Luna's Arc

Chapter 12 of 29

Luna set the camera down. The dead screen still showed her face reflected in the black glass. Her mother's warning circled in her head. Get them out before the harvest. But she did not know what the harvest was. She did not know when it would come. She only knew twenty some odd children slept above her, and she was the one who had to move them. She climbed the stairs. Luke followed, quiet. The oldest Ghost Kid stood by the front door, tall and thin, watching the tree line through a broken window. He had lived here longer than any of them. If anyone knew this place, it was him. "The tape stopped," Luna said. "My mother didn't finish. I need to know what she meant." She grabbed his arm. "Please. Was there anything else in the box? Anything at all?" He looked at her hand, then at her face. His eyes were older than the rest of him. He crossed the room, pulled a loose board from the wall, and drew out a rolled paper. "This came with the tape," he said. "None of us could read it. It's just lines and trees." Luna unrolled it on the floor. A map. Every path and clearing marked in careful ink. She found the farmhouse first, a small drawing near the top, circled in red. Her finger traced the winding trails outward. Sheds she knew. The stream. Then she stopped. Deep in the woods sat a house. The ink was darker there, the lines sharp and clean. Every other building looked worn and faded. This one looked new. Someone had drawn it last, and drawn it with care. "What is that," Luke whispered, pointing. "A house," Luna said. "A new one." She measured the distance with her fingers, path by path. "Three days. Maybe more." Whoever kept the map wanted her to find it. Whoever fed these children lived at the end of those lines. The answers were there. The truth about her parents was there. She rolled the map tight and stood. "We leave in the morning," she said. "All of us. Everyone who can walk." The Ghost Kid shook his head. "You don't understand. It gets worse the deeper you go. The deer are only the start. There are things out there we don't talk about." He glanced at the little ones asleep on the floor. "Some of us went looking once. Not everyone came back." "The boxes are slowing down," Luna said. "The food is almost gone. The harvest is coming and we don't know when." She held up the map. "Staying here kills us slow. That house might have answers. It might have a way out." He stared at her a long moment. Then he nodded. "Then we walk together." Luna looked at the sleeping children. Tomorrow she would lead more than 20 of them into the worst of the woods. She had no idea what waited there. But she finally knew where to go.