The Lost Archives

The Lost Archives - Nano #5

You can avoid writing longer by choosing your font. You can avoid writing longer by choosing the size of your font. You can also avoid writing longer by writing a terrible introduction to your novel that absolutely no one will ever read. This is that here introduction.

This is Part 2 to…a deranged part one.

Chapter 1

The sweet dark, comfortable drugged state of sleep was stolen away from Eliza as a loud and disruptive tone crashed into her mind. She was saddled again with the mighty weight of being awake, and she felt herself draw in a lengthy breath, not even daring to move as though it may break the sleepy spell.

The rude tone had fully drawn her out of some dream, somewhere in a far off place, in a far off time even…the ground had been laced with wet leaves, and the moon was beginning to climb in the sky. Just as she was about to walk around the bend, she caught a quick glimpse of a woman washing something at a river. Then she was chaotically thrust into the new day. There was no peaceful moon; there was a bright sun breaking in through the windows.

Eliza looked around. Looked around. She hadn’t ever had the privilege to observe the world around her in color; not even in black and white. Her world had never felt less with the absence of sight, but now its existence enriched her world.

Much like Fover, also enriched her world. Just a short year and a half ago, her world had been darker, lonelier, and still. Now it moved everyday, now she knew that Mel was out there, she knew she was leaning into Fover and her’s adventures more everyday, and she knew she had a very hungry dog that depended on her for the delicious boring consistency of his kibble.

As if reading her thoughts, Buster pulled her last bit of awareness to fully focus on his big eyes gazing up at him.

“Fineeee.” With a large sigh, she hauled her legs over the side of the bed towards her slippers, until they were neatly tucked into the raggedy shoes. They had seen many drowsy miles.

Since her world had opened up, she now knew that the human race in general knew so little of what was out there. No surprise to her, but largely a surprise to her other human colleagues; they were pretentious enough to assume ultimate understanding over the fabric of time space. How wrong they were. It made Eliza wonder at what else they didn’t know; her assumption was only growing by the day that there was much more that they didn’t know compared against what they firmly did.

She still had to wear glasses, since her eyes weren’t very strong and hadn’t been seeing very long. The world in her focus though was still bursting with beauty; every season had gifts. She bundled up after taking care of Buster, it was time to go over and see Fover. He had mentioned that he had found something extra about Alaska that may lead them to Mel. Some sort of legend about a waterway. Maybe he thought they should use the waterways to take a relaxing cruise around Alaska, that would make more sense given how stressful things had been.

Gaining sight, love, a dog, and a new sister was all a blessing, but it was a heavy feeling to shoulder, undiminished by how well she was able to carry it all. It was also his turn to take Buster for the week; Buster constantly liked both of their companionships, but their schedules didn’t align. This allowed their furry friend to get the all around at home love he needed; and they enjoyed their adventures together where they could.

“Buster!” She gave her leg a strong pat, and Buster ran over, ready to bound up into the truck with the tennis ball securely in his mouth. Bottomdown Rd. wasn’t far from her, but it was cold enough she wrapped herself up in her rain slicker and brought a Stanley thermos with hot chocolate.

The rain tappity tapped on her windshields while her Shelby Cobra Mustang to life; life was short – better to ride what she had always dreamed of what she would never drive. But her canine friend rode in it too – life was also too short to lose sight of the things that mattered like family over stuff and things. A little hair added a little character.

The fifteen minutes ran by quickly, and she rolled up to the coded security gate on Fover’s property leading to the rest of Bottomdown ranch and road. Funny, it didn’t look like any fresh tracks had been impressed in the mud by Fover’s big Bronco (which was a rusted orange color with a white border – tasteful like his fruit addiction).

Maybe Fover had decided to be further reclusive into his forested sanctuary – sometimes she could relate to that – always wanting to button yourself up away from the world. Since meeting Fover though, a strange thing had happened – she wanted to be alone, with him. Together, against the world, and away from the world. Her heart squeezed a little tighter as her eyes followed the trail up to his cabin not far beyond the gate. It would be good to hold him and dispel this lingering feeling in her gut that something wasn’t sitting quite right.

Pulling up, the chimney wasn’t smoking like it should be by now, huffing and sighing of heat and a comfortable meal inside. No light or Fover greeted her; as if in agreement with her, Buster gave a loud bark.

Taking their pup with her, she walked up to the door. No greeting still, she pushed open the heavy door. The cabin almost seemed to ease the door in, almost attached to her it seemed.

“Hey! Anyone around this watering hole? Fover?” She threw out a joke, hoping this was a joke. The further she stepped into the cabin, the cold boards creaking under her lean weight explained it was no joke. No one had been here in awhile, not even Fover.

There was no Bronco parked out front either, and it didn’t look parked out back for work on the engine (Fover was a huge motorhead – able to make a vehicle properly sing through a spell of many cusswords).

“Fover! Where are you? This is a cruel trick, even for your shenanigans.” No laugh echoed, nothing echoed other than Buster’s clacking nails around the wood. She began to shake – why did her hair stand on edge? Fover could have gone to the store, but he would have bugged her to come with, or at least teased her about leaving her at the house in the meantime. Something didn’t feel right. Her twisting gut told her so.

Her eyes did see the house, but they saw something else too – while it felt out of focus, she saw a sort of jagged triangle floating in the side of her vision – lingering in the shadows.

When she tried to look at it more closely, it was whisked away, and it dissipated into the thin air, like a mist almost. Then another appeared in her vision closer to a table, where a small box lay on it. While she was unsure of what was going on with her eyes, these awkward shapes on the edge of her view led to this leather pouch.

“What’s this?” Eliza leaned over and picked up a small pouch, smooth and tan, but it looked worn. She was left with no man, and only with the small bag in his absence. Inside there were tucked a smooth blue stone, and a bookmark.

Her heart fell to the floor a little bit as she now thought she potentially had two missing people on her hands. Her heart already hadn’t withstood the first missing person. They were supposed to set out for Alaska in two weeks, and the tickets were nonrefundable. It wasn’t the money, she had plenty in savings given her lack of parents and immediate inheritance. Though she would have given every bit of gold in her life for the privilege of her family.

Buster took a sniff around the room, and didn’t seem to pick up anything. Sighing, she turned over the items again in her hand, looking down at them, studying them as if they might tell her exactly what Fover had been thinking last when he set them down. The blue stone didn’t look like it belonged anywhere from around there. Perhaps a strange shore, on a long ocean away from here. Though Eliza had learned no distance would further her from herself; that would follow her no matter where she traveled to. Another sigh.

A debate ensued internally; wait for him? However highly unlikely, maybe he would show up with a great excuse, like snacks. But Eliza’s gut told her that Fover wasn’t coming back without help, and her sitting here would only prolong it. She agreed with herself to at least wait long enough to pack a bag, prepare to face whatever Fover had gone to face. Whatever it had been, he must have intended to come back because he hadn’t even left a memo indicating his direction.

Looking outside, Eliza knew that there wasn’t much daylight left today, and she had no indication which state, or local road even, that he had taken. Somewhere around the darkly lit cabin was a small stash of lore books that Fover had been working on. Ever since he had acquired the property a year and a half prior, he had gone from being a compressed, depressed New York man to an uplifted free guy out in the middle of nowhere Montana. As many before him had said in different ways, sometimes getting lost is the way to find yourself. Old wisdom.

Thudddd, A small book tumbled off of the shelf behind her. Whipping around, Buster gave a small low growl; unusual for the professional greeter golden retriever.

Instead of a large pair of claws, perhaps a yellow or red pair of creepy eyes, a small pair of green eyes peered out from behind the rest of the remaining books on the shelf, followed by a very small quiet meow.

“Miko!” Eliza had forgotten about the young, small feline that Fover had adopted there in New York, he had just moved Miko home with him permanently there in Montana. She scooped up the small tabby. Not even full grown, the small kitty didn’t look underfed, but she could use a little loving, and a little bit of kibble too.

After settling the cabin in, and getting everyone fed including herself, she went back to the problem at hand. Why couldn’t a small earring go missing? A book maybe? No, not one person, now two. Eliza’s long hair cascaded around her slim face, obscuring the frustration that stretched across her forehead.

The book that had fallen to the floor was a black book, just a plain hardback with a worn dark cover; but no print was on it. It had been sitting on the end of the shelf before Miko knocked it off trying to beg for treats.

Funny it had no text, but as soon as she reached down to touch it, fog surrounded her. It wrapped her vision, and she couldn’t make out the animals sleeping in front of her by the fire, she couldn’t see anything. A voice started to whisper from the corners of the fog, the notes wafting in as the dense weather fully enveloped her vision. Nevermind I’m in a cabin; sealed in away from the outside…but that’s fine, that’s probably the least strange thing that’s going to happen today. Eliza had learned to take the supernatural edge of life with a sense of humor.

“I can’t believe this….I can’t believe that all this time I’ve been followed. My blood is boiling at this betrayal, we’ve got to hunt down Chulain. Wait…wait…no, stay away from me! Nooo!” A deep voice called out. Eliza was confused; who was he? Who were they running from? All of the sudden the fog shook, and it dissipated as a faint scream fell back into the abyss. The lights of the fire warmed the room once more, and the pair of fur critters curled up on the warm bricks of the fire place. What the hell was that? While other worlds didn’t entirely surprise her anymore, another vague personality appearing from the mists didn’t clarify any better which path she should take in front of her.

And it had all taken place as soon as she had picked up this little black book, - while no letters had been written on the front, the words had poured out into her mind just upon touching it. Was it the book, a property about the item? Or was it something about her?

The person inside the trapped fog had sounded angry, upset, and in need of vengeance. Eliza knew herself how strong anger could feel, but also how powerfully it could drive people forward.

On the inside of the book, the first pages were blue; the exact blue of the small stone tucked in the leather folds. The bookmark, which she hadn’t even gotten time to study the bookmark. Inspecting the bookmark closer, there was a small triskelion symbol on the middle.

Hang on…inside her mind, an image pulled forward from a sleepy place – it was just like what she had seen before. What did it mean? Maybe if she could find anything tracing back to this in the other books, a sense of where Fover had gone could become clear.

Hours ticked by, mercilessly pushing into the late hours of the night, no sign of Fover, and no sign of the symbol. The fire burned low, and she eventually ran out of the small stash of wood lodged neatly against the soot covered bricks.

Nearly out of hope, her hand tiredly grazed over the last book, absent mindedly leafing through the pages for a minute as Buster snoozed with his feet up in the air; chasing a ball in his dreams perhaps. She did note that Miko had taken quite a liking to Buster, folding herself against his warm soft fur, a low purr emanating from her chest.

Then there, on the final chapter of the last book, was a small symbol in the bottom right corner of the page. Not in any of the other tomes, or any of the other pages of this petite library.

It was a forestry book; old, probably written sometime in the early 1900s. It detailed about types of forests all over the U.S.; what sort of weird reading were you getting into out here all alone Fover? Her mind knew very well that his mind could find and pursue a lead like none other; see a path where one hadn’t been written yet. Something else strange, the “Chapter 12” was written in the same blue ink that the stone was made out of.

The page had been folded over; Fover’s fingers had likely also traced these same pages before he took off to wherever he was now. “The Lost 40” cluttered the top of the pages, and the book went on to describe a section of forest in northern Minnesota that had been originally missed on accident by the old logging companies. Preserved now as a national treasure, it was left untouched buried underneath the bounty of trees over half a century old.

In the middle of the chapter was laid out a map, and there was a small body of water, also highlighted with that same blue ink. Now Eliza knew there was something going on. Well no shit sherlock. Eliza had to make fun of herself a little. She had gone from being a blind wanderer in her first days of meeting Fover to now fully gaining her sight, gaining a friend and partner, and pursuing a whole family again to find Mel. It took less to astound her these days, the more she saw of life.

Closing the book, she pulled out her Mac to see how far this place was from Montana. Over a dozen hours. It looked like she was going to be gassing up the Shelby Mustang and packing the critters up the back seat. She would shortly be off to Minnesota. She stowed away dried goods, bottles of water, blankets, and even an extra pillow or two in her Mustang, and then she crawled over to the couch to crash for the few hours she had before it would be time to rally.