Hell and Back

I peek out from behind the building.

All clear.

The tension in my chest eases, and my fist, clenched around the bow in my hand, loosens.

“Hey, Robin!”

I jump, pivoting on my heel, an arrow already notched and ready to fly as I spin. 

Will flinches, holding up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, hold up!” he exclaims, shaking his shaggy black hair out of his eyes.

“Holy crumbs, Will! Are you trying to get yourself killed? How many times do I have to tell you-“

“Yeah, yeah, don’t sneak up on you. Got it.”

“Obviously not,” I mutter, lowering my bow.

Will resumes walking, his long legs eating up the distance between us though he walks at his usual sedate, almost turtle-like pace. As he ambles up next to me his hand snakes out, reaching for my hood. I duck, but he’s faster. His fingers close around the green fabric and give it a tug.

“Must you do that every time?”

“Yep,” he drawls.

I roll my eyes, shrugging away from the incessant tugging. I eye his scarlet bowtie.

Will’s hand rises to hover protectively over it. “Don’t even think about it.”

“You suck,” I say, shoving him with my shoulder as I once again lean out to peer around the side of the building.

“Paranoid much?” Will asks, stepping out into the empty street.

“Not paranoid. Careful.”

Will snorts.

I ignore him as I double-check the street for signs of life. “I’m not this way by choice, you know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Don’t be an ass, Will.”

He grins. “Ass is my middle name.”

I bust out laughing.

Will’s eyebrows bunch. “What?”

 “Do you think before you speak? Seriously, do you?”

He scratches his head, still confused. I shake my head as I finally leave the shelter of the building behind.  “Never you mind, Ass.”

“Hey,” he protests, but I can almost see the instant replay flashing in his mind. Understanding dawns. “Oh, crumbs. I guess I walked right into that one.”

I grin, and walk down the street. Though this is a rarely used back alley of Castletown I still have to fight the urge to turn and check over my shoulder. I try to ignore the invisible eyes I feel boring into my back. Perhaps I am paranoid, but since most of the people in this town would sell me to the devil, I have a good excuse.

“So what’ the plan, Rob?”

“Plan?”

“For tomorrow.”

“There is no plan.”

“Huh. And you were in Castletown for what reason?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“I don’t have a price on my head.”

I shrug. “I was just checking on things.”

“Things,” he uses air quotes around the word, “meaning Gisbourne’s plans for the transfer.”

He doesn’t say it like it’s a question, but I shake my head.

He snorts. “You’re a terrible liar.”

I wince, wrinkling my nose. Will is quite possibly the only person in the world that I can’t lie to.

“And what was that discussion we had the other day?” He goes on, pretending to think for a moment. “Oh, right, I remember. Rob, you can’t do it all by yourself. ”

I can try, I think. Will is my only confidant these days, my only friend. I don’t want him getting involved. To distract him I say, “You sound like a pig when you snort.”

He doesn’t bite, ignoring my insult completely. “Come on, Rob admit it. You need my help.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Look, despite what you might think you aren’t a superhero.”

“I don’t think that!”

He cocks an eyebrow at me.

“I don’t. Really. I know my limits. I just…I don’t want you to get in any deeper, that’s all.”

I don’t want to worry about you too. Worrying about my own safety, and Nottingham’s survival, is difficult enough. I can’t any afford distractions.

            Will doesn’t reply, but I can tell by his expression that he’s not finished with me yet. We reach the end of the street, and head out of town, ducking into the woods for cover.

I look back and shiver. “Every time I walk through that town I feel like I’m passing over my own grave.”

            Will stops walking, pivoting to face me. “You don’t have to feel that way.”

            I sigh. “Don’t start. It’s too late for me to go back.”

            He looks at his feet, scuffing his boot in the dirt. “You could stop. Maybe he’d forget, and everything could be like it was before.”

            “Nothing is ever going to be like it was before, Will. Not with Gisbourne in control.”

            “Then let me help you!”

            “ I’m already an outlaw, I don’t have much more to lose-”

            “Just your life,” he inserts, but avoids my eyes.

I open my mouth to protest, but he interrupts again, speaking quickly, like he’s embarrassed by his show of sentiment.

            “Please, let me help.” His tone remains as amiable as ever, but I know him too well. I can see the threat cresting in his ocean eyes.“You aren’t the only one who can work on their own, you know.”   

He holds my fired up gaze with his gallingly calm one. We stare at each other. The quiver on my back suddenly feels as if it weighs a hundred pounds, the bow hooked on my shoulder like it might drag me down into the dirt at any moment. I don’t want to work alone, but I don’t want Will’s fate to rest on my shoulders either.

 “No, Will,” I say, flat and emotionless, though I feel like weeping. “I can’t watch over you and help Nottingham.”

“You don’t have to watch over me,” Will says, a hint of anger eating away at the edge of his tranquility. “I can take care of myself. You know that.”

“Yeah, but have you really though about what you’ll be giving up?”

“It’s my choice, Robin. And I know the risks, I’ve seen them firsthand.” He shoots a meaningful glance at my left shoulder.

I rub a hand over my hoodie, imagining I can feel the scars through the fabric. I remember dragging myself to Will’s backdoor the night I got shot. His father had opened the door and, despite the danger of associating with me, brought me into his home to fix me up. Without Will, or his father, I wouldn’t have made it this far.

 “Stop trying to protect me. I’m already involved, whether you like it or not,” Will says.

I sigh with exasperation and a little relief, and reach up to straighten his bowtie. “Okay, Will Scarlet. You win.”

* * *

“I’m going to shoot out a tire, then distract the driver.”

Will nods. “And while you’re doing that I’ll unhitch the trailer and hook it to the four-wheeler.”

“Be as quick as you can, Will.” I picture his normal, shuffling pace and my guts writhe with nerves. “If there’s more then one of them I might not be able to distract them both, so be careful.”

“Got it.”

I tug at my braid. “I think we’re ready. Do you have your weapon?”

“I’m not a complete idiot,” he says, but shows me the Taser he expertly tucked into his boot. The Taser is really only a close quarters weapon, but it will have to do.

“I know, I’m just being-“

“Paranoid.”

“Careful,” I argue.

“Are you satisfied now, worrywart? Can we go?”

I check my own weapon one last time, making sure the quiver is full. Tasers are technically the only legal form of self-defense, ever since guns were outlawed years ago. There had been a brief push to abolish the bow as well, but it died quickly. We were all required to return to a simpler way of living, to save the planet from our own stupid mistakes, and bows were a necessity when you had to hunt your food.

            “Okay,” I say, satisfied everything is order. “Let’s go.”

We sneak through the forest to the old dirt road. The road cuts through Sherwood Forest, and though it’s unpaved and rutted, it is the only route from Nottingham to Castletown.

Gisbourne’s town.

The thought of his smug, well-fed face makes my lips curl in a snarl. I motion for Will to take his place as I shimmy up a tree, and survey the road. I catch a flash of red in the brush where Will is hiding. At first I dismiss it, thinking it’s a bird, but when it winks at me again I realize that Will is still wearing his bowtie.

“Crumbs,” I mutter. Gisbourne’s drivers are, if possible, even more paranoid then I am. If they see anything abnormal they will be armed and firing arrows in seconds.

I quickly check the road for traffic, then stand on my branch and whisper-shout at Will. He looks up, scanning the trees. My green hoodie and brown pants camouflage me so well it takes him a few minutes to find me, despite my waving hands. I motion to my throat, miming untying a knot. Will’s hand flies to his own neck, and his fingers work furiously. He stuffs the incriminating fabric into his pocket, salutes, and scuttles back into position.

I sigh, and crouch lower on the branch. Anxiety mixes with equal parts anticipation, building in my chest. I love and hate the waiting. I feel like a lioness stalking her prey, eager and hungry, but the thought of the bloodshed that might follow makes me want to vomit.

A truck rumbles in the distance, clunking over the dirt track. All my muscles are tense as I slowly notch an arrow. A rusty old Ford truck emerges, cresting the small hill. Fury ignites in me, clouding my vision for a moment. Gisbourne refuses to follow the rules, clinging to his modern conveniences like a drowning man clings to a rock. While we all scrape and scrimp in Nottingham, barely surviving but supporting the earth, he clogs our clean air with his damned exhaust.

 Blinking to clear my head, I take a deep breath, hold it, and aim. I imagine the path I want the arrow to take before I let it go. The arrow follows my will, striking the truck’s rear tire. The truck veers, and the driver’s face contorts as he wrestles the steering wheel. He eases the truck to a stop just beneath my branch. I grin, feeling only a twinge of guilt as I take in his sweat soaked face, and wide eyes.

With a triumphant yell, I swing off the branch and land on the hood of the truck with a satisfying thud. My arrow is notched and aimed straight at his trembling face. 

“Don’t move,” I shout. “And I won’t hurt you.”

I’m not sure if he can hear me through the windshield. His eyes dart to the bow and arrow lying on the seat next to him, but he doesn’t move. I hear the roar of an engine, and my eyes flick away from the driver for an instant – long enough to see Will on the four-wheeler, crashing out of the forest. He dives from the seat, moving faster then I have ever seen him, to unhitch the trailer packed with baskets of produce.

I sense movement in the cab of the truck, the driver taking advantage of my momentary distraction to reach for his weapon.  I fire, and the windshield shatters, raining glass. The driver throws up his hands to shield his face.  My arrow catches his sleeve, pinning his arm to the seat. He yelps, and tugs it free.

“I wouldn’t try that again,” I warn.

“Are you crazy?” he shouts. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m here to save my village,” I say, and I swear I see recognition dawn on his face.

“You? You’re the one causing all the trouble?”

I grin devilishly, though I’m a bit taken aback by his reaction. I don’t think I’ve done enough to deserve this kind of response.

 “But you’re just a girl!”

            “A girl with a bow, and perfect aim.”

            His face pales, and he shuts up. I make sure Will has escaped with the trailer, then back up and jump off the hood, keeping my arrow trained on the driver. I melt into the woods, and hightail if after Will.

I make it only a few yards before I see him on the road. He’s no longer driving, but standing next to the four-wheeler, fiddling with something.

 “Please tell me the four-wheeler did not break down,” I say, breathing hard as I slip out of the woods. Will jumps and spins around, Taser in his hand. I’m impressed; I didn’t even see him reach for it.

 “No,” he says, lowering the Taser. “Out of gas.”

“Shit,” I say, and kick the tire. “That was the last of the fuel. I thought for sure there was enough to make it back.”

“What now?” Will asks.

“We don’t have much time. The driver has probably already called for help, and Gisbourne is sure to send his bouncers when he finds out what happened.”

As if on cue, I hear the sound of revving motors. Gisbourne’s motorcycle riding thugs are on their way.

“Dammit, here comes the calvary,” I mutter.

“Rob,” Will grabs my arm, eyes frantic. “What do we do?”

 “We run,” I say, though it kills me to leave the trailer. I grab a sack of apples, swing it over my shoulder and scamper into the woods. I hear Will follow and glance back to see he’s carrying a basket of squash. We travel in silence, careful not to leave a trace of our passage.

At my camp, an old, leaky hunting shack surrounded by dense cover, we stare at the measly amount of food we’ve managed to steal. I let out a stream of curses, and kick the basket of squash.

“Hey,” Will admonishes, gathering up the squash as tenderly as if they were newborn babies. “Have some respect. The people of Nottingham won’t appreciate boot marks on their dinner.”

“Lousy dinner it’s going to be,” I snap.

“We did the best we could, Rob.”

“Well it wasn’t good enough! I can’t believe we had the whole trailer and-“ I let the sentence trail off, my hand doing a swan dive to emphasize the disaster.

“Rob,” Will says, his careful, temperate tone setting me on high alert. “I think we need more help.”

I don’t say anything; just stare at him, my chest heaving with anger.

“If we had more help we could’ve stayed to fight off Gisbourne’s men, and saved all that food. I don’t even understand how you’ve done so much by yourself.”

 “I didn’t do much, not really,” I admit. “A few stolen coins, and basket of food here and there don’t make much of a difference.”

“Maybe not, but stealing a four-wheeler, and the fuel to run it, is kind of a big deal.”

“Until it runs out of juice,” I say, and hot anger rushes through my veins again. “Gisbourne is going to take it back now. Fat lot of good I did with it.”

Will surprises me by stepping up to me and catching my jaw in his hand, forcing me to look at him. “You give the people hope, Robin. And that is far more valuable then any food, or money you could steal.”

I sigh. “Maybe.”

Will let’s go of my chin. “So when are we going to start recruiting?”

I gape, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I didn’t…I’m not …what?” I’ve only just gotten used to the idea of his help, and now he wants more people cluttering up my cozy outlaw camp? “Will,” I say, surprised and annoyed by the whine I hear in my voice.

“It makes sense, Rob. You know it does.”

I groan, and slump down, sitting in the grass. Head in my hands, I think about all the food on the trailer that is now traveling out of Nottingham, away from the starving people who worked all day to harvest it, straight to Gisbourne’s plate. 

“We need horses,” I say, picturing the lost four-wheeler. I look up at Will. His eyebrows are raised expectantly. “And...”

 “More men,” Will cheers.

“Or women,” I say. “Don’t be sexist.”

Will shrugs. “It’s just an expression.”

I’m about to give in, when a though occurs to me. “Will, who is going to want to follow me? I’m just a seventeen-year-old girl with a bow, in a grungy hoodie. What do I have to offer, other then a warrant for my arrest for stealing the four-wheeler?”

I don’t add that there’s no damn way I’m going to give up leadership of this figurative little band of merry outlaws. I figure Will knows me well enough to read between the lines.

Will grins, shaking his head. “Didn’t you listen to anything I just said?”

“Huh?”

He smacks me on the shoulder. “You’re a legend, you idiot.”

“A legend?” I scoff. “Yeah, right.”

“You were the only person brave enough to stand up to Gisbourne.”

“I think you mean stupid enough.”

Will ignores me. “Don’t you know what people are saying about you?”

“That I’m a foolish, rebellious, reckless girl with a chip on my shoulder?”

 “No.” He’s all serious now, and it makes me sit up straighter. I feel like he is going to drop a bomb in my lap. His ocean blue eyes lock on mine, and somehow ease my nerves while stoking them at the same time

“The people of Nottingham will follow you, Rob. They will follow you to hell and back, if that’s what you ask.”

“Do they really tell tales about me around there fires at night?” I ask. I can’t quite believe that the people love me that much. I’m overwhelmed by the idea, but suddenly buoyant too, as Will nods. I swallow, and lean forward, diving deeper into his unwavering eyes. “Why?”

He smiles, wide and proud. “Because… you’re Robin Hoodie.”

Artwork by Little-Leo.deviantart.com