WA
988 posts
Tom stood suspended in mid air for a half second then dropped like a stone.. One
minute he was forging forward on the path focused on reaching the village before
nightfall. Now his feet instead of striking dirt passed swiftly through the scattered
underbrush supported by a thin membrane of twigs and sticks. Below
an empty void led to the entrance of a tunnel spiraling downward into the depths. He
flung his arms out scrabbling desperately for purchase but only found sheer rock. His
fall was being slowed slightly as the tunnel angled steeply to more resemble a slide He
slid easily on the smooth stone his backpack acting as a sled before suddenly being
expelled into the open. Looking down Tom only had time to glimpse an oval shaped
dark pool surrounded by steep rock walls before he plummeted feet first into the still
water. Gasping at the force of his immersion and the cold of the water he swam
hurriedly for the surface where he drew breath. A quick survey of his surroundings
confirmed his initial glance. The pool was ringed by smooth rock walls stretching high
above him. Almost fifty metres above the walls opened and the afternoon sky could
clearly be seen framed in a circle of stone. About ten metres above Tom a round
opening showed in the rock face. It was from here that Tom had been catapulted.
Tom weighed his options quickly. Searching with hands and feet he managed to find
a small ledge about a metre under water. Although it was small he was able to stand
on it with one foot at a time and rest from swimming. A tree root from one of the
massive elm trees hung over the pond searching for water.. Cracking rock as it came
it now hung suspended a metre above Toms head. Drawing his sling from his
shoulders he fitted a stone from his pouch. Using the weight of the stone he cast
the leather strap until it looped around the narrow end of the root. Gingerly taking the
weight he slowly drew the pliable end root towards him. Time and again the task
proved too difficult with the loop slipping from its tenuous grasp. Tom grew steadily
colder as the afternoon sun moved toward the mountains and long shadows settled
across the forest. Again and again he struggled with the root. Leaving his task at one
point he swam the circumference of the pool searching diligently for a hand hold or
blemish that might allow him some hope of making his way out. The walls stretched
upward smooth as marble on all sides. The root though thin appeared to Tom to be
his only refuge at this stage. If he could pull the pliable end low enough he may be
able to climb a small distance from the water at least. The body of the root
disappeared into the rock face about ten metres up. Tom hoped on closer inspection
he might find handholds further up.
He returned to his task this time achieving immediate success. On first attempt the
strap settled neatly into a fissure with the stone snugly locking on the other side.
Elated tom gently pulled the strap until he gratefully grasped the gnarly end of the
root. Stopping to take stock he glanced around and was dismayed to see ripples
spreading from the outer edge of the pool. The ripples couldn't have come from him
and every where else the pool was as still as glass. While he had been busy it seems
he had attracted some company. Tom searched the waters quickly. Whatever had
caused the ripples was no where to be seen. Seizing the root he pulled himself up
hand over hand until he was above the water. Muscles bulging he strained higher and
higher till he reached the rock face. Here the root had forced its way through the
rock many years before. The tree it came from had stood for centuries and had many
other sources of water. Its natural instinct to seek out water led it to send roots
hither and yon. A small crack in the rock face led back no more than a few feet. Tom
thrust his hand in groping for access only to come up against a solid wall. Muscles
aching he scanned the walls. The chute through which he had been ejected was now
about two metres above him. It may as well have been on the moon for all the
chance he of reaching it. Even if he had the smooth sides provided little opportunities
to climb back up. Tom glanced down. The root though it looked solid actually proved
to be quite unsubstantial. With Tom's weight it easily bowed and nowhere could be
found a perch to support him. The only thing that kept him from the water below was
the strength of his muscles and they now were growing weak from the exertion.
Minutes longer he hung there hoping on hope that a solution would present itself. He
looked again at the pool the sun now was well in the wain and shadows spread across
the surface. From where he hung there appeared to be no movement in the pool.
The still cold water was now like its surroundings. Smooth and featureless. Slowly and
inevitably Tom felt his strength go as he quietly lowered himself back into the water.
As if to mock him the sun at the same moment crossed its last mountain and the
wood slipped into the dark abyss of night.
NSW
378 posts
nb: the suns last light shows a shadow in the water not seen before...cavan
WA
988 posts
Tom felt fear and despair settle on him like a mantle. An uncommonly brave man, he
was by nature optimistic and steadfast. The circumstances in which he now found
himself however offered little opportunity for hope. If he could have seen what lay
beneath his feet at the bottom of the pool moreover he would have further despaired.
The chute through which he had fallen was no cunning trap set by heinous hand. It
was a natural fissure cleaved by the fury of a young volcano in its youth. As its
power waned the hole remained as a symbol of its fiery menace. From time to time
over the years forest debris conspired to cover the opening and this had been such a
time. The path forged by wayfarers approached the crevice by necessity. Steep
cliffs and impregnable undergrowth funneled the track toward the perilous opening.
Local travelers with knowledge approached the area with caution.
Far below Tom's feet now rested the fleshless white bones of creatures both man and
animal. Strangers to the path they also had shared his fate.
As the sun had set and darkness settled Tom had contemplated his lot. If not for the
cold that even now infiltrated his bones and the discomfort of his resting place he
could have described what he saw as breath taking. The still water of the pool acted
as a mirror reflecting back up the shaft. To the opening far above him and then
further to a multitude of sparkling stars. He wondered that such an evil situation
could be clothed in such beauty.
Tom had been in the water now for over three hours. His mind diligently searching for
an answer to his plight. Like many before him he rested one foot at a time on the tiny
ledge. To rest his legs he reluctantly swam for short periods only to return to the
tenuous security of his perch. In his mind he felt safer there with his back partially
protected by the smooth wall of his prison. For Tom now knew something else shared
the pool with him.
He felt the first movement not long after sundown. Subtle and slight, barely
noticeable but movement it was none the less. Almost like a caress he felt the water
below his legs surge then grow still again. Now as he swam to relieve the tension on
his legs he felt it again. A definite displacement of water under his feet.
Returning to the ledge Tom shuffled out of his back pack. Close weaved as it was,
the water had still infiltrated it. His bread was ruined but he gratefully wolfed down
the remainder of the cheese. He then unleashed his sling. Eyes now accustomed to
the dark, with a practiced swing he once again hooked the root end and drew it to
him. Divesting himself of the backpack he lashed it to the root with the leather strap.
The weight of the bag now held it above the surface easily within Tom's reach.
Unencumbered he swam again. This time however instead of remaining close to the
ledge he moved around the wall. Avoiding the pool centre where he felt vulnerable
Tom slid along moving gingerly until he was more than halfway around. Resting
momentarily he again felt movement and with a shock felt his foot touch upon
something. Rather his foot felt something then it felt nothing.
Turning quickly he struck out for the middle of the pool. Reaching it he sucked in
breath, hyperventilating for a moment then ducking below the surface he dived deep.
Almost immediately he was struck in the face. Tom reeled back in horror. Swinging
wildly he fought back striking at the unseen attacker Then again another blow this
time to his leg then a third to the chest. Tom froze. He now knew what his adversary
was.
Expelling his breath slowly he hung in the water suspended between surface and
murky depth.
Again he was struck but Tom made no move to retaliate. Remaining still he stayed
until he felt his lungs ready to burst then surging upward he strained once more for
the night air.
When he surfaced he was no longer in the centre of the pool but rather almost
against the far wall. Tom gasped for breath filling his depleted lungs, then as his wind
returned he roared. It was a roar of defiance. A roar of courage. But most of all it
was a roar of hope.
For Tom had found a door to his prison.
NSW
5786 posts
tom needs to get off the drugs
WA
23695 posts
you forgot "I tied an onion to my belt, as was the style at the time..."
NSW
894 posts
This one time at band camp.....
WA
6277 posts
Come on, you can't keep us hanging like that.
It has to be a machine of some sort, right?
Or the loch Jeff Fennech monster?
I bet Notwal would have an opinion on this... (where has he been lately?)
WA
988 posts
As Tom had skirted the perimeter wall, searching as he went he felt movement in the
water. At the same time his foot had rested first on a ledge underwater and then on
nothing. Below the ledge there was an empty space. Here was an opening in the wall!
From it he felt the movement of water being gently channeled.
Swimming to the centre he had submerged and hung suspended. If there was
movement of water enough to shift his inert body then Tom knew there would be an
exit somewhere as well as an entry. The first blow had been unexpected and he had
lashed out in response. As he did so he had touched on and instantly recognised what
could easily be called an old friend. Tom had swum with them before many times and
wondered at their stupidity as they blundered and bumped their way along. Blind cave
fish.When he returned to the surface he was delighted to see he had been carried a
number of metres by the underground stream.
Tom pondered his next move. He knew the fish were no threat. Other than blindly
bumping into him they presented no danger. On the other hand they served as well as
he could hope with out a compass, as a direction finder. Tom knew that at this time
of the year the Cave-fish moved upstream to breed. All Tom need do to follow the
stream to its mouth was to swim against the tide of fish.
Tom for his part dare not imagine what else he shared the waters with. His next
decision therefore was an easy one to make. Clearly his options were to find a way
out or wait for something to find him. Tom chose the former.
Leaving the backpack behind he dived again this time moving with the slight current
until he came to the far wall. Here he found what he had hoped for. There was an
opening in the wall large enough to stretch at full length without touching the sides.
It was a product once again of the volcanoes violence. Rising to the surface he drew
in breath then submerging he swum strongly for the tunnel entrance. Entering he
swam blindly occasionally being nudged by the fish on their alternate journey.
Reaching the extent of his endurance Tom felt quickly around him at the tunnel walls.
Smooth as a cylinder they offered nothing more than an unyielding stony impasse.
Tom twirled and retraced his swim.
That he had miscalculated became immediately apparent. The current, slight as it was
had carried him further than anticipated. Now desperately he battled against it
struggling to close the distance between him and the cold night air. Disorientated by
the lack of oxygen he had the fish to thank as they clumsily pointed the way.
Finally he burst to the surface drawing in deep gasps of air. Laying there he floated
on his back for some minutes. Sending up a silent prayer he searched his mind for
answers.
Then the idea came to him.
Swimming to the backpack still suspended on the root he unleashed it and searched
its contents. Jettisoning the spoiled bread he felt around until with a shout he
unearthed a small package.
Balloons!
Tom carried them for a valid reason. Apart from the pleasure they gave small children
he also saw in them a higher role. Their ability to break down barriers as he made his
way across the countryside. The way to a mans heart is through his children. If the
child approved of a stranger often the father would as well.
Tom opened the packet and counted the balloons. Six! They would have to do.
Tom set about removing from the backpack everything of value.
Anything he might need that could be secreted about his person.
Knife, flint, compass and at the last a small parcel wrapped in calico.
Sliding the final item into a sealed money pocket Tom took stock.
All that remained was his cooking pot and a thin membranous sheet. Although light
weight it had a property that was invaluable to the traveler. Its impenetrable surface
allowed heat to be retained. Tom had spent many a cold night wrapped in its warm
encompass. It served as a blanket at night and could be folded easily to fit snugly in
a pocket.
He was in the act of jettisoning his cooking pot when the thought occurred to him.
Pulling his shoelace he looped it through his belt then the pot handle. Finally he let it
drop to near his thighs. Next taking the sheet he tied a knot in each corner. Drawing
the knife he cut slits directly inside each knot. Finally taking his sling he threaded it
through each hole. He tied the end of the sling to his belt before scrunching the
membrane into a ball and sliding it into his pocket.
The balloons took nearly ten minutes to inflate.
Tom drew air into his mouth then expelled it into the balloon without taking it into his
lungs. As a result it took more than twice as long as it would normally. He then gently
returned them to the back pack. Closing the flap deliberately he sealed it loosely with
the latch.
Looking around once more he noticed a lightening of the sky. He had been so busy in
his labours that time had escaped him.
Looking up now he saw the stars receding with the night. Like fiery lances the first
stray tendrils of sunlight split the dark.
Tom rested husbanding his strength for the task ahead. He floated on his back and
breathed slowly in and out. The balloons in the pack now supported him and the slow
growing dawn mirrored the hope growing in his heart.
It was fortunate that he stopped to rest. More importantly it was fortunate that he
chose to float on his back. If he had remained on the ledge he would not have seen
them.
.
Tom saw the shadows before he heard the cry. First a flicker in his peripheral vision
then clearly as they were silhouetted against the morning sky. Two or three of them
had silently circled down the wide shaft. At first he wondered what they were. The
night sky hid their plumage and without any sound he struggled to identify them.
There were many birds in the world. Many of them benign. It wasn't like Tom to jump
at shadows. He waited and watched as they slowly spiralled closer and closer. Still
they floated down neatly arching around the walls of the shaft like outriders on a
carousel.
The lead bird flared its wings momentarily until it was virtually hovering. It had
followed Tom's scent from the very lip of the crater as it was carried up on the still
morning air It knew exactly now where its quarry lay. Rising again on the warming air
it suddenly tucked its wings into its body and dropped like a stone. At the same time
it emitted a blood curdling cry. Spurs extended it swooped down the shaft shrieking
as it came. All that was left to see however at the nadir of its dive was an empty
pond with widening ripples.
Tom had moved on.
Daunted the birds circled waiting for their quarry to surface. Eventually tiring they
rose heavily flapping their way out of the shaft. With their keen sense of smell other
opportunities would soon present.
