The Axis

Chapter 1

Kodiak Graham; the name inscribed on the tag inside the gray jacket of a boy who walked home after school one cool, September day. He trudged down the dirt road that lay between the town of Holwell and the Grahams' house. A small breeze blew against the boy's tall frame as if to hurry him along. The gentle creek that, at one time, helped to shape the gravel underfoot and town in the distance, babbled merrily to the right of the road by a few yards. The trees along both sides helped to shade and frame the red dirt road that twisted and turned with the scenery.

As he trudged, Kodiak tried to recall the homework he had to do: the last page of his essay on the domestication of plants over the past century, all odds from page 534 in his Algebra book, and finish up on the slide show of Notre Dame for French class. Easy, he thought. 45 minutes tops. He passed the Robin's house, with their Herefords grazing along the fence rows, pushing on the bottom strands of old barbed wire to get the greener grass within the yard surrounding the small, yet cozy, home.

The sound of gravel under the boy's feet and the squeaking of grass between bovine teeth were suddenly masked by the sound of an oncoming vehicle. The vehicle sped by quickly; A lifted black Tahoe, threw rocks as it drove by. Kodiak cursed as a rock hit his calf. Rude, he thought. His pain was short-lived with the loom of his house a short way off. By the time he reached his driveway, the vehicle was a cloud of red dirt and sun haze off in the distance. Climbing up the porch steps, he wrenched his backpack off his back and yanked open the screen door. He set the bag on the dining table and got out all he needed before making his way back to his bedroom.

Plopping down atop his unmade bed, the boy began to work. His pencil swirled in the air as the homework papers rested on a hard-covered book nestled in his lap. Everything was normal, just as it was every day after school. An hour passed with much progress on the essay and Algebra. Within the next half-hour, he would have them both done, so Kodiak decided he wanted a snack. The sixteen-year-old strode out of his room and into the kitchen to grab some chips. The open window in the kitchen faced the gravel road and was letting in a cool, gentle breeze. Pulling back the lace curtains and gazing out, he noticed it.

A black dually sat parked on the opposing side of the road, directly in front of the Graham house. Kodiak could not tell if the truck was parked and running or if the engine was off. The boy racked his brain trying to recall if he knew anyone with a black truck, but he could not recall a single soul. Kodiak was glued to the kitchen window as a roughneck of a man could be seen climbing out of the driver door. His boots hit the ground as a chill ran down Kodiak's spine.

The man closed the truck door and propped himself up against the vehicle with his armed crossed over his chest. His worn jeans showed every speck of dirt on his knees and matched the red dirt color of his tee. The man wore dark sunglasses and a ball cap with a logo Kodiak could not see through the distance between them.

The man seemed to see Kodiak through the window because the boy felt his gaze on him. He wished ever so much that he could move out of view, but fear kept his feet planted firmly to the ground. All at once, Kodiak came to his senses and ducked below the countertop and squatted down to tile of the floor next to the white cabinets below the sink. Gathering his thought felt like wading through a thick bog. He squatted for what felt like an hour before he decided the check the window once more.

The man stood in the same spot as before, but his arms were no longer crossed. He gave Kodiak a stern look before waving a greeting. Kodiak was thoroughly flushed at this point. Chill bumps began to form on his arms as he decided his next movements, slowly. Carefully, Kodiak opened a nearby drawer and grabbed a pocket knife, slipping it into his jeans pocket, never breaking eye contact with the strange man.

Once Kodiak mustered enough will, he broke eye contact and strutted to the front door. Before the screen door slammed shut, Kodiak hit the bottom of the three steps leading off the front of the porch towards the truck and the stranger. As Kodiak neared, the man pushed off of the truck. The closer the boy got to the man, the closer he came to understanding how large this man was.

Standing well over a foot taller than Kodiak, you could tell the man worked outdoors solely by the muscle structure of the man's upper body. Kodiak's small, honey frame was no match for this man if things been south. As Kodiak neared the end of the driveway, he stopped.

"How are you, son?" The stranger began.

"Lord willing," Kodiak replied, "how can I help you, Mr.?" He questioned.

"Barker, my last name is Barker. But you can call me Will." A flat tone but with a deep, bristling voice. "And I am looking for you, boy."

Before Kodiak could process the moment, Barker grabbed him at the waist and had him in the duality before he could protest. Kodiak grabbed at the door handle, yanking with all his might before realizing the child lock was engaged. Barker was now behind the wheel and the dust was flying. The last sight of the Graham house was blurred by the red dirt haze as the truck hurtled towards the small town of Holwell.

The truck drove downtown, past the local shops and businesses all framed with glass windows fashioned with decorations for the season. Mr. Ginger bustled about in his bakery, filling orders and pulling pastries from the ovens. Then by Mrs. Margery's small, 10 room inn. Lastly, Kodiak noticed the small framed woman waiting the front corner table of the Holwell Diner. Her long brown hair pulled up into a sloppy bun atop her head as she took meal orders. Kodiak could have sworn she made eye contact with his mother before the truck had created too much distance between them.

Kodiak did not know where the final destination of the truck would be, or how long he had to live, but he knew his mother would come to look for him by the time she made it home later tonight. He knew he would be found by tomorrow at the latest, but would he be alive or dead? Only time would tell, as the boy quaked in his new seat.