by J G Smith
“Whose idea was this?” asks Dylan as he swims up to me. He’s sort of joking, sort of serious.
“Wasn’t it a group decision?” I ask.
“It was a Kyle-Steve decision,” he says, matter-of-factly. I can sense a hint of discontent. “Brad and I only came because of you.”
“We haven’t even started and it’s already a waste?” I ask him.
“No,” he sighs. “I’ll get over it. Maybe after lunch.” His demeanour moves from gloomy to somewhat bemused.
“Let’s be honest,” he continues, with a more cheerful attitude this time. “Camping?” He raises his eyebrows. His element is more biology class than anything else. There we are the reigning kings. He’s just the more vocal king.
“We can make it fun,” I say, looking to my right. “The forest is just down that way.”
“You know we’re not allowed in there,” he reminds me. “It’s fenced off for a reason.”
“And the tour guides?”
“They only take us around the edge.”
“It’s still something,” I say. “Imagine seeing a woodsma.”
“Imagine…” he echoes.
Bradley swims our way, listening in.
“We only have one problem,” adds Dylan. “We already have one injured member in our party.”
“It’s not that bad,” I defend.
“Aren’t you at least a little freaked out by what happened?” he asks.
“I don’t really know what happened,” I tell him, not technically lying.
“Exactly,” he points out.
“It is a little distressing,” affirms Bradley.
“At least your dad was there,” I say to Dylan. “I didn’t know he was a medic.”
I slide the rest of my body into the pool and dip my head.
“He wasn’t always in IT,” says Dylan as I come out of the water. “But even now he’s the first responder in his office.”
“Next year,” I comment. “Next year that’s me.”
I feel a massive splash of water wash over. Kyle and Steve are enjoying themselves. It’s evident in the amount of water no longer in the pool. They beckon the three of us to join them in another race. Just as quickly, though, Kyle hops to my defence. He reckons I can’t be engaging in any strenuous activity. I accept his point. Not that I want to join them anyway.
As they succeed in recruiting only Dylan, Bradley tugs at my shoulder to point out Skye and her parents walking past the pool. She smiles and waves, causing my cheeks to flush red. Bradley and I wave back; the others don’t notice, which I rate as a good thing.
“Ooh,” teases Bradley. “I see what’s happening.”
I blush even more, turning to swim away. He grabs my arm. “Let’s go speak to her.”
“Like this?”
“Of course not,” he says. “We’ll change first.”
Steve asks where we’re off to. Bradley replies with a lovebird reference, letting them know we’ll be back for lunch. Almost in unison, the gang taunts with their oohs and aahs. If only I had my hoodie on or a hole to hide in. Right now, Bradley is at the top of my hit list.
We head back to the restroom with our clothes to dry off and change. When I’m afforded a moment to breathe, I notice something curious in one of the stalls… ash, just like the ash in the restroom stall at the filling station. My worries quickly fade from Skye to Lighkame. Who has he taken now?
I contemplate telling Bradley. But will he believe me? Would I believe me? My thoughts are running wild. My heart is pounding.
“Rob,” calls Bradley. I almost jump. “Are you okay?”
I nod.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet,” he says. “We’re just going to talk.”
I take a deep breath. “I’m good,” I say.
“Good,” he replies, rubbing my shoulders.
I pull away. “Since when did you become the social type?”
“I’m not,” he says. “But it’s Skye… It’s you.”
I almost let out a snicker and feel a little more relaxed.
“We’ve got this,” he assures me.
My mind is back on track. I turn to the mirror and try fixing my hair.
“Relax,” says Bradley. “You look good, all scruffy and…” It takes me a little too long to notice he doesn’t finish his sentence.
We drop our towels and shorts – well, my boxers – off at the campsite before heading to Skye. Their site is nearer to the forest, allowing them more opportunity to see its animals at night. Most of them are nocturnal.
“Hey, Robert,” greets Skye as we approach. She gives me a hug, as well as Bradley.
The first thing I notice is her hair. Long, dark and hanging loose. Her eyes are a golden brown – nigh on threatening. I find them alluring—I find her alluring. Though, I’d never be caught dead saying that out loud.
I stumble over my words trying to speak with Skye. Bradley notices and taunts me. I almost shy away, but he stops me and pushes me to keep going.
“Do you want some Xyletta?” asks Skye.
Bradley and I agree. “Yes, please,” we say.
Her parents emerge from their tent as she pours the drinks. My nerves heighten.
“Boys,” says her dad, standing tall. “You must be friends from school?”
“This is Robert,” introduces Skye. “And this is Bradley.”
“Pleased to meet you,” says her mom, with one of the most welcoming smiles I’ve seen. “I’m Diana and this is Craig.”
We shake hands to be polite. After which, they both kiss Skye on her forehead, letting her know they’ll be back soon. They’re off for a stroll along the fence.
While we sit, we chat about school, television and the rest of the gang – mostly Kyle and Steve. My thoughts, however, keep turning back to Lighkame. What if I told her? strikes the thought. Would she believe me? I mean she is a Falgron; a good Falgron.
Our eyes catch more than a few times as we chat, seated on camping chairs. Bradley notices and lets me do all the talking. Though, Skye continues to lead with every topic. It’s awkward, to say the least.
I ask the time.
Bradley frowns and asks, “Where’s your phone?”
“It’s dead,” I tell him. He shakes his head.
“Do you need to get going?” asks Skye, noticing me shuffle about.
Bradley tries to say no, but I remind him that we told the gang we’d meet for lunch. There’s a bit of back-and-forth before he, eventually, gives in and says goodbye to Skye.
Skye gently grabs my arm as Bradley walks away. “I have to ask,” she begins, with a whisper, “is everything okay?”
I don’t say a word. Though, I’m pretty sure she can see the worry in my eyes. Maybe she already knows. She is an oracle after all.
“I might be wrong,” she says, “but I think something’s coming, and you’ve gotten yourself smack bang in the middle of it.”
I look her dead in the eyes. What?
“Rob!” calls Bradley. “I thought we were leaving?”
I look at him and then back at Skye.
“We’ll talk later,” she says. “Go.”
§
Back at the campsite, Kyle and Steve continue their usual banter, asking why Bradley and I were late. Kyle still has a roll in his mouth as he speaks. Steve too. I think, a little more than normal, Steve is mimicking Kyle.
I fill my paper plate with a sausage, two rolls and a healthy helping of potato salad. That’s a good meal. I thank Andrew and David for preparing it and open the tent, sit down and get my journal. This is a good time to write.
On my own, I begin: 32 San 2012 – 12h52. The time I get from Bradley, whose voice is scarcely heard over the persistent raillery. I guess this is what our group dynamic has come to. It also doesn’t help that he’s outside, a little distance away.
Things have been happening. Strange things. I don’t even know where to begin. The stalking? The shape changing? The dream? Lighkame…
; I’m being followed by a man whose eyes glow red and whose body changes shape. I saw him as a bird, as a man and as another man he killed with the touch of his hand. Apparently, he takes memories that way, along with other things.
He says he wants to go home, to a place that isn’t here. Another world.
To be honest, I have no idea what’s happening.
The strangest part? My dream, earlier this morning. It was one of those real ones—when you feel you’re actually there. There’s a name for it.
I was in a dark, dingy room with old couches and a modest coffee table. It felt familiar, too familiar. And I’m sure I’ve had this dream before. To the side was an archway that led to another room with a large dining table, empty plates and faded utensils.
Most interesting was a fake tree in one corner, covered in tinsel and plastic stars. Under it, I saw colourful boxes and ribbons. Though, it looked like they’d been there for a while.
“Tell me about what happened here,” struck a voice. Instantly, I knew who it was. My skin began to crawl.
I’m already starting to forget. There’s a haze.
He said something about me allowed him to access certain memories without even touching me. In this case, a dream I’d had more than a couple of times before. But he wanted more. Something about me, he said, would help him get back home.
When I told him that I didn’t know what he was talking about, he raised his hand and came after me. I ran to the other room. On the coffee table was a knife; tribal looking. I picked it up and turned to face Lighkame. He had backed me into a corner.
That’s when the thought came, ‘If this is a dream, all I need to do is wake up.’ I begged. I hoped. I pleaded.
Lighkame came closer.
In a panic, I pressed the knife into my side, piercing the flesh. ‘It’s only a dream,’ I thought. I felt a sharp pain, then a surge like electricity in the area.
That’s when I woke up, petrified. The gang noticed and called for Andrew and David to stop the pickup. That’s when I realised… what happened in my dream happened in real life too.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE LOST GIRL
I close my journal and then my eyes, wishing for all of it to go away. I mean, this feeling is taking over—the situation is grabbing hold. I haven’t even touched my food yet.
“Rob,” brushes an oddly soft voice, distracting me from my thoughts of gloom. It’s Steve entering the tent. “May I join you?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, cross-legged.
I can hear the others outside, mostly Kyle and Dylan. Steve sits in front of me, also cross-legged.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“I should be asking you,” he says, looking a little lower.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, looking in his direction. Something feels strange. Normally, I’d expect him to coax me into joining the group. He does have a way of coming to where you are, though.
“Glad to hear it,” he says, looking around. “Were you writing again?”
“Yeah…”
“May I see?”
Forward. I don’t say a word. The disapproval is all over my face. I put my journal into my bag and hold it closed. This isn’t like Steve.
He moves a little closer. I don’t feel comfortable.
“Gents,” begins Kyle, entering the tent. “We’re heading—” He picks up on something not quite right. “What’s happening here?” he asks.
Steve seems to have been startled.
“Aren’t you eating?” asks Kyle, now eyeing out my full plate.
“Not really hungry,” I answer. “But I’ll take a bite.”
“I can finish it for you,” he volunteers. Bradley gives him a funny look. I feel a little crowded.
I try shuffling my way out of the tent, but Steve grabs hold of me. “Could we have a moment to talk?” he asks. Confused looks come from me and the rest of the gang. I pull away and push my way out of the tent.
“What’s up with you two?” asks Kyle.
I look towards Steve, each of us now outside with a little fresh air. “Nothing,” he says, nudging Kyle. He shoots an awkward smile. “Don’t fret yourself.”
Did he just say that? I think to myself. The rest of the gang thinks the same, clearly, as each of them are left with even more befuddled expressions.
Kyle shakes his head. He doesn’t seem too happy with Steve, but instead of fighting he fetches my food from the tent and keeps on walking. Dylan follows.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“We’re going on a tour,” says Bradley, seemingly unmoved by what just happened. “I’ll go ahead and invite Skye to join us. Meet you there?”
I nod my head. There he goes again. That smile.
“Don’t forget your money,” he says. I barely have eight xentar, I think.
I look at Steve. He doesn’t say a word. I hear Kyle and Dylan in the distance, but it’s not enough to distract me from Steve. He’s acting weird. Out of character, he puts his hand on my shoulder and moves it closer to my face. I feel shivers down my spine, across my arm.
“Steve?” I ask, wide-eyed. Then, the world goes black.
My head begins to spin. My legs start to feel numb. I feel like puking. My eyes are closed. I don’t remember closing them. I feel ground beneath my arms and belly, and a sharp pain piercing my side. What’s happening? Not another blackout, please.
I try pushing myself up from the ground and fall right back down. My arms are like jelly. My feet are throbbing, my legs feel weak. As I roll over, onto my back, I look around to find that I’m alone. Where’s Steve?
I see inya trees all around me; thick, tall, mossy trees wrapped in evergreen leaves. I see calpryc vines stretch from one tree to the other and hear the buzzing sound of envirio; little flying insects found only in a select few places. They’re pollinators. Their wings are their most distinct feature; made up of a unique chemical structure that allows them to make an array of sounds.
There’s a burrow at the base of the tree in front of me. It must be home to an arkantie colony; skinny rodents with sharp claws and long tails. How do I know? Stephen.
I’m in the forest – the actual forest – and I have no idea how I got here. I hear my heart pounding and I’m struggling to breathe. Calm down, Robert, I tell myself.
I try sitting up and fall back, onto my elbows. The only remaining comfort is the padded grass below my body… I’m not calming down. I feel a thick lump inside my chest. I want to move, but I don’t know where to. I want to cry out, but the words are trapped inside. I close my eyes and take a breath – a deep breath.
Then, in the blackness, I see the inya trees all around me – the same way I saw the bird above the pickup and the man in the filling station restroom. I see myself – almost like an x-ray scan, only clearer. I see, inside my pocket, my phone. The focus then jumps to the trees behind me and I see the colour-inverted silhouette of a man. He’s moving my direction. Lighkame?
I open my eyes quickly and, with newfound strength, push myself up onto my wobbly feet. My hands move frantically in and out of my pockets to search for my phone. There. No! I feel like kicking myself. The battery is dead, Robert. Remember?
I look behind me and stumble to the nearest tree, attempting to hide behind it. I try desperately to control my breathing. I don’t understand what’s happening, but it feels like I’ve been running for ages. A pain stabs my side and a throbbing sensation lingers.
I hold my phone to my chest. It won’t turn on. Why didn’t I charge it? My heart pounds even harder.
“You can’t run forever,” asserts an all-too-familiar voice.
I press my back more tightly against the tree.
“Please, don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I don’t want to hurt you—whoever you are. It’s just… I can’t stay here.”
He comes right beside me. “If there were another way…” he says, turning to face me.
But, in that moment, a bright, silverish-white light comes over me. Not from him, I don’t think. I furrow my brows and wince, noticing the expected red glow from his eyes. They’re battling to pierce through. Could it be Lightaia?
I hold my breath and sidle around the tree. It doesn’t look like he can see me, which almost brings a sense of relief. Though, I’m not quite out of the woods, yet. I close my eyes and see plain white and everything else faintly embossed over. I see the white shadow of Lighkame walk on by, appearing to have lost me.
Is he gone? I open my eyes. It takes a moment for them to readjust. The light that shrouded me is no longer there. I don’t understand—I’m getting tired of this. I look over my shoulder, just to make sure Lighkame isn’t there. He isn’t. I take a moment, slouched against the tree. I need to figure out what’s going on. For now, at least, my foreboding dissipates.
My strength continues to return, slowly. All I need is enough to take me back to the campsite, without being caught. I take my jacket off and put my phone back into its usual pocket.
I start moving to my left, then briefly to my right. Which way, Robert? I ask myself, caught in a stupor of thought. Which way did he come from?
I’m hyping myself up again. Stop it, I tell myself. Just think for a moment.
That way? It all looks the same. I’m lost. I don’t have a phone to help me and my sense of direction is sorely wanting. At least I know I was never meant to be an envirio.
Perhaps, if I try… It’s crazy, I know, but I don’t have many other options.
I close my eyes. Nothing but black fills my mind’s eye. Wait… Images pass by, in and out of mind, but not what I need. I concentrate. Whitish blue spots flicker to form one—no, two trees around me, but they fade just as quickly as they appear.
I push myself against a tree in front of me. It isn’t working. The calmness didn’t last. Get up, Robert, I tell myself. You have to get back to the campsite.
A flurry of wings grabs my attention. A pair of soarie, avian wonders, are perched on a branch with a partially built nest. One of them has white stripes through its large brown wings and a frightening red-yellow beak. That’s the male. The female has scruffy brown feathers and a slender orange beak.
