4 teenagers embark on a mystical journey and encounter strange gods. Nanowrimo 2011 Novel.
|Joshua clutched the tome when he ran. Like the others, he barely paid any attention to his surroundings before his legs took flight. However, the possession of the book comforted him.
He opened the book and frowned at the new images on the first page. All the pages told a story he remembered reading when he and the others were studying the book. But now, alone and no one to challenge his ideas, Joshua had no way of doublechecking and comparing his memories against someone else's.
He stared at the pages, especially the first, always asking himself, "Did the page really change? Did I just selectively read the book and just choose to tune out the other details?" Page One had a wishing well that was too visible to overlook unless he'd been distracted.
He skimmed the other pages. Every one of them showed a wishing well. However, the color seemed to vary as well as the shape and design. "Probably not the same well," Joshua mumbled.
Kevin's bridge was still there, but seemed to be closer to the man and his inverted reflection.
"Have to cross the bridge to get to the wishing well."
"Have to stay out of the grass to avoid the snakes."
"Have to ..." The list went on.
He would have kept the book open but his eyes grew tired and something of an ache bit him within his head, making him want to close his eyes, which he did. Slowly the intervals between studying the pages and resting his eyes grew longer and longer, until he winced.
Although he stopped staring at the pictures, the items the map revealed themselves slowly. Some sort of a pattern emerged. With a shock, he opened his eyes. The ache gone from his eyes and his head, he stared at the first page and, literally, began to connect the dots. With a pencil that stowed itself at the very bottom of his book bag (which caused him some consternation when he had to empty his entire bag for one pencil), Joshua lightly scratched lines connecting various items together.
"Twelve bees, six flowers, two of which are buds and four of which have bees. Lots of grass underneath. A beehive up, up, up high."
"Twelve, six, four, two, one. One two equals twelve. Twelve. One, two, four, six can go into twelve. But so can three but three's not a number here. All even except for one. This isn't a math problem. Or is it?"
"The bees have no stripes. Zero or one? Zero? Just black bellies and yellow heads."
Joshua sighed. Possibly he imagined all the connections. "Try another tack," he told himself. "Have to find the others, no matter what."
"Four of us. Four bees. Four big flowers. Four way split from the main road. Four way split ..."
Joshua was thrilled he kept the book. There he stood, a tiny little bee on the blue flower. He knew that was his bee. It was the only one carrying pollen: the book. The other two bees were at the same row of flowers. The third one was at the lower row. All the bees faced themselves towards the right, which meant, they faced the man and his reflection. The bees faced the statue.
"Can't be. We left, running for our lives. Why would we look at the statue?"
Joshua slowly raised his eyes from the book. A terrible fear gripped his heart as he lifted his head to look into the darkness.
"Am I facing the statue?" he wondered. "Is he walking to me now?"