Gone (Parallel Trilogy, Book 1) (4 page)

Pitch black. That was the phrase that came to mind. I had heard it before but I had never truly experienced it. The complete lack of light horrified me. It was much worse than when I had entered the hut the night before. Then, there had been enough moonlight trickling in through the windows for me to see outlines of objects. I had thought it was unnervingly dark then, but it was nothing compared to this.

This darkness suffocated me, surrounded me, paralyzed me. I froze in place, and my imagination took over. Creepy crawly things were coming out of the earth-covered walls even now, sensing my fear, sensing my vulnerability. Dreadful creatures with long fangs and sharp claws that only lived in dark places were marching steadily toward me in packs, ready to tear me apart.

Pure, cold terror placed its hand on my scalp and worked its way through my body, chilling me to the bone. My heart pounded so hard I knew in a moment it would come right out of my chest and I would drop dead.

I hoped it would happen quickly.

Then I remembered that the spider, which I
knew
existed, was hanging right in front of me. Even now it could be making its way across the ceiling to climb directly into my hair. I could practically feel it creeping down the back of my shirt and onto my skin. Revulsion pulsed through me and I shuddered violently.

Realizing the best way to avoid the spider would be to get low, and fast, I dropped to the floor on all fours. Mildly surprised that bugs didn’t immediately swarm up my arms, I decided to see if I could find the fallen lantern.

My eyes were open, but the dark was so complete they felt like they were not only closed, but covered with a wide black cloth tied tightly around my head. I opened them wider, but that made no difference.

Trying to ignore the feeling of complete and utter helplessness, I swept my hands from side to side, trying to find the lantern and praying that I wouldn’t touch anything living. Inching forward, I continued to search. Finally my fingers touched the hot glass of the lantern and I jerked my hand away. Relief washed over me in great waves.

Sitting back on my heels, I tore the backpack off of my shoulders and felt the side pockets until I found the place where I had put the matches. Grasping the small box as if it were my lifeline, I set the backpack down, then held the box of matches right in front of my eyes. But I couldn’t see it. Not even a hint of it. But I could smell it. A slight sulfur smell emanated from the box from when I had scraped the match across the striking surface.

I slid open the box and heard the sound of matches falling to the ground.

“Crap,” I muttered. The box had been upside down.

Massaging my forehead where an ache was beginning, I sighed. I began using the sides of my hands to gather the matches when an idea occurred to me.

I picked up one of the matches from the ground with one hand, and with the other I held the matchbox. Dragging the match across the striking surface, I held my breath, anticipating the bright light of fire. But nothing happened. I tried again, and a third time. Finally, on the fourth attempt, the tip of the match bloomed into flame.

The immediate area around me lit up and I grinned, feeling like I had just invented light. Not wanting to waste any of the short life of the match, I picked up the lantern by the handle and examined it. The glass was intact but the fragile mantle inside had disintegrated.

The lantern was useless.

“Ow!” I dropped the match as the flame reached my fingers and I was again plunged into darkness.

Fresh despair wrapped around me like a blanket. I had no idea how much farther I would need to walk before I reached the end of this tunnel. And what if when I reached it, it was a dead-end? Then what?

Or I could go back the way I had come. I knew what I would find when I reached the hut. But it was another type of dead-end and I would have no way to get out of that trap.

I decided to take my chances and continue on. I could use the matches to light my way and hope that they would hold out until I reached the end. I would have to move as quickly as possible.

Though I hated using another match, I decided it would be worthwhile to be able to see well enough to collect every match that had fallen out of the box. After lighting a second match, I quickly picked up the spilled matches and placed them securely in the box, then placed the box in my front pocket.

Dropping the used-up match, I felt around for my backpack, slung it onto my shoulders, and stood. I took the box of matches out of my pocket, but this time when I opened it I did it slowly and made sure the box was right-side up before opening it enough to pull out a match. I lit a match then tucked the box in my pocket. Cupping my hand around the flame, I moved forward swiftly, trying to keep the flame from blowing out while forcing myself to ignore the possible presence of spiders.

It didn’t take long for the flame to go out. I struck another match and continued on, using this method to make good progress. When I was down to three matches I began to worry, but with no other options, I pressed forward. As I lit the second to last match I noticed the floor beginning to slope upward. Hope surged through me and I began to walk even faster, but the additional speed brought too much air flow and the match blew out before it had completely burned down.

I dropped the match and pulled out the last one, not allowing myself to think past the moment, and lit the tiny stick. Slowing my pace enough to keep the flame going, I kept walking until the flame burned my finger.

“Ouch!” I shook my finger, ignoring the sting of the burn, then closed my eyes, hoping that I could somehow adjust to the darkness. After a moment I opened my eyes again and was shocked that I could see a little bit.

Had my eyes gotten used to the dark? Or was I nearing the end and a way out?

Frantic to get out of this dungeon-like place, I ran, no longer constrained by the need to keep a match burning. As I moved forward, I noticed I was able to see better and better.

Suddenly I saw daylight. I had reached the end.

Elated, I rushed forward but stopped short when the bright sunlight hit my eyes. Squinting, I shaded my eyes. I was thrilled to be outside again and never wanted to go inside that tunnel again. After a moment I had adjusted to the brilliance of the sun and removed my hand from my eyes.

Now that my fears had melted away, I realized that my throat was very dry. I shrugged off my backpack and pulled out my nearly empty water bottle. Trying to ration what little water I had, I took a few sips, then screwed the lid back on and set the bottle back in the pack. Though I was famished, I decided to wait on eating either of the two remaining granola bars, afraid that would make me thirsty again.

There was no snow here, though the ground was damp, and I wondered how far from my original location I had come. At the hut the snow had appeared to be at least a foot deep. But here, birds chirped in the trees overhead and the branches seemed to whisper as a gentle breeze ruffled the pine needles.

I looked around, trying to find something familiar. Nothing was and I knew I was hopelessly lost. Trying to suppress the growing panic that tightened my chest, I inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly, loosening the fear and helping me to take a moment and think.

The walking path has to be around here somewhere, I thought. All I need to do is find it, then I’ll be home free.

I studied the bushes and trees surrounding me, looking for something that resembled a trail.

This place must be pretty abandoned, I thought, because nothing looks like a trail to me.

Snugging the backpack tighter to my shoulders, I set off in a direction I hoped would lead me to the path. As I trudged through the muddy forest my feet became heavier as the mud became a thick cake on my shoes. I stopped and looked around for a strong twig so that I could scrape off some of the muck. I quickly found a stick that would do the job.

My shoulders had begun to ache and I was feeling quite warm, so I set my backpack on the slimy ground and took off my coat. After stuffing it inside my backpack, I used the stick I had found and scraped off as much mud from my shoes as I could.

Satisfied, I tossed the stick, then reached into my backpack to get the water bottle. The first thing I touched was the rectangular shape of the granola bar I had ignored earlier. My stomach rumbled at the thought of eating it and I decided now was as good a time as any. After devouring the snack, I pulled the water bottle out and shook it, hoping that somehow that would increase the volume. The sound of the water splashing up the sides of the bottle only increased my thirst.

I remembered learning somewhere that if you’re thirsty, dehydration has already set in. Then I remembered something more ominous. People had been found in the desert, dead, with a half-full water bottle right next to them. Apparently they had tried to save the water for later, but had died of thirst before later ever came.

I unscrewed the lid and drank the remaining contents of the bottle, knowing that if I was to die out here, at least no one could laugh at me and say I had been stupid enough to not drink my water when I was thirsty.

Tucking the water bottle in my backpack, hopeful I would come across a water source and be able to fill it up, I continued my hike. It felt like it had been an hour since I’d left the tunnel, but I still didn’t feel like I was any closer to the path.

After a while I stopped to rest. A fallen log lay nearby and I sat on it, grateful to be off my feet. I removed my pack and leaned it against the log, then took in my surroundings. To my right was the way I had just come. Where the groundcover wasn’t too thick and the earth had become muddy, I saw my footprints, but where it was dry there was no sign I had come that way. In front of me a group of tree trunks leaned against each other. They reminded me of the teepee my father had built for my younger brothers in the backyard. To my left, the brush looked thicker than the way I had come. But behind me was no better, so I decided to push on and see where I ended up.

Hauling my backpack onto my shoulders, I stood still for a moment as a thought occurred to me. Though I had absolutely no sense of direction, I felt like I had been walking in a straight line all this time, but I wondered if I should have turned at some point. Maybe I’d walked near the path, but had just missed it.

Frustrated and hungry, I decided to go in the direction that had been at my back. I climbed over the log where I had been resting and squeezed through a pair of bushes that were in the way. Thick brush was everywhere. I felt tired just looking at what lay ahead, but I had no reason to go any other direction.

With the need to find the easiest path through the underbrush, I found myself zigging and zagging all over the place. I knew I wasn’t going in a very straight line, but kept going anyway, grateful I wouldn’t need to find my way back to the hut where I had spent the night, because the chances of me finding it were slim.

More than ever, I regretted running away and knew I would never do it again. It just wasn’t worth it. Mom and Dad might be worried, but I was the one suffering the most. Hungry. Thirsty. Sweating in the cool air. Tromping through the muddy forest. Yes, I was definitely the one suffering the most for my stupid, impulsive act.

“Yes, Mom. I was impulsive,” I shouted as I flung my arms in the air. “I promise I’m going to stop being impulsive, okay?”

Several birds flew out of the trees in alarm at my promise. Did that mean they didn’t believe me? Or maybe I was just being too loud again.

“I’ll try not to be so loud either,” I whispered, then laughed. I knew that would never happen.

I was so busy talking to myself that at first I didn’t notice that the trees and underbrush had thinned out. Hurrying forward, I scanned the ground in all directions, looking for any hint of the path. I lifted my gaze from the ground and stopped dead in my tracks, shocked at what I saw through the trees.

Chapter Four

The last thing I had expected to see. My house. Well, the back of my house. But there it was. It was all I could do to keep from racing to the back door, but then I realized my legs were too tired to run anyway.

The grin on my face made my dry lips crack, but I didn’t care. I was home. Relief washed over me in waves as I rushed forward. As I reached the back gate I was a bit surprised that Goldie hadn’t met me there. Usually the first to announce anyone’s arrival, we often had to hold her back to keep her from leaping all over people who dared to get too close.

I unlatched the gate and walked toward the door that led into the kitchen. I wondered how everyone would react when I arrived. Would they be happy to see me or furious that I had made them worry?

Suddenly nervous, I took the last step to the door, reaching for the knob. I took a deep breath, then released it before twisting the knob in my hand. It opened easily. Hesitating now, I slowly pushed it open, expecting to see Mom there to greet me. Of course if she had been in the kitchen this whole time she would have seen me coming.

A quick glance into the room verified it was empty. Overwhelmed by sudden thirst, I dropped my backpack on the floor before dashing to the sink. Not even bothering to grab a glass, I tilted my head under the faucet and turned on the tap. Ice cold water rushed into my mouth and I greedily swallowed it. My thirst slaked, I turned off the faucet and reached for the pantry door, ravenous.

The food choices were different than what I remembered seeing the last time I’d raided the pantry. I knew Mom sometimes went on health food kicks and bought only healthy foods, but finding only dried fruits, low-fat crackers, and not one box of cookies on the shelves was disappointing. I was too hungry to complain and ripped open a package of crackers, stuffing them in my mouth.

Even though they were low-fat and low-sodium, they made me thirsty, but this time I decided to use a glass. I opened the cupboard and saw new glasses. Pulling one out, I admired the sparkling clarity and wondered when Mom had gotten them. Maybe she’d had them at dinner the night before, but of course I’d missed that meal when I’d run away.