The God Codex

23. Ambush

BOOK OF MIA: 2081

Chapter 23: Ambush

"Mia!"

Nate's voice is hollow and distant, as if he is miles away, or air fills my ears.

"Mia!" It gets louder.

My eyes snap open in the dark. For a moment, I do not understand where I am, or even why. My hands smooth over the occasional grass and twigs and dirt, and I wonder where my bed has gone, or why my room no longer has walls. Why is it that I can feel the sticky but oh-so-good cool summer breeze caressing my face? Or even why Nate is there, hovering over me with eyes so wide I think I see the fear in them.

I close my eyes at the absurdity of it. Nate and fear? Ha! Get out! That ain't ever happening. The guy is a total babe and made of steel and hard muscles. Long, lean — touchable.

I turn on my bed, trying to get comfortable, making a mental note that the mattress may have died and gone to mattress heaven, for it's all pokey and hurts. I need sleep, and this weird-ass dream is not helping. Tomorrow is Camp Sweep. Ugh! I still don't want to go, but apparently, I can't officially graduate high school without 'surviving it' as mum keeps hammering at me. Whatever the fudge that means!

"Mia, wake up!" Nate screams at me again, nudging me. There's a heaviness to his voice I can't place. He sounds rather convincing on that fear front. Nudging me?

I nuzzle my pillow, wanting to go back to admiring him instead when something sharp pokes my ear. "Ow—bloody pen." I open my eyes again, thinking I have left a book open near my pillow again, trying to cram for the paper I need to hand in soon. Instead of my bed, my room, my pen, I see my Nate — hang on, why is Nate here? And that thing that poked me? A twig.

I look around again. I'm on the floor of some forest and the smell of eucalyptus is in the air. The soil is damp below me. Nate hunches over me, wide-eyed and fuming, though a cloud of relief passes over his face.

He heaves a sigh, his eyebrows knit in tension. His eyes fleetingly scan the surrounding gloom, as if he is trying to signal me. Signal me to what? I don't understand...

"Nate? What are you doing here?" my voice cracks like a corrupted voice file.

"Hands where we can see them!" a voice booms nearby, from the shadows. Shadows I can't make out.

Nate does as he is told. He spreads out his hands on either side of his head, his eyes glancing back and forth from me to the shadows. "I'm sorry, Mia," he whispers as he goes to stand.

Sorry about what? I look around. Part of me still thinks I'm in my room, trying to get to sleep while banishing thoughts of seeing Nate at the camp. But another part of me, the small voice in the back of my head part, is telling me to get it together, and escape.

"You, too. UP." The voice barks again, too loud for my ears, and I obey. I still don't understand what is going on, but if Nate is fearful, I better keep my guard up and think. Such an odd dream to be having...

"It's not a dream, you fool. Snap out of it!" a man's voice sneers in my head, as crystal as a bell.

"Who said that?" I look around me, still not seeing much more than the immediate grounds, and Nate, eyeing me with more nerves than a batch of nervous high schoolers about to sit their last exams.

Nate's eyes go wide in alarm. "Just do as they say, Mia!" he hisses at me.

"Up, now!" A sharp nudge on my shoulder makes me turn to see the long, pitch-black barrel of a gun. I follow the barrel until I spy the black-gloved hands twice the size of mine. I follow the hand, up the arms, the shoulder, and happen upon a peculiar face, skin as black as night. Not balaclava, or covers, but skin. Black like the paint or the colour of my hair...