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Tranquil Fury

Page 5

by P. G. Thomas


  Eric woke up the others, and as they approached the oddity, everybody stared at it in disbelief. It should have been a huge forest, almost two football stadiums long, with trees that shot up over two hundred feet. Instead, stretched over the top of the massive expanse was a thick, black tarp that nearly reached the ground. Huge ropes, several inches in diameter, grew from the tarp, and were tied to large iron stakes pounded deep into the ground. The ropes, pulled so taut, that even the stiffest winds rendered them motionless. The tarp extended fifty feet past where the forest began, under which was a ten-foot-deep ditch, measuring about thirty feet wide, with distinct forty-five degree angled sides.

  Mirtza was the first to speak, “This does not bode well.”

  “What has happened here,” asked John?

  Mirtza looked at the small group of odd travellers, and then back to the tarp covered forest, “What you see for the first time, I see for the first time. What you cannot explain, I cannot explain either.”

  Lauren then asked, “How much longer to find the doctors you spoke of?”

  Mirtza replied, “I do not know, they used to live here, but I don’t think anybody is home.” He paused for a minute, “It is too late to do anything else. Let us make camp under the tarp tonight. At least we shall be dry. Unload the wagon. We will have to carry Ryan inside. Zack, do you think you can walk in?”

  “If Logan helps me, I will give it a try.”

  It took about an hour to get everyone and everything, from the wagon through the ditch, and into the covered forest. Lauren and John carried in the various chests and blankets, while Mirtza and Eric struggled with Ryan on the makeshift backboard stretcher. When the wagon was unloaded, and everything was inside, Mirtza made one last trip to the wagon to make sure it, and the oxen would be secure for the night. When he returned, he prepared a fire for the night meal in silence, and considered his options.

  The quiet tension grew during the meal, until Lauren finally spoke, “Mirtza, tell us something, anything! What is going on?”

  “Tomorrow I am going to head out alone, as I can travel faster, and cover more territory. I will leave the chests so that you may prepare meals, and the medicine bag, so that you can tend to your friends. I will also leave two of my platinum rings. When you reach into the chest with the ring, you will find what you are looking for. Each box has gold figures or amulets on the inside, which represent the contents of the box. Have a good look at the gold figures to see what each box contains. Then before you open the box, just think of what you want, and it will be waiting for you. Without the ring, the chest is empty. I need to find somebody who knows what is going on.”

  Lauren was not pleased, “What happens if you do not come back?”

  “I understand your concern, but if we do not get help, I fear for your friends' health. And there is something else going on, but I do not know what it is. Look at this forest. It’s as if someone is trying to kill it. Why would you kill a forest?” Mirtza’s mood changed, and he became reserved. “I have never been here before, but I remember the stories from class.” He walked over to a tall tree with a four-foot diameter trunk, that should have supported a massive green tower, “These are Ironwood trees. No saw or axe can harm them, no fire can burn them.” He walked over to some dried out bushes, “There should be over a dozen different berry bushes growing here. There is one in particular, that when you ate the berry, it will sustain you for a week. There are berries to heal you, help you sleep, calm your mind. And the flowers, they can heal you as well. There were plants that could create light, start fires, purify water and much more. They had samples in class that an elfin Earth Daughter had given to one of the students, and advised on their usage. We would cut our hand, rub a flower on it, and the wound would heal. We would take a goblet of muddy water, drop in one of the berries, and the result would be pure. The mushrooms were magical as well.” Zack sat upright, as Mirtza continued, “I talked with that student for hours about this place, but to this day, I still remember the stories of the elves, and the magic like it was yesterday. Even the air seemed to have some sort of magic in it. And the elves, they were everywhere. I have never met an elf, was looking forward to meeting them. I then went in search of similar places, and I found a few small forests, but nothing that would compare to this. Why would you kill a forest? Where are the elves?” Mirtza shook his head, “Look, I realize you have no idea about what is going on. Well, you are not rowing that boat alone. We all need answers, but your friends need help, so tomorrow I will go to find those answers. Give me three days, but do not stray from this forest, go deeper in if you wish to hide, and post a watch on the road, but do not show yourselves to anybody. I will give Lauren instructions on how to administer the medicine to your friends, what little I have left. I know that you don’t like this plan, but traveling as a group, we move too slowly.”

  “Mirtza, you can’t just leave us here.” Lauren was irritated, “What the hell is this, some kind of trick or trap? Admit it. And what is all this talk about elves?”

  “I wish I knew what was happening, but I really have no idea. Nothing makes any sense. I travelled through the Newlands for three months and saw nobody. We are in the extreme northwest of the Northlands, yet the further I travel, the stranger everything becomes. There should have been elven healers here, but I see none. Nothing I find is what it should be. It is as if I am travelling through a strange land, and I don’t recognize a thing.”

  “Dude, that really is not funny,” replied Zack.

  “Zack, I am not trying to be humorous. I better understand what you must be feeling, but I am still without answers. Worse yet, I am running out of options about what to do next.”

  “What if… if you don’t come back,” asked Lauren?

  “For some reason, be it fate, destiny or something else, all things under the stars have tasked me with being your host or guardian. While I think those powers could have made a better choice, I will accept this burden, though that is a poor choice of words. There is a saying at my school; everything happens for a reason. I have to believe that right now, and I will use every resource I have to return in three days. Now it is late, let’s sleep, and dream of better days.” Mirtza then handed his medicine bag to Lauren, pulled out the three small containers, and described how to administer the medications. Then, without a word, they laid out their bedding, and despite their troubled minds, quickly fell asleep.

  Chapter 6

  Mirtza woke before the others, went out to the road, but the wagon and ox were not there. The night before, he had not gone to the road to check on them, he had gone to retrieve them, and had placed them in his cloak pocket for safe keeping. From the same pocket, he pulled out a gold amulet with four saddled horses in a wagon harness. Pulling one of the horses from the amulet, he placed it on the ground and waved his cloak over it. But, before the cloak could fall to the ground, a huge, eight-legged horse materialized in front of him. He pulled his cloak off the huge horse, and quickly put it back on. The warning at the school about this amulet had been stiff, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He climbed into the saddle, and leaned forward and whispered into its ear, “Find people.” They had said that it would travel fast, and of that, they were right. By midday, the horse had found four small villages. Before the last sun had set, he had looked in the doors of another six, the last of which he stayed at, but could find no living souls. Some of the houses stripped of all prized possessions, as if somebody had moved out. In others, he found bugs buzzing around old meals, still sitting on their tables. The only thing that he found was more posters, ‘BEWARE PLAGUE!’

  *******

  Mirtza was gone when Eric woke, and he quickly woke everybody else, “John you have first watch on the road. Go! Now! Logan, start the fire. Lauren, please make breakfast for us. I am going to see if I can find a more secure location.” As he wandered into the forest, he thought, what am I supposed to do? Eric traveled along an old game trail, and came across a large clearing about 20
0 feet back. The ground was more rock than soil, which would prevent their fire from spreading, some fallen trees for them to hide behind, and no overhead trees to embrace stray sparks from their campfire. To Eric, it looked a much safer spot. It even looked like gatherings may have occurred here, a long time ago, a natural meeting spot. He walked back to the group where he found breakfast waiting for him, filled two plates, and headed to where they had entered the forest. As he sat down, he gave one plate to John, “Well, what would Harry do in this situation?”

  John smiled and took the plate, “I think we wait the three days, because honestly, we really don’t have any other choice.” Again, they ate another meal in silence. But as Eric stood, John looked at him, “I am worried. This isn’t science camp where I am feeling homesick. I am really scared. I am only thirteen. Stuff like this isn’t supposed to happen!”

  Eric smiled, “You’re scared because for the first time in your life you don’t know what is happening. Back at school, you could walk into any classroom, answer any question, you knew everything. To be honest, I am counting on you to figure this out, and to find us a way home. Logan will do the next watch. If you see anything, come and get us. We’re moving about 200 feet further back into the forest. When you get back to the old site call out, and I will come and get you.” As Eric started back to the camp, he looked back towards John, could see him crying, held back his own tears, we are never getting home, we will never see our families again. We’re screwed. In a few years from now, we’ll have forgotten about our families, then we will…what the hell will we do? What the hell happened?

  It was the third day, in a strange world that no one understood, and all missed their families. The shock had worn off, and now temporarily abandoned— they hoped, the gravity of the situation was weighing heavily on each of them in different ways. Lauren was pacing in circles. Wait. It is the most disgusting of all the four letter words. Eric was also in a bad mood, he wanted to lead them to safety, but did not know where it was, but would actually prefer to find a way back home. Zack was in a bad mood because of the pain, and when Logan recognized where Lauren was heading, he went to join John at the lookout post.

  Lauren was like a storm brewing on the horizon, and when John came in from his shift, he heard the yelling, turned around, and went back to watch the road with Logan. The storm known as Lauren had arrived, and clashed with the force known as Eric, and Zack was just cursing at the both of them. An hour later, Eric went out and joined Logan and John watching the road, but they did not ask what had happened, as the frustration was evident in his expression.

  Lauren finally got tired of pacing, her voice hoarse from shouting. What the hell are we going to do? Crap world. Well, at least Zack is free from his uncle. Poor John. Back home, he was destined for great things. He probably would have created a computer company like his father, and sold it for even more money. Here he might still be the most intelligent person, but in a world short on books, John is going to be one lonely character. Sure, he will probably help industrialize this world, but he will never have the technology that he loves so much. Eric? Without competitive sports? He’s a lost soul as well. The best he can hope for is working on a farm pulling a plough through a field. No scholarships. No professional teams offering him million dollar contracts. At least John is free from the bullies. Well, at least he will always have Eric. Maybe John will buy a farm, and hire Eric.

  Then Lauren looked at Ryan, Bastard, thought back to the last time she had seen him like this. They were in the hospital, six weeks after they had buried Samantha, her older sister. And eight weeks since the car accident. Ryan had just woken from his coma, and been informed that the police had cleared him of any wrong in the accident. Her parents were still upset, but they had forgiven Ryan, and wanted to show support to his family, as they did not want them to feel it was their fault. But Lauren did not share the same feelings. There had to have been something, something different you could have done. Bastard! She still remembered the vile curses she told Ryan with her hushed, but angered voice. Then the thought of her parents brought forth tears, and she wept for hours.

  After the first sunset, Eric, Logan, and John finally wandered back over to the camp, where Lauren was preparing a meal for them. John felt sure she would not need a fire to cook the meal, as she was so angry, she could make a pot boil, just by looking at it. After the meal, she walked over to Ryan to give him the medicine as Mirtza had instructed. Why do I have to be the one to look after the guy who killed my sister? And that was the breaking point. She went over to the fire, “I want somebody to tell me something, anything, as long as it’s the truth. Do not lie to me. What are we going to do? What happens if Mirtza does not come back? What are we going to do about Ryan? Somebody? Anybody? This is bullshit!”

  Eric stood up, and tried to talk to Lauren. But she was like a pressure cooker left over an open flame for too long, something had to give. Before the shouting would start again, and she would say something she could not take back, Lauren dashed off into the dead forest. Logan went to go after her, but Eric stopped him, “She’ll be okay, she just needs to let off some steam. She’ll be safe, as we haven’t seen anything or anybody out here. Logan, if you go after her, you’ll become the target of her frustration.” Then Eric headed out to watch the road, “I will be back in a few hours. I don’t think anybody will travel that road in the middle of the night.”

  Logan looked to John, but he just shrugged his shoulders. So Logan added some firewood to the campfire, so Lauren would be able to find her way back, and then sat down.

  Lauren was deep into the forest when she came across a wide path, which she followed to its end. The tarp was dark, but stretched so thin, some light did penetrate. When she reached the far end, she stopped and fell to her knees, sobbing. What the hell is happening? How do you get into an accident, and wake up in another world. Here, nothing makes sense. Maybe we are all dead, caught in a shared delusion. Maybe it’s just a dream. She pinched her arm, but did not sit up in a warm bed. She thought of her parents, how are they going to handle losing two more of their children, it will rip them apart! The funeral with closed caskets, because there are no bodies, or will they go through seven years of hell waiting for us to be declared legally dead. Maybe after that long, they will forget, and never have a funeral for us. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this… She sobbed for hours, torturing herself with thoughts of despair, dark depression arriving like the night, and after a while, she could cry no more. She heard the familiar sound of rain, “God, I would love a hot bath right now. Even a shower!”

  Lauren loved her huge backyard, being outdoors, around nature, it always made her feel happy. But here they kill trees, and slowly. She grabbed a dead looking tree about five feet tall, pulled it from the ground, roots and all. Then broke the small branches off the crown, and started smashing the tarp with it, and it felt good to hurt something. She vented all of her frustration into the tarp, wailed on it as if it was a personal assault to her senses. Then Lauren noticed a small rip, and beat the tarp as if it was a mortal enemy. The rip grew until the forces on the tarp made it spread open, from the ground to the highest tree, it separated, and to her, it felt like she had won a victory. Gentle rain fell on Lauren, and it felt like hope. She stood there in the darkening forest for over an hour, letting the rain wash away the tears, the road dust, the despair. As the night became darker, the temperature began to drop, so Lauren wandered back into a section of the forest that the tarp still covered. She found a huge tree with a large exposed cavity, and crawled into it, with her dead tree staff.

  Deep sleep came quickly. And with it, dreams. She was sitting on a stump, in the middle of a clearing, a cloudless blue sky above. The forest that surrounded her was vibrant with colors, bright flowers, tree leaves that seemed to glow. Everything was so intense, the smell, the air, the feeling of being alive. As Lauren sat there, large white wispy butterflies surrounded her. Inside the dream, she dreamt the story that her mother had told her, sa
w her mother pointing in the dream, “Lauren, look at the butterfly.” Lauren saw her young self reply, “Mommy, butter can’t fly.”

  As Lauren watched, more and more butterflies landed on branches, flowers, grass, and the stumps in front of her. Quite often, one would fly over to another, rub their antennas together, then go and visit another. She slowly turned around on the stump, and saw that they outnumbered her, as there were hundreds. Lauren smiled as she watched the wispy insects form into groups, break apart, and then make new groups. It was magical. Then slowly, they started to fly away, all but twelve, which made her sad. Throughout the dream, the butterflies had all been white. As she looked at the remaining twelve, they started to change color. But not solid colors, each one displayed dozens of changing hues and shades. Then one came over, wrapped itself around Lauren, and then slowly the other ten embraced her, the last one being reluctant, but eventually joined in the embrace.

  *******

  All night long Logan tossed and turned. Sure, he had seen Lauren upset before, but it was usually because he had caused it. Yesterday and last night was different. He had only seen his sister this upset once before, when she had first blamed Ryan for Samantha’s death. Those were brutal weeks. Considering the circumstances, most of their family and friends went through the five stages of grief relatively quick, except for Lauren. The funeral put an end to any arguments of denial she may have harbored, but it opened up to a sea of anger. Over the last two years, that storm had lost most of its energy, but small parts of it still remained deep inside of her. Say the wrong thing, those icy gale force winds that fueled her anger would renew themselves in seconds, which Logan had learned the hard way a year ago. While he could still pull Lauren’s strings, he now knew better than to use their dead sister’s name in jest. While counselling had helped her to get in and out of the different grief stages, Lauren had always rejected the notion of acceptance. Instead, she adopted a simple philosophy, as long as she never forgot about Samantha, then her sister would always be with her.

 

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