Chase Hatter's Origin of Pangaea

Chapter Eighteen

Somewhere in the endless fields of wheat that graced Sacramento with its presence, the four men set up camp for the night. Cole laid on his back on his sleeping bag, just barely able to make out stars through his tent's material. Silence had fallen over him. His mind wandered to their journey. It was almost over. By this time tomorrow they'd be leaving San Francisco with a signed treaty and a home to go back to. Pangaea. It was one day away. It would be the day that marked their freedom, it would be the independence day they'd celebrate for years to come, but Cole didn't too much care about this. 

What circled in the back of this soldier's mind wasn't the accomplishment that would come from finishing this voyage, but the encounters they'd had while on it. A strange bunch of people, no? Theo Sage, no doubt destined to be one of Pangaea's greatest musicians. Ethan and Elijah Grant, definitely competing to be called some of the smartest men who resided there. And then there was Jack's uncanny ability to identify them as Pangaeans to begin with, no math test necessary.

The only commonality between them was their ability to maintain order and composure in their lives even as the world around them had went up in flames. Maybe that meant something. Maybe their very existence in these wastelands was the tell for Jack to indicate that they were Pangaeans.

Cole was so close to an epiphany that he could almost taste it. If only he had a ticking clock.

Carl, however, had interrupted his thoughts.

"Cole?" The engineer called from outside of the soldier's tent. Cole poked his head out and found Carl towering over him. He was prepared to do nothing else until he saw the panicked expression on Carl's face. He stepped out of the tent.

"What's wrong, Carl?"

"I need your help." He said. "Axel is crying."

Carl took Cole's hand and led the speechless soldier over to the fire pit that the four of them had put together earlier on in the night. From just yards away, Cole could hear Axel's muffled cries. He looked towards the pit and found Axel sitting against a log, his face buried in his arms and a half empty bottle of Whiskey hanging between his fingers.

"What happened?" Cole asked Carl as he stepped over the log and kneeled down beside Axel.

"We were drinking," Carl began, "and he was telling me funny stories. He hugged me. And then he stopped talking for a while. It was quiet. Then he started crying. He said he missed Jack. I offered to go and wake Jack up for him, but he declined."

"Go get Jack." Cole said. "Tell him to come here." Carl nodded and obeyed.

"Axel?" Cole called out. "Are you okay?" Axel pulled his head out of his arms. His face was wet with tears and his body was trembling. Cole recalled Carl's story, how there was silence then tears. Then he recalled Elijah's observation.

Silence is often the realtor of depression.

"Oh..." Cole said aloud.

"I miss Jack." Axel said. Cole thought it was a strange thing to say. If he missed Jack he could just stroll over to his tent.

"Carl's going to go get him." Cole explained.

"You can't get him." Axel whispered. "He's already gone. He'll never find me again. Not in this lifetime. And not in any other."

As Axel said this, Jack came stomping through the dirt and dry grass. "What?" Jack asked. He stepped over the log and kneeled down on the other side of Axel.

"Axel says he misses you?" Cole said. Jack raised a brow. Axel leaned over and began to hug Jack. But, still in a whisper, Axel continued.

"I miss Jack."