Gemini

Chapter 17* All that I can Do

Chapter 17* All that I Can Do

The sun is high in the sky and it beats down on my back. Already my shirt is soaked with sweat and I have a feeling my armpits are drenched, which is, by the way, really embarrassing.

Sam is ahead of me. We haven’t spoken a word since we left, and I’m not even sure if we’re going in the right direction, but like him, I don’t feel like talking. Reaching into my bag and extracting the map, I consult it silently, and see that we are approaching a swamp.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a swamp ahead. Be careful of any… um, bogs, or whatever.”

“Okay.” He trudges along at the same speed, looking down at where he places his feet.

And suddenly I drop.

“Sam!” I just have time to cry out before I sink into the ground. Leaves rush up to meet my face and my air supply is suddenly blocked with thick, dry earth. I can’t see, can’t breathe. I can’t do anything. Claustrophobia overwhelms me, making my heart stop beating, and imaginary pressure to crush the air from my lungs.

Sam cries my name in the distance. I want so badly to answer him, but it is impossible to do so without getting a mouthful of dirt. My feet are getting wet with the clayey soil deep under, and panic strikes me, again and again, pounding into my very being and I’m so, so afraid. I’m too deep in, packed in by the unyielding earth.

My journey has ended before it even began.

And then, miraculously, someone’s hand latches onto mine. Someone is yanking me, someone is pulling me up and up. It flares a spark of hope in me, but my air supply is fast running out. Time is precious.

The hand slides out of my grip, then grabs my hand again. I am slowly being pulled up, inch my inch, I can’t breathe. It’s far too slow and my lungs are about to burst.

And then, I black out.

I wake up lying on dry dirt.

It is a bright sky, and I am forced to squint. Turning my head to the side, I see Sam, with a dirt streaked face and mud caked fingernails, staring back at me.

“Are you alright?” he questions. “Do you need to go back?”

“I’m not going back,” I grunt, sitting up. “Thanks for saving me.”

“I almost didn’t.” It was then that I realize just how in shock he is. Underneath all that filth, his face is pale, and he doesn’t smile back at me.

“Sam,” I say gently. “I’m fine, so stop fretting.”

“I’m not fretting,” he tells me, and I call him a liar. “Where are we?”

“I pulled you out and managed to get us away from the swamp. We’re… somewhere.”

“I’ve got the map,” I say, and pull it out of my backpack, pleased to find that it is unscathed. Sam takes it, brow furrowing as he tries to read the vague instructions. Finally, he exhales.

“I think we have to go north-east. It’s still a long way to the mountains.”

“Okay,” I say, grabbing my stuff and brushing the dirt off my clothes. “Let’s get cracking.”

That night, it is raining cats and dogs.

Icy sheets of cold, bone-shattering cold lays waste upon us, and we are forced to stop and seek shelter in a small cave set into the side of a grassy hill. It’s damp inside, and I have to check for snakes, but shelter is shelter. Thankfully though, there were no snakes, and we settled inside, semi-comfortable.