Read Forty Days: Neima's Ark, Book One for Free Online Page B

again and then,
without another word, turns and heads back down the
hillside.
    “ Jorin, wait!” I call
after him. He ignores me, and I turn to Kenaan, hands on my hips.
“What did you do that for?”
    “ You didn’t really want
him tagging along after us, did you?” Kenaan walks faster, so I
have to hurry to catch up. “He’s like a lost little
lamb.”
    “ Kenaan!” Yes, I’ve had
the same thought, but somehow it’s different, wrong, in Kenaan’s
sneering tone. He’s just out of temper, I tell myself, tired of
following Noah’s every ridiculous whim, like the rest of us. And
he’s taking it out on Jorin.
    We walk in silence for a while, the
only sounds those of buzzing insects and twigs breaking beneath our
bare feet and, of course, the calling and chattering and singing of
birds above us. Already I’m dreading the thought of caging even one
of them, but hopefully we’ll be able to free them in a few days. I
breathe in long and deep as we climb higher into the hills—the air
smells of spicy pine and cedar and, best of all, it’s gloriously
free of all traces of pitch.
    After a few minutes more we reach a
small clearing with a fallen log just the right size to seat two
people. Thinking of the slinking, slithering creatures Kenaan’s
brought back to the village the past few days, I inspect the log
carefully before deeming it safe enough to sit, while Kenaan begins
setting the traps. He arranges a complex pyramid of sticks that
will fall when the bird disturbs the trigger stick—which it will
surely do, thanks to the pile of writhing worms Kenaan places
beneath the trigger—before he moves on to the second trap on the
other side of the clearing.
    “ With you here,” he says,
“we can carry more than one at a time.”
    “ Mmm,” I say, not really
listening, for already a small brown bird is inching closer to the
first trap, eyeing the worms inside. It’s a yellow-throated
sparrow, with one bright drop of color below its throat the exact
golden shade of an egg yolk, placed as precisely as if someone has
dabbed it on with a brush. I have a nearly irresistible urge to
frighten the bird off, so I force myself to look away, toward
Kenaan. “What about the larger birds,” I ask, “the hawks and owls,
cranes and swans? Will you trap them as well?”
    Kenaan snorts. “If Noah wants those
creatures on his ark,” he says, “he’ll have to find someone else to
catch them. Or else they’ll just die out when this supposed
flood—”
    The snap of the sticks falling
reverberates inside me, as though someone has plucked a string
within the muscles of my chest, my heart. By the time I turn my
head, the swallow is already hidden beneath a layer of branches,
its squawk of surprise the only sign left of its
presence.
    “ That was fast,” Kenaan
says as he makes his way back to me, not even stopping to make sure
the sparrow is secure in its new cage. “Let’s hope our second bird
isn’t so quick, or we’ll have little time to rest.” He brushes a
strand of hair off my face as he sits beside me, and when his hand
lingers too long on my neck, I bristle. I’m still irritated with
him for what he said about Jorin, and his fingers are hot and moist
against my skin. I try to pull away, but he cups my neck in his
hand and pulls me closer, until the tip of his nose nearly grazes
my forehead.
    “ Kenaan— What are
you—”
    “ Don’t tell me you haven’t
thought about this.” His breath hits my cheek with each word, and
then he gives that strange smile of his, lips pulled higher on one
side.
    Once more I try to pull back, but he
lowers his hand to my shoulder and holds it tight, his face moving
closer still until his lips are against mine and…
    “ Kenaan!” I wrench away
again, and this time he lets me go. “I— I’m sorry but…I don’t think
of you that way.” I can’t look at him, can’t be this close to him
so I stand and walk away, my eyes trained on the nearest tree
trunk, my heart