A World Apart (The Jake Thomas Trilogy - Book 1)

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A World Apart (The Jake Thomas Trilogy - Book 1) Page 4

by Tolle, Steven A.


  Jake sat on the bed for a minute or so, thinking about what his father had said, feeling somewhat better, then got up and left his room. He entered the kitchen and saw that his father had sat back down at the table, his brother and sister both talking to him at once. His mother was still in the kitchen, spooning some extra potatoes into a bowl. She looked at Jake and gave him a warm smile. Seeing that as he approached her, Jake felt guilty for having shouted at her.

  "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Mom." Jake said quietly. "I've had a pretty crappy day."

  His mother reached out and pulled him into a fierce hug. His sore ribs protested against the pressure of her embrace. "That's ok, Jake. I love you and am just so worried for you." She released him, reached up and lightly touched his swollen eye. "Are you sure you are ok? That looks bad, honey."

  "I'm fine, Mom. It looks worse that it feels." Jake lied.

  "If you say so, Jake." She gave him another quick hug and turned back to the potatoes. "Why don't you go sit down and get something to eat."

  "I'm not hungry, Mom. I just want to head outside and get some fresh air to clear my head."

  His mother frowned at that, but said. "Ok, sweetheart, I'll make a plate for you. Don't be too long."

  Jake headed out the back door, grateful for the cool night air. After all of the conflicting emotions he had just gone through, he felt the need for the solitude of the woods. He paused for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness and then began moving towards the woods.

  The almost-full moon, in a cloudless sky, was bathing the ground in a faint silvery light, allowing Jake to see where he was going. As he reached the edge of the woods, the moonlight made the shadows under the trees in the woods seem even darker. Unconcerned, he headed in; having been in the woods many times, he was confident about his ability to navigate in the dark.

  He made his way through the trees to the pond. The water seemed to sparkle as the moonlight reflected off the slight ripples that were pushed by the movement of the frogs and insects across its surface. At the edge of the pond, a large flat rock seemed to call to Jake. It had been placed there many years before, serving as convenient seat for enjoying the pond. It protruded into the pond a foot or so, so people could soak their feet without having to sit in the dirt.

  Jake made his way to the rock and sat down. He pulled up his hood and laid back on the rock. He shifted a couple of times to take pressure off his ribs, finding a comfortable position. He rested his head back and gazed up at the stars. Once he had settled and stopped moving, the frogs around the pond resumed their calls that they had stopped at his approach. The noise they raised started to intrude into his thoughts, so he sat up and pulled out his phone and earbuds to start his music. He put the earbuds in and looked at his phone.

  As he tapped the phone to wake it up, he saw that he had received several texts. Sighing, he opened his messages. The first one was from Matt. "Dude, someone posted on Facebook that you got jumped by the Donster. Let me know." The next was from Sean. "Matt told me that Donald found you. I thought you were ok?" The last one was from Tina. "Jake, I heard something about a fight. Call me."

  Jake groaned, suddenly hating social media. This was going to be a nightmare when he went back to school. Everyone would know by tomorrow. He did not feel like replying right now, so he closed out the messages and went to his playlists. He selected his soft mix, wanting to relax. As the first song came on, he adjusted the volume and lay back down.

  His thoughts drifted as he watched the stars slowly move across the sky overhead. He thought of Sabrina, then Tina, about what he would say to his friends, how to handle the scene at school. The rapid succession of thoughts and images slowed into a repetitive pattern of visions of Sabrina and Tina. Soon, even those thoughts faded and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

  Some instinct startled Jake awake. He felt a chill pass through his body and knew something was wrong. He sat up as quickly as his injured body allowed and pulled out his earbuds. He swiftly looked around, but only saw the shadowy outline of the trees and the moonlight dappling the ground through the breaks in the trees. Confused, he looked all around the clearing again, this time with deliberate purpose, but saw nothing unusual. All of the sudden, he realized what was wrong. It was too quiet. There were no sounds, not even the sound of the slight breeze moving in the trees.

  Freaked out by the silence, he started to rise to leave when he saw the flashes of light in the pond; it was not the reflections of moonlight on the water, it seemed to be coming from beneath the surface. He moved cautiously to the edge of the rock and peered into the water, ignoring the sudden throbbing in his head. He saw a ball of pulsing bluish-white light seeming to emanate from the bottom of the pond. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, fascinated, concerns and injuries temporarily forgotten. He racked his brain, but could not figure out what would be causing that to happen.

  With an abrupt start, he realized that he should be getting this on his camera. He was reaching for his phone when the light suddenly pulsed brightly. Before Jake could react, the light pulsed again and seemed to erupt noiselessly from the pond. He tried to move, but the light quickly surrounded him, squeezing him tightly as if he was captured in a giant fist, the brightness blinding his sight. He screamed for help, but no sound reached his ears as if the light absorbed it all. The light flared again and he could feel warmth spread over his body. Quicker than thought, he felt a sudden wrenching and the sensation of acceleration as if he were being pulled rapidly over an unimaginable distance.

  Chapter Four

  Wrapped in the cocoon of light, Jake could not see or hear anything. He knew he was still breathing and was aware of his body. The warmth of the light filled him, but he could not feel anything other than a sense of movement. It was as if his mind was disconnected from his body; the light was everything.

  Without warning, Jake was thrust back into his body as the surrounding light vibrated and shuddered. He felt as if it had hit some sort of resistance, like a rock skipping across water. Moments later, he felt a violent jerk and the light seemed to darken. Streaks of the darkest black appeared in the light and seemed to whirl around like a tornado. He could feel a coldness seeping into the light's warmth from those streaks. The light blazed brighter and pushed the black away. The sense of movement continued.

  The black came again, the violent collision stronger this time. Jake felt the jerking start again, this time rattling him to and fro in the light. The darkness crept back into the light. The light flared again, but this time it could not completely overcome the black. He had the sensation of being in the middle of a tug-a-war, with him the rope. The jerking became more violent, its pace quickening. Faster and faster, he was pushed and pulled, heat and cold lashing him, unable to do anything but yell silently.

  Suddenly, he could hear noises. He could hear the sizzling, crackling sounds as the light and dark collided. Faint fierce cries echoed as the black strove to overcome the light. The jerking kept increasing; shaking him with such force that he was sure his bones would break. He felt trapped and helpless, unable to do anything. The violence peaked, noise and movement overwhelming his senses. He was striving to stay conscious amid the chaos when the light seemed to explode and everything went dark.

  …

  Jake slowly regained consciousness. He became aware that he was lying on his back, a warm light on his face, cool air moving softly against his skin. He opened his eyes, blinking against the sudden light. He could see the light brown branches of trees above him, with sunlight filtering though the gaps in the green leaves. He moved to roll over and felt his bruised ribs scream at him. He gingerly got to his side and gently pushed himself into a sitting position.

  At first, he thought he had been dreaming and somehow moved under the trees in the Black Hole Woods, but as his mind gained clarity, he realized that this was more of a forest than a grove of trees. The dark loamy ground, with its rich earthy smell, was different from the soil in the Woods. He was sitt
ing in a small patch of cleared ground, but near the base of the trees, there were random green clumps of plants providing ground cover. The trees, with their light brown bark and overarching canopy of green leaves, were more densely packed than in the Woods. He could hear the sounds of birds as they moved around the top branches.

  "What the hell happened and how did I get here?" Jake muttered out loud. "Where is here, anyway?" He slowly stood up, turning in a circle, looking for something familiar. Nothing was right. He grabbed his phone, hoping he could call for help, but he saw it had no signal. He tried the GPS app, but it also had no signal. That could just be because of interference from the trees, he tried to tell himself. Fear began to worm its way into his mind. He was confused, lost and with no way to contact his family or friends.

  He began to panic slightly. He yelled "Help!" as loudly as he could, causing the cut on his lip to reopen and trickle blood again. He waited a few seconds and yelled again. Frustrated and growing more frightened, he yelled over and over, hoping that there was someone, anyone, near to help him. His voice echoed through the forest, but he got no reply.

  He finally stopped, his voice becoming raw, fear rising in his chest. His breath began to whistle as it blew in and out in a shallow, rapid pattern. His body began to tremble, sweat burst from his pores and he suddenly felt light-headed. Concerned he may pass out, he sat back down, bringing his knees up near his chest. Wrapping his arms around his legs, he put his forehead on his knees, closed his eyes and tried to calm down. He felt tears start to leak from the corners of his eyes and he moved his head side-to-side, wiping them on his sweatpants. The pressure generated pain in his swollen eye, but he ignored it. He was lost, really lost, alone and he was now sure he would never see his family or friends again. A sob escaped from him; the urge to weep threatened to overwhelm him.

  As he teetered on the edge of full-blown panic, his father's voice suddenly came into his mind. It was his warning to Jake when they had first gone camping. "Jake,..." his father had said "...if you ever find yourself lost, the worst thing you can do is panic. Panic kills because it makes you do rash things. You must stay calm, even if you don't think you can. Take the time to assess your situation and develop a plan. That is how you will survive." Clinging to his father's words like a lifeline, Jake tried to slow his breathing and clear his racing mind, desperately willing himself to relax.

  After several minutes of effort, he had succeeded for the most part. He was still frightened, but he brought his breath back under control and his thoughts calmed. Once he felt secure enough, he stood back up.

  To put the nervous energy that had built up in his system to use, he decided to explore the area he was in. He glanced up at the sun and believed that it was about mid-day. He slowly walked around the clearing, looking for the way he was brought here, hoping he could follow it back out. He was surprised to find no trace of any tracks coming into the clearing. The only tracks he found were his own shoeprints. After circling the clearing a couple of times, he stopped next to a tree, leaning against it, to think. He could not understand how he got here; it was as if he dropped from the sky. After a moment or two, he determined that there were no clues to be found on how he got here. Because he was so unsure of his location, he realized that he would have to assume that the likelihood of rescue was non-existent. He needed a plan on what to do next.

  He knew that he could not just stay here. There was no water or real shelter and this was clearly not a traveled area. Not knowing where he was, he felt the best course of action was to pick a direction and start walking, marching in a straight line so he could come back here if needed. If he found a break in the trees, he would try his phone or GPS again. He would continue to do this until he was able to make contact with someone or found civilization. Hopefully, he would come across some water as well. Now regretting that he had not eaten before he left the house, he knew that he could go without food for several days, but he would need water soon. He just needed to decide on a direction.

  From the position of the sun through the trees, he was able to determine what he believed to be north, south, east and west. After some thought, he decided that a westerly direction would be the easiest to track since he could simply follow the sun. As a precaution, he set up some sticks in a pattern next to the tree to act as a marker if he had to come back. He shut off his phone to conserve the battery, took a deep breath to gather his courage and started walking.

  Jake felt better as he started moving, feeling fairly confident in his plan. It was easy going from the start as the forest floor was fairly level with light undergrowth. The air was cool under the trees, but not cold. He glanced back from time to time to make sure he was moving in a straight line. To keep his mind clear, he kept a silent step count and stopped to set up small markers every hundred paces or so. As he traveled, he tried to notice any distinctive terrain feature that could help him find his way back, but all he saw were trees.

  After traveling like this for an hour or so, the movement was causing his ribs to bother him. He decided to take a break, so he sat down and leaned back against a tree. He closed his eyes, taking some deep breaths to try to relax his body and relieve the discomfort in his ribs.

  He was sitting there quietly when he heard the very faint sound of running water. He quickly stood up, listening intently. He closed his eyes again and concentrated, trying to use his hearing to determine from what direction it was coming, moving his body to face the sound. After several moments, he felt he knew the direction, but had no clue about the distance. When he opened his eyes, he was facing north.

  Jake immediately saw a problem. The ground seemed to rise gently in that direction and the forest looked thicker. His plan called for a straight-line march away from the clearing to keep his bearings. He could set up a marker here and try to keep a straight line, but if he got off track in the rougher terrain, he might never find it again.

  After several moments of indecision, he shook off his doubts and decided that it was worth the risk if he could find water. Also, there was likely open sky above the water, so he could try his GPS again. Not only that, he would probably be better off following the waterway unless the terrain was too rough. Generally, where there was water, eventually there would be people. The more he thought about it, the more excited he got about the prospect; maybe he could get out of this quickly.

  He made a marker at the base of the tree, just in case. Trying to ignore the dull throbbing in his side, he took off in the direction of the water. Because the forest floor was still relatively level with few obstacles, he made good time for the first twenty minutes or so. His pace began to drop off as the ground began to incline up and more obstacles of fallen trees and rocks appeared. He attempted to keep on his straight line, but that soon proved to be impossible in this terrain. He kept his same general direction, but he knew that backtracking to the clearing was unlikely at best now.

  While that troubled him, he was motivated to keep going by the growing sound of running water. As he made his way through the rocks and trees, he could almost see in his mind's eye what the river would look like. He was sure it was a river now, since the sound was of water crashing over rapids. As the slope of his path grew steeper, the trees began to thin out, allowing more sunlight to reach down to the rocks, warming the air. He navigated through a dense tangle of fallen trees and bushes, ducking and crawling over dried logs and branches, and found himself abruptly at the tree line. Open rocky ground spread out in front of him, steeply rising to form a ridgeline, clear blue sky above the edge. The river sounded as if it was just over the top.

  He pulled out his cell phone and powered it up. He waited and soon the phone indicated that no signal was available. He tried the GPS and got the same result. He cautiously moved towards the river, trying his GPS every couple of minutes or so. He felt fear and worry worm into his mind again as he could not get any satellites, not even one. That shouldn't happen, he knew. Almost the entire surface of the Earth was covered by the GPS syste
m. Realizing that he was just wasting his battery and doing himself no good, Jake turned off his phone and picked up his pace towards the river.

  As he reached the top of the ridge, he saw the river spread out before him. It was at the bottom of the rocky slope, probably seventy to eighty feet wide, fast moving and frothing white as it rushed over the hidden rocks in its stream. He could see the rocky slope on the far bank was much like this one. It rose away from the river and Jake could see the tops of some large trees peaking over the far ridge.

  The top of the ridge also gave Jake a better view of his surroundings. As he slowly turned and his gaze swept over the horizon, he saw that to the east was a range of mountains standing in sharp contrast to the blue sky, rising high into the air, the snow covered peaks giving way to dark forests along the base. He guessed that this river flowed down from those mountains. As he looked back the way he came, he could see that the forest he was in stretched far to the southern horizon while its trees covered rolling hills to the east that reached the mountains. Its western edge gradually sloped down into what looked like a large green plain. With trees clearly viable on the other side of the river, the river cut the forest in half, as if an impossibly large axe had landed here.

  Jake, thirsty and sweating from his efforts, moved down over the gray rocks, their color washed out by the bright sun, and made his way next to the river. Stopping at a large rock next to the roaring river, he carefully removed his sweatshirt, wrapping it around his phone and setting it atop the rock. He looked for a place where he could drink and saw a small area between a group of rocks where a backflow from the fast moving current was gently swirling. Kneeling, he bent over the slowly flowing water and scooped up some water with his hand. It was cold, but not bitterly so.

  While he remembered the lesson from his camping trips about not drinking river water without boiling it first, that option was clearly not available to him. So, he brought the water to his mouth and drank. The cold stung his injured lip as the water passed over it and he tasted the faint iron from his blood mixed in. However, he continued to drink, filling his stomach.

 

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