Echoes of The Past

by Alex Just

 

   

   

   

  Echoes of The Past

  Alex Just

  Copyright 2012 by Alexander Just

   

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission of the author, Alex Just.

  Text © Alex Just

  Cover by Alex Just

   

  For my Family

  Jo, Wolfram, Nick and Olivia

  ˷

   

   

  Mayan Prophecies

  ~ Book 1 ~

   

   

   

   

   

  Echoes of The Past

   

  “The bounds of our past hold no restrictions on our actions, other than those imposed by our minds.”

   

   

   

  ~ Alex Just ~

   

   

  Table of Contents

  1 ~ Singing Pearl – Pacific ~

  2 ~ Switzerland ~

  3 ~ Pacific Ocean ~

  4 ~ Switzerland ~

  5 ~ Island – Pacific ~

  6 ~ Switzerland ~

  7 ~ Island – pacific ~

  8 ~ Switzerland ~

  9 ~ Island – pacific ~

  10 ~ Island – Pacific. ~

  11 ~ Island – pacific ~

  12 ~ Switzerland – Paris ~

  13 ~ Island – pacific ~

  14 ~ Island – pacific ~

  15 ~ Paris ~

  16 ~Island – pacific ~

  17 ~Paris ~

  18 ~Island – pacific ~

  19 ~Island – pacific ~

  20 ~Paris – Madrid ~

  21 ~Island – pacific ~

  22 ~Madrid ~

  23 ~Island – pacific ~

  24 ~Brisbane ~

  25 ~Island – pacific ~

  26 ~Island – pacific ~

  27 ~Singing pearl – pacific ~

  28 ~Island – pacific ~

  29 ~Island – pacific ~

  30 ~Island – pacific ~

  31 ~Island – pacific ~

  32 ~Island – pacific ~

  33 ~Island – pacific ~

  34 ~Island – pacific ~

  35 ~Island – pacific ~

  36 ~Island – pacific ~

  37 ~Island – pacific ~

  38 ~Island – pacific ~

  39 ~Island – pacific ~

  40 ~Island – pacific ~

  41 ~Island – pacific ~

  42 ~Island – pacific ~

  43 ~Island – pacific ~

  44 ~Island – pacific ~

  45 ~Island – pacific ~

  46 ~Island – pacific ~

  47 ~Island – pacific ~

  48 ~Island – pacific ~

  49 ~Island – pacific ~

  50 ~Island – pacific ~

  ~ Epilogue ~

  ~ Acknowledgements ~

  ~ About the Author ~

   

   

   

  1

  ~ Singing Pearl – Pacific ~

  Bright orange flames licked the edge of the carpet; he was cowered down in the corner, unable to move towards the wide open window which promised safety. The sensation of unbearable heat was burning into his very being, as if the bed was on fire. He heard screams, loud and painful, wrought with fear coming from just beyond the flames. He couldn’t be sure, the feeling of heat was too intense and the figures were in constant change from light to dark, but they looked like his… He couldn’t breathe, the sheets gripped him in a tight hold, smoke was in his eyes, nose, mouth and lungs, consuming him. Suddenly there was a gap in the inferno. The screaming figures turned to face him…

       Tom sat bolt upright in the bed, covered in sweat and breathing hard, alone as always. I should be used to this by now, he thought, frustrated. Ever since the death of his parents he’d had that cursed nightmare. He shook his head, clearing it from the shrouds of sleep and the last dregs of his nightmare. He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk in his small cabin on the cruise and stood up. Their vessel was modelled on an 18th century sailing ship. Without warning he was flung into the side table, smashing the lamp shade and spilling shards of glass onto the floor. What the hell is going on? Tom’s thoughts were disorientated and jumbled as he battled his way across a heaving floor to the door. He had to find Martin and his parents. The ship might be sinking! With a grunt of effort he forced himself out into the corridor, water gushing in, nearly knocking him off his feet again. He must have been the first awake; it seemed the storm had only just started. His curiosity got the better of him and he slipped up towards the deck to check if the storm was as bad as he feared. He opened the hatch, clinging onto the handrail, terrified by the onslaught.  

  Rain lashed the deck of the Singing Pearl, mingling with huge wind driven waves that crashed relentlessly against the ship’s hull. Loud, dull booms hammered out a sacrificial drum beat. The ship’s timbers creaked and groaned as the howling wind plunged the vessel onwards into the waves, sails pulled taut on salt-crusted rigging. Lightning illuminated everything in an eerie glow, while thunder tore the skies apart.

  Tied to the helm stood a solid man with a short beard. His face like leather, reflecting a lifetime in the sun, held that boyish roundness to it which radiated kindness. His hair was brown, and very dark eyes were shadowed by fierce eyebrows. His scarred knuckles were white from gripping the helm with such force, fighting to keep the ship steady; an impossible task. Everyone else was below deck, the exception being those of the crew unlucky enough to pull the short straw for night watch. The passengers were left with no choice but to wait out the storms beating, unless they were lucky enough to sleep through it.

  One of the sailors was struggling towards the bow when, from below the main mast, there was a loud whipping noise. Suddenly, the sailor found himself caught up in a violent tangle of ropes and canvas. His warning was lost in the fury as he was ripped from the deck and flung over the side into the swirling mass of green waves.

  ‘Man over board!’ An urgent shout from another crew member, horror etched into his face. The captain looked up in alarm, only to see loose ropes and sails flapping in the wind. In that moment, the helm took advantage of the slack in the captain’s grip, spinning away from his hands, knocking him to the floor and hurtling out of control. The ship lurched from side to side, everyone below deck was tossed about, and objects flew through the air hitting people; plates and cutlery smashed onto the ground, glasses exploded as they hit walls.

  As the captain made a grab for the helm there was a loud snap and it went limp, the ship was now at the full mercy of Mother Nature. The captain stumbled down below into a chaotic jumble of plates, chairs, glasses, and ornaments. Worst of all were the number of injured and terrified people who were all shouting and yelling at each other, trying desperately to get their families together or gather a few of their precious belongings.

  ‘Please stay calm, everything will be under control, we need you to cooperate, please be quiet so my crew and I can help you.’ His shouting was drowned out by the blast of noise.

  Without warning there was an ear-splitting crash and the sound of wood spli
ntering. The ship jerked to a halt, only to be ripped up by the sea again and tossed onto its side. Slowly at first, water started to seep into the ship, and then as the pressure built up the water began to gush in, sweeping aside anything in its way.

  There was a mad scramble as people made for the stairs to get onto deck, but another sudden lurch made it impossible, everyone was falling on top of each other, slipping and sliding on debris in the water. There was a small pause in the battering of the ship and everyone took the opportunity to escape.

       Tom was paralysed with fear. No storm he’d witnessed in his entire life had been this violent or ruthless. He’d completely forgotten about Martin and his family, let alone his own safety.

  The first person out in the open was immediately knocked overboard as a huge wave thundered down onto the deck. Someone had tried to get the life rafts into the ocean but had been washed over the side during the attempt, the water causing rafts to begin inflating on the deck. The others followed more cautiously holding on to whatever was nearest to them, dodging the inflating rafts as the wind tossed them round, and making their way to the ships dinghies.

  The captain had managed to get out and was helping the women, children and elderly into the dinghies, while the crew and the men were getting into others themselves. Two dinghies managed it into the water, and as the third was being lowered into the sea, a huge wave surged up, claiming all inside into its churning depths.

  The ship was now almost deserted, except for Tom, who’d found Martin’s tall frame ensnared between the wall and the bed of his cabin, only his brown hair showing. Tom had helped push the bed away from the wall and together they struggled up on deck. Martin’s parents had been forced out into the weather by the shoving crowd with no chance to go back for their son and his friend. The two boys were trying vainly to get to a dinghy but it was too difficult.

  ‘We’re nearly there, just a couple of metres,’ cried Tom desperately.

  ‘Yeah, almost there…’ panted Martin.

  Without warning the ship gave another lurch, tipping even further on its side and snaring with more force onto the corals. The water level was still rising. Both boys had been knocked into the turbulent waters. Spluttering and shivering in shock they managed to grab a piece of wood that they clung to as they were thrown and tossed about without mercy.

  ***

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