The Traversing Book I

Chapter 4

Trast ran as fast as he could toward the west woods where he would have some cover. He looked over his shoulder briefly to see a lot of other kids running in that same direction, and then his eyes darted over to Kokia. He could see her and Lolly running fast toward the river. His heart ached at the thought of never again holding her in his arms.

The closer he got to the woods he started to notice the sound of vehicles and random gunfire. He decided that for the moment he needed to get a good vantage point to see what the best route would be to his house so he could avoid any ITAQ fighters. He turned his head and saw a big maple tree that had a low enough branch for him to jump and grab a hold of it. He grabbed hold of a branch stub and threw his left leg up onto the big lower branch and then stood up on it. He looked up and saw that the branches were jutted out at just the right angle, and he started to climb up, careful not to lose his footing. He hears a noise in the distance, and instantly looks over to his left and sees another boy climbing a similar maple tree. He didn't recognize him, but he seemed younger, and definitely not the enemy.

Trast stopped at a little more than halfway up the tree and turned his head downward toward the street. He could see that not too far from the woods there were several military trucks lined up in a row, probably as sort of a roadblock and noticed several men walking around. They were talking in Arabic and saw them having some sort of disagreement and starting waving the guns at each other. Trast looked up and down the street and saw some men milling about here and there, stirring up dust and soot from the explosions. It seemed near impossible for him to try and cross the street and his mind whirled on what he should do. But there just wasn't any place for him to cross safely, so he knew he had to keep going on through the woods. He turned to look at the ground and started to climb down the tree, making as little noise as possible. At the last branch, he carefully jumped down, hoping the thick coat of grass would muffle any noise. He turned and started jogging further down the path when he hears a small thud. Instinctively, he turned around and saw that the other kid had slid from the last two branches and fell on the dirt. Against his better judgment, Trast reversed his steps and ran over to see him lying flat on his back. He bent over him and asked if he was OK and if he could get up. The kid looked so young. And really skinny.

"Yes, I think I'm OK," he said. "I just got the wind knocked out of me I think." The boy then reached out his hand up for Trast to help him up.

"I'm Trast. What is your name?" Trast says as he pulls the boy up.

"Dyse. My name's Dyse," he says as he stands up and begins to wipe the dirt from his hands on his pants.

"Do you go to Roosevelt?" Trast asks him as he stands next to Dyse.

"Yeah. Freshman. What the hell is going on? How did they manage to do this?" Dyse asks, waving his hands.

"I don't know. But they did. I am trying to get to my house, to see if my mother is OK. You doing the same?"

"Yeah, I live off of Martle Avenue. Can I stick with you?" Dyse asks, looking so obviously frightened, and then he looked up to Trast, who seems to be a whole foot and a half taller than him.

"Sure, we will stick together until Main Street. I just hope there is a home left to go home to. But try to not draw attention to us, deal?" Trast says quietly to him, his eyes getting wide.

"Yea, for sure," Dyse whispered, then they both started running further through the woods faster and faster, until they both were out of breath. Trast sees up ahead another big maple tree and he starts to climb, though this one is much harder to do than the last one. He maneuvers to the middle of the tree and again looks down at the road. There are no trucks within the distance. He sees a bunch of trash and debris in the street, and wondered if they just bombed the whole city. He climbs down and sits on the ground, resting his back against the trunk.

"Let's rest a minute," Trast says, realizing he was desperately thirsty and getting hungry, and Dyse nods his head. He stares at the boy, watching him wipe off his forehead, and sees the glint of braces in his mouth.

"I don't think I ever saw you at school," Trast says, turning his head to listen and see if he hears anyone approaching.

"Well, I pretty much hide in plain sight," Dyse says and shrugs his shoulders. Trast could tell that he was kinda nerdy, and definitely seemed like a loner type. Few friends. Loved calculus. Enjoyed old Harry Potter movies.

"We will make a run for it when I say go," Trast says, pointing to the road a little ways behind him. "We will run straight across the street into the electric charge mart over there. Run a little bent over and do it fast. We could get shot at. I mean, they already tried to kill us once today," Trast says quickly, then lets out a long sigh. His mind then started thinking of Kokia and hoping she was OK. Flashbacks of their goodbye and how nice it felt to have her in his arms and kissing her came into his head. They had been dating for six months, and he was falling madly in love with her. She was unlike any other girl he had dated and was naturally beautiful. Her dark red hair shone in the sun, glistening hues of copper and gold. And when she turned to look at him with those beautiful eyes, he could feel his resistance taking over. He wished he could scoop her up in his arms right now and hold her forever.

Trast and Dyse crouched down below a few trees and scanned the road. It looked pretty quiet, and Trast held up his fingers. One. Two. Three. Then they both ran. Trast had an immense amount of adrenaline in him, and he ended up tripping on the three steps leading up to the store. He grabbed hold of the wood boards to pull himself up, getting a splinter in the palm of his right hand. He then stumbled into the store, veering right and kneeling down behind a rack resting near the doors which contained some candy bars and cookies. Dyse followed and stood beside him, both of them out of breath and sweaty.

"I don't think anyone saw us," Dyse said, sniffling, and Trast noticed he started wheezing slowly, like people do with asthma.

Trast points to the back of the store to the coolers and they both walk through the aisles to the refrigerated section. He needed something to drink. He grabbed hold of the cooler handle, and when he opened it up the smell of spoiled milk permeated his nose. He scanned the rows of drinks and took out four bottles of water and handed two to Dyse. They both opened one and drank from the bottles eagerly, even though they were undesirably warm.