by Gary Hoover
. . . But then he realized that there was something unexplainable about the pheerion. He had clearly seen the pheerion in his dreams before he had even arrived . . . didn’t I?
As he thought about it, he realized it wasn’t all that clear. Did I really see the pheerion, or did I just have a sense of evil and once I did see it, I overlaid that image over what I had been seeing? I did seem to be able to understand what the one on the TV was saying . . . what’s with that?
He wondered if that was related to the other ‘feelings’ he had been having. He seemed to sense strong emotions and non-verbal things people were communicating. Does that sense allow me to clearly understand things people are trying to communicate in other languages.
Jeff shook his head. The more he thought about it, the crazier it seemed. As long as I’m thinking crazy things, maybe I should consider the possibility that I could be ‘The Raja’. Jeff laughed at that one.
He started to wonder if the whole thing was a dream. Maybe when I ‘went through the portal’ I was really just scrambling my brain and right now I’m lying in a hospital bed in some sort of coma with mom sitting there - crying.
He shuddered at the thought of that.
. . . No, this all seems too real - none of the strange ambiguity and confused, fluid nature of a dream.
There was a sudden noise that snapped Jeff out of his thoughts and made him jump.
Oscar snarled and lurched at the ends of his chains. He had quietly eased over as close as his chains would allow and then LUNGED, growling, at Jeff.
The panic started to set in again.
Chapter 37:
Jeff looked around at the interior of the wooden ship. He actually knew he was dreaming this time, so he wasn’t as afraid as he had been. He decided he was going to stay with it this time and find out what happens next.
He had decided that these were more than simple dreams. He was convinced that he had clearly seen the pheerion before he even knew what one was. He had a feeling that his dreams were important, and he might be able to learn something if he paid attention.
The pheerion was there, and once again, he began to speak: “You can’t stop me boy!”
At this point he usually woke up, but he was determined to stick with it.
“Not while I have the power of the artifact.”
Jeff flinched as the pheerion raised his hand to strike, but the punch never came. Jeff looked and realized the pheerion was holding something in his raised hand.
Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Jeff zoomed in and realized the pheerion was holding . . .
. . . His locket?
Jeff wondered what that meant, but as he watched the locket rotate, it was almost as if there was a voice in his head saying: ‘Wait for it, wait for it. . .’
As the locket rotated . . . slowly . . . slowly . . . Jeff focused in on it and it completely filled his view.
It had nearly rotated all the way around, and he expected to see his father’s photo . . .
. . . But he didn’t.
Instead, he saw his own face looking back at him.
But not Jeff as he looked now . . . a much younger Jeff.
The photo Jeff’s father had in his locket!
Jeff woke up.
He was absolutely sure - at that moment - that the dream was real and it meant that the pheerion had contact with his father.
Jeff’s heart was pounding. My father is here! Somewhere. He knew it!
. . . Didn’t he?
He looked around and remembered where he was. Oscar was snoring in his corner. As Jeff remembered his situation, the optimism began to fade. Even if my father is here, how can I find him now?
I’m stuck in this awful cell . . . and even if I could get out, what would I do? Tap the pheerion on the shoulder and say: ‘Excuse me Mr. Lizard Creature, but I notice you have my father’s locket. Would you mind telling me where you found that?’
And then he even started to wonder how real the dream even was. For a moment, I was absolutely sure it was showing me something real, but that’s ridiculous . . . Isn’t it? Why would I even think that? It was just a dream. Am I going crazy?
The panic he had felt the night before was giving way to depression. His emotions just seemed to be all over the place.
Then he noticed something that brought the panic back - bigger and better than ever.
Jeff saw that, for some reason, Oscar’s chains were no longer attached to his hands and wrists. They were on the floor - open - beside him.
Chapter 38:
Crap!
After seeing how Oscar had been acting the day before, Jeff was scared . . . scared as hell . . . to be trapped in the same cell with him with no shackles to hold him back.
Jeff HAD to somehow get him back in the shackles.
Jeff moved . . . slowly, cautiously . . . toward him. He tried to avoid stepping in the piles of feces but soon realized that was hopeless . . . and a relatively minor concern at the moment.
He carefully lifted one of the shackles. The lock was missing. How is that possible?!?!? Jeff found one of the locks a few feet away. It was similar to a padlock. It was locked but not on the shackle and couldn’t be opened without a key.
Hell!
Jeff looked around and saw another closed lock.
Somebody had to have done this. It couldn’t have just ‘happened’.
He had to find some way out.
He looked around the cell desperately. He checked the door which was solidly secured. What chance do I have, he thought. People must spend years trying to get out of these cells. How can I hope to get out in hours?
He felt around the back walls for any openings or weaknesses, but the stones were large and solid.
He scratched at the mortar between the stones and found it crumbled and fell away relatively easily. He ran his thumb around one of the stones and he could see dust falling off the mortar.
Could it be that easy? He wondered. He shook his head. Even if I could scrape the mortar away, these stones are HUGE. I could probably never budge one.
The stones were each about two-feet by two-feet and he had no idea how deep they were.
He looked around for some sort of tool, but there wasn’t much in the cell. He tried to see if there was anything he could pull off the toilet, but it seemed secure. He thought about the shackles, but they were still securely chained.
There didn’t seem to be anything he could use.
He saw the long spoon in the bowl. It was plastic, but a fairly hard plastic. Harder than my skin, and my thumb was enough to loosen the mortar. He pulled it out of the bowl and tapped it against his hand. It might be worth a try.
He headed back to the wall with the spoon in hand. As he passed by Oscar, he heard him stir.
Jeff froze.
He watched as Oscar lifted his head . . . scratched the back of his neck. . .
Jeff’s stomach lurched as Oscar rose . . .
. . . Then rolled over and seemed to be right back asleep.
Jeff exhaled, but didn’t move for a few more minutes.
When it seemed clear that Oscar was back asleep, Jeff continued to the stone he had been working at on the rear wall.
He scraped the handle of the spoon around the stone and saw a satisfying shower of mortar dust falling to the floor. He rubbed for several more minutes, paused to admire the progress, then went back at it harder and faster.
He was definitely removing some of the mortar, but it would take a long time. How deep are these stones? One-foot? Two-feet?
The spoon’s handle was only about 10 inches, and even if he was able – somehow - to get all the way through, he still assumed the stone would be too heavy to move . . . but he tried to push those doubts out of his mind. He didn’t really have many options . . . and, as hopeless as it seemed, there was something in the back of his mind telling him he was on the right track.
Probably just crazy delusions . . . but crazy delusions are better than nothing.
Impressive progress, but nowhere near where he needed to be.
Every few minutes, he would pause when he heard Oscar stirring and watch for any signs of movement.
Now his arm and shoulder were aching. He dropped the spoon and rubbed his shoulder.
This is hopeless, he thought.
On a whim, he decided to push on the rock just to see what it felt like.
He braced his foot against an irregular stone in the floor that stuck up a couple inches. He put his hands firmly on the stone, got a good foothold on the rough, rocky floor, pushed with his leg, pushed with his arms and . . .
. . . It didn’t move even the slightest bit.
Not really surprising, but still frustrating.
Oscar was stirring again. He seemed to be moving more frequently, and Jeff wondered if he was beginning to wake up.
He braced himself and pushed again, but again, the stone was clearly going nowhere.
He turned and sat. He watched Oscar and was afraid he could definitely see signs of waking.
He got back in position and pushed with everything he had . . .
. . . And . . .
. . . This time . . .
. . . It moved!
Only a fraction of a millimeter at most, but there was no doubt in Jeff’s mind that he felt it move . . . as crazy as that seemed.
He re-braced himself and pushed again. . .
. . . It moved a little more.
. . . Not much, but it was moving.
He continued to push, and it seemed to be getting a little easier. It felt like he was getting stronger as he went. He had a strange sensation in his muscles . . . as if there was some extra energy being pumped into them . . . like adrenalin, but stronger.
He had moved it about 6 inches, but now he was completely worn out. He sat and rested and watched Oscar.
His stomach lurched as he realized as he saw one of Oscar’s eyes glinting back at him.
He turned around and pushed with everything he had. The stone continued to slowly slide. Jeff didn’t stop to think that what he was doing was completely impossible, he just kept going.
He looked over his shoulder and saw Oscar beginning to move toward him.
The stone moved a little bit and Oscar moved a little bit the stone moved a little bit and Oscar moved a little bit.
The stone had moved more than a foot now and it was still going, but it seemed to go a little faster and a little easier as he went. He couldn’t see any daylight yet.
Then he felt something on his ankle. Oscar had grabbed his ankle in an iron grip. Jeff looked around startled, and, at that same moment, he felt the stone fall away. He had been pushing so hard that he fell through the hole he had just created. While his legs were still back in the cell, his body was hanging out of the hole and the mass of his body pulled his legs – with Oscar still hanging on – through the hole and over the edge.
He found himself dangling by his ankle 200 feet in the air.
Jeff hadn’t really thought about the fact that his cell likely wasn’t on the ground floor – they had taken an elevator to get to it, after all. In fact, he had been so focused on getting through that he hadn’t spent a lot of time speculating what would happen after he got through. He had figured that was just a detail he would have to deal with when he got to that point.
He was at that point.
He was hanging 200 feet in the air, and the only thing preventing him from falling to his death was a maniac who would surely dismember him as soon as he could haul him back up.
Jeff flailed wildly - more out of desperation and instinct than any plan or common sense.
He felt Oscar’s grip begin to slip but then felt another hand slapping and grabbing at him. It seemed that Oscar wasn’t going to give up his prize easily. Oscar’s hands were grabbing so violently that Jeff was bleeding, and that blood was making it hard for Oscar to maintain his hold.
Jeff felt himself starting to slide out of Oscar’s grasp. Oscar was now halfway out of the hole, and it seemed he might follow Jeff down rather than relinquish him.
Jeff felt himself sliding out of Oscar’s grasp. He took a look over his shoulder and saw the disappointed look on his former cell-mates face as he began to fall.
This was it.
Within a few seconds, he’d be dead.
Chapter 39:
But he hit the ground much sooner than he thought he would, and it was much softer and less violent an impact than he would have imagined. He saw Baldwin’s face and heard Nahima’s voice saying: “Well this is getting to be a habit.”
Jeff was in Artimus’ car. Artimus was driving, Nahima was in the front passenger seat, and Baldwin was in the rear with Jeff. It was still dark. It had seemed an eternity since the day before, and Jeff had imagined they were well into morning by now. But it seemed like the sun hadn’t even come up yet.
“ARE YOU OKAY?” Artimus had to shout so that his voice could be heard over the wind noise.
Jeff nodded. “I THINK SO.”
“STRAP IN AND HOLD ON. THINGS MIGHT GET ROUGH HERE. WE CAN TALK WHEN WE’VE HAD A CHANCE TO SETTLE DOWN.”
Jeff reached for his seat-belt and was trying to connect it when Artimus hit the accelerator and they took off so fast that Jeff’s arms were plastered against the seat before he could finish connecting.
Jeff looked over his shoulder and realized there were two flying police-cars in hot pursuit.
Green energy bolts flashed past as Artimus’ car rocked, zig-zagged and bounced violently. Artimus was trying to make them as difficult to hit as possible.
Jeff managed to get his seat-belt fastened, and found a strange, relieved peace as they rocketed at 200 mph weaving between buildings while the police shot at them.
It all seemed much safer than where he had been.
Artimus was weaving frantically back and forth and up and down to try to avoid the energy bolts that seemed to be coming from all directions. Jeff bounced and slid and shook in his seat, but all the moves were so quick that he never went too far in any one direction.
Artimus was fiddling with some knobs and didn’t seem to see the large building directly in their path.
“Dad,” Nahima said gently. She touched him on the arm and pointed at the looming building.
Jeff was about to shout a much more urgent warning with far more exclamation points for emphasis, but Artimus looked up, yanked on the yoke, and they veered around the building just in time.
Jeff looked back to see how the police cars would react. One turned the other way and disappeared from view, but the other one stayed right with them. Green flashes continued to zip past. Jeff could hear the sounds of the closer ones as they gave off a low frequency hum.
Before Jeff could take much comfort in the police car they lost, two more joined the pursuit. Jeff realized, with some discomfort, that the density of fire was increasing and it seemed inevitable that eventually one would make solid contact.
No sooner had Jeff thought that then they did suffer a glancing hit on Baldwin’s side. Baldwin jumped and let out a startled yelp as the vehicle rocked violently.
“That’s not good.” Artimus glanced at various dials and indicators as he increased speed.
They were going VERY fast now with barely enough time to dodge each new building as it approached, but it seemed Artimus felt it was better to take his chances with greater speed and faith in his own flying skills rather than making himself an easier target for the police guns.
They began to open up some more distance between themselves and the three vehicles that were still in pursuit.
I wonder why he doesn’t get up and out of these buildings . . . I guess we’d be too much in the open then and easier targets . . .
Jeff caught his breath as a 4th police car showed up . . . headed straight at them in a near head-on collision course. Its guns fired furiously as it approached fright
ening speed
Artimus held his course and won the game of ‘chicken’ against the new arrival. The police vehicle veered off and ended up in a position that would make it difficult for him to turn and catch up with the others.
Jeff saw that they were approaching the edge of the city and the houses in front of them were much smaller and sparser than the large, city buildings. Jeff found himself facing conflicting feelings of relief and concern. Relief that they’d no longer have to dodge buildings but concern they’d be easier targets for the police.
As they passed the edge of the city and the last of the big buildings, Artimus pulled the lever – which Jeff had come to recognize as the throttle – ALL the way back.
Artimus’ car was FAST.
They shot forward with a speed that Jeff would have had a hard time imagining if he hadn’t been actually experiencing it.
“SORRY, I CAN’T PUT THE TOP UP AT THIS SPEED. HANG ON FOR A FEW MORE MINUTES, AND THEN WE’LL HAVE A CHANCE TO TALK,” Artimus explained.
Jeff tried to turn his head to get a look at the police cars. The wind and acceleration made even simple movements difficult. Jeff thought he saw the police falling back, but he couldn’t be sure.
Jeff thought he could see the blue force screen that surrounded Caesurmia in the distance, but the distance was closing fast.
“HANG ON EVERYBODY. THE POLICE WILL HAVE LOCKED THE SCREEN,” Artimus said. He pulled on his controls and they began to climb almost straight up. Jeff felt himself pushing deep, deep into his seat.
The screen seemed to go forever. Jeff’s ears popped, and he began to find it hard to breath, but then they crested the top edge of the screen and Artimus began to bring them down - at a more leisurely pace.
“OKAY, THEY SHOULDN’T FOLLOW US BEYOND THE BARRIER. ONCE I’VE PUT A LITTLE MORE DISTANCE BETWEEN US, WE’LL SET DOWN. CONGRATULATIONS EVERYBODY, WE ARE NOW OFFICIALLY FUGITIVES.”
Chapter 40:
Fugitives?
While Jeff was absolutely ecstatic to be out of that prison cell, the thought that he had turned his new friends - who had taken him in and treated him with such kindness. . . not to mention twice saving his life - into . . . fugitives was not sitting well with him at all.