Bloodline (The Forgotten Origins Trilogy) (3 page)

“Shou
ld we bring some sandwiches?” he asks, always thinking about food like any ten-year-old boy should.  I consider his question and the time.  It’s almost nine, and we’ve got a good half hour hike each way plus we like to take our time.  Figure at least two hours in the creek and we’re definitely going to be getting hungry.

“Hold on,” I tell him and disappear back inside.  A short time later we’re on our way
with a backpack full of water, sandwiches, and power bars.

The trail
from our backyard is small but well worn and we follow it silently.  The sun is filtered through the trees, creating patterns across our arms and backs, warming the morning air enough to remove the chill.  The heat has reached the ground today and the smell of warm pine needles surrounds us.  I love days like this and never get tired of the scenery.  It’s timeless here in the woods, and always alive with animal sounds and whispers of wind in the trees.

I pause, tilting my head.  That sounded like more than wind. Jacob and Baxter quickly disappear ahead of me, around the next bend. 

We have just left the mix of green leafy trees that line the edge of the forest; mostly cottonwood, birch and maple.  I am now in the middle of massive pines and cedars, the lowest branches above my head.  I step off the path and onto the bed of needles, looking back to where I think I heard the voices.  The thick leaves of the birch and cottonwood obscure my view behind us, but I’m not hearing anything now.  Perhaps it
was
the wind.  Turning to go, I step back onto the tramped down dirt created by years of use.

“
Alexandria…..”

I spin back around, certain
I heard someone.  “Who’s there?” I demand, scanning the trees again.  Nothing.

“Alex!  Hurry up!”  This time the voice is ahead of me, and undeniably belongs to Jacob.  Baxter comes bounding towards me, and I kneel down to pat his head.

“Hey buddy.”  Taking a hold of his furry face, I look him in the eyes.  “Is there anyone out there?  Do you hear anything?”  Cocking his head to one side he gives me a quizzical look.  Pulling away from my grasp, he stares intently at the thick foliage down the trail, even sniffing the air.  Chuffing, he turns his deep brown eyes back to mine and licks me on the nose.  His decision final, he runs back the way he came and I get up to follow him.

Baxter is a smart dog.  If
he doesn’t feel threatened, then I shouldn’t either.  “Coming Jacob!”  Trotting to catch up, I resist the urge to look back again.  There is nothing there except my imagination.  Today
is
going to be a good day.

Once at the creek, with our feet in the water and poles loaded with stinky fish bait, I feel better.  We call it a creek because half the year it isn’t very big, but the other half it’s more like a river.  The melting snow and rain from the mountains above feed into it, so it’s always icy cold.

Our favorite fishing hole is an amazing place that
’s also our best kept secret.  We’ve never encountered anyone else here and it’s as if it were made especially for us.  Created by thousands of years of running water, the carved out rocks make a bowl about twenty feet wide and up to ten feet deep.  It’s fed by a small waterfall and has just enough logs caught up in it to make the fish feel safe.  Along one side moss covered stones provide the perfect place to sit and are warmed by sunlight when the sun is directly overhead on days like this.

We’ve been at it for over an hour already without any bites and are debating if we should try digging for some fresh worms.  I decide to stay put while Jacob starts scrapping at the dirt with a rock.  Baxter catches on quickly and aggressively dig
s his own hole nearby.

“I called Brent while you were getting ready,” Jacob informs me, while holding out a small worm.
  Taking it from him, I put it on his hook and hand the rod back.

“Oh.  So why isn’t he fishing with us?”  Brent is Jacobs best friend.  They’ve been hanging out pretty much every day for over a year now, since he moved to our neighborhood.  I assume he called to invite him fishing.  Both of his parents work on the weekends
, so he can usually come over.  Better than being home alone.

“He’s sick.  So are his parents.”

“Well that’s too bad.”  I look over at him when the silence draws out, like he’s expecting me to say something more.  I find him staring at me.  “What?”

“They were all there last night.”  Again, he looks at me with his dark Egyptian eyes, like that’s supposed to mean something.

“At the park?  I didn’t see them.  They must have gotten there after we did.”  A small butterfly floats through the air between us, and I’m momentarily distracted by the bright colors of it wings.  Refocusing on Jacob, I can see that he really seems concerned about something.  “So what?  Are you upset Brent didn’t find you?”

Clearly
frustrated with me, he shakes his head.  “They were
all
there last night, Alex.  Them, Mom…and Scott.  Brent said that he’s sick too.  Don’t you think that’s
weird?
”  Scott was another friend from school that he hung out with.

“Okay, so they all got the same cold.  That happens.  You and I were there last night and we’re fine.  Oh!  You got something!”  His line has gone tight, pulling the rod down towards the water.  Reacting on instinct, Jacob yanks it straight up, setting the hook.  With a few turns of the spool, he pulls a trout close to 2 lbs from the clear water.

Laughing, I quickly scoop up some water in our big bucket that we always bring.  Jacob expertly frees the fish from the hook and drops it in.  Dad taught us the trick of keeping them alive until we get home.  They taste better that way, or at least,
we
think so.

“So worms it is!  Get to work Baxter, we need more.”  Baxter barks back
at me excitedly and then resumes digging in the hole he had been creating.

Jacob smiles, seeming to relax again.  “I guess you’re right Alex
.  I dunno, maybe it’s because I don’t like it when Mom’s sick.”

Pulling him
to me, I give him a quick hug over the fish bucket.  I understand his fear.  Looking into his eyes, I ruffle his thick, dark hair the way I used to when he was smaller.  “She’ll be fine Jacob.  We’ll take good care of her.  Tonight she eats trout!”

After breaking out our sandwiches, we spend another two hours fishing before calling it quits.  By the time we head home, we have three nice sized fish.  I plan on cooking two of them and sticking the third one in the freezer.  I’ll give it to Mr. Jones
the next time we go to the store.

The trip back is uneventful and I turn on the gas BBQ to pre-heat before heading inside.  I find Mom sound asleep
and figure it’s best to let her rest.  On my way back out I grab a good filet knife, some tin foil, butter and a lemon.  I may not be much of a chef, but I know how to cook a fish.

Jacob has taken care of the unpleasant business of killing them, so I agree to do the rest.  By the time I have them wrapped up in foil and cooking, it’s well past three.  It’ll be an early dinner, but that’s okay.  I’m already hungry and if I am, than I know for sure Jacob will be.

Within a few minutes the smell has my mouth watering and I realize we’ll need something else to go with it.  Heading back inside, I search through the canned veggies and come up with creamed corn.  Some frozen Texas toast should round it all out nicely.  After heating it all up, I go back out to get the fish.  It doesn’t take long to cook.

I think about it for a minute
and then decide to set the table.  Mom has really been emphasizing this lately.  Several nights out of the week she doesn’t get home until late, so Jacob and I have gotten into the habit of eating in front of the big television in the family room.  On nights that she is home though, she makes a point of setting the nice kitchen nook that takes up a corner of our large country style kitchen.  I don’t know if she’ll be up to eating with us, but I know it would make her happy.

On my way down the hall to get J
acob, I look in on her again.  She’s still asleep and I can see her chest rise and fall in a nice, steady rhythm.  It’s pretty stuffy in her room, but I’m afraid that if I open the window she might get too much of a draft.  She looks comfortable enough, so I’ll leave her alone.

After stuffing ourselves, we put the dishes in the sink for later and Jacob disappears outside with Baxter.  Mom’s still snoring away so I go back to my room and catch up with Missy on our day. 

According to her, biking is for dorks and she would have much rather been fishing.  Her younger sister still has training wheels on her bike, so she spent the whole time going in circles waiting for her to catch up.  I laugh at how she describes it all.  I’m able to picture exactly how she would look when saying it.  Missy has always made me laugh.  She has a way of knowing just what to say.  I tell her about our big catch and my gourmet meal, wishing I had my best friend there to share it with.  After several more exclamation marks and smiley’s, we say goodbye. 

Her dad has promised to get a new laptop this next week and we’re both looking forward to being able to
video chat.  Her old one has had a broken camera for months now.  Looking at my own computer, I decide to check out what’s new before crashing in front of the TV.

It would appear that nothing fell into that one woman’s pool, at least certainly not a meteorite.  The scientists are still trying to locate the crash site, based on radar and satellite images, but they don’t sound too optimistic.  Tired of the news, I switch over to
my social media account. 

I’m not exactly what you would call a social butterfly, but since I’ve grown up in this town I do know a lot of people.  I’m a junior this year and play on the school soccer team and write for the High School paper so my inner circle of friends tend to stem from those two groups.  Although my friend list is a little over two hundred, I only talk regularly with or follow
around twenty.  Even so, the amount of them posting about how sick they are is alarming.  My apprehension grows when I figure out that most of them were in the park last night. I actually count the status updates…ten.  I remember seeing at least seven of them there. It suddenly gets a little harder to breath.

I take a deep breath and sit back in my chair.  Stupid.  I’m being stupid.  We’re all friends and go to
the same school.  We ride the bus and eat lunch together.  It would make sense that several of us would come down with the same cold.  But it was literally within hours of each other. A few of them said they were sick before going to bed and the rest had it when they woke up this morning. This was just strange.  Frustrated at my own conflicting thoughts, I shut my computer down.

It’s not even six yet, but I
still want to put on my comfy pajamas.  I’m thinking it’s going to be a popcorn and movie kinda night.  Grabbing a big blanket off the foot of my bed, I decide to give in to it and go all out.

I stop again at Mom’s door and see that she’s sitting up, the fading light of the day reaching her on the bed.  “Hey Mom, how are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.  A very big truck.”  Searching around on the bed for a moment, she comes up with a remote and turns on the TV.  A horrible coughing fit grabs hold of her and I cringe at the sound.  I can’t remember ever seeing her this way before.  “Alex,” she says, finally able to catch her breath.  “Would you please close the blinds for me?  That light is killing my eyes.”

Crossing the room silently, I do as she asks and then sit down next to her.  “Are you alright?  Want me to call someone?”

Smiling, she takes my hand and shakes her head.  “No, it’s just the flu.  I’ve seen this so many times at work, but I guess I’ve never had it full blown before.  I’ll be miserable for awhile, but I’ve always been healthy so I think I’ll be okay.  I promise to let you know if I need a doctor.   Thanks for entertaining your brother. I’m sure he had a good time fishing. “

Feeling a bit reassured, I try to smile
back at her and then remember that I saved her some dinner.  “We managed to catch a few trout today!  I put some in the fridge for you. I can heat it up.”

Wrinkling up her nose at the thought
, she shakes her head.  “I can’t really stomach the idea of eating much more than crackers right now.  Can you get some for me, and maybe a soda and more Advil?”

I
manage to find everything requested and even locate another box of tissue and some cold medicine.  I reposition the pile of pillows behind her and turn on a small nightstand lamp instead of the brighter overhead one. 

“I’d give you a kiss right now, but you seriously don’t
want this,” she says, taking a swallow of medicine.  “In fact, you should go wash your hands.  That’s the best way to avoid getting it.”

“Get what Mom?”  We both turn to look at Jacob standing in the doorway with Baxter.

“Oh it’s only a flu bug Jacob.  It isn’t anything to worry about. I’ll be back to normal before you know it!  Now come give me a quick hug before I go back to sleep.”

He crosses the room hesitantly,
as if he’s afraid she’s lying.  Once he gets close enough to see her better in the dim light, he seems more convinced and jumps onto the bed, throwing his arms around her.  “Please get better,” he begs, his voice muffled in her blonde hair.  Looking at me over the top of his head, the love and concern for him in her eyes is obvious.

Patting him, she then gently pulls his arms from around her neck.  “Of course I’ll get better.  I love you bug.”  Shooing him off the bed, she swats him on the behind.   “Now go wash your hands so you don’t get sick too.”

Satisfied for the moment, he smiles and dodges beyond her reach.  I realize then that Baxter is absent, which is odd, because he never misses an opportunity to snuggle on a bed.  Looking back I see that he is still in the doorway, quivering.  I give him a questioning look and he whines at me in response.  Before I can call him, Jacob is running through the doorway and Baxter quickly follows.

Not seeming to notice the exchange, Mom tells me goodnight and reminds me again to go wash my hands.  After making sure I can’t get her anything else, I follow her instructions.

Back in the family room I find Jacob and Baxter already on the couch.  They’re all wrapped up in the blanket that I dropped earlier while getting moms stuff.  Jacob is busy trying to find a movie to watch, so I plop down next to Baxter, planning to finish our conversation.  He looks at me boldly, in a way that only an intelligent dog will.

“W
hat was that all about buddy?” I ask quietly, stroking his head.  Looking intently at me for a moment, he then leans forward and softly touches his nose against my forehead.  Folding his paws in my lap, he places his head on top of them and sighs.  It wasn’t like I expected him to answer me, but for some reason that I can’t explain, I believe he just did.  I don’t know what he’s trying to tell me, but that feeling of danger I had last night is suddenly back with a vengeance.  As darkness starts to press in against the windows, the three of us huddle together under the blanket.