Chapter 2 - Washed Up

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

At first, there was only an endless void. Dark, empty, and immeasurable. Surely nothing could exist here.

But despite the emptiness, distant impressions of existence materialized at the periphery of Xander’s mind. First came a sense of self. Then came the sensations of his fingers and toes, his arms and legs, and finally, the rest of his body.

     Then came the sensation of water.

     His back rested on the surface of a liquid expanse, rocking back and forth with the current. Water droplets sprinkled his face. They tasted salty and metallic. Without warning, the current intensified into waves, each one more erratic than the last, until his body flipped up and down in the wake of the madness.

     Xander opened his eyes to a world of color.

     Overhead, he saw a vast night sky cast in deep purple and green, filled with stars and other celestial bodies. Among them were three moons, all at different phases in their lunar cycles.

     Huh?

     He blinked and brought his attention back to his body, noticing the weightlessness of his limbs and the numbness of his face. In a sudden panic, he realized he couldn’t breathe.

     Another wave crashed over him as he gasped for air, sending him flipping and turning into the roaring sea foam. But then his feet touched down on a sandy floor, and he stood up. The surf was only about knee-deep. He wavered back and forth, coughing up water and salt, eventually finding enough balance to pull himself up onto a nearby beach. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the cold, soft sand, a welcome relief from the tumultuous sea.

     Lying motionless with his eyes closed, he listened to the waves. The foamy water rushed over his legs and then receded, beckoning him back out. He was grateful for this beach; otherwise, he would have drowned.

     Wait . . .

     Another sense of panic struck him. He sat up and scanned the area.

     What’s this? Where am I?

     Anxiety swelled in his chest. He sat at the base of a vast beach surrounded by an infinite ocean, the horizon only interrupted by intermittent small islands. Bright ribbons of red-and-orange light stretched across the sky, extending overhead and far behind him.

     He traced the light ribbons with his eyes, turning around until he noticed an immense tropical jungle only a few paces from where he sat. The canopy towered at least thirty feet up, and at the base, a dense layer of vegetation prevented him from seeing into it. The wall of greenery had an unsettling presence, as it breathed with life and shook with activity.

     When he turned back to face the ocean, he noticed the sun had breached the horizon. Whitecaps caught the orange-and-purple colors and scattered them across the ocean’s surface like tiny shards of glittering glass, sending waves of morning light and warmth in his direction.

     Although it was only early dawn, the sun was much brighter and hotter than he recalled. He looked closely, then shook his head. It was not a sun, but two suns ascending over the horizon in tandem. There was a large orange one joined by a smaller blue one.

     A binary star? But that’s not right . . .

     His mouth ran dry, his heart pulsed, and fear consumed him entirely. He could not comprehend what he was looking at. His instincts were thrown off. How had he gotten here in the first place?

     When he tried to remember how he arrived in the ocean, his mind went blank. He looked down at his soaked clothes—a dark gray windbreaker, a white t-shirt, tan shorts, socks, and leather boots. These were his clothes, but he had no idea where they came from. His hands started to tremble. Something was wrong.

     But then memories filled his mind. The last thing he could remember was getting into bed with Lyza and falling asleep. That could only mean one thing.

     This is a dream. I’m . . . dreaming.

     Hot air scorched his exposed skin. He peered up at the binary star, which was higher in the sky now. Its impressive size and rapid ascent explained the unrelenting blast of heat. One thing was for certain: he had to get off this beach.

     He made haste toward the protection of the jungle. Once he passed under the canopy, it was as though he walked into an industrial cooler. The air was crisp and refreshing compared to the beach.

     Deeper into the tropical undergrowth, the light faded into darkness. He squinted to get a better look, but the jungle was an unforgiving wall of leafy plants, refusing to relinquish its secrets.

     He heard moving water—not like the rush and roar of waves against the shore, but a delicate sound, like the trickle of water down rocks. He presumed there had to be a freshwater source nearby, and nothing sounded more satisfying than a drink of water.

     His natural curiosity guided him deeper into the jungle. As he walked, the ground became disorderly and uneven, taken hostage by twisted roots and fallen vines. The air smelled earthy and ancient, like moss and decaying organics. And although there were occasional hot-air pockets, the temperature beneath the canopy remained cool.

     After a few minutes, he arrived at a small waterfall that flowed out from a decent-sized pond. From the extensive survival courses required of all box-comm citizens after the Western Fracture, he knew that moving water was safe to drink in most cases, but a single drink of stagnant water could be dangerous—or deadly. Since this water came from a source and seemed to flow steadily, he figured it was safe enough.

     He cupped his hands, collected some water, and took a sip. It was fresh and cold as it ran down his throat. Once he had enough, he took a few steps up the side of the waterfall, then stopped in his tracks. The pond mesmerized him.

     Several water-worn rocks dotted the surface, each about halfway submerged. They all contained their own ecosystems of sprouting microplants. Wiry stalks with lavender flowering bulbs protruded from the pond around them like skyscrapers.

     In the water, abstract-colored fish maneuvered around the miniature rock islands. To his surprise, they were not fish, but aquatic creatures that resembled fish. Their fins protruded and retracted with each breath, and their eyes had large pupils, making it apparent what they were looking at. Their strange appearances startled him, but then he remembered. This was a dream.

     Winged creatures flapped in the canopy, squawking unfamiliar cries. He looked upwards, but could not make anything out through the thick vines and branches. Their calls faded, replaced by deeper sounds from the jungle.

     The noise grew louder, as if something were approaching. His gut reaction was to run, but he wasn’t sure if what he heard were voices or the grunts and gargles from some animal. As the commotion drew closer, he could make out words—words he could understand.

     “Blazing fire,” a raspy voice said. “We’ve passed this spot three times already.”

     “Keep looking,” a deeper, authoritative voice said.

     “But there’s nothing out here.”

     “You heard Kauz. We can’t return empty-handed. Especially after our latest stunt.”

     The raspy voice huffed and grunted. “Kauz just wants to keep us away from Base Camp. Let’s ditch ‘em while we’ve got the chance.”

     “No, you idiot. They would hunt us—and kill us.”

     At that moment, two humanlike figures appeared through a pocket of leafy branches. Their faces were grotesquely mangled, with tubes and wires weaving in and out of the scar tissue protruding from their cheeks. They had pale skin, with ash-black veins bulging from their muscular arms, and their eyes sockets were smeared in a soot-like substance, with dark, hopeless eyes sunken deep into their inhuman faces.

     As they approached the pond, one of them looked straight at Xander.

     “What’s that? By the water?” The shorter one with the raspy voice shook his companion furiously. “We got something! We got something!”

     “Get ‘em.”

     The two barbarian-like men rushed at Xander, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should run or not. But something deep and primal shifted within him and commanded him to move. Without thinking, he took off running the way he had come, swatting away tangled vines and branches to make a path. His heart raced as he stumbled over the slippery roots that covered the floor. He didn’t dare to stop or turn and look, but instead kept pushing his body further and faster.

     Behind him, the two barbarians grunted in frustration as they chased after him. It sounded like they were falling back. But then a strange buzzing sound erupted from behind Xander, and a fiery ball of energy whizzed right past his face.

     The fireball connected with a cluster of tree roots ahead of him and exploded into a blinding show of white-and-orange light, knocking him off his feet.

     What the hell was that?

     On the ground, he curled into a ball and covered his head, waiting for another explosion. But when nothing happened, he turned back to look. The two barbarians wrestled their way through the jungle mess, grunting and gargling as they went.

     Xander got back to his feet and took off faster than before, fear kissing at his heels. He ran through the jungle with no idea where he was headed.

     Another buzzing hum came from behind him, but this time, it was different. There was no fiery whizz of energy and no explosion of blinding light, but instead, a yellow shockwave wrapped around him like a blanket and absorbed into his body. His muscles froze, his thoughts stopped, and his body fell to the ground, paralyzed with rattling electricity.

     He tried to move, but he couldn’t. He tried to remove the electric shock somehow, but he couldn’t. There was nothing he could do. A helpless terror consumed him.

     The two barbarians emerged from the vegetation and grabbed him, shoving his face into the ground. Dried leaves and sticks cut into his face. He tried to yell, but they only shoved his face down harder.

     “You fool,” the shorter one said. “Thought you could get away from us?”

     The other barbarian quickly wrapped a cord around Xander’s wrists. As the shockwave wore off, thoughts slowly returned to his mind. First, there was fear, then there was confusion.

     He thrashed under the strength of his two captors, loosening the cords momentarily, creating an opportunity for escape. The smaller barbarian jumped into the air and came down hard on his back. “Oof!”

     “Did you hear that, Arnok?”

     The other mangled barbarian laughed and put a firm hand on Xander’s shoulder, shaking him. “You just earned a nickname, Oof.”

     They grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him upright. He squinted as leaves and broken twigs fell from his hair and onto his face. An intense soreness erupted down his back. He felt dizzy and sick, like he could pass out at any moment.

     “Look at him, Ruuk!” the one named Arnok said. “Look at his clothes—look at how clean he is.”

     “We ought to take care of that, don’t you think?”

     They both nodded to one another, then shoved Xander into a mud basin. A thick, dense sludge encased his face and body, disabling him even more. His eyes and mouth were almost completely covered, and he could hardly breathe. He struggled to move, like he had been buried alive.

     “That’s more like it,” Ruuk said. He turned to Arnok. “What should we do with him now?”

     “Let’s take him to Base Camp. Take him to Kauz.”

     “Do you think he could be one of them?”

     “Maybe so. Kauz will know.”

     Arnok pulled Xander out of the mud basin with one arm, then pushed him forward with the other, indicating that he should walk. He put one foot in front of the other, taking slow and measured steps. But the barbarians were cruel and nudged him to walk faster. This only caused him to stumble and fall repeatedly, and each time he fell, the pain in his back reignited like a raging fire.

     They journeyed through the jungle for what felt like hours. At one point, the one named Ruuk took the lead, and Xander noticed the barbarian had an octagonal apparatus with a pump strapped to his back. Next to it was a large, glowing sword. It vibrated with a red-hot, energetic power.

# # #

A while later, noise and commotion came from up ahead. Xander clenched his jaw, unsure of what he was about to walk into. They turned a corner around some tall trees, and the scene came into view.

     It was a large encampment, stretched out over a massive area, comprised of stone buildings with a strange, sharp and pointy architecture, sprouting from the ground like weeds. The structures looked like relics of an ancient civilization, yet displayed the precision of advanced building techniques. Veins of metal wiring were strewn along the ridges, pulsating with a faint orange-red light.

     Beyond the camp, a small volcanic cone frothed and ejected clouds of smoke. More stone structures were built right into the sides of it, cascading down the face in a zigzag pattern. A stream of lava rushed down from the crater at the top and funneled through carved rock channels. At the base, in the direct center of the encampment, was a boiling pool of lava. It bubbled and exuded streams of hot gas. Xander wondered if the entire camp was built on top of a magma reservoir, and if so, then whose bright idea was that?

     Spread out over the glowing lake were stone bridges, among other makeshift structures, hoisted right above the magma pool, far too close for comfort.

     More barbarian people were everywhere, all dressed similarly to the barbarians who captured Xander. They were unruly and bizarre, running around the camp like banshees. There were others too, their frail bodies exposed to the intense binary starlight and their faces obscured beneath veils of cloth. These people carried materials around the camp as the barbarians teased and taunted them.

     Xander’s captors led him to an area on the left side of the camp, a town square of sorts, encompassed by more stone structures and dense, infrequent groups of trees. The ground was littered with trash and piles of burning debris, and the smell was unbearable, like a mix of sulfur and rotting flesh.

     They led him into a rectangular structure, only about a single story high, but irregularly shaped. Inside was a corridor lined with prison cells, each filled with helpless figures reaching out. Down the middle stood a line of barbarian guards.

     Arnok shoved Xander into a cell at the end of the prison corridor. Still disabled, he fell to the ground. Dust and ash plumes rose into the air, and he coughed through the thickness. The barbarians slammed the gate behind him, and as it shut, the cords around his wrists suddenly uncoiled. Without hesitating, he charged at the gate.

     “Let me out of—”

     His voice and thoughts were cut short as his body ignited with the same electric shock as before. He fell back to the ground, surging in pain. The strange electric hum danced around the gate, glowing with the same red-hot energy as Ruuk’s sword.

     He stood again, keeping his distance from the gate this time. “It’s not real. This is a dream.”

     “A dream?” Ruuk asked, laughing. “How about we make it a nightmare?”

     “Enough,” Arnok barked. “Kauz will want to see him.”

     Ruuk rolled his sunken eyes and grunted. “Kauz this, Kauz that.”

     “You can’t keep me in here,” Xander said. “Please! Let me out!”

     The barbarian guards roared with laughter. Some fell over and kicked their feet up into the air, cheering and chanting. All at once, they started pushing each other. The tension escalated quickly, and some threw punches. In the fuss, a weaker barbarian fell to the ground.

     It was a frenzy. Guided by some irresistible desire, they teamed up on the weakling and beat him to a pulp. Blood streamed down his scar-covered face, and even still, the defeated barbarian raised one arm and cheered. Maddening howls erupted in the corridor.

     “That’ll be you soon, Oof!” Ruuk said, pointing at Xander.

     The two barbarians who captured him mimicked the way he had said “Oof,” and the entire prison chimed in like a choir. “Oof! Oof! Oof!”

     Xander watched them carefully, perplexed by their motives. They seemed driven by violence. But how could they thrive with this brutality?

     A barbarian guard near the cell seemed to remove his own scar-mangled face, but then Xander realized it was not a face at all, but a helmet. The grotesque helmet was connected to the geometric apparatus on his back, potentially serving as a respirator. Without it, the barbarian had a round head, sunken eyes, and a smushed nose, all covered with ash and dirt.

     They’re human?

     He stepped backward into the prison cell and steadied himself against the rock wall. With each passing moment, this place just got weirder.

     That was when he noticed someone else in the cell with him. In the back, there was a boy pressed into the corner, trembling. At first, Xander looked away, but then he thought the boy might help him. “Hello?”

     The boy lifted his head. His blonde hair was matted, and his face was also covered in dried mud and cuts. He made brief eye contact, his green eyes flashing in the dimly lit cell. Without making a sound, he buried his face deeper into his crossed arms and continued to tremble.

     “Hello?” Xander asked again. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

     He didn’t respond.

     “Please. What’s going on here? Where are we?”

     “Too many questions,” he said.

     “If I knew what the hell was going on, then maybe I could get us out of here.”

     He looked up and laughed hysterically. “Don’t you realize? We’re never getting out of here.”

     “There must be a way.”

     “You don’t understand.” He turned away again and contracted into himself more. “We’re done for.”

     Xander peered back at the shimmering red-hot gate, buzzing with electric fire. Beyond the gate, he watched as the guards continued to chant and fight. There was something strange about this place, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The beach, the binary star, the jungle, the strange animals, the barbarians, and now this camp. None of it made any sense, and yet, here it was.

     “This is a dream.” He looked down at his hand and pinched the skin on top. “Come on. Wake up. I’ll wake any minute now.”

     When nothing happened, he sighed and sat back against the irregularly grooved cell wall. He took a moment to find a position that wasn’t necessarily comfortable, but suitable enough for sleep. He closed his eyes.

     It’s just a dream. Wake up. Come on. Wake up . . . Wake . . . up . . .

     Soon enough, he drifted off into a strange abyss, and the prison cell, the unruly barbarians, and the boy all faded away.

Next Chapter:

Chapter 3 - Strange Dream

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