A World Apart The Jake Thomas Trilogy - By Steven A. Tolle Page 0,19

Starting to sweat, he decided that he would take off his sweatshirt at his next rest break. After another ten minutes of walking, he saw a fallen log ahead, lying next to the river, which seemed a good place to stop.

He stepped over the log and sat down, his body grateful for the rest. Out of habit, he pulled his phone out and tried to get a signal, hoping against hope, but nothing. He sighed, set his phone on the log next to him and started to pull off his sweatshirt. As he reached over his shoulder to pull it over his head, he glanced down and froze, startled.

In the soft, damp dirt several feet in front of him were shoeprints. He saw several sets of large prints, apparently coming out of the forest to the river and milling along the bank. He let his sweatshirt drop and grabbed his phone. Excited to know he was not alone, he stood and began to follow the tracks as they made their way down the river. As he followed, it was clear that there were multiple people in this group.

He followed the trail for several minutes when it suddenly turned back into the cover of the forest. He tracked it up the slope of a hill and into the trees. The trail was still discernible in the harder soil of the forest, so he continued to follow it. Sweating under his clothing, he was grateful that the air turned cooler as the trees began to block the direct sun. He kept his eyes on the trail and moved as quickly as he could.

He was near the top of a small rise covered in small bushes when he heard human voices coming from the other side. After being alone for the better part of two days, it took him a moment to realize what it was he was hearing. "People!" He thought excitedly. He almost broke out in sob of relief as he imagined rescue and returning to his family.

As he scrambled to reach the bushes, the shout for help died on his lips. At the last minute, his mind warned him that it was possible that these people may have had something to do with him being here. He stopped and dropped to his stomach, slowly crawling through the bushes to try and get a look at these people before he announced his presence. As he reached the top of the rise and gazed down, he was glad he did not shout first.

In the hollow at the bottom of the slope stood four men, talking and, it seemed to Jake, arguing. Fingers were pointed and sharp gestures punctuated the conversation. It wasn't the argument that caused him to feel grateful about staying quiet. All of the men were wearing dark leather clothing, pants and shirts studded with metal rings, with knee-high boots and wide brown leather belts around their waists. A sheathed long sword and dagger hung from the belt of each man.

"What the hell is this...?" Jake thought to himself, unsure of how to react. "Did I come across a weird Renaissance fair or something?"

He was still mulling over what to do when hard, rough hands grabbed his legs and yanked him out of the bushes. He had a brief vision of men who looked like the others and tried to shout when something heavy crashed into the side of his head and everything went dark.

CHAPTER FIVE

The buzzing sound in his head soon became low, harsh voices as Jake slowly regained consciousness, his head aching terribly, body cramping and feeling nauseous. He was lying on his side, head resting in the dirt when he opened his eyes. As he attempted to shift his position to relieve some of the pain, he realized that his hands were bound behind his back with a coarse rope. He cautiously raised his head to see where he was. His movement did not go unnoticed.

"So...the boy lives. Luck is with you, Surt." A rough voice said. Jake looked in the direction of the voice. He could see a large man standing with the four men Jake recognized as the ones in the hollow. He was dressed in the similar clothing as the men he was with, except this one was wearing a dull metal breastplate over his shirt with a dark cloak hanging off his shoulders. He was tall and muscular, with long shaggy black hair and dark eyes staring out from under thick eyebrows. His