Chapter 4 - Escape Plan

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Xander’s mind floated in the formless space between waking and dreaming. In this state of nonexistence, he found momentary peace. But then, memories and thoughts fluttered through his head one by one.

Bodily sensations returned as textures materialized around him. A deep soreness spread down his lower back, and a sharp sting erupted across his face. He couldn’t recall why he was in such discomfort, but as the pain became unbearable, his eyes shot open.

     He saw a stone ceiling above him, then noticed the ash-covered walls of the barbarian prison cell. He was back.

     Holy hell. Not again.

     Panic seized him. His eyes darted back and forth as he fixated on the strange red-hot gate that hummed with electricity. How was this possible? How was he back in the same dream?

     He stood slowly and dusted himself off. Beyond the limits of the cell, the prison corridor was quiet, sustained in an eerie stillness. Everything appeared exactly as it did in the previous dream. His heart beat a few pulses faster. He tried to make sense of what was happening to him. What was happening to him?

     Returning his focus back to the cell, he remembered that he wasn’t alone. The boy was still there, slumped into the corner in an uncomfortable-looking position. He looked even more fragile now, asleep and vulnerable.

     Above where he slept was an opening in the wall, a narrow gap just wide enough for Xander to poke his head through. He stepped carefully around the sleeping boy, then peered outside.

     Through the wall, he could make out the town square, strewn with trash and smoldering mounds of debris. Thin streams of smoke rose from the piles, merging with a larger cloud of smog that hovered over the camp. In the sky, bands of red-and-orange light stretched out as the twin suns rose together over the horizon, like two sisters reluctant to share the spotlight.

     Xander realized that time had progressed forward here, as if he had been asleep and a full night had passed. His heart pulsed again.

     What is this? A continuous dream? I’ve never known anything like it. But . . . how is this even possible?

     Then the ground trembled.

     What began as a distant tone quickly intensified into a piercing shriek. The walls of the cell shook as the noise grew louder and the air became thick with ash. Xander covered his nose with his t-shirt to avoid inhaling the cloud, but his efforts were futile.

     The boy, now visibly awake, clung to the wall for support. Surprisingly, he seemed to be untroubled by the racket and the burnt taste in the air.

     “What—” Xander’s voice caught on the thickness. “What is that?”

     His question was met with more noise. Cheers broke out from inside the prison chamber as the barbarians stirred awake. Some slept through the disturbance, seeming as unbothered as the boy. The ones who were awake kicked and tormented the sleepers until the entire camp was alive with activity.

     The tremors escalated into what felt like an earthquake, until Xander was sure that the entire prison would come crumbling down at any moment. He covered his ears and looked through the gap in the wall. The piercing sound, like heavy grinding machinery, came from somewhere in the sky. His eyes traced the noise to its source, then he saw it.

     From over the tree canopy, a bizarre-looking object approached the camp. It was octahedral in form, like two small pyramids fused together base to base. It had no wings and no obvious mechanics for propulsion, yet it descended toward the camp with an unnatural smoothness, possibly suspended by some magnetic force.

     A triangular anchor shot down from the bottom of the object and pierced the ground, stirring up an ash cloud. The anchor drilled deep into the soil until everything came to a halt. The noise and tremors subsided almost instantly.

     Steam ejected from the seams of the floating craft as it remained motionless about fifteen feet above the ground. Then a giant door opened on one side, revealing a red glowing interior. A crowd of barbarians and slaves gathered underneath it as a metal plank extended down from the opening. Once it touched the ground, more barbarians emerged from the ship, all wearing their scar-tissue helmets and covered head-to-toe in ash.

     A broad-shouldered barbarian, whose attire set him apart from the rest, led the procession. He was dressed in blackened armor streaked with veins of red light, and a contraption was strapped over his right eye. Xander looked closer and saw it was a mechanical eye with a red laser.

     “That must be their leader,” he said to himself.

     “That’s Kauz.” The boy now stood next to Xander and looked through the gap with him.      “He’s in charge here.”

     Xander turned to face him. “What are they doing here?”

     “Building something, I think, but I don’t know what.”

     They watched as slaves carried crates of supplies, spools of wire, blocks of stone, and other construction materials. Another important-looking barbarian, wearing an ornate metal helmet and a dark cloak stitched with patterns of flames, went down the plank walkway.

     “Who is that?” Xander asked.

     “That’s Makom—a council member directly from Volkanik.”

     “‘Volkanik?’”

     “It’s their capital city, somewhere in the desert. This is only an outpost camp.”

     Xander became dizzy at the new information. “How do you know any of this?”

     “I’ve never been there, of course, but I’ve been here a long time and overheard plenty.” He moved away from the gap and returned to his spot in the corner, pushed his blonde hair aside, then looked at Xander. “You seemed to sleep through your first night, despite all the commotion.”

     “I wasn’t here—I mean, I wasn’t aware there was commotion.”

     He sharpened his eyes on Xander, examining his tattered t-shirt and mud-stained shorts. “How’d you get here, anyway? Your clothes are . . . strange.”

     “They caught me in the jungle and brought me here.”

     “Me too,” he said. “But where did you come from?”

     Xander paused, struck by this question. He revisited the facts that he knew. If this truly was a dream, then that meant he was asleep in his bed at home, in Astor, on Earth. But that was an answer the boy might not understand. So instead, he said, “I came from the beach and took shelter in the jungle. That’s where they found me. I tried to run, but it was useless.”

     “It’s over once they see you. We’re lucky they haven’t decided to get rid of us yet.” He gestured through the gap in the wall at a blazing pile of debris.

     “Are those . . . bodies?”

     He nodded dryly. “And anything else they’ve decided to get rid of. Prisoners. Slaves. Even their own kind. There aren’t many rules when it comes to the Korvok.”

     “‘The Korvok?’”

     “Yeah. Those savages out there.” His emerald eyes fixated on Xander again. “You don’t know much, do you?”

     “I’m not from around here.”

     “Me neither, but even I knew about the Korvok. Of all the things I’ve seen up here—”

     “‘Up here?’”

     “I mean—in the jungle.” His eyes flashed downward.

     Xander became skeptical. His cellmate didn’t look like a barbarian, but there was no way to know for sure. “If those people out there are the Korvok, then what does that make you?”

     “I’m not one of them.”

     “Then who are you?”

     “I’m—” He looked flustered. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

     “We have that in common. Maybe we can help each other. My name is Xander. What’s yours?”

     He breathed hard. “I can’t tell you.”

     The shrill sound of the Korvok ship echoed through the prison corridor again. Xander sat on the ground and covered his ears. The violent shaking soon followed. He watched as the geometric ship retracted its anchor and floated up into the sky.

     The cheers resumed. Barbarians heckled the slaves as they distributed the newly dropped supply crates. Gargling sounds turned into voices as they approached the prison cell. The two barbarians from the day before, Arnok and Ruuk, came down the corridor. They each had a glowing sword now, clanging them on the red-hot gate as they arrived.

     “Wakey, wakey, little weaklings,” Ruuk said. “Both of you will make great fire fuel.”

     “Quiet,” Arnok said. “There are plans for these two.”

     Xander glared at the barbarians. The pain they had inflicted on him surged down his back, suppressing all feelings of fear that he should have of them. The boy remained silent in the corner, not acknowledging them.

     Arnok pointed at him. “You there, in the corner. Get up when we speak to you.”

     The words were hardly distinguishable beneath the grotesque breathing helmet, wrapped in what looked like dried flesh. Xander wondered if it was the barbarian’s own skin—or the skin of his slain enemies.

     The boy remained motionless on the floor, as if he’d fallen back asleep. Xander walked over to him and touched his shoulder. “We should do what they—”

     “Get off me!” He pushed Xander hard, causing him to fall onto his back, sending a cloud of ash swirling around him. The pain in his back reignited like wildfire.

     The two barbarians couldn’t contain their laughter. “We’ll deal with him later,” Arnok said. “Let’s go, Oof. There’s someone we’d like you to meet.”

     Xander approached the gate, hands in the air, to prove his willingness to comply. Arnok pressed a button on a panel attached to the outside of the cell. The gate disengaged and swung open. The two barbarians rushed in and pinned Xander against the wall. They tied his hands and dragged him out.

     They took him down the corridor and out into the town square. Slaves rummaged around the supply crates, all covered in boils from the sweltering binary starlight. One slave, with gray eyes and clearly much older than the others, looked right at Xander as they passed by.

     They went across the network of stone bridges that spanned the chasm of lava, heading toward the tallest structure at the base of the volcanic cone. The outside of this building looked ancient, covered in a layer of white ash. But after passing under an arched entrance, the interior was devoid of any trash or filth. Xander presumed few barbarians were allowed in here.

     Arnok and Ruuk led him down dark passageways forged from volcanic rock, crisscrossing and zigzagging until he was unsure of where they were. Then they arrived at a metal door without a handle or any clear way of opening it.

     “He said to meet here, right?” Ruuk looked down the passageway nervously, then back at Arnok. “This place gives me the creeps.”

     “He asked to see the new prisoner,” Arnok said. “Do you ever listen?”

     Ruuk huffed, then grunted. “We better get a decent reward for this.”

     “A reward?” Arnok turned to his companion. “Is that what you think this is about?”

     “It’s not?”

     “No, you fool. It’s about keeping our place at Base Camp. We’d be lucky if he lets us stay, even after this.”

     Then, with no warning, the metal door rose upwards and revealed a vast stone chamber. Light shone through circular holes in the ceiling, casting orbs of light on the floor. Toward the back, a small pool of lava collected in a large divot. The heat inside the chamber was intense, much hotter than under the binary starlight. It was like these people couldn’t feel it.

     Arnok and Ruuk removed their helmets. They turned to Xander. He looked back at them, startled to see the faces behind the masks. Arnok had a rugged face with a bold jawline, and Ruuk’s face was malnourished, his cheekbones nearly visible. They were both smirking at him.

     Suddenly, Xander’s throat became violently irritated. There was a metallic taste in the air, like rust and burnt copper. It made his mouth feel numb, and his throat feel fuzzy. He breathed in and out a few times to clear the sensation, but that only made him cough.

     “Looks like Oof can’t breathe our air,” Arnok said.

     Xander tried to protest, but he couldn’t produce words. His mouth and throat felt like sandpaper.

     “Come in,” a voice called from deep within the chamber.

     The two barbarians carried Xander inside, where more barbarians stood, like a wall. These differed from his captors. They were much taller and more muscular, as if could easily overpower their counterparts. Their mouths were covered with a mechanical device, disabling them from speaking.

     Beyond the line of guards was a large stone table covered in virtual displays. An assortment of neon-orange information ebbed and flowed like water in front of the barbarian with the mechanical eye.

     Kauz.

     The barbarian leader analyzed the information before him, toying with it like pieces of clay. He grabbed a virtual section and tossed it to the other end of the table, where it connected with another data set. The merged set of numbers glowed, and the resulting data shifted, highlighting the changes in red. Kauz worked unbothered, not acknowledging the newly arrived party.

     “Sir.” Arnok broke the silence. “We brought you the new prisoner. Look at him. Look at how clean and unnatural he is.”

     The barbarian stopped his work and turned to face them. His good eye looked first, followed by the red laser from his mechanical eye. He approached Xander and shooed away the wall of guards. “I’m Kauz, construction leader here at Base Camp. And who might you be?”

     Xander couldn’t speak. It now felt like someone had poured a bucket of broken needles down his throat. He only coughed and wheezed.

     “Can’t you talk?” Kauz asked.

     Xander regained himself through half-breaths. “I can’t . . . breathe.”

     “Oh, please. Get him some water.”

     Ruuk rushed to a basin nearby and brought Xander a palmful of water. At first, he resisted, unwilling to drink from the barbarian’s foul hand, but Ruuk pressed his palm to Xander’s mouth.

     He nearly choked at first, but swallowed some of the water. After a minute, the irritation subsided. “What . . . the hell . . . is in the air?”

     Kauz smiled. “Over the last few thousand years, our people have lived in a desert region shaped by several volcanoes. We have evolved to breathe the air provided by our unique geological location. Some call it toxic. Others say it is the very reason for our resilience.”

“Then why build out here in the jungle?”

     “Base Camp is but an extension of our capital city, Volkanik. We have taken an initiative to expand, made possible by this volcanic mound in the jungle. Once this camp is fully established, the jungle and her resources will be ours.” Kauz moved closer to Xander. “But on to more important matters. Where did you come from?”

     Xander hesitated. He didn’t think they would understand, so he said, “I’m not sure.”

     “Not sure?” The red light from Kauz’s mechanical eye flickered over Xander’s face. “My scan says otherwise. Lying won’t help you here. Try again.”

     “I came from the beach, beyond the jungle.”

     “Beyond the—” Kauz turned to Arnok and Ruuk. “What were you two doing beyond the jungle?”

     “We were—uh . . .” Arnok struggled to respond. “You sent us there, sir.”

     Kauz paused. “Ah, yes. A failed scouting mission. A wrecked vehicle. Two imbeciles. Yes, now I remember. I sent you out into the jungle to find something of value.”

     “Are you not satisfied with our find, sir?” Ruuk asked.

     Kauz turned back to Xander. “The beach beyond the jungle, eh? But where are you from?”

The words reverberated throughout the chamber, sending a chill down Xander’s back. “I—uh, I don’t know exactly.”

     “He’s not going to tell us.” Kauz grunted. “Do you know anything about a hidden city?”

“A hidden city? No, I don’t.”

     The barbarian leader leaned in close to Xander’s face as the red mechanical eye studied his micro-expressions.

     “Sir,” Ruuk said, “we saw him conspiring with the boy.”

     “The boy-child?” Kauz got even closer. “Do you know him?”

     “I don’t.”

     “Are you sure about that?”

     “I swear.”

     Kauz watched him closely for a few more moments, then turned away. The light from his laser eye light dimmed. “He’s just a stray. He doesn’t know anything.” The barbarian leader turned back to Xander’s captors and knocked them each over the head with a closed fist. “What is the meaning of this?”

     “We—”

     Kauz held a finger up to silence them.

     “Sir,” Ruuk continued, “we thought he might be—”

     “Enough! You’ve wasted my time, again. Get out of my sight before I formally banish you both!” He threw his hands into the air, then walked back over to his data table.

     Ruuk pushed even harder. “But, sir, he is not like the others—”

     “Out!” The word echoed around the party. They promptly turned and exited the chamber. As they left, Xander overheard Kauz muttering, “I should have killed those idiots when I had the chance. Blazing fools!”

     They went back through the maze of passageways, under the arched entrance, across the stone bridge, and into the prison chamber. As they entered the corridor of cells, Ruuk pushed Xander, knocking him to the ground. “You let us down, Oof.”

     Arnok yanked Ruuk back and pinned him against the corridor wall. “No, you let us down, you blathering fool! Why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut? This was supposed to set things straight with Kauz.”

     Arnok let go of Ruuk, then picked up Xander off the ground. The barbarian led him to the same cell as before and shoved him inside. The metal gate shut and reactivated with red-hot fiery energy.

     Ruuk ran up behind Arnok. “Don’t put this on me. You were the one who said—”

     “I’ve had enough of you,” Arnok barked, then he tackled the smaller barbarian to the ground. Punches were thrown. Xander wasn’t sure if they were play-fighting or if they were actually trying to kill each other. The two rolled around on the soot-covered floor until Ruuk stood up and dashed toward the exit. Arnok chased after him, grunting as he went.

     “What happened?” the boy asked.

     Xander didn’t know how to respond, so instead, he sat down on the floor and put his head in his hands.

     The boy walked up to the red-hot gate, then gazed into the corridor in what seemed like contemplation. “If I hadn’t been up here . . . they never would have caught me.”

     Xander’s ears perked up, but he remained quiet.

     “Father said it was dangerous,” he continued. “He tried to warn us . . . He said it was forbidden . . . He told us never to leave . . .” Tears streamed down his face as he lowered his head and sniffled.

     “Look,” Xander said. “I don’t know what happened to you before this or what those barbarians put you through, but it’s me and you against them now. If we stand any chance of getting out of here, we have to work together—”

     There was a gasp from beyond the gate, from somewhere in the corridor. “Kyro?”

     The boy glanced up, his eyes bloodshot and puffy. Outside the gate was an old slave, covered in gnarly boils and ashy rags. It was the same gray-eyed slave that Xander had seen earlier.

     “How do you know my name?” he asked.

     “Kyro? That is you, right?” The slave pretended to work by the gate. He faced away from them, but spoke into the cell.

     “Keep your voice down, please,” he said. “How do you know who I am?”

     “I am Wester Noke. I knew your father long before the Korvok built this camp in the jungle. He would be upset to learn that you are here.” The slave peered into the cell for a fraction of a second, then looked away. “How did you manage to get stuck here?”

     “I was captured. On the surface.”

     “Do you not know the dangers of the surface, child?”

     “I do now,” Kyro said, “but it’s too late.”

     “Not so,” Wester replied. “I can get you out of here.”

     “You can?”

     Xander stood. “How?”

     “Another supply ship will arrive before nightfall. When the noise peaks, I will deactivate the gate and set you free. The supply ship should provide a distraction for you to escape. I can only get you out of this cell. The rest is up to you.”

     Kyro shook his head. “No. They will kill you.”

     “I’ve grown old and weak—they’ll kill me soon anyway. Just promise to give your father my sympathies when you get back.”

     “That’s the least I can do.”

     “Very well,” Wester said. “When you hear the sound of the ship, you know what to do.”

# # #

The rest of the day dragged on as both Xander and Kyro waited in anticipation of the next Korvok supply ship. After countless hours of watching the vile barbarians torment the slaves, Xander had seen enough.

Right when he was about to give up, a loud rumbling noise came from far away. The sound grew intensely until the walls shook again and a cloud of ash filled the air once more. Then came the piercing shriek of the ship’s machinery.

The barbarian guards in the prison chamber vacated the corridor to meet the ship. Xander peeked through the gap in the wall and watched as another crowd gathered around the landing zone.

Suddenly, Wester appeared by the cell. The red-hot energy deactivated, then the gate swung open.

“Go! Now!” the old slave yelled over the blaring noise.

Xander grabbed Kyro. Together they ran out of the cell and down the corridor toward the exit. Without hesitation, they ran into the open town square area. Barbarians were everywhere. Some noticed them and cocked their heads. Standing by the prison entrance was Ruuk. “Huh? How did you get out here?”

The barbarian reached for a gun-like weapon by his hip and pointed it right at them. They would be blown to pieces this close. Right as Xander braced for death, Wester soared through the air and landed on top of Ruuk, taking him to the ground. “I said go! Run!”

They took off toward the tree line. Freedom was within reach. Panic and fear fueled their weary bodies. As they passed the tree line, a yellow shockwave of energy hurtled past them. Then another one came. This one curved around them and absorbed into Kyro’s body. The boy fell to the ground, paralyzed.

Xander dropped to help his fallen friend. Kyro’s body convulsed under the effects of the electric shock, but his fear-filled eyes remained locked on him.

He tried to lift the boy off the ground, but the moment his hands touched Kyro’s skin, the electric shock nearly jumped to him. He jerked back. The safety of the jungle was only a few paces away. They were so close. He tried to pick up Kyro again, but the electric jolt seized his muscles right away and he dropped him.

Xander peered back at the camp and saw Ruuk and a few more barbarians rushing their way. Beyond them, Wester lay lifeless on the ground. Panic and urgency consumed him. He had to act fast.

Desperately, he tried to drag the boy by his legs, but it was useless. The electric barrier had made any contact between them impossible.

I can’t leave him here like this . . . but in about twenty seconds we’ll both be dragged back into that prison. Maybe there’s still a chance . . . if I can find help . . .

“I can’t—” Xander’s voice broke. “I can’t do anything. I’m sorry.” His eyes met Kyro’s panicked eyes. “I’ll find help and come back. I promise, I’ll come back for you.”

Then he ran into the jungle, swatting away vines and branches. Explosions rang out behind him. As he fled from the chaos, he turned to look back. His head collided with a thick branch, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Darkness enveloped Xander, and his mind drifted away from this place.

Next Chapter:

Coming Soon

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