As soon as the sun signaled the start of the day, Ashar found a Coney Island for a quick breakfast before finding the highway again and taking it south toward Virginia.
With no specific destination in mind, Ashar watched the road signs for state attractions that seemed interesting, waiting for a revelation that seemed to speak of his future.
He went off his southern course to investigate the Lost World Caverns in Lewisburg, WV, finding the stalactites and stalagmites beautiful, haunting, and awe-inspiring, well worth the twelve dollars he handed over to see them.
They made him think about everything waiting for him to experience, to explore. That such beauty existed spoke to his soul, made him want to know more about what else was out there, creations placed on earth to strum chords in the human heart.
Things he had only read about in books came alive and, deep in his heart, the complexity of nature, the angles and curves, the colors, the magnitude of it all took root, making him want to see more.
The problems of his past felt far away as he stood within the cavern. The complexity of the walls that still stood, despite the forces of nature, inspired him. Proudly, the scars showcasing beauty instead of pain told him that he could go on without fear. That he could use his past to guide his decisions, but he could not let it define him.
Driving through Virginia into North Carolina, Ashar saw a sign for the Cherokee National Forest boasting spectacular views, nature trails, and peaceful places to enjoy life. Yearning for exactly what the sign promised, Ashar followed the tourist signs to a park office to purchase a recreation pass.
He had enjoyed every moment in the caves, but he had been happy to leave the confines of the beautiful walls and step out again into open air.
The forests canopy of trees beckoned to him as he started down the first trail, and the rising peaks of the mountains in the distance made him feel protected and welcomed. Staring at the majestic display before the trees shielded it from his view, Ashar felt like a chain fell away from his heart and he could breathe fully again. The air was warm and scented with pine. The song of the birds and the whisper of the wind floated around him and made him want to stay forever. Here was home.
Ashar rose up on his toes, a smile spreading over his face. He headed further down the path, unable to stop smiling as foliage enveloped him. Towering bark and fluttering leaves rose high, tangles of bushes and twigs and plant life spread over the ground, the stunning views the paths led to calmed him, and the whispering quiet of the leaves spoke deep into his soul.
Ashar felt like his breathless prayers of thanks traveled straight to heaven, even though he knew all of his prayers made it to heaven the same way. He felt like God Himself was wrapping His arms around him and welcoming him home.
This place was freedom. No constraints. No pain. Ashar let it all consume him until hunger loudly broke through his enjoyment. He hadn’t thought to bring water or food with him.
Stupid, he realized, as he followed the signs leading him back to the visitor center to purchase snacks and water. He leaned against his car to eat and study the horizon. He wanted to stay in the forest, but knew that wasn’t feasible. One couldn’t just live in the forest. He had to be practical, think about things like food and water and money.
With his jacket pockets filled with extra snacks and a couple of water bottles, Ashar spent the rest of the afternoon in the forest, exploring different paths, finally making his way back to his car when dusk settled over the curtain of trees.
He pulled his car to a far part of the lot and climbed into the back seat to sleep, covering himself with the blanket he’d taken from his bed, tired but happy. The stars were like thousands of possibilities above him. He didn’t mind the cramped space tonight around his tall frame. He liked the loud chorus of tree frogs and crickets. He was alone, something he’d never cared for before, but near the forest, he didn’t feel alone.
Slipping his hand into his jacket pocket, he traced a finger over the spine of his bible. He stared up at the wide, unending night sky.
This was where he wanted to stay. He wanted to experience it. To live it.
“How am I going to do that?” Ashar asked himself. The frogs croaked their echoes. The crickets spoke to the night. He could work in the visitor center maybe. Be a tour guide. He rejected both ideas.
Unsure, he let possibilities whirl as sleep claimed him.
Chapter Three
Eitan frowned at the piece of paper in front of him. A simple note that could mean so many things.
He had forgotten about the boy. How, he wasn’t sure, considering the many times he had been in the presence of Alric and Eve. The memory had not connected.
Now, the magnitude of something profound was pushing from his spirit, a blip that he was trying to grasp. Eitan was having trouble focusing on the task at hand that he needed to deal with: finding the boy, Ashar. He was thinking about the bigger picture.
What did these mysterious bones mean? He was sure that there was a meaning. Eve alone was enough to make him consider possibilities that were outside of nature. She was unique in many ways. Nothing about the girl was simple or explainable.
Alric, from the beginning, had triggered a response in him, even before Eitan had understood that something about the scientist was different, before he had learned of the bones.
So now, adding in Ashar, there were three humans with bones that did not belong, and Ashar was now missing as well. Packed up and gone. His parents, of course, were furious. They had little concern for their son; their anger was over the loss of promised revenue the removal of his bone would have brought them.
Leaning back in his chair, Eitan narrowed his eyes, squinting at a picture on his wall of a black stallion rising on its back legs. There were other photos of horses on his walls, representations to him of the fight he lived every day within the walls of Xis.
The pictures grounded him whenever he felt the cold evil creeping deeper and deeper into his soul. He liked to imagine that someday he would find himself at peace, living a solitary life somewhere with a couple of horses.
Eitan closed his eyes and thought of being astride one, galloping over the terrain, the open air surrounding him without constraint. There would be fields of green before him instead of reinforced hallways and safe rooms.
With a sigh, Eitan sat up straight and tapped his data screen to life. He had no business dreaming of a life he would never have.
The boy needed to be found. Preferably before word made its way to Afion. The wrath that had been suffered after Alric had somehow escaped had been hard and brutal. Many had lost their lives. The seething simmer of anger still emanated.
Eitan sent the call for his producer and then stared silently at his screen, praying. He was glad Ashar had fled. Eitan had not known about the scheduled surgery for the removal of one of the bones. It sickened him. What did they think the bone would tell them?
Tapping keys, Eitan went through a series of security steps that opened a document that only he had access to. Those that had been involved in obtaining the data were dead, murdered because of their association with Alric.
It was for the better. Eitan wanted no one within Xis to see what the document contained. The pages told him exactly what Ashar’s bones would have eventually led those studying them to realize for themselves.
It was The David Profile.
Chapter Four
Ashar stared at the multitudes of tourist catalogs and attraction sites.
He already had a stack of brochures in one hand. He was reaching for another when a man near him tugged one free from the many slots on the wall and held it out to him.
“If ya like nature, this is the way to go. No schedules, no demands, nothing but you and the great outdoors. I love it,” the stranger declared.
The brochure being held out was for a self-guided backpacking trip and Ashar glanced from it to the man, noting he was unshaven and a little scruffy in general, his hair long and a bit wild. He even had a backpack
, complete with a bedroll secured at the bottom, just like the people on the pamphlet. “You’ve done this?” he asked.
Nodding, the man replied, “Did it. Now it’s my lifestyle. It’s what I do.”
Ashar still did not understand. “What do you mean… do?”
“Like, I’m a backpacker. All the time. I travel all over, just me and my pack. I sleep under the stars, eat fresh or freeze dried food, scavenge the earth for necessities, talk to strangers when I meet them. I live.” He tapped the palms of his hands against the straps resting against his chest as he finished speaking with gusto, and Ashar felt a tug deep inside, a yearning to know more, a pull of need that excited him and stirred him.
A puzzle piece began to connect to complete a picture. An answer.
“I was thinking about heading south to the Talladega forest,” Ashar said, holding up that particular pamphlet. He’d felt like going from one forest to another gave him a sense of purpose, a direction. He didn’t want to settle and limit himself to one place so soon. “I love it here in the Cherokee so far. It’s beautiful.”
The man lifted his hands and his eyebrows. “Great! Let’s go!” Excitement glinted in his eyes, and a smile transformed his face into a friendly, beckoning presence. His plaid shirt gaped over a t-shirt that read, ‘bear hug.’
He seemed friendly and sure of himself. Looking the man over more closely, from his worn boots and faded jeans to his shoulder-length messy wave of blonde hair and coarse beard, Ashar motioned between them, noting they were about the same height as well. “Uh… you mean, me and you?”
Nodding vigorously and sticking out his hand, the man agreed. “I’m Irv. I’ll teach ya everything ya need to know.”
Ash gripped Irv’s hand, eager already, although a little concerned that the man didn’t seem much older than himself and might not be completely reliable.
“I’m Ash. This is great, but what do I do with my car? Won’t I need that?” Lots of questions were formulating in his mind, too fast for him to process. He told himself he needed to be cautious, that trusting people hadn’t done him any good in the past.
Irv was taking catalogs and pamphlets out of Ash’s hands and putting them back. “Nope. Sell the car. Buy what ya need. Journey begins when ya shed the materialistic stuff people cling to.”
“Well, I don’t have much,” Ash responded, his now empty fingers seeking the thin patch of fabric at the hem of his jacket. “I’m already road-tripping to wherever. I just have what’s in my car, and the car itself.”
“Great,” Irv said. “Ya can tell me why that is while we’re headed to a camping supply store.”
Ash didn’t intend to tell him the truth. Not the whole truth, anyway. He did tell Irv as he drove that it had been a struggle growing up with his parents, that they hadn’t had his best interests at heart, and so when he’d turned eighteen, he’d decided it was time to leave home and make a life for himself.
Irv seemed content with his simple response and did not press for more. He was helpful in the supply store, making recommendations based on his own experiences, insisting that a sturdy pack, a good water filtration system, a sharp knife, layers of clothing, and a warm sleeping bag were really the only vital items you needed to survive.
Ash was happy to have an alternative to water bottles, as he’d already learned they were heavy, but still he purchased an insulated thermos to carry, and a few other things Irv didn’t think he would need.
He asked about a fire starter, but was assured that there were ways to start a fire the way God intended, using nothing but what nature provided. Ashar was glad to hear Irv mention God, but the timing was wrong to ask if Irv was just using a phrase as he started explaining the different things one could use to start a fire. Even after the explanation, Ashar added a flint to his growing stack of supplies.
Things were moving quickly, and he alternated between bursts of doubt at what he was doing and eruptions of excited anticipation. He was pretty sure he had lost his mind, trusting a man he did not know and choosing to follow him into a forest.
Intent on the fact that he was doing the choosing, and armed with a new backpack full of survival gear, Ashar and Irv next searched for a place to donate the clothes no longer deemed necessary, and then they would sell his car.
By the time night fell they were trekking up a trail with branches filtering the last rays of the sunset and, in the spreading quiet, Ash considered again whether his sudden lifestyle change was foolish. For all he knew, Irv was crazy, and he was following a serial killer to his death.
Except Irv seemed harmless. He had been full of information and chatter, and just seemed genuinely cheerful about having someone to talk to. No heavy topics had come up really, just generic ‘get-to-know-you’ talk, and explanations on the backpacking life.
It was exciting, if a bit frightening. Spending one night in the woods was different than adapting your entire lifestyle to living from it.
The basic plan they had agreed upon was to continue through the Cherokee forest toward the Appalachian Mountains, using the journey there as their training base for Ash.
“I’ve been a backpacker for almost six years,” Irv explained as they struck out. “I dropped out of college when I realized being taught by another person was never gonna be the same as learning it for real.”
“What were you going to college for?” Ashar shifted his pack. It was heavy, and he could tell he was going to get tired fast. He wondered how long Irv could go on before he would feel the same.
“Well, I wanted to be a geologist, but I don’t like politics or controversy, and the field was full of it. No thank you. I like things nice and calm and peaceful, and people bickering over stupid stuff just isn’t me, ya know?” Irv pointed to the right and veered off the path. “Ya gotta watch for stuff out here, Ash. Berries are everywhere, and there are lots of things ya can eat out here. Not all of them are tasty.”
Ashar followed Irv, not seeing the bush until Irv was peeling back a branch to reveal plump blackberries clustered amongst thin thorny boughs.
Irv gently released a handful of berries into his palm and popped them into his mouth, talking around the mouthful. “I took this one-week backpacking tour of the Grand Canyon on a spring break, and that was when I knew. I’m not one of those bros that can be happy with the whole traditional American dream thing.” Swinging his pack free, Irv unzipped it and dug around, removing a long, thin plastic container.
“This thing is magic. When ya come across gold, ya take it with ya.” Irv started removing more berries and carefully dropping them into the container. Ash, realizing he was being taught, slipped his own pack free to find the similar container Irv had insisted he needed.
“Ya gotta see what’s edible. Know what isn’t. These berries can save ya. Ya can even eat the roots and shoots if ya peel and cook them.” Irv laughed. “Roots and shoots,” he repeated, slapping Ashar on his upper arm.
Ash pulled back, his shoulders tightening, suddenly acutely aware of the bones on his back. Taking a step back, he screwed the top onto his container and shoved it into his pack before zipping it closed and sliding it back into place. He focused on the weight of the pack against his bones, and released a breath. There was no way Irv could see them through it, or inadvertently touch them if he made a habit of his offhand gesture of camaraderie. He would need to be careful when he took it off.
Irv didn’t seem to notice his withdrawal as they made their way back to the path. “There's other things ya can eat too, but I like the berries best. There’s chicory, look for purple flowers, if ya need a coffee fix ya can do a little work and make that happen too with chicory.”
Turning around and arching his brows at Ash, Irv smiled, his teeth pressed together and his eyes crinkling with the exaggerated movement. “Me and coffee aren’t such a good match. My mam used to say it was devil’s brew, especially when it was in me.”
Irv chattered on about other plants that could be eaten and the ones that looked good enough
to eat but that he didn’t recommend. Ashar was exhausted and grateful when Irv veered off the path and dropped his pack next to a large fallen tree, then stretched out on it like it was a hammock.
Ashar scouted the area and settled on a smaller limb to lean against that let him face Irv. He shifted his pack to his side and breathed deep, rolling his shoulders and neck. He drank greedily from his thermos and reveled in the silence that had fallen.
He had no idea what time it was, but sun filtered around them through the tree covering. His lips curved softly when a chipmunk raced through the ground foliage to their left. He spied a patch of mushrooms at the base of a tree. “I see some mushrooms! How do you know if they are safe ones?”
Irv turned his head and twisted to follow Ashar’s motioning arm. “Chicken of the woods, bro. Ya can eat those. Mushrooms, though,” he added as he stretched back out, “ya gotta be careful with those. All kinds of no-fun things can happen if ya eat the wrong ones, so ask me first before ya munch away.”
Ashar yawned and drank more water. “Where do you find water out here? I probably shouldn’t be drinking mine up.”
“Plenty out here. I like to try and camp for the night near a source, get the next day’s supply filtered and ready. Drink a lot at night, conserve during the day. No worries, bro.”
Getting the impression that Irv didn’t intend to move on quickly, Ashar shifted some twigs and brush from beneath him to get more comfortable, and closed his eyes. He liked the sounds the birds made and the soft ruffling of the leaves.
The doubt over his choice faded. It felt good to be tired from exercise and not from doing nothing. He knew he was at home out in the wild, where no walls closed him in and threatened to suffocate him.
He dozed, waking when Irv nudged him with his leg. He opened his eyes to see Irv standing over him, thumbs hooked under the straps that crossed his chest. “We’ll scope out a water source and bed down. You’ll get used to it, but if I push ya too hard, ya just gotta say something.”
Seal Two Page 2