by J G Smith
“Lumbra,” he answers, with a sense of awe.
“I don’t think I’ve heard of it,” I tell him. “Is it on Gaianasia?”
“No,” he replies, rolling his eyes. “Lumbra is not on Gaianasia. It’s not anywhere on Lithon or in Spectum for that matter. It’s on a planet called Solbezna – a world of its own, in a universe just on top of yours.”
“No such thing,” I retort. “There’s only one universe.”
His eyes turn red. Light, of the same colour, emits from his other hand.
“You stupid boy,” he says. “This reality is bigger than you could ever imagine.”
I can’t tell if I’m more afraid or more perplexed.
“But who could blame you,” he says, stepping closer. His light dims. “You’re just a boy, unevolved… and no one’s supposed to know about other verses, much less traverse them. That’s why I need to return to mine. And, if you don’t know how to use what’s inside of you, maybe I should just take it and use it myself.”
My blood runs cold. You should’ve left when you heard that scream, Robert. I slide across the sink and notice, from the corner of my eye, a shift in my reflection – in only one of the mirrors. It’s the same as earlier this morning, except there is no injury and its—his eyes are emerald green. And, it’s watching me.
My temperature rises. Lighkame gets closer. I barely start running and light engulfs the room, again.
“Rob!” calls a voice. Bradley’s. “Are you coming?”
“Run!” I yell.
“From what?” he asks, opening the door.
My heartbeat normalises. The room is clear. Where’s Lighkame? I think.
“We’ve been waiting,” says Bradley with a worried look on his face.
“I’m coming,” I say, a little put off. I notice that I’m even in a different spot than I was a moment ago. Another blackout?
“Are you going to close that tap?” asks Bradley as I move towards him.
I nod. I’m a little freaked out, but I don’t know if I can tell anyone what happened. They already think I’m crazy. I close the tap and meet the gang back at the pickup. Lightaia has risen, I notice.
Bradley hands me my snacks and my change. I thank him.
“What took you so long,” asks Kyle.
I shrug. I can’t answer that question.
“At least you’re here now,” he says, also shrugging.
He turns to the rest of the gang and they continue with their chatter—well, bantering. I take my phone out and see that it’s 07:33, and there’s only six percent battery life remaining. It’s going to be okay, I hum myself. It’s going to be okay.
I put my phone away, grab a pillow and try my best to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
PHANTOM FOREST INC.
“Dude!” exclaims Bradley. “Are you okay?”
There’s a lull.
“You almost scared me for a moment there,” he continues, trying to laugh it off. But it doesn’t help. His smile fades just as quickly as it appeared.
“Rob?” follows Dylan, also concerned.
“Rob!” insists Kyle, wanting some—any kind of response. “Cut it out.” His tone is stern.
With my back against the cab, the gang moves closer. I’m being crowded and… I’m not sure if I can move. My right arm is still outstretched, holding the edge of the pickup as tightly as I can. My left hand and forearm grip my abdomen. There’s a tingling yet numb sensation in my side.
Kyle knocks on the window, waving frantically for his dad to pull over.
I haven’t even blinked. Robert, you’re making a spectacle. Do something. Anything.
The pickup stops on the side of the road. Andrew and David step out and I take a deep, deep breath. My right arm relaxes and lowers to its side while my left continues to hold the area just above my waist. It’s tingling and, only now, starting to hurt.
“What’s happening?” asks Andrew.
“Rob woke up with a fright,” reports Kyle. “He grabbed the cab and his side, and hasn’t moved since.”
“Even I got scared,” corroborates Bradley.
“Really? You made us stop the car for a nightmare?” I don’t think Andrew likes me. “Couldn’t this have waited?”
“Dad!” rebuffs Kyle.
“Kyle,” grunts Andrew. You know who’s boss when he starts speaking.
“What happened there?” asks David, pointing to my side.
I don’t know how I’m going to explain this one. I hope it’s nothing. It has to be nothing. I look down and slowly lift my jacket and shirt. Sweat trickles down my forehead. It can’t be, I think to myself. It was only a dream.
“What happened there?” asks Andrew, frustratedly repeating David’s question.
I don’t answer.
“Apply pressure,” instructs David. “I’m coming now.”
There’s a bit of blood flowing from what looks to be a burnt stab wound. I lower my shirt and apply pressure as David instructed.
“What happened?” asks Andrew, again. This time he’s addressing the group in general.
They’re shocked. I’m shocked—in shock.
“I’m not asking again,” says Andrew. This is where Kyle gets his sternness from.
“We were just chilling out back,” defends Kyle. “Robert woke up, freaked out and we called you to stop. I swear, dad. That’s all.”
“Robert?” Andrew looks my way. My clothes are drenched in sweat.
“It was just a nightmare, Mr Sal—Andrew,” I say, shaking. My face is pale. “I woke up, then this. I don’t… I don’t know what’s…”
Nobody knows what to say. They’re all just looking at me, except for David. He pulls out a first aid kit from the storage space between the pickup bed and the front seats. He climbs up to where I am, lifts my shirt and injects me with something.
“If I didn’t know any better,” says David, “I’d say you walked into an electric palisade. Are you sure nothing happened?”
“I don’t know,” I say, still shaking. “I just woke up and…”
“Does this mean we have to go to the hospital now?” asks Steve, somewhat agitated—somewhat concerned. He’s been quiet for a while. “Because it looks like someone stabbed you and I don’t want to have to explain that to the officials.”
“Steve!” protests Dylan. But his protest is overlooked.
“That’s up to Robert,” says David, in response to Steve. He takes out a couple of needles and fancy-looking thread. “There doesn’t seem to be any serious damage. It even looks like it’s been cauterised – a little.” He stitches and covers the wound with a silver bandage. High-grade; heat resistant, fluid resistant, tear resistant and airtight.
“How do you feel?” asks David.
What kind of question is that? I laugh a little on the inside. Ow! My hand moves quickly to cover the wound. And there it fades… the icy burn. Distant, yet present.
“I’m okay,” I say, lying.
“We should at least tell your parents,” says Andrew.
“Don’t worry about it,” I reply. “Jen—my mom will just freak out and Stephen won’t care. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
Andrew gives a sceptical look, “You sure?”
“Hundreds,” I say. You can tell they’re all freaking out a little. I’m freaking out.
As they get into the pickup, Bradley plants himself next to me; to my left. Both our legs are outstretched, backs against the cab. He looks at me and gives a simpering half-smile. That look. I can’t help but smile back.
“Not too far now,” he says. “Then we get to have some real fun. Well, without getting too crazy.”
“Yeah,” I say, slightly muffled. “Phantom Forest, here we come.”
“I hear Skye’s gonna be there,” he nudges.
I blush a little and look the other way.
“Don’t play coy with me,” he grins, but I hear Lighkame’s voice instead. My countenance drops. “I know you like her,” continues Bradley. There�
�s that look, again. The thought of Lighkame fades and I’m back on the pickup with Bradley.
“Guess what I can see,” toys Steve, the only one facing frontwards. “Welcome to Phantom Forest Incorporated, your home away from home.”
“Minus the walls, beds and private plumbing,” pipes Dylan.
We all shake our heads in unison, then turn to see the sign from which Steve had read; large, wooden and barely readable. It’s only a short way to go on the dusty road and we have rocks and cruntle shrubs to set the scene. A few halliops, I see, present themselves as showpiece fowl, entertaining us with their winged gestures.
“Let’s play a game,” says Kyle. He has everyone’s attention. “The last person to set up, change and dive into the pool loses.”
“You do realise there are only two tents between the five of us?” retorts Dylan. “And we haven’t decided who’s going with whom.”
“I’ve got Rob,” dibs Bradley, looking over at me. “We’ve got this. And don’t worry about the tent.”
I guess I’ll have to write in my journal a little later.
“It’s sorted. Now you just need to decide who you’re with and we’re good to go,” says Kyle to Dylan.
I feel the pickup slow down. We’re here. Just ahead is a large gate. To my left, the right of the pickup, is a wooden guardhouse. Andrew hoots and out comes a security guard. He’s wearing a pair of blue trousers, a grey shirt and a badge of some kind.
He asks Andrew for some details and checks it against his list. Andrew signs and the guard opens the gate… manually.
“Isn’t that an automatic gate?” I ask.
“Could be broken,” suggests Bradley.
I attempt to shrug it off but, as we drive, I notice a sign in the window that reads, ‘Back in ten minutes.’ The guard looks me in the eyes and I see his glow red.
My heart just about stops. I quickly look away to hide my face. Don’t be stupid, Robert. He knows it’s you.
I take muffled breaths as we drive in. He followed me… I want to say something, I really do. But then I look at them and remember their faces when they saw me wake, suddenly. I remember Andrew’s reaction when I told him about the man at the stall. Bradley’s too. I don’t know what to do.
Andrew parks the pickup and Kyle reminds us that the race is on. We only have one problem; Dylan isn’t choosing a tent to sleep in. An argument breaks out between him and Kyle with Steve butting in here and there.
Remaining aloof, Bradley and I decide to continue setting up anyway. Bradley takes the lead, and the heavier items. He just about does everything. When we’re done, I put my bag in one corner, roll out my sleeping-bag and take out a towel and a pair of… shorts. I didn’t bring any shorts.
“Dylan,” says Bradley. “It’s decided. You’re with Kyle and Steve. Rob and I are ready to go.”
“What?!” exclaims Dylan. “You think I want to sleep in the same tent as this guy?”
“You took long enough deciding,” answers Bradley.
“Brad,” I call. He comes over to the tent. “I didn’t bring any shorts.”
“Just wear your boxers, it’ll be fine. They look like shorts anyway.”
“Sure—” Wait…
He grabs his things, ready to head off. I grab mine, towel over shoulder and boxer in hand, and see my journal, laying there. I need to write in it. I need to remember my dream. I can’t forget that he was there. I mean, how? I lower my hand and touch the bandage covering my wound. And that. How did that happen?
“You ready?’ asks Bradley, peering into the tent.
“Yeah,” I say. “Just heading out.”
Steve looks over and notices we’re in the lead, so he forfeits his role as support contender and pulls out the bag carrying their tent. He can be quite competitive, when he’s not trying to fit into the targeted mould.
“Kyle,” he calls.
That’s all it takes, apparently, and Kyle is back in the race with him. “You helping?” asks Kyle, attempting to bring Dylan on board.
Dylan, reluctantly, agrees.
“Robert,” calls David. “Take these before you go.” He hands me two white tablets, saying, “It’ll help with the pain.”
“Thank you,” I say.
I fetch what’s left of my Xyletta from the pickup and down the tablets whole. I wouldn’t want to make the mistake of chewing them. I’ve done that before. Never again.
“Do you still have crunchers?” asks Bradley, already making his way.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“Bring me some?” he asks, buttering me up with the added please.
Of course, I say yes.
At the restroom, we start changing. My crunchers lay open on the countertop, whose edges run flush with the wall. I notice there are three basins on this end and sleek mirror plates just behind each of them. I almost expect to see the reflection from before.
As I take off my jacket and shirt, Bradley looks at my silver bandage. It’s about the size of my palm – plastered flat on my lower left side.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” asks Bradley.
“I’m sure,” I say with a smile. “Why? You worried?” I probe, teasingly.
“You’re insane,” he says, shaking his head. There’s even a little smirk. “You know that, right?”
He pulls up his swim shorts and tightens the drawstrings. I’m feeling a little awkward in nothing but my boxer shorts.
“But seriously?” he reiterates.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “Whatever Dylan’s dad gave me seems to be working.” I twirl around to show him. He doesn’t seem impressed. It does hurt… a little, mostly uncomfortable, but I don’t worry him with that information.
“Speaking of which,” I continue, “since when is he a medic?”
“No idea,” he says, gathering his clothes together. “We’ll have to ask Dylan.”
I see Bradley’s eyes move from my bandage to my tattoo. I could see this coming, again. He’s been dying to know since the day we met.
“We’ve been friends for a long time,” he starts, awaiting affirmation.
“Yeah,” I acknowledge.
“So, when are you going to tell me about that tattoo?”
I give him an unimpressed glare. He draws in, more determined.
“We’re going to lose the race,” I say, deviating from the subject and already heading out.
“Come on, Rob,” he stops me. “Don’t you remember the time we climbed down all those garage floors? All we found was abandoned cars and gates nobody could unlock. The lair, we called it.”
“We weren’t the only ones there.”
“We were the only ones who stayed.”
He’s right. We haven’t been there for a while, though. Not even Kyle, Steve or Dylan know about it. “What’s your point, Brad?”
“We had one rule: No secrets. I told you about my brother. You told me about your dad.”
I exhale deeply.
“And now you wanna know about this?”
“It’s just, you never talk about it. I know I’ve only known you since seventh grade, but no secrets. When did you get it? Why? I’m just curious.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“So, we’re what? Best friends for nothing? Come on, Rob. Tell me.”
“Do you believe me about the man at the filling station?” I ask.
Bradley looks to the ground and doesn’t say a word.
I sigh, then shrug. “It’s been there for as long as I can remember,” I tell him.
“You mean?”
“From small. I don’t know how I got it. I don’t know why. Jen—my mom and Stephen won’t even talk about it.”
“You being serious?” questions Bradley as he raises his eyebrows.
“Does it look like I’m joking?” I respond, sternly.
The restroom door bursts open, with Kyle leading the way. Steve follows and Dylan’s just behind.
“Boys, boys, boys,” taunts Steve. �
��Fancy seeing you here.”
“What took you so long?” asks Bradley, taking a few crunchers – a crispy snack of starchy goodness.
“Someone needed a little convincing,” says Kyle.
I can feel the tension.
“What about you two?” asks Steve.
“We’re just leaving,” I pipe. “Catch you by the pool?”
I see them hurry to change. Kyle and Dylan, however, seem to have a particularly sour aura about them. And it isn’t playful banter – not anymore.
I suppose Bradley and I also have a bit of an aura about us. Maybe that’s my fault. He looks my way as we head over with our clothes to the swimming pool. It’s rocky. It’s heated. And, for being near a forest, has surprisingly few trees.
I take my phone out to see the time. It’s 09:17 and my battery is on one percent. I should really find an outlet to charge it.
At the edge of the deep end, Bradley asks, “We gonna jump?”
I’m a little hesitant. “Maybe I’ll climb in from this side. See how far I go.”
“If you’re not in by the time Kyle gets here, he’s going to push you in,” warns Bradley.
“You’re probably right.”
Bradley jumps, pencil drop, as I slowly walk in from the shallow end. “How does it feel?” he asks, spitting some water out of his mouth and looking down at the bandage.
“All good,” I tell him. Not even a drop of water seeps through.
There’s a bellowing call. Kyle. He comes running in with a cannonball. Steve follows with an even bigger splash.
“Did you see that?” they boast. The stone paving around the pool is now soaking wet.
Dylan comes and walks into the pool, just as I did.
“Come on, Dylan,” eggs Kyle. “You’ve got to jump in.”
“Why?” retorts Dylan. “For your entertainment?”
“Don’t be a spoilsport,” says Kyle.
“Join the fun,” eggs Steve.
But Dylan doesn’t budge.
I stay mostly on the edges, not moving around too much. Kyle and Steve have races from one end of the pool to the other. They even get Bradley to join in with backstroke.
His engagement doesn’t last long, however. He drifts away peacefully as Kyle and Steve start pulling each other under the water. I observe. My elbows are on the rocks, lifting my body so that it’s only waist down in the warm water.
