Glitch #ONC

Chapter Eight

Luke followed Mel to bed, hoping that she would come to trust his words if given enough time. He could feel her uncertainty as he laid down. His hand reached for her, she flinched at his touch but didn't complain or push him away. The long day caught up with him, soon his thoughts turned fuzzy and his eyes slipped shut. As soon as sleep took over his heart lept into action, waiting for the voices to start. 

That night they stayed silent. The pull of the wires and tubes were gone too. Slowly the darkness shifted trees spouted from the earth either side of him and the ground under his feet turned into a well-worn track. He knew the place. 

"Come on Fluke, catch up or you'll join the 'slow ones'." A childish voice called from somewhere in the distance. 

Luke started jogging but he didn't feel like he was getting anywhere. He looked down. His body now that of his eight-year-old self. The unstable knobbly knees that threatened to give out with every stride. Pain shot up his legs. His lungs burned, but he kept running, stretching to reach the other boys ahead.

"Shouldn't you be running with the girls, Fluke?" The tall boy at the front of the pack chuckled, his body already becoming toned from the frequent exercise. 

A forgotten rage pushed Luke forward. He longed to catch up to the boy and throttle him. His memories failed to give him details, but he knew this boy deserved it. The path curved downhill, he used it to pick up speed. Too much speed. A rock shifted underfoot and sent him sprawling in the dirt. Laughter rang in his ears.

Luke slid down the side of the hill, his hands blindly grabbing for anything to slow him down. Eventually, he found the bottom, his ribs collided with a large rock. Winded and wheezing he struggled to his feet. Above him, he could hear the boys howling with laughter. Blood trickled from his eyebrow down his cheeks and mingled with the salty tears silently falling from his eyes.

His knees stung. Blood trailed from the open wounds down his shins and staining his socks. He looked up the hillside to try and find a way back to the race. His thoughts still locked on not being the last to finish. A snort forced him to turn around. 

A large horse scraped the ground with a forefoot, its nostrils flared to capacity.  Luke backed away, but the steepness of the hillside hampered his progress. He held his breath as the horse snaked its head side to side, teeth bared and eyes white. Sensing his own demise he shut his eyes and cowered.

The hoofbeats sounded like thunder as they approached. Terror making them ring in his ears.  He felt the sting of the horse's tail hairs as they slapped his cheek and arms. With his eyes open a crack he watched the horse turn and flee. A rock larger than his fist landed less than a metre in front of him.

"No time to be resting, you need to be training for your examinations." A male guardian had a second rock in his hand, poised to throw it if necessary. "Get up here now." 

Luke heard his classmates, the middle grounders and then the 'slow ones' labouring along the trail as he struggled up the embankment. His hands ached from holding onto the grass tufts. He slid down twice, re-opening the scabs on his knees and making them sting.

The guardian stood there, looking down on him, the dark shield across his face obscured any emotion. "You'll miss lunch if you don't hurry up."

Luke stretched up a hand, almost at the top. He expected the guardian to take a hold of him and help, but the man stood silent and unmoving. His belly scraped along the sharp rocks at the edge of the path as he hauled himself up. He was sweating and exhausted. 

"Come on." The guardian shoved Luke forward, "One mile until home."

Luke looked defeated, but the barking and shoving of the guardian forced him to take up a pathetic jog. He winced with every footfall. His hopes of lunch quickly fading with the shifting of the sun over the trees. He forced himself to think of something else. Something positive and powerful to keep him going.