment passes and his face is stiff once more. Breath heavy, I block his strike and back off. "Why are you really doing this?" I ask, really trying to grasp. "This isn't you." He sneers, yet something is hollow about it. "You hardly know me anymore, Lena. I am only acting as required. I shake my head and feel sadness and rage whirl inside me. Then I apologize; however, we have to stop you. I mumble. Each of us is pushing to our limits while we struggle. Working in time, Daniel and Marcus have exact and forceful motions. Remembering all we have gone through together, I get a boost in will as I battle next to them. But he turns around, striking with a force that throws me staggered back, just as I believe we are acquiring the upper hand. Daniel goes to my side right away, his face sharp as he confronts our erstwhile friend. Enough! he shouts, his voice resonating among the woods. "You need not do this." I see something shatter in our enemy's expression—a flutter of uncertainty, a sliver of regret—for a minute. But the cold, hard mask he has been sporting since he arrived quickly replaces it. With a voice like a whisper, he replies, "I have nothing left. "No more." There pauses, a moment when time seems to be holding its breath. Then he sighs and drops his weapon. He looks at us, as though he is near to grief. Though I had no option, I never desired this. I go onward, my voice gentle. "You always have options.". He shakes his head while down. Maybe I did once. I look at Daniel, who nods, then at Marcus, who is observing our erstwhile friend with an expression I cannot exactly decipher. We let our guard down gradually, doubtful but ready to gamble. He speaks once more as the stillness stretches, his voice tinged with a bitterness that seems to be devouring him from the inside. " Once you all trusted me. I disposed of it as well. Still, you fight as though anything worth defending exists. How do you go about it? I have asked myself this question many times, particularly on the darkest evenings when hope appeared to be a far-off memory. But looking here among the folks who have grown to be my family, I see the solution is straightforward. "Because we have each other," I add, speaking steadily. And that makes all the difference. He stares at us, his face insensible. And for a moment, I believe he might remain, releasing whatever warped loyalty brought here. He then moves back, shaking his head, though. "No," he says, nearly to himself. For myself, it's too late. He vanishes into the darkness before any of us can respond, leaving us alone in the clearing. Every one of us engrossed in our thoughts, the quiet seems weighty. Marcus at last breaks the silence. "Do you suppose we might see him once more?" Though Daniel's face is austere, his eyes show a melancholy. "I am unsure. But should we do, perhaps he will at last understand what he gave up. All of us stand there not sure what to say. Knowing that we did not have to kill him, I am both relieved and sad as it means that he is still out there, a ghost from our past that might torment us once again. I can't get rid of the sense that this is merely the beginning as we return to our temporary camp. Though I know there are more to come and each one will challenge us in ways we cannot yet envision, we may have won this war. Daniel stalks next to me, his eyes far off. I get a twinge of sympathy since I know he is considering our friend—our old friend. Losing someone like that and watching them become something unidentifiable is difficult. However, I also know that we have each other and that for now is plenty. Quietly, more to me than to him, "We'll make it through this." But he hears me, and a little, appreciative smile pulls at his mouth. Indeed, he adds, his voice tinged with a quiet determination. We shall. The shadows seem a bit less harsh as we get ready for the evening, and the silence seems a little less weighty. We are here even if we might be exhausted and scared. And I know we will keep battling—no matter what lies ahead—as long as we have each other.