Apocalyptic Organ Grinder Read Free Page A

discharged filled sac. 
    She’d have to remove her necklace, of course.  The twisted braid of leather would rub against the blister and feel as though stinging nettle prickled her skin.  She’d store the charm in a place of honor, somewhere she’d be able to gaze upon the gear-shaped pendant when she felt lonely or lost.  It may not be as physically close to her heart as it was now, but the connection would still be there.  She’d look upon it, thinking of Tolek as she ran the tip of her finger along the thin teeth of the cog.  Like the other widows in the village, the medallion was a reminder that even though her mate had been taken from her, his spirit was still an integral component in the machine of her life.
    Lila plunged her hands into the stream and her phantom image disappeared on the concentric waves that radiated from her wrists.  Cupping her palms, she lifted them quickly, allowing the cool water to wash away the itch of newly forming blisters on her cleavage.  The relief would be fleeting, but it also made the heat of the morning more tolerable.  She doused the thin strips of cloth that served as clothing as well and stood with a frown.
    The morning sun was almost directly overhead, which meant that Myra and Jarnell should have been back by now.  She could understand one of them being late … but both ?  It just didn’t seem likely.  No, something was wrong.  She had the same nervous fluttering  in her stomach  as the day Tolek was killed and the forest suddenly seemed too silent.  The creek babbled and the wind whispered through the boughs of tree, but no other sounds contributed to nature’s conversation.  It was as if all the little animals had went into hiding, as if they sensed the same tense foreboding that wracked Lila and knew not to chirp or tweet.
    Her eyes shifted to the long spear laying in the grass by her feet.  Carved from a single piece of wood, that weapon had been turned on the lathe with such perfection that it was as straight as a sapling.  Around the base was a decorative carving that looked like two intertwined snakes coiling around the shaft.  The heads of the serpents, however, disappeared into thick strands of hair encircled the wood just below the sharpened tip.  The hair was cut from the tail of a wild mustang, her first kill, and served several purposes.  In melee combat, the swirling fibers disoriented opponents, making it hard to focus on the trajectory of the lunge.  When the spearhead found its mark, the hair also absorbed blood and kept the smooth wood from becoming as slippery as a trout in her callused hands.  But, most importantly, it reminded Lila of her standing:  she was a hunter in the tribe of Clay, a warrior without equal … and that reminder helped her push her uneasiness to the back of her mind, freeing up space for more logical thinking.
    She’d seen the way Myra and Jarnell looked at each other recently.  The way their eyes twinkled like a moonless sky brimming with stars.  The lopsided grins and playful teasing.  Just the other night, in the flickering glow of campfire, Lila had noticed Jarnell mopping discharge from Myra’s back and shoulders with the same light touch Tolek had once used.  The two were young and impetuous, obviously smitten with one another.  Chances were, they’d veered off their assigned paths for a clandestine rendezvous.  They’d be along soon enough.  She was sure of it.
    At that moment, an echoing boom roared through the hills and valleys as a flock of birds rose above the tree line a short distance away.  Lila’s stomach felt as if it had been plunged into the cold waters of the stream and her breath caught in her throat.  For a second, she was trapped between two worlds.  Part of her watched the birds turn into dark specks against the blue sky.  But another stood in the past, staring down at the jagged hole in Tolek’s chest as the wound alternately sucked and bubbled the blood that welled