This is entry 16 of Rogers Camel. that sound... i swear it rattled my bones. everybody froze like a deer in the road. abby whispered “what was that” but i shushed her cuz i didnt wanna find out by being loud. the ruins make everything echo so it was like the screach came from all around. i hate that.
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gordon held his spear tighter an martha grabbed his arm. i just told em “keep movin slow.” but my hands were shaking even tho i was trying to act brave. kathy kept looking up at the roofs of the old stone buildings like something was gunna drop down on us.
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after like forever it went quiet again. no wind no bugs no nothing. thats worse than the noise. i hate quiet like that cuz it means somethin is watching. i told the group to stick close. abby and jack looked scared but they did good not panicking.
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we turned a corner and found bones. not animal bones. people bones. and on one wall there was deep curved marks. not claws. pincers. i knew it right away.
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then it came again—a screach so sharp it made my ears ring. dust shook loose from the ruins. somewhere out there, too close, a scorpion was moving.
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we rushed back fast as we dared, no running cuz noise would kill us. when we reached the edge of the street we set up our travel huts in a broken courtyard, leather stretched tight and low to the ground. not much protection but it’s better than being out in the open.
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right now i’m laying here in the dark, writing this by the glow of a coal ember. the huts creak with every breath of wind. outside, i can feel the ground tremble sometimes. heavy steps. it’s close.
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if we make it out of Cicero alive i’ll thank the leather for holding one more night.
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