1776 {COMPLETED}

The Pilot

  (Savannah's POV)

     It's morning, unfortunately. The birds are chirping and the sun is shining. I must have left my window open, because they are loud. I open my eyes. I'm in the woods? I sit up. "What the hell?" I say a loud. A voice behind me, says, "That's what I thought." I twist my body around to face the man. "Who are you?" I ask. He clears his through and says, "I'm Julian. Who are you?"

  I furrow my brow. "I'm Savannah. Where the hell are we?" He shrugs, "I have no clue. I'm mean probably some where in Oregon. I doubt we moved states." Oregon? "What are you talking about? I'm from South Carolina, not Oregon," I say. He looks confused, "Then how are we 3 feet away from each other?" I stand up, "I don't know, but I don't think we are in Oregon or South Carolina."

  He stands up too, "Where are you going?" I turn around, "To figure out where we are. Don't you want to know where we are and how we got here?" He chuckles, "Well obviously. I wanted to wait for the others. You're the second one awake." I look around. Another girl and a boy lie on the ground, asleep. "Oh. Do you know who they are?" I ask.

  He shakes his head, "I have no clue who they are. Look, Savannah. We are obviously not anywhere near where we yesterday. Do you have a phone? Mine has no service." I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell phone. 'No Service' it says. Julian reads it over my shoulder. "We must be in like Iceland or something. I should have service everywhere," I say.

  The girl stirs in her sleep and sits up, "Huh? What?" She turns around. "What happened?" She asks. I shrug, "I have no idea. We woke up here. There's another guy too." She rubs her eyes, "What are your names?" "I'm Savannah, this is Julian," I say. "I'm Belle. How old are you and where are you from?" She says. "I'm 16 and from Charleston, South Carolina," I reply. "I'm 18 and from Salem, Oregon," Julian says. Belle steps forward, "I'm 13 and from Washington, DC." She's young, really young.

   The boy sits up, "Woah, where am I?" I sigh, "That's what we said." We talk about ourselves. His name is Elliot, he's 19 and is from Albany, New York.

   The four of us walk through the woods, attempting to find civilization. I see a cloud of smoke rising in the distance. "Look! Smoke!" I shout. The four of us run towards the rising cloud.

We arrive at the scene to find a Native American tribe. "Are we on a reservation?" Belle asks. "I guess? How did we get here?" Elliot says. I walk up to an Indian man. "Excuse me, sir. Can you give me directions to the nearest city?" I ask. He screams and pulls out of a bow and arrow. I run back to the group. "That didn't work. Do any of you speak Native American?" I ask. They shake their heads. The Native American man keeps his bow and arrow pointed at me.

I notice a Caucasian man tied up to a tree, wearing strange clothing. Another Native American hauls us towards the line of trees. I end up next to the stranger and Julian. "Hello." Says the man, in a British accent. "Hi. Do you know where we are?" I say. He thinks, "Well, we're in the new land. That's all I know." New land? "Sir, I don't know what you are talking about. What's the new land?" He laughs, "They say it's going to be called America. The true Americans are revolting, against the British. These people are getting in the way." Is he talking about the American Revolution? Julian leans towards the man, "What year is it?" It's 2017, obviously. This guy is just nutso. The man laughs again, "It's January 1776! How long have been in those woods?" Julian bites his lips. "Apparently negative 241 years..." I mutter. Julian cracks a giggle. He's crazy, unless George Washington runs through this camp, the guy's insane. He rambles on about the revolutionary war. Julian passes along the message about "being in 1776."

Everyone laughs, except Belle. I lean forward, to look at her, "Are you okay? We are going to get out of here." She nods, "What if we're are really in 1776? I knew the guy looked familiar, I'm pretty sure he's Benedict Arnold. We just learned about him in history class. The resemblance is uncanny." I raise my eyebrows, "No way. Time travel isn't real." I turn to the British guy. He did look like Benedict Arnold, we were talking about him in AP History. "What's your name?"