Amanda Ackers And The Deep Forest Elves
Book 1 of the series
By Glenn and Sasha Gabriel
ISBN: 978-1-4661-4982-3
Copyright © 2012 Glenn and Sasha Gabriel
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes:
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the authors, Glenn and Sasha Gabriel, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by these authors. Thank you for your support.
Cover art by Glenn C. Gabriel
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations are entirely coincidental (our attorneys made us say that). Should a company, locale, event, person, animal or creature, idea or product (real or fictitious) be mentioned in this work which is on the earth realm, then all trademarks belong to those respective individuals / companies.
ALSO BY GLENN AND SASHA GABRIEL
Novels Coming Soon:
Amanda Ackers
and
The Realm Of The Witches
Book 2 of this series
Amanda Ackers
and
The Thirteen Shards Of Legend
Book 3 of this series
For all available works, please visit:
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/GlennAndSashaGabriel
Or
http://www.ChiliPepperCreations.com
This book is dedicated to all those who love elves, dwarves, goblins, dragons, witches, wizards and other creatures. To those of you wanting to be transported from your everyday life, into the fantastical realms of the unbelievably believable, to find yourself dropped into the story and become part of the action yourself…
Through the power of Wizitch, you can be.
Table Of Contents
Amanda Ackers And The Deep Forest Elves
Thian’s Adventures With Wizitch
Team Morpheus Duels Team Tianna
Journey To The Realm Of The Witches
IMPORTANT!
Do NOT Read This Book
Before You Read:
Prologue
What you will now experience, is the retelling of the true adventures of Amanda Ackers and her companions, and not some simple story of fiction. You will join her as she finds a long-lost and Wizitched artifact, and discovers how that artifact, will change the balance of power for all... especially, for herself.
Her adventures are presented here in a word-for-word, thought-by-thought transcript, just as they occurred.
Surprised? Yes, I thought you would be. If this were a paperback, you’d do what you always do... sit with your latest book of fiction, flip it open, and as you read, imagine yourself as one of the characters in the story, wishing you could experience the adventures right along with them.
As you begin to read, you want to immerse yourself in mysterious lands, filled with wondrous creatures and meet new people, many from exotic places. Sighing, however, as always, you know that this is, after all, just a story.
But... what if the story was not fiction, but a true account of the greatest adventures in modern Elvish history, in the battle of ultimate good against evil?
What if you could somehow, transport yourself into the action, and truly, become part of the adventure yourself?
That… is what you have here.
The retelling of the actual events as they took place, is being told by Elorack, an ancient Elf, who compiled the events from each of the individual survivors - human, non-human and creature kind, using memory extraction and recording techniques, created by the High Elves.
Delatoran, the Master Scribe of the High Elves, was commissioned by Elorack himself, to set to hand, the true accounts retold by Elorack. You see, Elorack traveled far, and toiled unceasingly, as he searched for, and recorded, the memories of all beings and creatures discovered to be part of, or who had witnessed any part of, the adventures you will now share.
Elorack extracted the memories from each of the survivors, and, through advanced Wizitch techniques, even from those who have passed on. These memories were then compiled into the time line of the events, as they had taken place.
Now you will read the transcript of the adventures, as recorded by the Master Scribe, presented in this printed form. What you will experience in the retelling, is the random and often broken speech commonly used by us all, and not having been, rewritten to conform to what is perceived to be the correct, or proper way of speaking, as forced upon the earth scribes, as though this were some, simple book of fiction. Since this is a transcript, recorded somewhat as a court stenographer may do, word-for-word, just as spoken, what you read, is what was actually said... broken sentences, slang and all.
To experience the retelling, we will begin, just as those who first experienced the adventures had. Oh, and yes, as a guest of the High Elves, and by the use of their advanced Wizitch, you can actually become one of the adventurers within the story. Well, if you should be fortunate enough to receive a personal invitation.
However, since you will be reading the transcript, we ask that you envision yourself as having received an invitation, to join the High Elves on their realm, as their guest, for the retelling of the adventures.
With your invitation in hand, you travel to the indicated destination.
~~~~~~
The time is the present. You have traveled to the remote coordinates stated on your invitation, which you discover is at the base of a large mountain within a national forest. The back of the invitation, shows a small map of the path you are to follow up its steep side. You study it intently. The map indicates that you will come to a small cave opening, some distance up the mountain, which you are to enter and follow. Tilting your head, looking up the rock and tree strewn mountainside, you now wonder why the invitation instructed you not to bring anything with you, thinking that you may at least need a good flashlight in some dark cave. With a sigh, you take one last look at the map, put it in your pocket, and begin your hike up the mountain.
After a good hour of climbing, having done a great deal of slipping and sliding, scaring the begeebers out of you, you are breathing hard as you round a large boulder beneath an overhang of rock, and there it is. A small cave opening some fifteen feet in front of you.
You stand for a few moments, catching your breath, wondering what you will find inside. Cautiously, you approach the opening and look in. The tunnel inside is large enough to stand and walk along, but not much larger, and filled with spider webs. You hate spiders, and the thought of being covered in sticky webs, and possibly having spiders crawling all over you, makes you shiver.
For a few moments, you’re not sure if you want to enter or not, but the thrill of adventure takes hold, and with a hard swallow, you enter and walk along the rock hewn tunnel you find within. It is somewhat dark inside, but still enough light to follow the path, if you squint hard enough.
You wave your arms around a good deal as you continue inside, doing your best to move the gauze of spider webs out of your way, but, you are being covered in them none the less, and have a few moments of panic, as an occasional spider scurries over your arms or face, sending you into a heart pounding frenzy, frantically brushing at your body. Soon however, you come to an ancient looking wooden door, now barely visible in the dim light.
Swallowing hard, doing your best to pull a handful of webs from your face and hair, you stare at the door for a long moment, not knowing what you may find on the other side. Slowly, you open the door and peer inside. It is completely dark.
Torn between leaving, and continuing into the depths of the darkness, its secrets and dangers hidden from you, you hesitate for a few moments, before the excitement of being able to visit the realm of the High Elves, overwhelms you.
Leaving the door open, to let in the little light that still exists here, your pulse quickens as you step through the doorway. After taking several cautious steps, squinting into the inky darkness ahead, cursing yourself for not having brought a flashlight, you jump as the door slams behind you. Frightened, your heart jumping to your throat, in total darkness you spin around in a panic, eyes wide with fear.
You jump again and spin back, as the tunnel walls begin to glow a pale blue-green. Moving quickly to the door, you grab the handles latch, press down and swing the door out. The glowing walls are instantly extinguished. Relief floods through you, as you breathe hard, heart thundering in your chest. After calming yourself, you turn, reenter trough the doorway, and slowly head off along the pathway. Once again the door slams and latches behind you, as the soft glow once again lights your way.
Soon, you round a corner and come to the end of the tunnel. The only thing there is a curved, marble-tiled, empty alcove. Confused, you look at your invitation. It states that this is a transport chamber of some kind, and you are to step into the center of the alcove, and speak a strange word.
Heart pounding, you step to the center, turn and face back down the tunnel. With one final calming breath, forcing down a dry swallow... you speak the word.
There is a brilliant flash, making you clamp your eyes shut. For a moment, you feel dizzy. When you open your eyes, you are shocked to see that you have instantly transported to the realm of the High Elves.
Your jaw drops as you step from your transport alcove. On both sides of you, you see a long series of other alcoves stretching far into the distance. Many strange looking people are exiting as well, looking around just as amazed as you are. You recognize some as being elves and dwarves, but have no idea as to the race of the others.
Some exiting their alcoves are wearing wonderfully colored full length robes, and tall pointed hats. You do a double take, as you catch sight of a beautiful woman with long, flowing, midnight black hair, exit the alcove just to your right, holding an odd looking broom.
Another woman, just as beautiful, with long, wavy blonde hair, joins the raven-haired beauty, also holding an odd broom. They look at your obviously stunned expression, turn to each other and smile. The black-haired woman turns to you, taking your breath away with the most brilliant green eyes you have ever seen. As she mounts her broom, she smiles. “Glad you could join us. Looks like you had quite an adventure getting here yourself. Welcome… to the realm of the High Elves.” With that, she and the golden haired woman laugh, do a kind of little... hop, shoot into the air, and soar up and over the tall pines of the surrounding forest. Your jaw drops again in disbelief, as you watch them disappear from sight.
Closing your mouth, you try to look as though you do this sort of thing all the time, as you turn to look around. Before you, is the most wonderful, lush green forest you could ever imagine. Taking in a deep breath, you fill your lungs with the cleanest air you can remember, the scent of pine filling you with pure joy.
Smiling, shaking from sheer excitement, you straighten your clothing as best you can, pulling some spider webs from your arms and face. Trying to calm yourself, you walk forward a short distance to join a throng of others, who are walking along a dirt pathway, approaching a large clearing within the forest. You are relieved to see that many others are covered in webs and dirt as well, some are even flicking moss off of them, while others look absolutely immaculate in their stunning robes.
Soon, you are one of many people, adults and children alike, who gather around a huge campfire. Its base must be some twenty to thirty feet in diameter, with blue, green and violet flames, rising almost as high as the giant pines of the surrounding forest.
It is a cool and pleasant evening within the ancient forest, just outside the Grand Palace of the High Elves. Here, along with many others, you enjoy a magnificent feast, anxiously awaiting the retelling, of the exciting adventures spoken about with awe.
But, remember, you are not with people who are limited in their capabilities, as you find on the earth realm. You, are with High Elves now, and so, the retelling, takes on a Wizitch of its own.
After some time, an ancient looking elf, steps forward and beckons you and the others, to leave your place around the campfire, and make your way to a massive clearing, with rising stadium-like stands encircling it. You climb up onto the stands with the others, everyone speaking excitedly in many languages, as if they know what is coming. There are three children next to you, obviously elves, but speaking in English, about the latest advancements in something called MRT.
Excited, and a bit nervous, being new to all this, you have no idea what will happen next. You turn to the side, and ask the young elf next to you, if he knows what MRT is. He laughs. “You don’t know what that is? It just means, Memorymatic Real Time.” You look blankly at him, completely lost, and he laughs again. “You’ll see. It’s really advanced Wizitch. Elorack... the one that led us over here from the campfire, he’s one of the special High Elves... he’ll change the open field into the first memory... you know...where the adventure starts... and, you can experience it just like you’re there! You can even hear what they’re thinking, so you know why they make the decisions they do. You’ll know, and even hear what they’re dreaming too! You’ll see...”, and he turns around to continue chatting excitedly with his friends.
And you do see.
Elorack walks to the edge of the field, and with a wave of his wand, the field is no longer there. You gasp, causing those nearby to look at you, nod in understanding as they smile, recalling their first time. What you see... is the most realistic, 3D like hologram possible. And yet, not like a simple hologram which you can see through. No. This looks as real and as solid as stone. Your mind is reeling, to accept the fact that what you see... is not real.
Before you, where the field once was, is a gigantic pit so dark it seems impenetrable, but for what appears to be a small, slowly rotating sphere, suspended in space, which looks like a planet. You can see clouds, water and land masses, just like you’d see looking at earth from outer space. Looking closer at the land masses as the sphere grows larger, you see that it is indeed the earth, its beauty and realism takes your breath away. The clouds clearly floating far above the land and water.
Elorack uses his wand to magnify his voice, so that all can hear. “For those who wish to join in the experience of the adventures, and dangers as they happened, speak the word, ‘Begin,’ when I instruct you to do so, and your spiritual form, will rise from the stands and take you into the action. You… will become part of the memory, as surely as if you were there when it took place. However, no one around you will be aware of your presence. Your mind will experience all the effects, while your physical body, will remain quite safe, sitting right where you are now.
“The overall adventure, was, indeed a long one. Therefore, we have taken the events and grouped them into, what you may call, mini-adventures. This way, one group of adventures, may be experienced per night.
“Everyone present will hear all that is said, in the adventurer’s own voice or thoughts, or those of the many creatures they encounter along the way. You see, since I thought you might like to do something, other than just tag along, I have added, a few touches of my own.
“Those who choose to participate, will have all your senses involved. You will see, feel and experience all the sensations of the adventures, since you yourself, will become one of them. You will feel the scorching of the midday sun, and shiver in the cold, as you walk through waist deep snow. You will smell all the smells, and taste all the tastes as well.
“You will experience every footfall, the gentle rustling of a leaf, the babbling of water as it rushes over rocks within a stream, feel the rough bark of a tree against your hands, and hear the songs of birds and such.
“But not all of your adventures will be pleasant. There will be battles... and believe me, many of them. You too, shall have foes to fight of your own. Wizitched one’s for you of course, but while in the memories, you will not remember this fact, and perceive them as being as real as the person sitting next to you now.
“Will your companions be captured? Will you? Yes. And you will be injured right along with them, feeling the same emotions as they do. But rest assured, you cannot die, and your physical self, shall remain perfectly intact, sitting right where you are now.
“If your companions walk, so do you. If they run... please try to keep up. If they fly on a broom... you shall do the same, even though you may have no natural Wizitch abilities at all. In other words, whatever they are doing or experiencing, you shall do, or, experience as well.
“Therefore, as though in a living dream, you will walk among those within the story, as one of the adventurers.
“For those of you who wish only to observe... say nothing. You will remain as observers only, and yet, witness all the actions, and hear all the speech and thoughts as they occur. The imagery will zoom in and out for you automatically as needed, to bring those of you remaining in the stands, the very best vantage point.
“Through the use of MRT, memories will be experienced at advanced speeds, although, through Wizitch, you will not notice the increased rate, so that you will truly feel, that you are living through many months, even years, in what will actually be just a few hours. Only through the use of the Memorymatic Real Time technique, could such a long tale, be experienced, within a single evening in the forest.
“Tonight... we begin at the beginning with, ‘The Deep Forest Elves.’”
Elorack raises his arms and the large crowd quiets. You smile as your pulse quickens, your breathing increasing with excited anticipation. He waves his wand at the huge campfire. It blinks out.
With another wave of his wand, it is as though the light of the twin moons, and all the stars... have been extinguished, along with the now huge glowing globe within the pit.
The darkness, is complete.
Suddenly, a voice booms, “If you choose to participate, speak the word, Begin... now!”
Heart pounding, you speak the word.
Out of the darkness, you feel those around you vanish, as you feel your spiritual being rise from your body, leaving the stands, and begins racing toward the mountain you now see appearing in the distance, far below you, having appeared out of nowhere.
From many thousands of feet, you feel yourself rushing, falling toward the sloping side of the massive mountain. You find it hard to catch your breath, as faster and faster you travel through space and time, the mountain growing ever larger as your speed increases.
A violent thunderstorm rages around you, torrential rain hammering the landscape. The force of the wind whips against your face, making you blink as you try to focus on the sights rapidly growing before you. Freezing rain slaps hard against you, as though being pelted by small stones.
Lightning burns your eyes as the flashes come faster and faster, the thunder so intense, it feels like a punch to your gut. You begin to feel sick, as the smell of ozone assaults your nostrils.
Suddenly, you catch sight of a lone, distant figure, running up the steep face of the mountain, struggling within the deep mud.
From directly beside you, a bolt of lightning bursts from the angry black sky. The pressure from the thunder sends you tumbling out of control, arms and legs flailing frantically, as you try to regain some stability... but you cannot. You continue to fall through the sky, directly toward the running figure. Your heart pounds from the terror of falling, and the sheer realism of what you are experiencing.
You want to stop, go back, and remain safe within the stands.
But, it is too late.
About to strike the ground, screaming, your eyes bulging, you know you will die upon impact. Without warning, you are violently spun around as your speed instantly decreases. You drop hard, feet first onto the muddy ground with a splattering thud.
Startled, confused, completely soaked and freezing, you find yourself running frantically beside the drenched figure of a young girl, as you now struggle to pull your own boots from the thick mud, hearing them make sucking noises with each desperate step you take.
You want to stop and catch your breath. You want to ask her name, but you cannot. It is as though someone else, or, something else, is controlling your every move, and your body must obey.
Your mind questions, “Who is she? What’s she doing here? Why is she... are we... running through this downpour in a forest? What are we running to...” Then chancing a quick look over your shoulder, think, “or... from?”
You know the answers will come eventually, but for now, you struggle desperately through the thick mud, the wind and freezing rain chilling you to the bone, as you do everything you can, just to keep up with her.
At long last, your wish to become part of a story, has come true. You are now, and will remain until its end, a living part of the actual adventures.
There is one thing you know for certain though...
Your adventure... has Begun!
Terror In The Forest
Thunder booms the same instant lightning momentarily blinds Amanda. Running wildly up the steep face of the mountain, she threads her way through the densely packed pine trees of the massive forest. Torrential rain, mixed with freezing, howling wind, chills her to the bone. She has never seen such a storm.
The air around her is filled with the scent of pine, mingled with the smell of wet earth. As she struggles to run through the thick mud, her boots make sucking noises each time she pulls them from the slick goo. She wants to be going down the mountain, not up. But every time she tries, lightning strikes the ground every few seconds, only a few hundred feet below her, chasing her back up the mountain instead.
Stopping to catch her breath, she frantically looks around, trying to regain her wits. After a short rest, Amanda runs down the mountain to her left. Immediately, several bolts burst from the angry sky, striking but a short distance away in front of her, setting the trees in her path ablaze, just to be put out quickly by the heaviest downpour she has ever experienced.
Frightened, Amanda screams as another bolt strikes the ground some hundred and fifty feet away. An explosion of rock and mud fly in all directions, leaving a large crater in the aftermath. Turning quickly, she runs wildly back up the mountain to her left.
Another thunderous boom and bright flash of lightning momentarily blinds Amanda. She loses her footing as she steps from the thicker mud, onto a short patch of slick, solid smooth rock. Waving her arms for balance, as though surfing a huge wave, she slides sideways some distance across the slippery surface. Unable to stop, she trips over a fallen branch, which sends her flying off the end of the flat rock. Startled, she screams as she flies off her feet, landing face down in the mud several feet below.
The mud here is thick, some ten inches at least. She takes a good mouthful of the gritty earth as she hits the slimy sludge, her face sinking deep, instantly silencing her scream. Amanda feels the mud forced into and clogging her nostrils. She is half buried in the mud, with her arms slightly out to the sides, her hands near her ears.
Snapping her head up out of the goo, she spits out a huge wad of mud, gasping for breath. Trying to push herself up out of the mud and onto her knees, she fights the suction of the mud against her. Amanda is so tired, it feels like the invisible hands from hell are determined to pull her back down, to suffocate her in this thick, dark, stinking mire. Here to die in a place where her body may never be discovered.
Sliding her hands in near her shoulders, she manages to push herself up slightly, spitting another large wad of mud from her mouth, gulping down more air. Blinking her eyes open, she looks down and sees that her hands are buried clear up past her wristwatch, almost to her elbow.
Struggling to her feet, she bends over, placing her hands on her knees. Over and over again she spits thick globs of mud out of her mouth, and blows chunks of the slimy stuff from her nose, so she can breathe. Coughing, she stands up, shaking her hands hard to dislodge the thick slimy muck, clinging so aggressively to her skin. Spitting out another wad of mud, she wipes her hands on the back of her pants as best she can, to wipe away as much gunk as possible.
With the tips of her fingers, she tries to wipe the mud from her eyes so she can see. It just grinds the stuff into her eyes even more painfully. Holding her hands out and cupping them into the unrelenting downpour, she collects some water which she repeatedly splashes against her eyes, trying to clear away the stinging grit.
The sandy slime from the mud in her mouth, is now grinding between her teeth, as she continues trying to clear her mouth with her tongue, spitting out the slime as quickly as she can. The taste is the most disgusting she has ever experienced. Her eyes are burning from tiny pieces of rock, along with thin splinters of wood, that are both grinding against, and sticking her in both eyes. Every blink brings unbearable pain.
Overwhelmed, Amanda begins to cry, realizing she is completely lost and alone in this massive forest. Huge, heaving sobs begin shaking her body from the ordeal. For a moment, she just stands there, looking around her, arms slightly out from her sides.
Soon, she begins to feel the weight of the mud, which is coating her like frosting on a cake, slowly slide down her form from the relentless rain. Her muddy hair is sticking to the side of her face, as though wet clay had been flung against a sculpture. Tilting her head as far back as she can, she lets the downpour begin to rinse the rest of the mud from her eyes, face and hair. She runs her hands over her face and through her hair several times, cleaning herself up as best she can. Looking up, the rain rinsing her eyes, she feels the mud coating her body, slowly sloshing away.
A brilliant flash, accompanied by an ear splitting roar of thunder from the angry skies above, startles Amanda back into action. The bolt strikes the ground but a short distance behind her, sending fragments of earth in all directions.
One large chunk strikes her hard in the back. Terrified, she screams, then starts running, her arms waving for balance, slipping and sliding in the thick mud, going deeper into the trees of this massive forest, paying no attention whatsoever to the direction she is headed.
After a few minutes, she stops to catch her breath and looks around. To her right, she spots a deer path, and begins to run along its narrow width. It leads her deep through some very thick and tangled brush. The sharp points of the brambles slash at her arms and legs, making her wince. Following the winding path, she suddenly runs out from the thicket into a small clearing, now facing a huge tree.
There is a blinding flash, the thunder so loud her teeth rattle. The bolt strikes the huge pine tree only a few yards in front of her, making her skid to a complete stop. Amanda watches in surprise, as the top half of the tree is blown completely away, rising out of sight into the dark sky. Looking down, Amanda sees that the bolt has continued down the trunk, nearly splitting it in half. The strike momentarily sets the tree ablaze, just to be quickly snuffed out by the cascading sheets of water, flowing down what is left of its enormous, smoldering trunk. The smell of freshly charred wood sickens her. Her whole body tingles with the static charge in the air.
Amanda jumps to the side with a cry, as somewhere out of the sky, a huge burning limb from the now smoldering tree, crashes down just inches to her left. Some of the branches from the falling limb slap her hard across the face and side, making her cry out even more, as she waves her arms frantically to push the flaming offenders away. The limb these branches are attached to, are almost as big around as she is, and five times as long. If the falling limb had struck her, she would be dead.
Frantic, and scared out of her mind, she is completely beside herself now. Waves of nausea turn her stomach sour as she feels acidic bile rise, burning her throat. Shivering, she tries to keep running, but manages only a short distance, until she steps into another small clearing. Stopping, bracing her trembling arms against a huge pine tree, feeling the security of the rough bark against her hands, she leans forward and throws up. Her nerves and emotions overwhelmed, her stomach tightens so much as she retches, she thinks she may tear something internally. The panic in not being able to take a breath, as the vile liquid sprays from her mouth, makes her eyes grow wide. Gasping, Amanda coughs, then spits several times. Trying to catch her breath, her stomach tightens once again against her will, as she braces for another round.
Panting, shaking hard, Amanda can barely stand at all. Scared, freezing, soaked to the bone and lost, she frantically looks around. Staggering away from the tree, back into the downpour within the little clearing, Amanda once again collects water in her hands and cleans her face. Collecting more water, she lifts her hands to her mouth and sucks it in, swishing it around to rinse out as much of the mud, grit and foul vomit as she can. Swallowing some of the icy cold water to stop the burning in her throat, she quickly runs her hands through her hair to get it away from her face.
Amanda starts walking to the right. Suddenly, there comes a crashing sound somewhere behind her, but there had been no lightning.
“Maybe... maybe it’s just a limb from a tree that’s fallen or something,” she whispers to herself.
About to head off again, she hears more crashing, and what now seems like thrashing sounds as well. Something is coming quickly through the dark trees behind her, headed in her direction. The noise suddenly stops, much closer now. Frozen in place, freezing rain pouring down the back of her neck, she shakes.
“That... that isn’t the sound of falling limbs,” she whispers. “It’s something moving in the darkness of the trees. Something... alive!”
Her eyes shift from side to side, wide with fright, still burning from the grit grinding against them.
Swallowing hard, Amanda cautiously turns her head to the left, looking back over her shoulder and behind her, where she hears the sounds. Squinting into the darkness, at first, she sees nothing. It is very dark in amongst the trees, and the black sky above makes the day seem more like early evening. Along with the darkness and stinging in her eyes, and the relentless veil of the pouring rain, it is almost impossible to see anything at all clearly now, for any distance.
A flash and crack of thunder makes Amanda jump, lightning once again momentarily blinding her, forcing her head down, as she closes her eyes. Instantly, she feels the sharp searing pain shoot through her eyes again, as some left-over particles of grit scrape against them.
Gingerly, she blinks her eyes open, turning fully around to face the direction the noise is coming from, shaking more from fright than from the cold, driving wind and rain.
Thrashing noises return. Whatever is out there, is almost upon her, moving in an arc. Amanda, seeing movement within the darkness of the trees, spins in that direction. Out from between the densely packed pines, some thirty-five feet away, a fully grown black bear charges in her direction, scared witless by the thunder and lightning strikes.
The bear is headed at about a forty-five-degree angle from her left, slightly in front of her. Sprinting in her direction, it will pass right beside her. The bear is looking the other way as it races into the small clearing. After four giant strides, turning its massive head slightly, it catches sight of Amanda. Surprised, the bear tries to stop instantly, but instead slips in the slick mud on another patch of smooth rock. Flipping in the air, it lands hard on its side, roaring fearsomely. Its momentum spins it round and round over the slick smooth rock, carrying it right beside Amanda.
Dumbstruck, Amanda watches as a huge paw, the size of a dinner plate, reaches from the spinning bear. Claws, longer than her fingers and sharp as a razor, swipes at her, narrowly missing her leg. Amanda jerks her leg back, as the turning bear snaps its jaws shut, right where her leg had just been.
Frozen in place, she turns just her head following the bear as it continues sliding by. Gasping, eyes wide, she watches as the bear slams face first into a tree. The bear roars in pain and surprise, springing to all fours. It turns and faces Amanda, who is now completely paralyzed with fright and feeling faint.
The bear rises, standing on its hind legs only a short distance away. It towers over Amanda, like some giant hideous creature from a nightmare. Staggering toward her, its enormous head rolling as it roars menacingly, dagger-like teeth flash as it waves its massive paws.
The bear is only ten feet away, when, just as Amanda opens her mouth and screams, thunder booms. Throwing her arms up in fright, just like you would see someone do in a horror movie, she looks through the arch made from her arms. The bear must have thought Amanda had made the sound of the thunder. Instantly, it drops to all fours, and takes off into the trees away from her to the right, as fast as its massive body can possibly move. Amanda, the shock quickly leaving her, shoots off through the trees to her left, heading further up the mountain, arms flailing as she runs.
Crying hysterically, eyes burning with the unbearable pain of grit grinding against them, she runs wildly in panic. Amanda continues deeper into the dense forest, teeth jarring against the nasty tasting, sand-like grit, still trapped in her mouth. Tripping over an exposed root, her ankle turns painfully. Limping badly, she stumbles, almost falling several times, as the toe of her injured foot catches on some stone, root or branch.
Scrambling blindly up the mountain, away from the bear, doing the best she can with her injured ankle, she soon tires. Breathing hard, heart pounding in her chest, she feels her heart might explode. In spite of the rain hammering against her, her throat is as dry as any desert, making it hard to swallow.
Amanda is well up the side of the mountain now, much further than she had ever intended to climb. The mountain is so steep here, she slips and slides, scratching and clawing at the almost vertical face of rock, to keep from falling. Somehow, she manages to continually find hand and footholds, and keeps on climbing, fearing that the bear may come back to get her at any moment.
After a time, she cannot go any further without rest. Leaning against a huge pine, she constantly looks behind her down the mountain, to be sure the bear is not running up silently behind her. Breathing deeply, wiping her wet hair from her face, she begins to calm down.
After taking a short break, a lightning strike hits below and to the right of her, setting another tree ablaze. Amanda jumps, and moves up the steep slope to her left. Soon she spots a ridge of rock, which appears to be leading to what may be a ravine on the other side.
Climbing for a few more minutes, she reaches the vertical ridge. Struggling, she is having a difficult time making her way around the sharp ridge of rock, which is jutting out from the rock face. Moving her head so she can see around the ridge, Amanda notices a large root sticking out from a crack within the rocks, almost right in front of, but slightly above her.
Reaching up, she grabs onto the thick root with her left hand, and gives it a good tug.
“It seems solid enough,” she says to herself.
Grasping tightly with her left hand, she pulls herself up and over to the other side of the ridge. Swinging her left leg around, Amanda feels for a good foothold. Wanting to get to the other side of the ridge, she wants to see if the climbing might be any easier on that side, before finding a good way back down the mountain. Thinking that if she can make her way around the sharp, jutting vertical ridge of rock, there will be no way the huge bear could do the same, and she will be safe.
Beginning to round the ridge, into the small “V” shaped ravine on the other side, she leans far to her left, along the protruding root. Reaching out, she grabs the root firmly with her right hand, still straddling the ridge with her feet.
Straining and grunting, she maneuvers the rest of her body around the ridge, putting her full weight onto the root. While trying to find good footholds, the root makes a sickening crack, and a huge rock falls free from the cliff face, in which the root had been extending. With a jerk, the freed root quickly tilts down a good forty degrees. Screaming, Amanda’s body drops down several feet, losing her footing completely, as her hands slide down the slippery bark. Amanda swings away from the rock face, feet dangling wildly in the air.
Frantically, trying to find a foothold, she realizes the root has swung away so far, she can no longer reach the side of the ridge of rock at all.
She had not realized that the root had actually extended some way back, disappearing into a crack between two boulders. The only thing she had seen, and grabbed onto, was about three feet of the root near the ridge edge. After swinging out, she realizes there is another ten feet of root sticking out away from her and the ridge, beyond that. Now, she sees that the root is actually some twenty-five feet long, sticking out against the side of the rocks, which had blocked her full view of it.
The rain must have caused a rock slide, which exposed the buried root and pushed it to one side. When Amanda put her full weight against the root, the extra pressure against the far rock on which the root had been resting, rolled the rock free from the soft mud. That caused the root to swing her away from the ridge, and out over the steep ravine.
The root makes another horrible cracking sound, followed by a further drop. Amanda screams, wet hands once again sliding along the slick root. Her fingers reach a huge knot, just stopping her from slipping off the end.
Clinging desperately to the end of the root, Amanda looks up the length of it, to where it cracked and splintered, the rain streaming down her face. Terrified, not moving, her eyes follow as a larger splintering fissure appears, moving along the length of the root, traveling faster and faster. Cracking sounds grow louder. A second later, she hears the final, sickening, snap!
Screaming, as the root points straight down, she slips from the end. Amanda drops some ten feet to the slanting, rocky side of the ravine below. On impact, her teeth jar against one another as she bites her tongue, the stabbing pain making her wince.
The slippery, and very slanted slope, sends her tumbling backward, another blood curdling scream escapes as her arms thrash in the air for balance.
Tumbling down the steep side of the ravine, Amanda feels the rough, sharp ground cut into her. Striking the side of a tree, Amanda spins and soon bounces hard off the side of a boulder, sending her careening at an angle to her right, now sending her tumbling down an embankment, and into the heart of the ravine itself.
Disoriented, Amanda suddenly strikes hard against a small, downward-angled shelf of rock, becoming airborne. Dropping some seven feet, she lands into something that goes... splat, and quickly begins sliding down the mountain. Panicked, she thrashes, looking around, trying frantically to stop sliding, but she just cannot find a way. With growing fear, she realizes she is caught up in a rapidly moving slurry of mud, making its way down the mountain.
Amanda slides quickly down the ravine on her back, against her backpack, a small bag kids use for school, and not one of the large hiking packs. The jagged rocks tear at the sleeves and sides of her parka, t-shirt and pants, cutting deeper into her arms and legs. Struggling to stop, she desperately grabs at everything she passes, and ends up slicing her hands badly, as everything slips and scrapes through them.
Flipping onto her stomach, her face is momentarily pushed into the slick mud. Her legs end up just slightly apart, with her toes pointing out to the sides, sliding down the mountain, feet first in a blur.
Tilting her head quickly up out of the mud, coughing and with hair stuck to her face, Amanda opens her eyes. Rocks, limbs, branches and trees are a blur as they shoot past her on both sides. It is like she is looking out the back window of a fast moving car. Terror fills her senses as she realizes she may be heading, uncontrollably, toward some cliff’s edge.
Rolling her ankles, she presses down with her toes to dig in, while slamming her fingertips down to help stop her descent. Her fingernails are instantly torn from the quick as they scrape across hard, jagged stones beneath the mud, ripping most away, making her scream loudly as searing pain shoots through her. The tips of her fingers are scraped raw. Feeling several sharp, stabbing pains, she screams again as splinters from some shattered roots drive deep into her raw fingers and hands.
No matter how hard she struggles, she is not slowing, her hands, fronts of her legs and her arms are being shredded on the sharp rocks she is quickly sliding over. Her left knee slams into a large rock. A paralyzing stab of pain, like banging your knee against the edge of a table shoots through her, making her entire body tense, causing her to push down harder into the rough and slashing ground. She can feel chunks of skin being torn or ripped away.
Frantic, needing to do something to stop sliding, she decides to see if she can somehow, roll her way out, and begins to roll over and over to the side
“I... I think it’s working,” she thinks hopefully.
And it does work pretty well... for a moment. But then, unnoticed by her, she is actually rolling at an angle. The force of the rapidly moving mud slowly turns her sideways. With a last roll, she is tilted so far to the side, the rushing mud grabs hold and spins her body fully ninety degrees to the flow.
Amanda rolls over and over like a pipe on the floor, every roll forcing her face repeatedly into the thick smothering mud as she is being completely covered in the slimy thick muck, as the mud moves rapidly over a smooth rocky area.
No longer being able to time her breaths, she is taking in mouthfuls of mud and filthy water, and having a hard time coughing it out. Only, occasionally, can she get a fair lung full of air. She continues to roll, with the quick slap, slap, slapping sounds, as her small, almost flat backpack, thumps against the mud and rock. There are a few moments when she slides for some distance, either on her stomach or on her back, then the force of the flow rolls her over violently, to start the entire process anew.
Continuously striking against rocks, branches, and other unseen things, she tumbles helplessly, out of control. Her head hits the ground, first on one side, then the other. Jagged rocks scrape the skin from her legs and arms, as the many points of sharp sticks pierce her arms, legs, chest and side, while slashing at her face. Amanda feels a searing pain on the side of her head. A chunk of her hair has literally been ripped out by the roots, having gotten tangled in a large limb that is hanging down across the path she is sliding on. Amanda feels she will be torn apart, or beaten to death, at any moment. About to give up, thinking that death would indeed be welcomed, over this relentless pounding, she prays that it will all stop.
About to pass out from lack of air and the beating she is taking, her side slams hard into a large boulder, causing Amanda to come to an instant and painful stop, as muddy water sprays up and over both her and the boulder. The pain in her side is mind-numbing... one of those pains that seems to freeze your body in place, no matter how hard you want to move.
Through sheer panic, and the instinct to survive, she rights herself from the relentless flow and spray of the mud. Bracing herself against the mud-strewn boulder, her backpack flat against it, she shakes uncontrollably from being so weak and beaten. Determined, she pushes hard with her legs as she tries to stand but falls. Gritting her teeth, she forces herself to stand, turning to face away from the churning mud flow. Exhausted, she leans face forward against the boulder, arms wide, hugging it. There she stands, on rubbery legs, trying to catch her breath.
Once again, Amanda spits out globs of slimy mud, filled with dirt, pine needles, and who knows what other disgusting things from the forest floor, that all the animals use as their toilet.
For a few moments, unable to move, she presses her battered and slashed body against the boulder. Slowly, tilting her head back, she lets the downpour of rain clean the slimy mud away from her face, eyes and hair, and wash off most of the mud from her upper clothing.
Painfully turning around, she puts her back to the boulder. Filling her hands with water, she tries to clear her mouth from all the grit and disgusting taste. As she raises her hands the third time, now with her eyes open to take a drink, she notices that her hands are streaked with red rivulets of blood, from her ripped and torn away fingernails.
She looks at the many other cuts and scrapes covering her battered body. In a daze, her head still spinning, she looks blurrily at her arms and sees that they, too, are bleeding. Crying out, Amanda pulls several long splinters from her arms.
Trembling and holding onto the boulder, she feels the force of the mud flow sucking at her feet, as though standing in sand at the beach, water ebbing and flowing over them, sinking them further with each pass.
Turning her head slowly, she looks around. It takes a few moments before her vision stops spinning, and she can finally begin to see more clearly. On her right, the mud flow continues around the boulder, rapidly making its way down the very steep mountainside. On her left, Amanda is startled to see that, if she can pull her feet free, all she needs to do is fall to her left, and she will be out of the flow of mud and back onto slick muddy ground again.
Amanda struggles, but manages to pull her right boot free, from what now feels like partially set cement. Knowing she does not have the strength to turn away from the support of the boulder, and simply walk away through the upheaval of water spraying against her, she clenches her teeth, anticipating the pain, tilts her body to the left and slides with her back against the boulder. Closing her eyes, Amanda topples away from the huge rock, spray, and mud flow, onto the hard muddy ground beside her. Her shoulder hits the ground hard, making her cry out in pain, as her head strikes, as well. But she does not care. At least, she is out of the mud flow, and safe... for now.
Managing to crawl a short distance, Amanda can move no more. Trying to lift her head, her vision once again begins to swim. The images around her become blurry, and begin to dim. Soon, completely exhausted, she can take no more, and passes out.
When Amanda regains consciousness, she knows a considerable amount of time has passed, because it is much darker out now than it had been.
“Must be approaching early evening,” she whispers to no one.
As she tries to get up, every muscle in her body screams in protest. Managing to stand, she winces. She cannot believe that the rain is still pouring down as hard as it had been. Looking up into the sky, she sees what appears to be boiling black clouds, with some lighter areas of gray, rolling violently, more like a dark stormy sea than a sky.
She has never seen anything like it.
“This must be the storm of all storms,” she says softly to herself, gingerly working a kink from her neck.
Turning around, Amanda is surprised to see that the mud flow is much wider than it had been. Fortunately for her, the flow has been growing away from her, on the other side of the boulder, and not over her while she was unconscious. That thought sends a shiver up her spine, making her turn away.
Looking down in dismay, she sees that the front and sides of her parka have been torn to shreds, almost completely ripped from her body, hanging by a few threads in the front which attach in the back. The back of Amanda’s parka has been protected by the backpack, made from Kevlar, and not canvas or some other material, like many others. Luckily, it is in pretty good shape. Grimacing, she slides her way out of the backpack, setting it on the ground beside her. Taking off what is left of the parka, she tosses it into the muddy river, rapidly flowing past her on the other side of the boulder. With a shiver, Amanda watches it quickly disappear downhill, grateful that she is not unconscious and making the trip with it.
Touching her ripped and bloody t-shirt, she finds it is still in good enough shape to wear, having been mostly protected by the now shredded parka. Looking down at her shaking and wobbly legs, she sees that her left pant leg has been completely torn away, just above the knee, and her leg is bleeding from dozens of cuts and scrapes. A chunk of skin on that knee, about the size of a silver dollar... is gone. Like small rivers, blood flows freely down her leg and into her boot. Amanda’s other pant leg is wet with blood as well, and torn in a good many places. The sight of all the injuries and the blood, makes Amanda feel sick to her stomach. There are dozens of splinters, with larger slivers as long as two inches - sticking out of her legs, and several on her face and back of her head. Grimacing, she spends several painful minutes, pulling as many of them out with her raw, bleeding fingers as she can.
Feeling unstable, not thinking she can actually walk yet, she lays back down for about another twenty minutes. Tired and aching all over, still shaking from the bitter cold and freezing rain, she begins to feel somewhat more clear-headed, and a little more stable. Part of her wants to stay here and wait for someone to find her. However, she knows she has to keep moving, or she may be caught in another mud flow. Or, with all this rain, this mud flow may grow wider, and spread to this side of the boulder. And if she falls asleep, it may grab her again.
Yawning, Amanda looks around trying to get her bearings. “I’ve got to get moving back down the mountain. I need to get away from this mud flow and out of the wind and rain. I’ve got to get to someplace where someone can see me... and rescue me.”
Rising stiffly to her feet, gasping in pain, she grabs her backpack and puts it on. Because of the pain, she does not cinch it up this time, nor does she attach the strap that goes around her chest either, deciding to use the shoulder straps alone.
Heading down the mountain, away from the mud flow and limping badly from the missing chunk from her left knee and turned ankle, Amanda hears a horrendous crashing noise, like rock-on-rock, shaking the very ground she is standing on.
Whipping her head around, looking up the steep side of the mountain, she gasps as her eyes fly wide. A huge cascade of tumbling rocks, dislodged by a lightning strike, crashes down from high above her on the steepest part of the mountain. An avalanche of boulders, some the size of a small house, tumble down the mountain straight at her. The rush of crushing stones, rip giant pine trees from the ground, snapping them apart like toothpicks.
Running as fast as her cut and gashed body can take her, she limps badly from the damage to her knee and ankle. Turning ninety degrees from the tumbling boulders far up the side of the mountain, she runs as best she can, slipping and sliding in the slick mud, fighting her way toward safety, as she makes her way around fallen logs, branches, trees and boulders.
Every few seconds, she turns her head to the right, looking up the mountain to see the avalanche rapidly approaching. It is like someone is speeding up time for the rushing boulders, and slowing down time for her escape. Sprinting around a large boulder, she looks again, and this time, she knows for sure she will not be able to outrun the avalanche. Instead, Amanda knows she will be crushed to death on this forsaken mountain. She covers enough distance to almost reach the outer edge of the avalanche, but, she realizes has not quite gone far enough to clear it.
The mass of house and car-sized boulders are almost upon her, and she screams... screams so hard her voice pops and stops... in mid-scream from the strain.
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