Worlds Without End: The Mission (Book 1)

by Shaun F. Messick

  **********

  Jake was awakened by a strong wind and a heavy snowstorm. How long had he been out? He looked around and noticed that it was still dark outside. Upside down and still buckled in the driver's seat of the hovercraft, he saw blood dripping from his head to the roof of the mangled vehicle. He reached up, felt a small sliver of glass sticking out of his forehead, and pulled it out. Wincing in pain, he assessed the damage of his injury with his right index finger. The gash was deep, and he knew that he would need stitches, but that wasn't his main concern right now.

  He unbuckled himself and caught his body with his hands before gravity pulled him to the roof of the vehicle. He exited through the shattered front windshield. The wind was blowing ferociously, and the snow was falling harder. He stumbled to the back of the crushed craft and looked inside of what was left of the cargo hold. There was no sign of Skip other than the blood from his injuries.

  Jake looked back at the path the vehicle had scraped through the snow, now filled with freshly fallen snow. He continued to scan for Skip but couldn't see him anywhere. He noticed the fence the craft had crashed through and limped his way to it.

  Once he reached the fence, he looked around. He could not see a thing through the blowing snow. It was a virtual whitewash. He was starting to panic. Oh no! Where could he be? Maybe those Gnol things came back and carried him off?

  He continued to search in the vicinity he thought the vehicle had flipped over, and then, about ten feet to his left, he heard a low moan. He turned and hobbled to the source of the sound. As he approached, he could see the bloodied heap of Skip's body.

  Jake knelt down beside his wounded friend. "Skip!"

  "J ? Jake ?" Skip said as he coughed, with blood trickling down his lip, " ? I ? I don't think I can hold on much longer."

  Jake began to feel desperate. He knew first aid, but without the use of modern day medical technology, he knew he could not save his friend. "Hold on, Skip. I'm going to get you into that building. Once inside, I'll get our supplies and get you warm."

  Jake got his legs underneath him and lifted Skip onto his right shoulder. He didn't know if he hurt Skip because Skip had become delirious and began to mumble things Jake could not understand.

  As he stumbled his way to the building, his ankle ached with pain and his head throbbed. The building was only fifty yards away, but with the blizzard and his own pain, he felt as if he was going to pass out and fall over.

  Finally, he made it to the building and stopped. He was able to get a better look. He now knew why the building looked so familiar when he was upside down in the vehicle. It was actually a pyramid about four stories tall. Surrounding it were five spires that stood slightly taller than the pyramid. Jake noticed that he was standing next to the spire at the front of the pyramid, the one the hovercraft had crashed into. There were two located next to the front corners of the pyramid, and the last two were next to the back corners of the pyramid.

  Jake looked for any sort of entrance. About twenty feet ahead, he noticed an opening. He limped toward it. The opening contained a small stone staircase that led down ten feet to a large wooden door.

  Skip was still mumbling.

  Jake reached the door and tried to open it with the large handle. It wouldn't budge. Jake was getting mad now. He knew that if he didn't get inside soon, Skip wouldn't survive at all. He put Skip down gently on the ground, and with his adrenaline flowing, kicked the door twice. On the second kick, the door slowly squeaked open. A rush of stale air gushed out. It was obvious by the smell of the air that no one had been in the building for years. He pushed the door open a little more.

  The building inside was pitch black. Jake turned, picked Skip up, and walked through the door. He felt the stickiness of a cobweb as he walked a little deeper into the pyramid. He could tell that the hall was narrow, but without any light, he didn't want to go any further. He gently placed Skip on the hard stone floor, and walked back to the wrecked vehicle to get a flashlight from the supplies he had packed.

  A few moments later, Jake entered the pyramid with the flashlight illuminated. When he entered the narrow hallway, he shined the light on each wall to get a better look. Along each wall were hieroglyphs, from the top of the walls all the way down to the floor. It seemed that every square inch of the walls was covered. They were very similar to Egyptian hieroglyphs.

  He nearly stumbled over Skip as he continued to be amazed by the writings. He knelt down to see if Skip was all right. "Skip?"

  No answer.

  "Skip, it's me, Jake. Can you hear me?"

  Skip turned and tried to open his eyes, but he didn't have enough strength. He responded in a slow slur. "J ? J ? ake."

  "Stay here, buddy. The hallway splits down this way. I'm going to check and see if there's a place I can make a comfortable bed for you and bandage you up."

  Jake walked down the remainder of the hallway. He turned to the right and noticed another stone staircase that led upward. He didn't have the strength to carry Skip up a flight of stairs, so he turned around and then noticed the room to the left of the hallway.

  He walked into a small room. From what he estimated, the room had a perimeter about fifteen feet by ten feet. In the center of the room was a damaged fountain. In the center of the fountain were the remains of a small statue that had been destroyed. The remains were strewn in the empty basin of the fountain.

  He shined the light on the walls. Similar hieroglyphs were on the left wall. On the right wall were five old paintings. He moved in closer to get a better look at the paintings. They were difficult to make out. It looked as if someone had vandalized them. One painting seemed familiar, but because of the damage, he could not make out its image. He shined the flashlight downward and noticed a stone bench encircling the room. It reminded Jake of some kind of waiting room.

  This bench will be large enough to hold Skip comfortably, he thought. He then retrieved all of their supplies from the doorway where he had left them and proceeded to make at least a semi-comfortable bed for Skip.

  Jake went back to Skip. Skip moaned in pain and mumbled something Jake could not understand. He picked Skip up and almost fell from exhaustion. He carried Skip and placed him on top of the one sleeping bag from their supplies.

  He quickly searched through the first-aid supplies and found some morphine. He cut away at the left arm of Skip's flight suit and injected the morphine. A few moments later, Skip seemed to fall into a deep sleep as the pain subsided. Jake then commenced to clean and bandage the stub of Skip's left leg. He knew that in a few hours, the bandage would be blood soaked.

  After Jake was finished with Skip, he lay on the cold stone floor of the room with his backpack as a pillow. He felt the tears flood into his eyes as desperation set in.

  Is my dad really on this planet? And, if he is, where is he? Can anyone help us? The thoughts flooded his mind. He didn't know what to do. His dear friend was holding onto life by a thread, and it seemed that everyone on this strange planet was an enemy. And for the first time in years, Jake did something that even surprised himself. ? He prayed.