A World Apart The Jake Thomas Trilogy - By Steven A. Tolle Page 0,22

to get away from these men and go home. The thought of home brought fresh tears which he quickly tried to stop. Tears had no impact of these men; if anything, Jake felt it would bring further cruelty.

"Time to move." Matus said, intruding on his thoughts and drawing a low groan from Jake. "Get him up, Surt."

Surt hauled Jake to his feet, where he stood swaying. Matus looked hard at Jake for a moment and said. "Looks like you will be carrying him, Surt." Surt gritted his teeth, but did not say anything. He grabbed Jake and threw him over his shoulder like sack of grain. The group resumed their fast pace and sped off through the forest.

In this position, Jake's lower abdomen was bouncing up and down on Surt's shoulder. All of Jake's injuries screamed at him with every jolt. After several minutes, he felt the water and bread coming back up. He tried to stop it, but couldn't, and vomited all over the back of Surt's legs. That brought howls of laughter from the others and a grim smile from Matus. Surt asked to stop and clean off the mess, but Matus would not let the group halt.

They kept up the pace for most of the day, only interrupted by infrequent rest breaks. When Matus called the breaks, Surt would throw Jake roughly to the ground, but Matus made him give Jake water and bread at every stop. Jake was sure that the group hoped he would puke on Surt again, but he was able to keep it down. Throughout the march, Jake tried to relax and develop a plan of escape, but spending most of his time hanging upside down and bouncing off Surt's shoulder made that impossible.

At each break, Jake noticed the subtle changes in the forest. As they progressed, the trees began to thin slightly, with more open spaces appearing. More bushes were intergrowing with the trees. The ground transitioned from a dark fertile color to a lighter brown and more compacted soil. Watching the sun through the breaks in the trees, Jake thought that the group was moving in a westerly direction. That would mean that they were heading towards the rolling plains that Jake saw from the ridge.

The sky was starting to darken when they halted for the night, stopping in a large clearing ringed with trees and bushes. As usual, Jake was thrown to the ground by Surt, the pain from his injuries reigniting. Jake's hands ached from the bindings and he was concerned that they were being seriously damaged. He rolled over to his side and got up to his knees, head spinning. He took several deep breaths and slowly the spinning stopped. He tried to stretch his upper body to alleviate the soreness in his abdomen from being carried. He strained against his bindings, hoping to loosen them to give his hands more circulation.

Jake was left alone with Matus as the rest of the men were sent out to gather firewood. Matus had sat down, with his back to a tree across the clearing, pulled the hood of his cloak up and leaned his head back. Even though he appeared disinterested, Jake could feel the man's eyes on him. Jake stayed as quiet and still as he could, only shifting slightly as he continued to try to stretch his sore muscles.

Soon, the others had returned with firewood and got a large campfire going in the middle of the clearing. The men sat around the fire, eating, drinking and laughing; all except Matus and Surt. Matus sat there motionless, about ten feet away from the fire, like a dark statue. Surt was sitting slightly apart from the rest of the men, tearing at his food while glaring from under his deep brows at, alternatively, Matus and Jake.

One of the men got up and came over to Jake, a waterskin in his hand. "Here, boy…drink." The man said. Jake opened his mouth and the man poured the liquid into his mouth. As soon as he swallowed the first gulp, Jake realized that it was not water. The liquid burned as it went down, causing Jake to cough harshly.

Jake closed his mouth and moved his head to avoid the flow. He was rewarded with a shower of the liquid over his face, stinging and burning as it got into his wounds and his eyes. He fell to his side, coughing uncontrollably, desperate enough to rub his face in the dirt to get the