Beautiful Wild - Anna Godbersen Page 0,70
ridge that separated their beach and their jungle from the wide valley on the other side. Vida had wound all the rope that had washed up from the Princess (and was not strictly necessary for keeping their huts standing) around her waist. The pocketknife was tucked into this jerry-rigged belt, all of which made a curious fashion with her water-stained bloomers and undershirt—she could just imagine this getup as an illustration of some half woman, half beast in one of the more sensational newspapers—but all in all she was glad that she looked a little fearsome. She did ask herself, as her tough bare feet searched out solid ground for their descent, what madness had brought her here, to this moment of living. Then she remembered: it was Sal, goading her with his leading questions and smug grin.
“Sal?”
“Yes?”
“You’re only pretending to let me be in charge, right?”
“And what would that gain me?”
Vida did not get a chance to answer, because just then the herd of pigs came dashing from a thicket of low bushes, their bodies arcing together to make one curved shape through the purplish grass. They were tusked, their hides a mottled brown. They were unlike any pig Vida had ever seen, and for a moment she was all tingly at the wonder of them and forgot what she’d come here to do.
How had they come to this remote place? How had they lived all this time?
She wanted to know the answers to all the mysteries of existence, to understand what higher purpose had brought her, or the pigs for that matter, or the waving grasses, or even the tiny bugs that harassed her sleep, here, to this place, into being at all. When she and Sal had set out she had been rather drunk on determination—she had wanted Sal, and all the others too, but really mostly Sal, to know what it was she was truly capable of. Now she wasn’t sure if she was capable of anything.
A great bird soared above. A cloud passed over the sun, dimming the valley. Then it traveled on and all was bathed in gold again. Her heart was beating like a drum.
Then the herd returned, lifted the dust, came their way.
She wanted no harm to come to any living thing. But she knew the persistent hunger she felt, as did all the others who had survived the Princess. She saw the hollowness in the eyes of the children, saw how spindly their arms had become. The spear was heavy with purpose in her hand—she fixed the nearest of the pigs in her sights, and asked its forgiveness. Once upon a time she had stood at the margins of ballrooms and decided that the attention of a certain young man would be hers. So it was now. She lifted her arm, she put the power of all her days into the hurling of the spear. As if by magic it sailed, it hit, just where she knew it would—sinking through the back of the pig, down through its chest.
Sal whistled. She was sure he hadn’t believed she’d be able to hit her mark, and she turned for the gratification of seeing him having to acknowledge he was wrong. But his head was bent, as though to honor the fallen animal.
The other pigs reared and howled. They circled their injured member. Sal was at attention again—with his long, whip-like arms he hurled rocks one after another until the pigs disappeared back into the thicket.
A kind of madness whooshed through Vida. Every tiny part of her body was alive with unbearable power. The beat of her heart went on steadily, a little louder than before.
She seemed to ride above herself after that—she was aware that they tied up the pig in the tablecloth, that they carried the heavy body back up and down the mountain, that Sal’s breath was even and calm, and that he matched her pace the whole time.
She was grateful for the way he allowed her silence.
The other survivors cheered and danced at the sight of their kill. They chanted her name in praise. She smiled at their celebrations but didn’t know what to say. The sun was on its downward trajectory by then, and she was relieved by this, for everything was a little too much at just that moment—too bright, too cacophonous, too humid, too real.
She undid what remained of the rope around her waist, and, without thinking, walked out on the rocks. She leapt from one rock