Into the Wilderness: Blood of the Lamb (Book Two) (5 page)

“Maryam's right,” Lazarus said. He, too, seemed to be studying Joseph intently. “Let's get there first, then worry about how we'll be met.”

Joseph leaned against the starboard rail, closing his eyes for a moment before he proceeded back to the ropes to start up the whole tacking manoeuvre once again. Meanwhile Lazarus rummaged in the shelter, returning with a large clay pot now
emptied of fresh water. He flattened himself along the forward deck between the hulls and scooped sea water up into it.

“You look overheated, cousin. Let me help!” With this, he poured the water over Joseph's head.

Joseph gasped and wiped the salty water from his eyes. But he was smiling, Maryam noticed, as he wrestled the pot from Lazarus and rushed forward to refill it, chasing after Lazarus until he, too, was soaked right through.

“Beautiful!” Lazarus spluttered, retrieving the pot. “Now for the girls!”

Soon all four were scrabbling for some kind of container, hurling water over whoever was at hand, laughing and squealing in shock and pleasure at the unexpected release of tension, until not a person or a strip of deck was left undrenched. When at last they'd had enough, they sprawled on the deck to dry themselves before somewhat reluctantly returning to their tasks.

Two hours on, and the island took on a more solid shape. It rose to a perfect peak on its most northern side, with a plateau to the south that gently fell away into the sea. It was still too far distant for anyone on board to tell if there was jungle or where villages might lie, yet to see the island growing real before their eyes filled all four with renewed drive.

There were more birds in the skies above them now, and a startling array of creatures in the watery world below. Fine-winged storm petrels hovered on the highest air currents. Frigate birds, with their curious red pouches, reeled and screeched directly overhead, as if they were cheering the travellers onwards as they battled the stubborn headwind, accompanied by a forward guard of streamlined flying fish.

It was impossible not to feel excited by the prospect of
reaching land. Though the Apostles had claimed there was nothing beyond the small sanctuary of Onewēre, the four escapees now had proof that life—albeit only birds and fish so far—existed beyond Onewēre's distant shores. It boded well, reinforcing Maryam's growing conviction that the Apostles' dire talk was nothing more than wicked lies to maintain fear. She closed her eyes and tilted her face towards the sun, allowing the golden light to filter through her eyelids and collect behind them in a warm pool of hope.

Joseph's coughing distracted her. He was doubled over, trying to regain his breath.

“Time for a break,” Lazarus announced, pointing to the shaded shelter. “I'll take the tiller for this tack while you three rest out of the sun.”

Joseph raised his head, his eyes watering from the choking fit. “But we need to maintain—”

“We've time enough,” Maryam cut in, grateful to Lazarus, despite herself. He understood his cousin well enough to know he'd never take a break while others worked.

She nodded her thanks as Lazarus took over the tiller, then she scrambled to the shelter to pour Joseph a drink. He flopped down beside her, his breathing laboured and his eyelids ringed with red. As he took the cup from her she noticed how his hand shook and how he winced as he tried to get comfortable.

“Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” he said, falling back onto the sleeping mat. “My body's just discovering muscles I didn't know it had.”

“I know what you mean,” Ruth said. “I've got blisters from the ropes.” She held out her hands to reveal raw strips where the ropes had run through her fingers and chaffed her skin.

“Let me go on the ropes then,” Maryam offered. “You work the tiller, Joseph, and Ruth can be our lookout now that we're close to land.”

“What about you?” Joseph said. “You have to preserve your strength—it's still only a short time since I took your blood.” He sniffed loudly, wiping his runny nose with the back of his hand.

“I'm in better shape than you,” Maryam countered. “You look as if you've caught a chill.”

“It's nothing, while you—”

“Listen to you two! It's not a competition as to who is feeling worse!” Ruth laughed.

Maryam felt herself blushing. Ruth was right in a way. It was as if she and Joseph were circling around, worrying about the other at their own expense. The difference, though, was that she knew her strength was rebuilding, while Joseph's seemed to ebb away. And this mattered to her—mattered more than she could ever put into words. But she also knew that the only way Joseph would get the rest he needed was if they made it to land.

“Thank you, Mother Ruth!” she said, trying desperately to lift the mood. “Now could I humbly suggest we have a snack and then put all our effort into reaching the island?”

The sun was losing its heat when they finally approached the reef that protected Marawa Island from the open sea. They could see the waves break across its back in a seemingly continuous ring that divided the dark blue of the ocean from the luminous mottled turquoise of the shallow water inside the reef.

The island was clearly visible now. Lush impenetrable-looking jungle spilled down from the cone-like peak right to the edges of the glistening coral sand. Overhead, dozens of birds competed for the updrafts, their cries clearly audible above the boil of the surf. If there were people on the island, there was no sign—it looked as pristine and uninhabited as when the Lord first formed it.

They slackened off the sails, allowing the boat to wallow on the swell as all four made their way up to the prow and studied the way the waves broke on the thick ring of reef.

“I can't see any opening,” Joseph said. He pointed to the plateau at the southern end. “I think we'd better circle round and see what's on the other side.”

“I agree,” Maryam said, trying to put from her mind any reason why the place should look so deserted. “Surely there's a passageway if your father said they traded with Onewēre in the past.”

Together they worked to haul in the sails, leaving only a small storm jib that was much easier to control. Lazarus took command of the tiller; the other three stood up at the bow to scan for rocks or coral shelves that might hole the boat. Progress though the sloppy swell was slow. Many times Lazarus was forced to manoeuvre the craft around abruptly as one of the others warned him away from a threatening dark mass beneath the water. It was not worth the risk.

Then, as they rounded the headland at the south end of the island, a whole new vista opened up to them. The plateau folded in on itself, forming a perfect crescent-shaped bay. At its centre, strange conical parapets just peeked out from the tangled mass of jungle, weathered to a streaky grey.

“Do you see that?” Maryam shouted. Her cry carried to the birds, which picked up the duel between excitement and trepidation in her voice and relayed it in raucous echoes out across the bay.

“There! Look!” Ruth's voice, too, flew high as she pointed to a smooth channel of water amidst the waves churning against the reef. “There's a break!”

“You're right!” Joseph turned to Lazarus. “Do you see it?”

Lazarus nodded. “What do you think?”

“Let's approach it slowly and see if it's wide enough to sail through.” Joseph looked to the girls. “Be ready to reach for the ropes if we have to spin away at the last moment.”

All thoughts of the strange building were pushed aside as the four put their energy and concentration into crossing through the passageway between the deadly coral shoals. With Maryam keeping watch out on the starboard hull and Ruth to port, Joseph straddled the carved figurehead to scan the sea below as Lazarus steered a wide lazy loop away from the island. Then he turned the boat and aimed it directly back towards the break.

Maryam glanced at Lazarus for a moment, grudgingly acknowledging his natural skill and the intense aura of concentration that lit his face. He was in his element, boy against nature, and in that moment his whole aspect changed. It amazed her, this sudden likeness to Joseph, the way he radiated the same determination and strength of spirit. For a brief second his gaze swept hers.

“Focus,” he snapped. “Keep your eye out for snags.”

She flushed, knowing she deserved his warning yet hating how he always made her feel in the wrong, especially when
he
was the one who should be shamed by all the sins he'd perpetrated in his own short life.

Staring down again at the rough edges of the reef, she found herself holding her breath as the hull started to slide past the jagged branches of coral with only a tiny fraction of space to spare.

“Ruth,” Lazarus shouted, “how's your side?”

“All right,” she said. “But don't come any further over this way.”

“Maryam?”

“Same as Ruth.”

“There's a huge rock just through the other side to port,” Joseph called out from his vantage point. “As soon as you're confident we're through, swing to the right.”

All appeared to be going as planned until, without warning, the boat was picked up by a surge of swell. The sea compressed through the narrow channel, shunting the boat forward, so that it slewed sideways at alarming speed. The right hull slammed up against the mass of coral, and a terrible scraping sound filled Maryam's ears as she was jolted off her feet and sent flying. Ruth screamed as the side rail caught Maryam square across her stomach, winding her. Somehow she managed to grab hold of the rail just in time to save herself from pitching overboard into the sea. But the pain was excruciating, and tears sprang to her eyes. She fell back to the deck, struggling for breath as the boat again lurched forwards on the swell.

“I'm okay,” she panted, motioning for Joseph and Ruth to stay at their posts. She forced herself to lean out past the rail to check for damage, fully expecting to see the timber shredded beyond repair. But by some wondrous miracle, the hull, though scraped and splintered, remained intact.

“It's fine,” she gasped, her voice wavering now though the worst was past.

“We've cleared the rock,” Joseph yelled. “And it looks as if we can sail straight up to the beach.”

Maryam wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to put her pain aside. There, ahead of them, the dense jungle reached long trailing fingers of vegetation down to the sandy shore, while a ragged procession of square boulders marched from the low-tide line up towards the dark understorey of the bush. Below her, the water was so clear she could see multicoloured fish dart between each individual stone and shell beneath swaying strings of seaweed.

With the hiss of the reef behind them, the air was alive with a barrage of birdsong and the clamour of insects rejoicing in the last of the afternoon's warm light. No one spoke as the boat glided in towards the beach. Instead, each of them nervously eyed the dark shadows of the bush for any sign of human life. The strange building they had spotted was now hidden from view and the trail of hewn boulders was the only hint that anyone had ever been here before.

They lifted the rudders and allowed the boat to slowly drift and beach itself on the smooth sandy shore, Maryam's heart beating so hard she could feel a pulse throbbing wildly in her temple. It was the moment she had dreamed of—safe at last from the Apostles' controlling grasp. But even as she climbed across the rail and splashed into the warm shallows, a niggling uncertainty took hold of her. She had no idea what she feared the most: meeting the people who inhabited this island, or the awful possibility that no one lived here at all.

The first thing that struck Maryam as they secured the boat to several of the huge boulders was the staggering abundance of bird life. A colony of brown boobies lined the soft sand at the rim of the vegetation, their rich brown feathers puffed up and their piercing black eyes watching the intruders' every step. Petrels, terns and shearwaters filled the sky, and from the dense jungle came a cacophony that seemed to make the air vibrate, as though warning the four that they did not belong. The smell, too, was overpowering—the fetid pungency of bird droppings mixed with the salty scent of kelp and the earthy undertones of the composting leaf-litter from the jungle floor.

There was no obvious sign of human settlement and, from the beach at least, no hint of the strange building they'd seen from the boat.

As soon as her feet touched dry land Ruth dropped to her knees in prayer. “Oh Lord, thank you for bringing us safely to Marawa…”

The other three regrouped behind her, swaying slightly as they adjusted to standing on firm ground again. Maryam felt a rush of excitement.
They'd made it!
Whatever else happened, they'd escaped the Apostles and sailed an unfamiliar craft across an equally unknown sea. Had she still believed the Lord was listening, as Ruth did, she'd have thanked Him too. But, for now at least, it was enough to feel pride in their own achievement.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked.

“Eat,” replied Ruth, as she wound up her prayers. “I don't
know what it is about the sea air, but I'm hungrier than I've ever been before.”

Maryam laughed. “That's no surprise.” She prodded her friend in the soft roll of fat around her belly. “But don't you think perhaps we should make a camp first?”

“I vote we go in search of that building we saw,” Joseph said. “It may be that we won't need to camp if we can find the people who live here.”

His words stirred up Maryam's nerves. For as long as she did not know the outcome of their search, she could still hope all would be well. But the thought of launching straight into a new adventure made her knees go weak. “You think there's time for that today?”

Joseph studied the position of the sinking sun. “I'm guessing we've got about another hour before it grows too dark.”

“Then let's waste no time,” Lazarus said. He hurried over to the edge of the jungle, searching the ground before he spied a weighty staff of wood and picked it up. “Come on.”

“What's that for?” Maryam demanded, fearing she already knew.

“Protection.”

She glanced over at Joseph, expecting him to tell Lazarus not to be so stupid. Instead, he nodded his agreement, made his way over to his cousin's side and scooped another hefty piece of driftwood off the sand.

“Are you mad?” she said. “If we approach them with weapons we're just inviting trouble.”

“There's no way I'm walking unprotected into what could be a trap,” Lazarus countered, chopping the air with his staff.

“Trap? That's crazy talk. No one even knows we're here.”

Joseph smiled nervously. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm with Laz on this. Until we know otherwise, it's best we're prepared for every possible response.”

“But you promised we'd be made welcome,” Ruth protested.

“That's my hope,” Joseph replied. “But I'm not letting you girls walk into anything unprepared.” He looked intently at Maryam, as though silently willing her to acquiesce.

Maryam shook her head. The boys were right to be cautious, she supposed—and she was touched by Joseph's desire to protect both her and Ruth—but it seemed ridiculous to invite trouble where there might be none. “All right. But as soon as we meet them and it's clear we have nothing to fear, you must promise you'll drop the sticks immediately, as a show of faith.”

Joseph smiled his relief. “That's fine with me.”

“And you?” Maryam challenged Lazarus.

“Perhaps,” he conceded. “But I'll make up my own mind when the time is right. I'll not have
you
dictating how I act.”

“I'm
not
dictating—”

“Good,” he interrupted. “Then we're in agreement. Let's be off.” He marched towards a break in the undergrowth and disappeared into its depths.

“Laz! Wait!” Joseph called, running now to catch him up. In a moment he, too, was swallowed by the dense curtain of trees.

Maryam grasped Ruth's hand and ploughed in after him, panicked by the thought of being left behind.

Enclosed by the trees, the rich loamy odour of humus was almost overpowering, and the air itself was damp and thick. They plodded on, still swaying slightly, ducking under low-slung branches as startled birds took to the air in a flurry of flapping
wings and shrill complaints. Five minutes…Ten…Then, up ahead through the maze of trees, Maryam saw the boys halt in their tracks and gaze around in stunned silence. A shiver trickled down her spine. Whatever they had seen there did not bode well.

As soon as the two girls caught them up, it was horribly apparent why the boys had stopped. All around them lay the remnants of what must once have been a village made from stone. Now it was almost one with the jungle itself, consumed by a thick tangle of creepers, moss and grasses, and invasive trees. For as far as they could see in each direction, disintegrating stonework littered the ground, displaced by huge trees that twisted up through the collapsed structures, suffocating them in sinewy roots that spilled over and down like water transformed to wood. In some places it was impossible to tell where plant and stone divided, the streaky limestone faded to the same dirty shade and texture as the rough-cast bark.

Ruth gasped, her hand shooting to her mouth as her eyes shocked wide. “It's all true, just like the Apostles said. Everything has been destroyed.” She dropped down to her haunches then, rocking backwards and forwards as she moaned.

“Hold on, Ruthie,” Maryam said, though she knew the consolation was meagre. “Until we've found that big building we can't be sure.”

“You think the jungle would have grown like this if people still lived nearby?”

Maryam shrugged, not risking her voice with a reply. Ruth was right. It was clear that no one had ventured to this place for more years than she cared to guess. She crossed to Joseph's side, and reached out for the comfort of his hand.

“What do you think?” she whispered, examining his face to try to read his thoughts. His skin reflected back the same ghostly pallor as the stone and trees.

“We carry on until we find the other building, like you said.” He squeezed her hand. “But maybe you should take Ruth back and wait for us at the boat.”

“You're joking! We stick together no matter what.”

Joseph looked over to Lazarus. “What do you think?”

“Sister Maryam is right for once. Until we know exactly what we're up against, it's better we don't split up.”

Ignoring his insult, Maryam smiled at Lazarus, thankful that for now he'd put away his bravado. She squatted down next to Ruth. “Come on, Ruthie—please don't give up on this yet.”

Ruth's haunted gaze rose to hers. “
Thus with violence shall that great city be thrown down, and shall be found no more…for who knoweth the power of thine anger? Even according to thy fear, so is thy wrath.
”

This, from the Holy Book, shook Maryam right down to her bones. If it was true that this village had been destroyed by the Tribulation, then everything else they had been told about that terrible time in history could well be true. When Mother Deborah told Maryam of the ship's log and the solar flares, she'd made it sound as if she believed the destruction was only temporary—that she was sure most life had been restored and Onewēre was not alone in its revival, despite the Apostles' claim that the Lord had chosen only them and their disciples to remain on Earth. Was it possible for the underlying story of the Tribulation to hold true, even while the Apostles lied about so much else? And if it
was
possible, what did that mean for the four of them now?

“I'm sorry but we have to keep going, Ruth. We really have no other choice.” Maryam forced herself to rise, and offered her hand to hoist Ruth back up to her feet.

Ruth caused no further argument, but followed after Maryam as though she sleepwalked towards death. And, indeed, it felt as if they were fighting through the outskirts of Hell, crumbling stonework tripping them, webs of roots and creepers snaring their arms, legs and hair as they pushed through the undergrowth in the growing gloom.

For fifteen minutes more they persisted, struggling and panting as the ground began to slope uphill. And still there was no end to the destruction, nor any sign of the great towering structure they had seen from out at sea. The jungle was slipping into darkness now, the birds settling down to roost and the clamour of the insects dying with the retreat of the sun.

“That's enough!” Joseph finally called, turning to the other three as sweat poured freely down his face. “We'll search again tomorrow, but for now let's go back to the boat and settle for the night, or else we'll end up lost in here.”

No one argued, so they turned and stumbled back along the way they'd come, the darkness setting snares for them as tiredness and disappointment took its toll. Maryam struggled to match the pace set by the boys and, in her haste, missed her step as she clambered over a fallen log. She fell heavily, catching her back on some crumbling stonework, and hit the ground hard. For a moment she just lay there, stunned. Her elbows had been torn open by sharp shards of stone and her tailbone pulsed with pain.

“Maryam!” Ruth scrabbled after her, frantically digging through the pile of mossy dislodged stone to free her of its leaden
weight. Then she let out a blood-curdling scream, and Maryam saw her wildly fling something into the undergrowth. “Oh Lord! Oh Lord!” Ruth leapt away, shuddering uncontrollably.

“What is it?” Lazarus was beside her now, grasping her shoulders firmly and trying to calm her while Joseph rushed to Maryam's aid.

Ruth shrank from his grasp, but pointed at the pile of rubble. “A human skull. I saw it—it was just there. It was—” Again she shuddered, before she was beset by tears.

Joseph was supporting Maryam as she gingerly rose to her feet. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.” She tried to smile. Her tailbone ached so much she thought she would vomit, and her elbows stung. But worst was the humiliation. Why was she the clumsy one who always seemed so foolish and ridiculously weak? She shook Joseph's hand away and set off again towards the beach, biting on her bottom lip to hold in the pain. Right now she cared for nothing more than escaping her embarrassment—the supposed skull and Ruth's distress would have to wait.

“Maryam, hold on!” Joseph crashed after her, leaving Ruth and Lazarus to take up the rear.

“I reckon you imagined it,” Lazarus taunted Ruth.

“I swear I saw it!” she protested. “It was smooth and round, just like a skull.”

“So, tomorrow, then, when we return, I'll find it lying over there?” He pointed to the tangled branches.

“Yes, you will.”

To hear the two of them squabbling was for a moment strangely reassuring. But Maryam's distracted amusement quickly fell away as the effort to keep moving while every
muscle in her body cried out for attention made the last quarter of an hour fighting through the tumbledown village a painful chore.

When finally she broke through the undergrowth, sidestepping her way past the nesting birds, the relief was so intense it released her tears. She limped down to the water's edge, groaning as she knelt to wash the sticky blood from her elbows.

She ignored Joseph as he came and squatted close beside her. She still felt too belittled by her own weaknesses to meet his eye. He said nothing, just reached across with his index finger and carefully brushed away a tear that had collected in the thick lashes beneath her eye. Out on the horizon, the sunset lit the sky with rusty pink and gold. She let the beauty of it wash over her, and slowly leaned in towards him until her head rested on his shoulder and the comfort of his body helped the pain recede.

“This is not what I imagined,” she confessed.

Joseph slipped his arm around her waist. “You're incredibly brave, you know?”

“No, not brave at all.”

“But look what you've endured already. First the bloodletting, then my Uncle Joshua's wrath. Even today, twice hurt enough for any normal girl to weep and wail, yet you—”

“Stupid and stubborn perhaps,” she interrupted, “and certainly clumsy—but not brave.” She shifted on her knees, trying to cushion her aching tailbone. “Braveness is a conscious act—like yours, standing up to my father when he would have seen me bound and beaten, or passing up your chance for a comfortable life. All I've done is run away.”

He grinned. “Well, you're right about the stubborn part!”

She feigned annoyance, nudging him so hard he lost his balance and fell onto the tide-lapped sand. “Watch yourself,” she warned.