The LOMMETRUS Chronicles: Book One: The Abduction of William Baxter

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The LOMMETRUS Chronicles: Book One: The Abduction of William Baxter Page 7

by Matthew Novak


  Chapter 7

  The night that Miles and I had, now exposed in the AVERWOOD FOREST, was every bit the equal to our dreadful day earlier. The one positive I took from the whole ordeal was that Miles and I; save for the gash in Miles neck and a few scrapes and bruises on each of us, were alive to talk about the experience.

  Somehow; I had survived the first near death incident of my life on this alien planet.

  The new day didn’t go without a generous amount of gratitude and appreciative gestures from Miles, that I had in fact saved his life too. I tried to remind him of the importance of what building the fire meant to me and how incredibly thankful I was to have at least some cover from the wind; which seemed to hit the opposite side of the tree more, but he acted strangely to me---as if he had seen our friendship that started on Earth reach some new level here on ALVERON. I had noticed the stronger ties forming in our friendship too; there was a bond there and it would always link us, no matter how many years that might pass before talking again.

  I imagined soldiers who come home from traumatic events during wartime and years later reuniting in some bar and sharing a brief moment; a look or a nod which acknowledges another time in their lives. These events; of course, would never be discussed. So it was; at nearly twenty-four years old that I discovered my best friend, an alien from the planet STONIA.

  “Miles, will the council eventually find us in the AVERWOODS?”

  “It’s possible but unlikely,” Miles began; sounding a bit dejected from the thought. “You see, only a handful of ALVERONS even know you’re here. I’m sure they could put a massive rescue party together and look for us but that would draw a lot of unwanted attention. Also, there are spies living among the ALVERONS so everything about you William has to be handled quietly or your life will be in danger. Our best chance is to head back to the BALLASTAH and hope we get lucky or something; maybe the council will leave someone there in case we head back there or maybe,” he paused as if thinking on this more;“ I don’t know.”

  For the first time since I’d met Miles, he seemed uncertain; or maybe just shaken up by the whole thing. I wasn’t facing him so I couldn’t see his body language and I only had the sound of his voice to go on for any extra meaning in his words.

  “These are tough moments ahead of us William.”

  Miles began to sing a tune that was pretty in melody but the words were from his native tongue which had no meaning for my ears.

  “SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA EATCHE

  SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA FETCHE

  SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA EATCHE

  SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA MEI BAHH”

  Miles repeated these verses ten, maybe eleven times. His voice carried a tenor pitch well and I would say sounded angelic in the quiet AVERWOOD FOREST. The sun finally set and it was as pitch black as any night I’d experienced on Earth or ALVERON thus far. My eyes adjusted to the darkness but only a little. I heard movement below me at the foot of the tree and could see the ground moving. Then there were hundreds of them, maybe even thousands of the blood-sucking ROTIANS as I looked further into the woods. Tiny red eyes lit up the forest floor; all of them seeming to look directly at Miles and me. Their noses sniffed about feverishly causing a high pitched whistle noise that would make sleep that night impossible. I was already prepared for a lousy night of rest but this took it to a non-existent level.

  Miles spoke up over the devilish whistle that the ROTIANS were making, “Just remember the tune and words I sang before they appeared. While you’re doing this, think of your favorite memory, something from your childhood perhaps.”

  His words came as a rescue to me as my mind shifted from the fiery red coals below us and the tune from earlier replaced the awful noise coming from the nostrils of the ROTIANS.

  “SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA EATCHE

  SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA FETCHE

  SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA EATCHE

  SCHA SCHA OHH BAADAA MEI BAHH”

  As strange as it sounds, I drifted off into a meaningful rest, the last verse, “MEI BAHH,” brought a smile to my face before I slept. I was also unaware of the cannibalistic feedings that ROTIANS participate in once blood is not found for the evening and the high pitch screams from weaker ROTIANS fell on my deaf ears.

  I woke up the next morning not feeling quite as energized for the day as yesterday. If the aches from the crash weren’t enough, my night sleeping in a tree added twenty-five years of aches and joint pain to my bones. The cold air was merciless to my plight as I felt too stiff to climb down the tree. I managed anyway as the thought of walking around some gave me motivation.

  Miles didn’t seem to be experiencing any of the same affects as he jumped from a limb above the one I gingerly scaled down to get my feet closer to ground. In fact; upon closer examination of the cloth that had been put on Miles---after we buried the old one---it revealed a gash that had been nearly healed.

  “Miles, your wound, it is nearly healed,” saying this with astonishment.

  Miles looked up at me and paused a moment as if he were going through a quick edit before speaking, “The gash is the least of our worries today William. We need to try and find that BALLASTAH before the day is over. Are you able to walk?”

  I nodded but was somewhat annoyed that my curiosity about his quick heal had been ignored. This was an interesting revelation to me and I sought Miles’ explanation on the matter.

  We pressed on toward the river though and followed it in the direction opposite that our transporter had been heading---which was away from the sun. I figured Miles was probably looking for the canoe we left at the bank or perhaps the dead limb that we hid behind when the GARGIAN appeared. This thought reminded me of what Miles said about the GARGIAN and its natural draw to the water.

  “Miles, if we stay too close to the river, won’t the GARGIAN have a better chance at finding us?”

  This drew a staggered look from Miles face and he said, “Yeah, you are right but I don’t know how else to find our BALLASTAH. And if I didn’t say it before, be quiet and alert because if the GARGIAN sees us, we are finished.”

  “Even with your supernatural ability to heal Miles; would you be finished?”

  This didn’t get a response from Miles as he walked away so I followed, wondering why my second attempt to find out about this curious healing power had been ignored. Was Miles just a god or something? Could I be dead and this is some kind of adventure you get with a god before some kind of afterlife begins? I cracked a smile at this and thought of it no more for the rest of our walk in the AVERWOODS.

  We walked purposefully at a sound distance from the river, watchful for any familiarity but mindful of each sound made so to not alert the dangerous GARGIAN by the bank. The sun was directly above us and for the first time in a few days, I was ready to take clothing off. I wasn’t hot but felt warm enough to slip the coat past each arm and tie both sleeves in a knot in front of my belly so the somewhat now tattered coat stayed with me but around my waist. When it seemed like a few hours after I had done that, Miles stopped and pointed toward a small corridor in the river where the canoe was banked. Miles turned and looked at me, eyes big and finger lifted toward the mouth. I understood immediately, the GARGIAN was close; Miles backed up slowly toward the tree nearest to where we’d been standing and I copied his movement. I heard something from the trees ahead, a branch snapped and then silence. My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. Miles crouched low to the ground and I followed. His head turned in each direction, hoping to spot the creature before it spotted us; or maybe it had already and was waiting to pounce on one of us at the right moment.

  I wished I was a lion instead of a human at that moment; one of the most ferocious of beasts on Earth and thinking strangely in a moment as intense as this one, could a lion kill a GARGIAN?

  Miles finally spotted it in the water. The GARGIAN made his way out of the water and walked toward the canoe. The water drenched the monsters thick coat; making it appear darker and
more menacing than the image from a few days ago. I kept a watchful eye on it, knowing that we weren’t out of danger yet. Man, this thing was ugly, nasty, scary and really hairy. On looks alone, the GARGIAN was more terrifying than the lion. However, it seemed to have some intelligence too---as the GARGIAN canoed down the river.

  When the GARGIAN was no longer in sight, Miles slowly crept toward the river and began crossing it. I was right behind him when suddenly the GARGIAN was back in sight. It had spotted Miles and was paddling at an extremely rapid pace for something heading upstream.

  Miles yelled, “Get out of here William! Get out of here now!”

  He continued to cross the river as I was still on the side we had started. I paused, not sure what to do.

  Miles screamed at me this time, “Run!”

  I began to run in the opposite direction of Miles, into the forest, dodging trees and jumping over logs. Running and not sure where I was running to---but fast as my shorter legs would allow. I kept moving for what seemed like a half hour till I reached an opening in the forest. I fell down to the ground, body shaking while trying to catch my breath. My knees were shaking uncontrollably at this point as adrenaline kicked in and had taken over my body. I was all alone now, millions or probably billions of miles away from home in a strange land that required Miles to navigate through. After finally catching my breath, I decided it best to briskly walk toward the river but this time, try and cross it near the place we had started today. This would at least put me on the same side of the forest that the BALLASTAH was on, possibly increasing any chance of triggering an image in the woods that would lead me to the BALLASTAH.

  With any luck, Miles would be there, waiting by the fire for me. I had to move quickly, knowing another night in the open woods meant an uncomfortable situation in a tree somewhere. I was certain Miles was alright but I worried that he’d put himself in a dangerous situation with the GARGIAN to save my life. Miles seemed different today, like the sound judgment attached to his personal decision tree had been rocked by yesterday’s events.

  The day wore on and the sun was making its gradual descent; telling me based on the few days I’d been on ALVERON that nightfall would be upon me. I thought about crossing the river but decided against it as I knew another night in a tree and exposed to the sight of those little red eyes, was becoming a real possibility. I didn’t need the added stress of getting wet and needing to build a fire. I thought about the song Miles sang and particularly the words.

  “SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA EATCHE

  SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA FETCHE

  SCHA SCHA OOH BAADAA EATCHE

  SCHA SCHA OHH BAADAA MEI BAHH”

  Of course, my singing voice fell flat compared to Miles’ angelic tenor but it still helped release the stress. I kept walking through a thick area of trees, trying to find one that I could attempt to climb and as luck would have it; which mine seemed to be pretty bad at the moment; there was not a single tree with a limb low enough to climb.

  This seemed so easy yesterday. Why was I having issues finding one? Panic began to set in as the woods got darker. I began to imagine the ROTIAN creatures, with their red, beady eyes terrorizing me and razor blade teeth, tearing the flesh off my body as I watched. They would fight for sections to drain the blood from me until I was completely bone dry. I began to wonder how many gallons of blood I have and how long it would take for a hoard of ROTIANS to drain me.

  It’s too bad for them that I’m mini-me at the moment. A crooked smile appeared on my face.

  I finally came upon a tree that had the lowest limb I’d seen so far. It wasn’t going to be easy to reach it but I had to try. Then something caught my eye just before I gave the tree a bear hug and attempted to scale it. Beyond this tree, about one hundred meters, I saw a rope ladder. I rubbed my eyes thinking; AVERWOOD forest mirage? I approached the image and rubbed my glasses one last time. Sure enough, it is a rope ladder. I ran to it and just at the right time---as I began to here the faint whistle sniff that told me an army of ROTIANS was near. I approached the ladder and climbed without hesitation.

  It ran parallel to probably the tallest tree in that area. Dense foliage covered my view of where the ladder would lead but I continued to climb; stepping on each rung of the crude ladder carefully so as to not give the ROTIANS below a surprise snack. I ascended further to a height greater than the tree residence that I had stayed at during my first two evenings and looked up to find only more ladder rungs and tree branches. The tree branches were peculiar up here as the ends seemed to be twisting around the rope and then into the rope; until finally the ladder steps were attached to the branches that pointed up in succession. The ladder seemed stronger up here; not as flimsy as the lower half and unexpectedly each step up was quickened without thought.

  Now I was among only a few trees and could see some cloud cover. My legs were tired but I pressed forward wondering when this ladder would end and what was at the top of it. I climbed more until the ladder and the tree it was attached to was the only thing in sight as clouds covered everything below me. This tree is as tall as a mountain, making a mental observation and noticing the somewhat thinner breathing air. I looked around in all directions at this point as the panoramic view at this great height was magnificent. The forest stretched beyond a distance I was able to see. The trunk and branches were still very dense and it began to frustrate me that no destination was yet in sight. I was very cold and tired from the climb but had no other options at this point.

 

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