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Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ben Krieger staggered his way across the deserted field he had been wandering for several days. Why he was doing this and where he was going, Krieger wasn’t so certain anymore; his memory has been failing him lately.

The one thing that he did know is that he was hungry and tired. He must find some food and shelter soon. He’ll be dead in a matter of days if he doesn’t eat – his body was telling him this every minute as he tried to walk straight.

He stumbled over a small rock he was trying to avoid and when he hit the ground he cursed himself. A panic overcame him and he felt frantically for his back pocket. It was empty.

“Where, damnit?”

He turned and found what he was looking for. He picked up the notebook and held it lovingly in his hands. “I thought I’d lost you, my friend.”

He sat up and opened the notebook, flipping through the weather beaten pages. Memories were locked inside this book; his memories.

This notebook was the only thing that kept him sane. Night and day he would scribble down his thoughts and discoveries. He could no longer trust his memory, but this, this he could trust. He would never write in it unless he had a good mind to do it with.

He turned to the last entry and scanned through what he had written.

Nothing happened today. I thought I could find some trace evidence that Ilias existed, but I couldn’t find any. With what I was told from Vince, I’m positive that Ilias exists – otherwise, how did Orion get his original powers? I need to find something to eat – I’m starving!

An object caught his eye and he looked up. A figure of a person was walking on the horizon. And that person looked as if they were heading in his direction.

By the shape, and from his distance, it did not look like a Dreamkiller; but then there were those that appeared human.

As the figure approached, Krieger saw that it was a young woman. It’s impossible, he thought. No human could get out this far without dying from starvation. But he had, hadn’t he?

He saw her red hair reflecting from the sun first. She came closer and he couldn’t trust his eyes, for he was watching the young figure of Mykella advancing forward as if she knew he was out here.

No; there is absolutely no way she could know where he was – he never told anyone of his personal mission.

And yet, she came closer and he was positive it was her. The Dreamkillers of the next wave were smarter than the others, but they weren’t smart enough to use trickery such as disguising themselves to become loved ones. They knew nothing of what she looked like; the last time they saw her, she was little more than an infant.

He stood up, ignoring the pain in his foot from where it had hit the rock.

Mykella came up to him with a smile on her dry lips. “Mr. Krieger,” she said as she held out her hand.

He looked down at her small hand and then up into her green eyes. “Mykella? Is it really you?” He felt like a child asking her this.

She nodded and put her hand inside the jacket she wore and then pulled out a half loaf of bread.

Just as his mouth began to water, lightning flashed across the horizon and the wind picked up. “We need to find shelter,” he said as he watched the sky.

“You need to eat first.”

“Where did you get this?” He looked at the bread like a starving animal. Suspicion overcame him again as he looked at it. Bread was not entirely impossible to come by, but few people actually made it, finding the ingredients were both difficult and often dangerous to find.

“It was a gift.”

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A gift? “From who?”

The first drops of rain fell and he cursed his thinking. “Come on, we need to find some shelter. It looks like a storm is coming.”

Mykella lowered her eyes. “I know,” she said in a voice that Krieger could not hear.

“Over there,” she said and pointed toward a small hut that he had not noticed before.

“That wasn’t here before,” he muttered and studied the small dwelling. “I know it wasn’t. I would have seen it.”

Mykella shook her head impatiently. “Come on. You said it before; we gotta hurry.”

Krieger surrendered to the temptation of both the small shelter and the bread as he took it from her hand and they sprinted toward the hut.

Upon entering through the only door, Krieger saw that it was large enough to accommodate the two of them with ease and tall enough for a small fire. It was nearing dark outside and it was beginning to darken inside.

“We need to build a fire,” he announced and thought about going back out to find some wood for burning, but Mykella stopped him when he turned toward the door.

“Look,” she said and he turned back around and saw what she was looking at.

He stared dumbfounded at the small pile of wood lying at the other side of the hut. Again, the suspicion got the better of him and he faced her. “What the hell’s going on, Mykella?”

First the appearance of Mykella. Then the hut. And now the kindling with matches sitting next to it no doubt.

“What do you mean?” she asked, appearing hurt by his mistrust.

“None of this was here ten minutes ago. Now this. Why?”

She sat down in defeat and hung her head down. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense to me, either.”

No matter what was happening he knew the fire must be built or suffer the cold of night. He took several bites of the bread and almost immediately felt his strength and his mind return. He placed several pieces of wood in a pile and struck a match.

She watched him eat for a moment and then turned her gaze on the fire as it grew. “I don’t know what happened,” she began and he sat down next to her on the ground. It was cold, but bearable.

“You must be hungry, too,” he said as he remembered his manners. “Here.” He split the bread in half and held it out to her.

She shook her head. “You need your strength.” She looked back into the fire. “It’s going to be a long night.”

He nodded and pulled out his notebook and placed it on the ground next to him.

“What’s that?” she asked when she saw it.

With a smile, “My memories.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m not sure I’m the one to tell you,” he said with a sigh.

“No one else is,” she replied behind a hurt expression on her young face. “I know something important is going to happen, but I don’t know what or when.”

He looked at her face and tried to grin, but the moment wouldn’t allow it. “Don’t be angry with your father. He’s only trying to protect you.”

“Me?” She stood up and folded her arms. “If he’s so into saving lives, then why not the rest of the damned people? Why just me?” She tossed another log into the fire and tried to calm down. “You know how he’s trying to get the Others on our side?”

He nodded and watched the new log catch fire.

“Well, I overheard him and Karl saying something about their army not being big enough yet.”

She went back and sat back down, on his other side this time. “Tell me; is he planning to strike back at this Orion? He’ll die if he does.”

He looked at her. “Mykella, how did you find me?”

“A man in my dreams told me to go to you – that I find you out here. He gave me the bread and told me to give it to you.”

“And you trusted him?” Krieger became suspicious already.

“He told me you shouldn’t be alone, not now of all times.”

“Am I going to die?” He wasn’t afraid to die. In fact, he was almost hoping that he would.

“He said that you could tell me the whole story; some prophecy he said.” She tried to avoid the question.

“Mykella; am I to die?”

She nodded slowly and he saw the tears reflected in the fire. He closed his eyes and nodded as well. In a way, he was thankful for this small bit of information: it put his mind at ease.

“Mykella.” She looked up at him for the first time with sympathy in her eyes which broke his heart. “It’s all right.” He could see this didn’t help. “Really; I’m okay with it. I’m an old man.”

“Can you,” she tried to change the subject as best she could. “Can you tell me who I am? Why am I so important that Dad wants to protect only me?”

He looked at the fire. “Take this bread.” He held out the broken half to her and looked at her tired face. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”