Tranquil Fury Page 2

  John looked at Eric, “We need something to keep them warm. Do you think you could cut the fabric off some of the other seats? So we can use them as blankets.”

  Lauren walked over to John, and handed him a bottle of water, “Here, have a drink.”

  “No, we should collect all the food and water. Put it into a community pool. We may need to ration it, until we can find…” John stopped, scanned the grasslands from horizon to horizon, there was nothing in sight, “We really need to ration everything we have.”

  Lauren persisted, “Look, with this heat, and how hard you have been working, you are not thinking smart. We can’t afford to have you pass out from heat exhaustion. Please take a drink.”

  John knew she was right, and took a big gulp of water, spilling some onto his shirt. That was when he saw his broken glasses, with the big round frames in his pocket. He immediately recalled his mother and father, tears forming in his eyes.

  “John, it will be okay.” While Lauren tried to reassure him, her trembling voice lacked the necessary conviction.

  Eric returned with the seat covers, and laid them on top of Ryan and Zack, and Logan had brought back some wood that had fallen off the tunnel roof. Eric walked by John, and held out his hand, “Here I found these. You might need them.” It was a pair of his regular eyeglasses, the same pair that had ‘disappeared’ the week before. Eric then went over to Zack, rifled through his pockets, looking for his lighter, and once he found it, he tossed it to Logan, who was gathering some dried grass.

  With a small fire going, everybody gathered around it, and after several minutes of silence, Eric finally spoke, “Anybody have any idea what happened?” Logan, Lauren, and John were all quiet. Eric repeated the question, “Anybody? Where are we? What should we do?”

  His head bent forward, John stared at the grass, yet he felt everybody’s eyes on him. Looking up, he was unsure of what to say. What the hell? Uninhabited grasslands, three suns in the sky, this is not Earth. What can I say that will make any sense of this? Limited water and food, two injured. John gathered his thoughts, “My best guess? That accident opened up some sort of wormhole. When it formed, it consumed everything in its area of effect, the bus, tunnel, and even the mountain, pulled it all through, and then brought it here. I know that seems ridiculous, but those three suns in the sky, they are all the evidence I need. We are not on Earth. As for where this is, I have no idea. I don’t even think we are in our own solar system.”

  “How the hell could that happen,” asked Eric?

  John shook his head, “I don’t know. I really do not know. The theory behind a wormhole usually involves a massive amount of focused energy generated by a dying star. But there is no other explanation as to how we travelled from there to here.”

  “John, how do we get back,” asked Lauren?

  “Get back?” John wiped a tear from his eye, “We don’t. Not unless we can find somebody who has interstellar space travel capabilities. You can check around that mountain and tunnel if you want. See if you can find a pair of ruby slippers sticking out from under it. If you do, we simply put them on, and wish our way back home. I hate to be the one to break this to all of you, but getting back is not an option. Without space travel—or, maybe another wormhole, we would need an amazing magic trick. Hell, even then it could take forever to find our solar system.”

  Lauren cupped her face in her hands, hoping that if nobody else could see the tears forming, that they would go away.

  Logan looked at John, “There must be somebody here who can help us?”

  “Those possibilities are limitless. We could be the only people on this planet. On the other hand, bloodthirsty savages could occupy it. If anybody or anything lives here, I doubt that it is a post-industrial age. The skies are clear, and there are no signs of vapor trails left by jets.”

  “Could there be aliens here?” Logan asked with an odd expression on his face.

  “Aliens, monsters, nobody, I really have no idea,” replied John.

  Eric got up and scanned the horizon, hoping to see somebody or something. It had not changed from the last time he looked, “Then what do we do?”

  John replied, “We either wait here, or we go looking for somebody. All of the rescue books would say that we should stay at the scene of the accident. However, those first responders are back home, in what is left of that tunnel. I don’t think they will find us here.”

  Between sobs, Lauren managed to eke out, “I don’t want to be here!”

  Frustration and shock began to gnaw at each of them. Eric looked at Lauren, “Call your mother, have her come, and pick you up.”

  That was the last straw for Lauren. With tears streaming down her face, she got up and headed to the bus, crying louder as she got farther away.

  Logan had a stunned look on his face, “You don’t have to be a bastard Eric.”

  “I’ll apologize when we get home.”

  Logan headed off to comfort Lauren, but was unclear how he was going to do it.

  Eric looked at John, “Then we build a signal fire?”

  “Do whatever you want Eric.”

  “Look, we need to figure out a plan. Don’t you go having a hissy fit on me as well.”

  “We don’t have enough wood for a fire. And even if we did, I don’t know if there is anybody to see it,” replied John.

  “Then we need to find them. Which way should we go?”

  “I have no idea. If you wanted to do that, then you should head into one of the sunsets or sunrises. The climate going north would get colder, decreasing the chances of finding a wide population of people. On the other hand, heading south would result in warmer weather. On Earth, warmer climates are typically more populated, but here, it increases the chances of us stumbling into a desert or wasteland. However, by the looks of it, this land is so incredibly flat, and with no landmarks to focus on, you could spend days just wandering. And how would we carry Zack and Ryan?”

  Eric was getting discouraged, “What if I head out by myself, try to find somebody and bring them back here?” He looked up into the sky, “Which sun should I follow?”

  “Take your pick. I have no idea.”

  “John, we need to do something. I’ll go and find somebody to help.”

  “In three days without water, your body will start to die. If you should find water, or get some moisture by eating grass, or something similar, you would have less than three weeks to find somebody before your body begins to consume itself. You would be able to travel about 500 miles if you’re lucky, assuming that you don’t get lost. And of course, even if you were to find somebody, by the time you got back here, we would all probably be dead.”

  Eric began to get increasingly apprehensive, “Well then what do we do?”

  John continued to wipe more tears from his eyes, “Eric, I don’t know what the right answer is. I only know what happens if we do something wrong.”

  “We have to do something…” Eric kicked the ground in frustration, and headed towards the bus, leaving John to contemplate on his own, and when Eric reached the tunnel, he immediately began to climb the side of the mountain. John began to think of his mother and father at home, wondering what had happened. Sitting at the kitchen table not knowing if their son was killed, was abducted or something else, and started to cry uncontrollably.

  The first sun set an hour later, the twins returned to the dwindling fire with more wood, and their backpacks. Lauren took a seat next to John, and proceeded to wrap her arm around him. Her eyes swollen, she pointed to Eric in the distance, “There must be some irony in that? Mount Eric is climbing a mountain?”

  John wiped his nose with the back of his hand, “He will probably fall off, and I will have to glue him back together.”

  After Logan had built up the fire, he pulled out two sandwiches from his backpack, which he then offered to them. John considered launching into the ration speech again, but was too hungry and accepted the offer.

  “John. Is it really as bad as
I think it is,” asked Lauren?

  Before John could answer, they heard rocks sliding off the mountain, bouncing off of the metal tunnel. Eric came rushing after them, sliding down, pointing to the south. They all stood up and glanced behind them, and in the distance, they could see something heading towards them.

  It took Eric thirty minutes to rejoin the group, “Logan, Lauren, hide in the grass beside Zack and Ryan. If they make any noise, cover their mouths. John, you and I are going to do the talking. Give me that knife-tool thing, just in case.”

  The four foot, ten inches of John, looked up to Eric, “What am I supposed to do?”

  Eric replied, “I may not be the smartest in the group, but I do understand teams. Until we get out of this, we need to deploy our best offensive line, according to what we are facing.” They started to walk across the grasslands, but John kept a few steps back, hoping that if anything bad happened, he could outrun the giant, whose shadow he now walked in.

  Chapter 3

  Eric and John stopped on top of a small hill and waited, for what looked like an unimpressive, buckboard-style wagon to arrive. As they did, Eric pulled a quarter out of his pocket, “Heads he is an alien, tails he is being chased by aliens.”

  John looked up at him, “Isn’t there a third choice?”

  Eric flipped the coin, and they watched it spin in the air, fall to the ground, where it landed on its edge, in a small mound of soft dirt. Their gaze shifted with apprehension, from the coin to the wagon. As it inched closer, the two could see that six-legged oxen pulled the wagon, and fears of aliens began to materialize in their thoughts. As the distance to the wagon decreased, they saw a plain, young looking man with a heavy beard perched on the seat, clad in ordinary clothes and a black robe. Both were relieved to see a bipedal figure on the seat, though the six-legged oxen still did cause them some concern. The traveler yanked on the reins, halting the beasts in their tracks, and stepped from the wagon. On approach, he made a hand gesture to the boys, and began to speak an indecipherable language.

  Eric looked at the stranger, then back to John. “Do you know what he is saying?”

  John replied, “I have no idea.” The stranger stopped, made a different gesture, and started talking again.

  Eric mumbled to John, “I know you're good with numbers, but haven’t you studied any languages?”

  “I speak a few different ones. Let me try.” English, Italian, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, and German all failed to start a conversation. Not even Latin or Klingon managed to yield any results.

  “Was that last one Klingon?”

  John nodded.

  Eric rolled his eyes, “So how long is it going to take you to either learn his language, or teach him ours?”

  At John had been talking to the stranger, he had pulled out a small jar from his robe, and applied its contents to his ears and lips, “That will not be necessary,” he blurted out in perfect English.

  They both turned their heads to the stranger, and in unison said, “Pardon?”

  “My name is Mirtza. I was wondering if I could be of assistance.”

  John spoke first, “You speak English?”

  “No, here take this ointment, and spread some on your ears like this.” Mirtza dipped his finger into the small jar, and wiped it on the back and front of his ear, “Then wipe some on your lips and throat like this.”

  Eric looked perplexed, “What does it do?”

  “It has special properties. It changes sounds that you hear into words that you know, or sounds that you make into words that others know.”

  “Bullshit!” Eric exclaimed.

  Mirtza shook his head, “No, I can assure you there is no cow excrement in the jar. Look, it is apparent that you are not from here. This ointment was developed so different people could communicate easily. I assume that it will be quicker than teaching me this Cling-on that you speak. This is a large land inhabited by different types, and we do not all speak the same tongue.”

  John had a puzzled look on his face, “How can that be?”

  Mirtza reply was simple, “It is magic.”

  Eric became annoyed, “There is no such thing as magic. What is going on here?”

  Mirtza developed a very stern look on his face, “Look, I am unsure of the ointment’s precise magical properties, but they will make communication between us much easier.”

  Eric looked down at John, “You first.”

  “Why me?”

  “If something happens to you, I can carry you back. Can you carry me?”

  John stepped forward to receive the small ceramic jar, and applied some as instructed, looked up at Eric, “Now what?”

  Eric had recognized the Klingon speech from the TV shows, “I don’t know. Say something in Klingon.”

  John replied in Klingon, “Well not very good, only learn to please father.”

  “I told you to say something in Klingon.”

  “I just did!”

  “Well, I guess it works. How do you feel?”

  “Everything seems fine,” John replied, in Latin, and Eric did not blink an eye.

  “I know this may be a lot to grasp, but right now you need to trust me.” Mirtza added, “As much as this place may look safe, I can assure you that it is not. We must move.”

  John seemed rattled by the news, “Where are we?”

  “These lands are part of Calicon. We are currently in what is called the Newlands.”

  Eric looked at Mirtza, “Where is this world?”

  “I do not understand your question. But from the appearance of your clothing and features, I would guess you are not from here.”

  Eric repeated his question, “Where are we?”

  “Look, my young friend, we are in the Newlands of Calicon. I do not know what else I can tell you.”

  “Who would name something Newlands?”

  John turned to Eric, “Canada has a province call Newfoundland. New. Found. Land.”

  “What’s Canada,” asked Eric?

  “Would you like some help or not?” Mirtza inquired.

  Eric said “No.”

  John said “Yes.”

  “So then you would like some help?” replied Mirtza.

  John cupped his hand to the side of his mouth, and looked up to Eric, “We need help. Ryan and Zack need medical attention. We need food and water. Let’s just see if we can get a ride somewhere?”

  Eric looked over at Mirtza, “We have four friends with us, and two of them are hurt. Can you still help?”

  “Jump in, and we shall see.”

  “That’s okay, we will walk,” replied Eric.

  Mirtza jumped back into the wagon, gave the reins of the oxen a tug, and headed towards the strange site. As they followed cautiously alongside, Eric called out to the twins, “Lauren! Logan! This is Mirtza, and he has offered to help.”

  The siblings approached with equal amounts of caution and curiosity, Logan clenching a piece of dried wood like a club.

  Without exchanging introductions, Mirtza jumped from the wagon, and raced over to Ryan. As he knelt over the body, Eric’s looming shadow hovered above.

  “Your friend is in a great deal of pain.” He pivoted and looked at Zack, “This one also has serious injuries. I have some medicines that should provide them with relief from the pain.” With that, Mirtza headed back to his wagon.

  Lauren was surprised, “This is great, he speaks English.”

  “I’ll explain that later,” advised Eric.

  Mirtza returned with a bag, began to rummage through its contents, pulling out three ceramic vials, and again knelt down next to Ryan.

  “Whoa! What are you doing?” shouted Eric.

  “These will help your friends to rest and assist with their healing. Please, trust me. I mean you no harm.” When Eric did not make any signs to stop him, Mirtza placed a few drops of the first vial into Ryan’s mouth, and then from the second, he pulled a berry and crushed it over Ryan’s upper lip. A third vial contained a liquid, which M
irtza administered to Ryan’s eyes. He then moved over to Zack, and repeated the procedure, as the others formed a circle a short distance away.

  Lauren looked up at Eric, “Is this the right thing to be doing? Can we trust him?”

  “Right now, I don’t know if we have any choice,” advised John.

  Mirtza retrieved some blankets from his wagon, and placed them on Ryan and Zack, “We should really get out of here. This place may not be safe.”

  Logan looked at Mirtza, “What do you mean?”

  “I used to live in this area several years ago. I have just spent the last three months travelling from the south. Every village and town that I came across was deserted. Something is happening in the Newlands. What, I cannot say.”

  “What do you mean,” asked Eric?

  “Every place in which I should have found people, I only found deserted buildings. I really cannot answer your questions, because I have found none to answer mine. I think it would be best if we left these grasslands, and your friends need healing that is beyond my abilities.”

  Lauren looked to her group, “I don’t like this. It seems too good to be true. You know what happens in horror movies, when the stranded kids get into the first car that stops for them. He could be lying about nobody else being around.”

  “I disagree. It’s four against one,” replied Eric, “If a larger group arrived, we would not be able to defend ourselves. But right now, we have the advantage of numbers.”

  John nodded in agreement, “Eric is right.”

  Mirtza overheard the last comments, “If you wish to stay, then stay. I can leave you a couple of water skins and some blankets. I can also leave you a shovel.”

  “Why would we need a shovel,” asked Lauren?

  “So in a few days, you can bury your friends.”

  John looked down at Ryan, “He has lost a lot of blood. We need to get him to a doctor.”

  Lauren looked at Mirtza, “I don’t understand why this place is not safe?”

  “Dozens of towns and villages deserted. My old village is a four-day ride to the south. My family, friends that I have known all my life are gone. Nothing to suggest what happened. Or why.” Just those damn plague posters. Mirtza continued, “Does this sound like a safe spot to you? Look, I will get you to some healers. They will be able to help your friends, and then you can do what you want. If you wish to stay, it is of no matter to me. Your silent friends may not agree with that, but their choice to live is in your hands.”