Ben Dover's Arc

Chapter 13 of 150

They walked north with two boxes and no noise. The pine mat crackled under every step. Ben tried to place his feet on moss, on damp needles, on anything that would swallow sound. The boxes still hummed, faint but steady, the way a wasp sounds through a wall. Without the barking animal, the hum was the loudest thing in the woods. Justin stopped first. "It's closer. Two ridges back, maybe less." Anita crouched and pressed her palm to the ground. "We won't reach the next relic like this. We need to smother the sound before it hears us again." Ben thought of running water. Water had saved them once. But the map put the next relic east of the ridges, away from any stream Anita knew. He turned in a slow circle, looking for anything. Rock. Moss. A hollow log. His eyes caught the shape at the base of a leaning pine. A wooden chest, half buried in needles, the lid stained to match the bark. He'd walked past it twice. Someone had meant for it to be missed. He brushed the needles off. The chest was solid, banded in brass, a blue stripe painted along the seam. The lid lifted without a lock. Inside sat sawdust and folded felt. Nothing else. "Cache," Anita said. "Trappers use them. Line them for pelts so the smell doesn't carry." Ben understood before she finished. He lifted the felt. It was thick, packed in layers, the kind that ate sound in a music hall. He looked at Justin. "Would it hold the hum?" Justin knelt and put his ear to the empty chest. "Dead in there. I can't hear my own breath." Ben took both carved boxes from his coat. He nested them in the felt, pressed more felt over the tops, and closed the lid. He held his breath and listened. The wasp sound was gone. Justin's face changed. "Nothing. I've got nothing." Anita tested the weight. "Heavy, but we can carry it between two." They lashed a rope through the brass handles. Ben took one end, Anita the other. Justin walked ahead to scout. They moved east through the trees, quieter now, the chest swinging low between them. A branch cracked behind them. Far, but not far enough. Ben stopped. Justin froze. They waited. Nothing followed. Whatever had turned its head back at the clearing had lost the thread. Ben let out a breath. The chest was cover. The chest was also a weight, and their hands were full of it. If the creature caught them now, they could not run with it. They could not open it fast. Every relic still to find would have to be pulled from its hiding place and pushed into felt in the seconds before the hum escaped. He shifted his grip on the rope and walked.