Page 37 of Escape from the Green

I shook my head, trying to break the thoughts free as I closed in on the car dealership we had seen coming out of The Green.

She was gone, taken by the giant steel headache headed for a place named after a fruit that - from the sound of things - didn't have a single fruit tree to boast about.

Maybe humans weren't the base, stupid creatures fae often accused them of being, but their naming of their cities could use some serious thought.

The pull of The Green beckoned me forward, reached for me like the embrace of loved ones, begging me to come home.

Home.

That was maybe the only thing that kept my feet moving forward instead of turning around and trying to chase down Amy's bus.

Home.

My land.

My kind.

I was still alive, so if they had not been massacred or afflicted in some way, everyone I had once known should still be living as well.

Hope was something I thought long buried, a seed dug too deep, too far away from the warmth of the sun ever to emerge. But it sprouted then, a small, fragile thing at first that increased as the first day came to a close without someone catching up to me and dragging me back, it found its way to the surface, rooting deeper while spreading upward.

I settled down in a small cave in a cliff, reaching into the backpack Amy had picked out, looking for the almonds that should have been right there.

But they weren't.

They were buried.

Under a cap.

And gloves.

Different than the kind I would have found in The Green, thick, warm-looking.

I wasn't sure when she had slipped them past me, but as I put on the hat and gloves, feeling the warmth making a difference, taking the chill out of my bones, I felt something akin to longing within me.

Not just for sex.

Not for her touch, her kiss.

Just her company.

Just her warmth and kindness.

The way she beamed when something was new to me, when she could explain its function, when she could pull me into a world she clearly had a fondness for.

The smile of hers that lit her whole face.

The way every ounce of abundant tension slipped from her slight body as we stepped out of the veil.

I sat there for a long time eating almonds half-heartedly, taking a few of the blueberries I had found below them, assuring myself that I would feel the same way.

When I crossed into my land.

When I was reunited with loved ones who likely thought me long dead.

I would feel the relief then.

And I was on my way there.