Molly's Sentinels

Only Molly’s rose-tinted nose was visible from the olive-green cocoon of her sleeping bag. Deep in the forest, no tent marked her camp. Instead, she nested in a deep hollow inside an enormous standing dead oak. One of many such trees holding sentry around a small hillock.

Molly named her home tree Arnold, after the actor in the terrible action films her brother loved watching. Although dead he remained imposing. It took her 23 steps to walk around him! Broad chested, his massive trunk was encrusted with curved, lumpy galls. Just like the film star! Projecting outward, two crooked boughs twisted skyward, frozen in endless defiance.

Two wounds marred Arnold’s remains. A tall rolled edged gouge split his trunk at the chunky root buttressed base. The mottled threshold widened into a larger, egg-shaped crevice. A perfect hide for Molly’s meagre belongings, and handy bolt hole during the frequent downpours. The second, a large-puckered hole in his chest. This was her bedtime hollow. High above the ground, Molly relied on the abundant galls to help her scamper up. Whilst large, the hole was a tight squeeze, and there was a knack to clambering in. Molly mastered the technique on her second night. Scrambling past the pucker-lipped mouth she shuffled in feet first from above. Seated on the lip, she then curled up inside. Squirming, and wriggling to get comfortable.

Last night she’d snuggled deeply into Arnold’s warm embrace, pulling the mouth straps of her ‘mummy bag’ closed tightly. This kept her deliciously cozy through the chilly autumn night. This morning it also blocked out the rising sun, which had been calling her insistently to breakfast for the past hour.

Jiggling forward, she assessed the aura of the day. The frigid air nipped at her nasal thermometer as it inquisitively snuffled. She found the contrast of being toasty warm while snuffling the crisp air, joyously titillating. It was mid-October, so the sharp bite of frost was blessedly absent. But the air held enough damp chill to erode her tentative desire to start the day. “No!” She thought, “Better to wait while the Sun does some work.” With a gruntled grin she wriggled eagerly back into her cuddly enclosure to doze.

Crash-thud!

Molly jumped awake at the noise. Popping her head out to investigate, she squinted blindly in the light. A chill tweaked her cheeks signaling a heightened breeze. Animated, Arnold and the sentinels creaked and groaned. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the sky was bright and clear. She’d slept longer than intended but was not troubled. It was the best night’s sleep she’d had since fleeing London.

“OOOOOeeeee!” Arnold yawned, twisting in the breeze.

“St-haah-haah-haap it!” She yawned back sleepily. “You’ll send me off again.”

“NnnnN-OHhhh!” He groaned.

Poking her head out of the hollow, Molly looked around. Seeing nothing amiss, she began the process of eclosion acknowledging, “Your right, I can’t stay here, curled up like a dormouse all day.”

Emerging clothed but barefoot, she gingerly clambered down to her waiting boots. Rustling inside her hide, she located her knapsack and mess tin. She withdrew her canteen from the former, removing the lid from the latter.

“Eeeeeee!”

“Don’t get excited!” She cautioned, glaring at the gloopy damson and beech nut stew with a grimace. “Same again!”

All her food was foraged. When she first encountered the heavy grapelike bunches of dusty purple fruit, she’d been so hungry she scoffed three immediately. At the time she doubted anything could taste sweeter. Now the thought of the bitter fruit was making her face screw and lips curl. She’d hoped cooking might sweeten them, like it did for onions. If anything, they’d become more astringent!

Cringing through her first mouth-full, she reflected on how quickly perceptions changed. On first encountering her Sentinels, she’d been terrified. She saw contorted monstrosities, with great clawed branches silhouetted against the setting sun! But as she crept closer, the angle of the light changed, and they transformed. Bathed in amber twilight they became like majestic time worn warriors. Battered by the ages. assaulted by the elements, but still standing strong! Infused by ethereal hope she’d meandered among them, tickling her fingertips across the heavily grained bark as she went.

When she happened upon the hollow at Arnold’s base, the decision to settle for the night was easily made. Hidden and guarded by mighty sentinels, where could be safer? When further exploration revealed a stream to the north and damsons to the west, her lucky layover became a temporary home.

Home…

Molly tried to squash the memories, but they bubbled up regardless. It seemed an age since she’d curled up on her squishy mattress watching cat videos on u-tube. Then came the public service announcement. The army was locking down central London. Stay indoors! But “There’s no cause for alarm!” Mum didn’t buy it, and immediately packed their camping gear. Uxbridge wasn’t Central after all!

Her brother Toby, emulating a hero from one of his ridiculous films, had snuck out to check his girlfriend was safe. He could have called her! They were so relieved when he came back. But then…

“No!” Molly said emphatically.

Shaking her head, she blinked away gathering tears. He hadn’t come back, something else had! People had theories about the madness. The usual nonsense. Lab accident, toxic gas, alien invasion, God’s judgement... Rubbish! Nobody had a clue.

They escaped the thing wearing Toby and made it to Oxford before stopping to refuel. Everything was moving so quickly. How could they have known the madness had overtaken them? After a quick crash course in driving, her Mum stroked her cheek for the last time saying, “Automatics are easy. If I say drive, you drive! No looking back.”

Molly had nodded acquiescence. But when her Mum screamed, “DRIVE!” She’d panicked. Looking back, she saw her framed in the kiosk doorway. Scratching hands dragged at her. Terrified eyes pleaded, “GO!” Galvanized into action, she planted her foot to the floor. In the rearview mirror the diminishing door slammed closed. Her mother, gone. The car didn’t make it far. Packing what she could carry, Molly had avoided people ever since.

Abruptly standing, she wiped her eyes and announced, “Time to get moving! This pot won’t refill itself.”

“NnnnN-OHhhh!”

“No!” She echoed.

Shouldering her knapsack, she hid her remaining belongings before heading to the stream to carry out her ablutions. Afterward, she would normally have turned west for damsons. But today she decided to head east. She felt lucky and wanted something sweet! “It’s a shame cake doesn’t grow on trees.” She mused, settling into a brisk stride.

After a short distance, to her delight, she discovered some fruiting hazels. Most were still green, but a good handful of nuts were browned ready to eat. An early win! Eager to press her luck, she forged on.

Another two hours of walking yielded nothing but fatigue. Conscious of the diminishing daylight, Molly pondered turning back. But she noticed something odd. A darkness disrupting the dappled woodland ahead. Creeping closer revealed an overgrown wall. Instinctively Molly recoiled, walls meant people! But the crumbling brickwork communicated dereliction. Reasoning it to be abandoned, she decided to investigate.

Exploring the first two sides revealed walls too high to safely climb. Centered in the third she spied an arch and moved eagerly toward it. Peeking around the corner revealed a gateway into a large partially collapsed greenhouse. The glass had long since gone, leaving a sagging skeleton of rotted purlins leaning heavily against the outer brick wall. Undeterred, Molly carefully meandered through the debris littered interior, before forcing a path through prickly overgrowth into the walled garden beyond.

Inside she looked with fading enthusiasm across overgrown, weed ridden planters. With a sigh she searched for any surviving food crops. Nothing! Turning to leave, her heart skipped a beat. Behind her, blushing teardrops hung from a dozen pear trees lining the wall. The profusion of fruit dangled invitingly, itching to be picked. With a “YIP!” Molly ran to oblige.

Snatching one she bit deeply into the flesh, savoring the sticky sweet gush of juice that poured into her mouth and down her chin. Quick economical bites stuffed the remainder of the fruit into her cheeks to be munched while she filled her knapsack.

“Rob?”

Molly froze on the spot. Her blood ran cold through her hammering heart as she crouched lower, closing her knapsack.

“ROB!”

Molly felt queasy, panting, and flushed with panic. She could hear footsteps, cautiously crunching towards her. Staying low she forced her jellied legs to move, stealthily slinking back toward the greenhouse.

“WHO’S THAT?”

Stealth irrelevant, Molly ran and dived into the overgrowth, wriggling through as quick as she could.

Thwack!

A thrusting rake slapped her backside, catching her boot as it was dragged back. Quickly twisting Molly freed herself and kicked hard. It connected, eliciting a satisfying yelp. Surging to her feet, she ran!

The adrenaline wore off fast, leaving Molly lead legged with burning lungs. But she persevered. They’d mistaken her for a boy! She had no intention of disabusing the notion. Maybe a boy wasn’t worth catching? But a girl! Pausing for breath she listened. Arguing voices! They were still following. Sighing she soldiered on.

After what felt like an eternity her sentinels scaled the horizon. The imagined promise of safety buoyed her flagging motivation. Driving her agonized legs harder she picked up pace.

She staggered the last few paces, breathing in ragged wheezes. Quickly she hid her knapsack and scampered up to her hollow. Pulling out her sleeping bag, she wriggled in muddy boots first. Hugging the bag to her chest she panted into the cloth and prayed to remain unseen.

“Shhhhhhh.” The leaves whispered.

As the sun abandoned the sky, they noisily approached the grove.

“For pears?”

“AND me nose!”

Molly froze, they sounded so close! The wind blew, and the sentinels creaked menacingly.

“Freaky…We could come back?”

“He’ll be gone!”

They were so close Molly could smell their rancid unwashed odor!

“There’s no hope in this light.”

“NnnnN-OHhhh!”

Still bickering, they carried on westwards.

Breathing a sigh of relief Molly tried to move, but her exhausted body refused. Physically and emotionally drained she passed out.

Waking before dawn, Molly forced her aching body to clamber down. Anxiously she gathered her belongings. Hefting her rucksack to her back and knapsack to her front, she placed a hand on Arnold’s chest, “It’s time. Thank you.”

“NnnnN-OHhhh!”

Smiling she took one last look at her brave sentinels, before heading north. She crossed the stream and kept going. While walking she contemplated next steps, recalling her mother’s plans for Leeds. Deep in thought, she missed a familiar sound approaching. Stepping out onto a wide road.

Horn blaring and tyres screeching, her revelry broke as a car skidded towards her. As she staggered backwards the driver surged out bellowing, “US OR THEM?”

Shaken and confused, Molly shook her head. She wanted to ask what he meant, but he raised a gun repeating, “Us… or… them?”

Dumbstruck, she felt warmth spreading between her thighs. She couldn’t speak. Her hands raised, but her legs gave out. Falling to her knees she awaited the bang that signaled the end.

“ENOUGH! It’s a girl…”

Heels clicked over the tarmac. Reassuring arms enveloped Molly, gently encouraging her to her feet and toward the car. The maternal act broke her, and she sobbed freely into the lady’s shoulder.

“Oh sweetheart.” She sighed sympathetically, noticing the damp patch.

Lifting a floormat onto the seat she settled Molly inside next to a wide-eyed young boy. Molly weakly waved at him as the car pulled away.

Leaning in he whispered, “You should have stayed with the trees!”

Molly’s stomach lurched!

Looking round, the lady regarded her, a too wide grin splitting her face.

Extra teeth sprouted to fill the moist widening gaps as a deepening voice asked, “Would you like a delicious pear? My boys GROWW THEMMMM!”

Molly’s scream echoed through the forest.

“NnnnN-OHhhh!” Arnold groaned sorrowfully.