I tried to walk quickly into the woods without making too much noise, but then I heard the dog begin to bark. Thick underbrush slowed me down, and I had to keep stepping over fallen branches.
“What is it, Max?” The man called out to his dog.
Stepping behind a wide tree, I carefully peered around to see what the man was going to do about his dog, which had either picked up my scent or heard me tromping through the underbrush. About a hundred feet from where I hid, the dog barked wildly and pranced around in place, clearly wanting permission to go after his find. With the one eye I allowed to be exposed, I saw that the dog was a German Sheppard. Gasping in fear that I would be attacked, I flattened myself against the tree trunk and tried to slow my breathing.
“Max. Calm down, boy. It’s probably just a squirrel. We don’t have time to chase squirrels today. It’s getting near dark and we need to get back.”
The dog continued barking, ignoring his owner.
Daring to peek again, I turned my head ever so slightly so I could see around the trunk. Apparently the dog saw me because his barking became more agitated and he took several steps toward me.
“Come!” the man said.
When I heard the man and his dog leaving, relief flooded me. Not wanting to run into them again, or anyone else for that matter, I decided to avoid the footpath and to venture farther into the woods. Even though my gut told me it was probably not the best idea, I decided to do it anyway.
Feeling clever, I decided to mark my path so I could find my way back when I was ready to come home. I took off my backpack and in a side pocket I pulled out my favorite red lipstick. Frowning, I put it back in, then rummaged around some more and found a fat purple marker.
“Nice.” I’d forgotten that was in there, left over from a school project I had recently done. My English teacher had us create a collage of pictures expressing our interests. I had hunted through Mom’s magazines for just the right pictures. Finally I had found the ones I wanted: a picture of a cute boy, the latest cell phone (of course), a dog that looked similar to mine, a woman sleeping on a comfortable mattress (because I like to sleep), French fries, a certain men’s cologne that I loved to smell on boys, and a few random pictures of make-up to fill in the blank spots. Then right before I’d left for school I’d remembered that I was supposed to write a short poem using my favorite color pen and attach it to the poster board.
I had tossed the pen in my backpack and written the poem before class. The poem wasn’t half bad for being done in such a hurry, although I admit it was a little challenging to write it with such a fat pen. Oh well, you can’t have everything.
Now I took the lid off the pen and smiled. I backed up a few steps to make sure I could see the path from where I stood and then dragged the pen across the smooth tree trunk, leaving a wide purple streak that I would be able to see when I came back, but no one on the path would be able to see.
Pleased with my resourcefulness, I continued into the woods another twenty feet or so and made a mark on another tree. I kept going like this, marking trees as often as necessary, until I had gone quite a ways into the woods. After about half an hour I stopped, noticing how dark it was getting. And then I realized that I had been so focused on marking the trees that I hadn’t really paid attention to where I was going.
The chill in the air began to feel like small bugs biting my cheeks and I wondered if it was possible for me to freeze to death. Suddenly home sounded like a good place to be and running away didn’t seem like such a smart idea. I turned around to go back the way I had come, but then realized I couldn’t see my pen marks on the trees in the mounting darkness, and if I just started walking I risked becoming completely lost.
A sudden feeling of panic crept up my throat and I found it hard to breathe. Turning in slow circles, squinting into the dark, I wasn’t sure which way to go. I thought I had planned so well, but I hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I whispered. A distant howl made me scream and I slapped my hand over my mouth, not wanting to draw the creature to me. I looked up at the sky, as if doing so would make the sun appear. The gray clouds briefly parted and the moon shone, dimly lighting the area. Taking advantage of the faint light, my gaze darted around.
Nothing promising in view. I took several steps in one direction, then in another, fearful that the moon would be covered in clouds at any moment, extinguishing my only source of light.
Forcing myself to calm down, I concentrated on thoroughly studying each direction. After a moment I thought I saw something. Peering more intently into the dark, I smiled.
Yes.
A small structure stood a short distance away.
Chapter Two
Hurrying toward it as best I could among the bushes and fallen tree limbs, I reached it just as the moon hid behind the clouds. Gentle snowflakes settled on my cheeks and I felt doubly glad that I had found this tiny hut.
I knocked on the wooden door, not wanting to walk in if someone was home, although the place looked abandoned. I waited a moment and when there was no reply I knocked again, this time using my fist.
Still no response.
“I guess no one’s home,” I muttered.
The snow flurries thickened as my hand grasped the doorknob. It didn’t budge.
Despite my jacket and gloves, I began to shiver. Perhaps it was more from fear than from cold, but whatever the reason, my words came out in a stutter. “Who would lock the door out here in the middle of nowhere?”
I walked around the small building, examining the structure. The hut was a square, each of the wooden walls about ten feet long. There was no other entrance and the only windows were tiny ones on either side of the front door—too small for me to crawl through. Then I considered breaking the glass so I could reach in and unlock the door, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to reach the lock. Besides, if the window was broken, cold air would come in.
Using all of my strength, I grasped the door knob and shoved my shoulder against the door. After several tries the door burst inward. Quickly closing the door behind me, I grimaced as I realized the space offered little warmth.
Peering into the complete darkness, I inched forward, but after only a few steps I bumped into a table. A table with nothing on it. I decided to explore the room as best as I could, not being able to see anything. As I moved toward the nearest wall with my hands outstretched, I stopped, frowning, remembering when I was little and I’d walk around with my eyes closed, just for fun, to see if I could find my way. But this was no child’s game and I didn’t know what dangers might be lurking. The thought made me pause and I had to swallow my fear and force myself to keep going. As a precaution, I left my gloves on.
Holding my hands out in front of me, I shuffled forward, wanting to avoid tripping over some unseen hazard. After a few steps my hands touched the wall. Flattening my gloved hands against the hard surface, I explored the wall but found nothing but the wall. Sliding my feet slowly to my left, I continued to explore.
After a moment I reached the place where two walls met. Something thin and wispy tickled my cheek and I screamed, then pushed away the cobwebs. The idea of a big hairy spider watching me, or worse yet, getting tangled in my hair, made me shudder. I patted my head to make sure my knit hat was still in place and adjusted my scarf to cover most of my face. Feeling more secure, I continued my blind search.
As I shifted to the new wall, the surface felt different. Hard bumps stuck out in places and I realized they were handles for cabinets and drawers. Though hope blossomed inside me that I might find something I could use, the idea of sticking my hand into a dark cavern sent a new spasm of shudders racing through me.
After a moment I gathered my courage and pulled open the first cabinet. Cautiously, I lifted my hand toward the opening, then centimeter by centimeter I reached inside, expecting at any moment to have my gloved hand pierced by the fangs of some hideous creature. When all my hand found was empty air, my bravery i
ncreased and I moved my hand around more confidently, verifying that the space was bare.
When I opened the next cupboard I wasn’t quite as nervous and reached inside with more sureness, but when my hand bumped against something, I was so startled that I jumped backward and nearly fell. With adrenaline pounding through my veins, I froze, waiting to see what would happen next. When nothing jumped out and attacked me, I decided to figure out what it was I had touched. This time I reached inside with both hands and immediately felt the hard object. The sides felt smooth and the top was curved, but when I discovered a handle hanging against the side, my hopes rose.
I pulled the object out of the cupboard and turned toward the meager light coming in from the small windows on either side of the front door and confirmed my suspicions.
“Yes,” I whispered. “A lantern.”
Next, I needed to find some matches. I set the lantern on the table and turned back to the wall of cabinets and drawers. Handles along the drawer fronts made the drawers easy to pull open. Removing my gloves to better feel, I reached toward the open drawer. Fearing spiders might be hiding inside, I stopped and leaned down, then blew a puff of air into the open drawer, hoping to scare off any insects. A cloud of dust went up my nose and I coughed. Pointing one finger downward into the drawer, I quickly touched the bottom of the drawer before pulling my hand back. Nothing bit me so I reached my whole hand inside and felt around. Small, hard pellets were sprinkled in the bottom.
“Eww, mouse droppings.”
Swallowing my disgust, I ventured farther. Cobwebs caught in my fingers and I had to force myself to keep exploring. My fingers reached all the way to the back, but found nothing. I pulled open the second drawer and carefully explored it. Just as I was about to give up I felt a small box. I lifted it out and held it close to my face. Matches! A smile lifted the corners of my mouth as I slid the box open and pulled out a tiny stick.
I brushed the match against the rough side of the box and was rewarded by a bright flame. Carrying the burning match to the table, I used it to help me examine the lantern. It looked like it was in good shape, although it was coated with a thick layer of dust. I was suddenly grateful for the many times the power had gone out and Dad had made me learn how to light the lantern.
The match burned out and I picked up the lantern
First, I gently shook it and heard liquid sloshing around, confirming the presence of fuel. Then I pumped the knob to force the gas to fill the line. Last, I lit another match and inserted it through the small opening at the base of the glass, lighting the fragile mantle that hung inside. It caught and I withdrew the match before blowing it out. Then I turned the knob on the lantern to release more gas, brightening the flame.
Calmness washed over me as darkness fled. I lifted the lantern by the handle and explored the room. It was a little smaller than my bedroom, but less cluttered. Along one wall were the cabinets, where I had found the lantern and matches. In a corner sat a rocking chair that looked like it had seen better days. Against the opposite wall sat a bare cot. But the item that made me close my eyes in anticipation was the wood burning stove squatting on the floor in the far corner.
Carrying the box of matches with me, I walked to the stove, set the lantern on the floor and pulled on the cast iron door. The hinges creaked and I frowned when I saw nothing but a few cold ashes scattered at the bottom of the stove. I looked on the far side of the stove and smiled when I saw a small stack of wood in a neat pile. Old newspapers lay next to the wood.
Who does this place belong to? I wondered. I didn’t really care—I was just grateful it was here.
I had seen my dad build fires in our fireplace many times and figured it couldn’t be that difficult to get a fire going. After placing a few logs in the stove, I scrunched up some pages of the newspaper and pushed them under the logs. I lit a match and held it to the edge of a newspaper, which quickly caught fire, but the logs remained stubbornly unlit. Stuffing more newspapers into the stove didn’t seem to help like I thought it would.
Sighing, I stood and picked up the lantern, then began a careful search in the immediate vicinity of the stove, looking for something that might give me an idea. Finally, I found it. A fireplace poker.
I set the lantern back down and used the poker to move the smoldering newspaper around. Gently blowing on the embers as I added a few more newspapers didn’t give me the result I’d been trying for and discouragement began to get the better of me.
Dad made this look so easy. Picturing him lighting a warm fire in our living room fireplace made me suddenly miss my family. As I thought about their reaction to finding me missing, I didn’t feel good anymore; not even when I thought about Mom. I felt guilty and wished I had a way to let them know I was okay.
I wondered if they would call the police and have them out looking for a boy named William. I felt stupid for the lie I’d told Amy and wished I would have thought this through.
Well, I’m stuck here for now, I thought. I’d better deal with it.
I turned my attention back to the wood-burning stove. The newspapers had gone out completely. Using the poker, I pushed them to the back of the stove. This time when I wadded up the newspapers, I made sure to do it loosely. Repositioning the wood, I carefully placed the newspaper around and under the wood before lighting another match.
As the flames from the newspaper licked the firewood, I held my breath, afraid the logs would still refuse to burn. The flame seemed to shrink and I quickly added two more newspaper wads, which helped the flames grow. Suddenly I heard crackling as the logs caught fire.
Relief pulsed through me as the beginnings of warmth emanated from the stove.
Soon the chill began to seep from my body and warmth took its place. I fed more logs into the fire and made sure they were blazing before closing the door to the stove. Dragging the cot close to the heat, I took the space blanket out of my backpack, along with the water bottle and a granola bar, then sat on the cot and wrapped the blanket over the lower half of my body.
Now that I could focus on something besides building the fire, I munched on the granola bar and thought about my parents and how frantic they must be by now. Running away didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore and I wished I hadn’t been so impulsive.
That was one thing Mom always accused me of—being impulsive.
“You’re always jumping into things without thinking,” Mom would say, shaking her head. “Why don’t you think things through once in a while?”
I frowned as I thought about Mom picking on me. She never seemed to pick on Amy or my two younger brothers. Maybe it was because I was the oldest. Mom thought I should act like a grown-up all the time. It just wasn’t fair. I hadn’t asked to be born first.
Then I thought about Dad. He would be worried about me being out with some boy, assuming Amy told him. But what if she kept her promise and didn’t tell? What if they figured out that I ran away? Dad would be worried about me out in this snowstorm. Would he go out in it to search for me? Of course he would. What if something happened to him? It would be my fault. Guilt pounded through me as I pictured him searching and searching for me.
“What have I done?” I whispered. I stared out the small windows on either side of the door but could see nothing in the darkness.
I would go home as soon as the sun came up. Maybe I’d even get home in time to catch the bus to school.
The thought of home and family made me feel better. All I had to do was follow my purple markings on the trees and I would be home.
I set the water bottle on the floor and curled up on the cot. The space blanket had done a good job of warming me up and I tucked my arms underneath it. Sleep came quickly, but during the night I woke to a violent crashing sound. It was too dark to see what had happened, but my heart raced until I realized I was okay. I climbed off of the cot and felt my way to the lantern. It had gone dark and when I tried to light it I found the mantle had burned out and I didn’t know where to find a replacement.
The room had become chilled and I realized the fire was nearly out. I added some wood and blew on the embers, which flared up into small flames, licking the dry logs. To my relief, soon the fire was going again. I thought it strange that despite the brightly burning fire, the room seemed to be as cold as ever.
Knowing there was nothing I could do until morning, I lay back on the cot and tried to sleep.
A few hours later bright sunlight streamed into the room, waking me. I stretched and yawned, then sat up on the cot. The fire had gone out, which was fine since I was planning on leaving as soon as I had a snack. Glancing toward where the sunlight shone in, I saw that a large tree had fallen on the roof, right above the door.
Obviously, that was the large crash that had woken me. The door bent at a weird angle and the windows were shattered, their small openings allowing snow to filter through. Walking over to the windows, I peeked through the space where the glass should have been and saw the snowstorm had stopped, although there appeared to be at least a foot of snow on the ground.
I turned the doorknob and pulled, but nothing happened. I yanked on the door as hard as I could, but it wouldn’t budge. I pushed against the tree but it was wedged in tight and didn’t give an inch.
The blood drained from my face as I realized the reality of my situation. I was trapped. The windows were much too small to crawl through, even if I did want to risk slicing my body with the broken shards of glass, and I couldn’t see any way through the tree.
To keep the panic at bay, I began pacing the room, trying to come up with a solution. I walked along each side of the room, occasionally pounding on the wall to see if there were any weak spots where I could break through. The walls were solid wood.
Gone (Parallel Trilogy, Book 1) Page 2
