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For a moment, it seems like we’re making good progress, but then the machine bucks, and the teeth stop spinning. The man fusses with the controls, and the blades stutter back into motion, moving in reverse.
He rocks the machine, backing it out of whatever it got hung up on, before he tries again. Dirt and debris fly from the ditch as the machine digs into the earth, revealing a thick tangle of roots. The machine groans under the strain, its blades struggling to cut through.
Then the machine shudders and comes to a stop again, black smoke rising from the engine.
Sharpe curses and takes off his earmuffs, the rest of us doing the same.
“I’ll have to bring in the other machine,” the construction worker says. “I think we’ll get through with a little more power.”
Sharpe nods for him to go get it.
Frustration fills the air as we wait, attention fixed on the hole.
So far, the roots aren’t moving or attempting to repair the damage, but it’s only a matter of time. Hopefully, the man will return quickly with his new machine.
Flint joins us, his expression filled with worry. “This place gives me the creeps.”
I lift a brow. “Besides the magical roots that want to imprison us?”
“Yeah.” His gaze lifts to the trees. “It feels like we’re being watched.”
Mayn walks over to us, her sleek, black hair bound in a braid and the tip wiggling restlessly. “I, too, sense something watching us. There is more to this forest than it appears.”
Flint’s eyes unfocus, and his magic sends tingles through me as it sweeps outward.
After a few moments, he shakes his head. “I don’t sense anything beyond the usual forest creatures and insects.”
A shout of warning comes from the ditch, and we turn toward it as the roots come to life, trying to repair the damage wrought by the chain saw.
O’Hara and Troy lift their flamethrowers, aiming the nozzles into the hole. Flames roar to life, casting an orange glow through the forest to prevent the roots from taking over again.
“I should help them before they set the forest on fire.” Darius moves to join Marc, and they help contain the fire to keep it from spreading farther.
They work together seamlessly, their movements fluid and coordinated, as if they’ve done this thousands of times. Which they have, but not with two bodies.
The sound of an approaching vehicle comes from behind me, and I turn to see the new machine being brought in. This one looks heavy-duty, designed to cut through the toughest of obstacles.
Sharpe calls off the fire team, and they waste no time getting the new machine into position over the charred roots, its blades poised for action.
Everyone puts their earmuffs back on, and the machine screams to life. The giant blade slices through the roots, spitting wood chips off to the sides.
Within minutes, he cuts a hole in the ground, revealing the dark cavern below.
Sharpe steps forward, snapping a few flares and throwing them into the hole.
They spin on the way down, casting red light in every direction before they land at the bottom, illuminating the cave’s floor.
Shocked, we stare down into the hole. Where there had been a mountain of bones only hours ago, now only bare earth remains.
The mass graveyard has vanished.
in need of bones
- Sharpe -
As I standat the edge of the empty pit, frustration fills me.
I had worried about making it back through those thick roots, but I hadn’t considered that, once we did, the mountain of bones would be gone.
