Chapter 3 - Down by the River

I stifled a yawn as I crawled out of my makeshift shelter and stretched my back luxuriously. As I eased into the movement, a painful sting shot through my shoulders, making my breath hitch in my throat. 

As I leaned further back into the stretch, something caught my eye. A few paces away from me was the corner of a patterned cloth nestled among the forest underbrush. It appeared to be a weathered wicker basket concealed beneath a quaint white and brown checkered cloth dotted with tiny, delicate blossoms. Carefully, I approached it and peeled back the fabric. 

Inside, I found three vibrant red fruits, each roughly the size of an apple. My stomach growled audibly in response to the tempting sight, and I gave in to my hunger, sinking my teeth into the juicy, succulent flesh and savoring the blend of peach and plum flavors that exploded in my mouth.

The first and second fruits vanished quickly, devoured with relish. But the third fruit gave me pause. I wrestled with the decision, torn between savoring it now or saving it for later. Realizing it might be my only sustenance for the day, I gently placed it back into the basket.

"I must have been quite the sight," I muttered, looking down at my soiled clothing. Determined to cleanse myself of the grime and sweat, I made my way back to the river.

When I approached the water's edge, I noticed the river's newfound ferocity—its banks overflowing from the previous night's rain. Nearby, some town children were clutching wooden buckets, their tiny hands struggling to hold the weight. Each child deliberately kept their distance from me, casting sidelong glances and exchanging hushed whispers.

Kneeling by the river, I cautiously dipped my hands into the icy water, preparing to scrub away the remnants of my muddy odyssey. As I did so, my reflection shimmered on the water's surface, revealing a visage even more unsettling than the one I had encountered the day before.

"You've certainly seen better days," I murmured to my reflection.

Stripping off my lab coat, I carefully submerged my head and torso in the icy water. The biting cold was almost too much to endure for more than a few seconds, but I persisted, dunking my head repeatedly until the skin on my face became blissfully numb.

A face mask would be heavenly right now.

Finished with my cleansing, I rose and slipped my lab coat back on. I absently delved into the pockets, my fingers halting as they touched something familiar—crumpled papers. Carefully, I took out the first sheet and unraveled its creases. The ink was smudged and contorted by the previous day's swim. Through squinted eyes and determination, I managed to recognize a few distinct phrases: "Adjust Coordinates... m phase... power source." As the words formed in my mind, a scalding jolt of pain raced through my head.

Suddenly, the serene riverbank before me faded, and I found myself standing in a pristine, expansive chamber. Rows upon rows of high-tech computers hummed in rhythmic synchrony, their screens awash with cascading codes and matrices. In front of me, dominating the space, was a colossal metallic arch perched on an elevated platform, its presence demanding and ominous. As I drew nearer, a vivid vortex pulsating with a spectrum of colors manifested at its heart. Without warning, a potent and invisible force wrenched me from the ground, pulling me magnetically toward the swirling portal.

I blinked, and suddenly, I was back on the riverbank. A gnawing disorientation gripped me as if I had just stepped off a dizzying carnival ride. My stomach lurched threateningly as I steadied myself on the bank, fighting the rush of nausea.

What was that?

My focus was shattered as a sharp, panicked scream tore through the air. The picturesque riverside scene had morphed into utter chaos as a young boy's flailing form was caught in the river's furious currents. The other children shouted and pointed while a few dashed uphill, desperately searching for aid. 

A cold realization gripped me as I watched the scene unfold—no villager, however swift, would reach him in time to save him from the river's cruel clutches. My gaze skimmed the area, hunting for any lifeline I could extend.

My lab coat!

Its substantial length, knotted, could stretch far enough. I noticed a large, flat-topped stone was nestled a short distance into the raging river. If I could reach it, I'd be just close enough to hurl the makeshift rope of my coat toward the boy. I took a deep breath and waded into the river, the water pushing relentlessly against my legs, demanding every ounce of my strength to remain upright. Moving as quickly as I could, I reached the rock and scrambled onto it. The watchful eyes of the other children, who had fallen silent, were locked on me in rapt attention.

"Grab this!" I cried out over the roaring waters. 

The boy stared back at me, wide-eyed, fear evident in his innocent gaze. I hurled my coat toward him while gripping one of the sleeves tightly. The coat fluttered through the air before landing in the water, the current quickly carrying it beyond the boy's reach. 

"You need to catch it before it touches the water!" I shouted, but it was clear that the boy didn't understand my words. I used frantic gestures, miming catching the other end, before tossing the coat toward him again. But the child made no move to grab it, his tiny hands locked in fear on the rock.

A voice behind me cried out, and I swiftly turned my head toward the group of children. At the forefront stood the young girl from the day before, her gaze fixed on the child in peril as she shouted urgently. I couldn't understand the girl's words, but her gestures were all too familiar. It was the same sign language I had used just moments ago.

I turned my attention back to the young boy, who now watched me with comprehension dawning in his eyes. Without hesitation, I flung my coat toward him once more. His left hand reached up, fingertips grazing the fabric as it slipped past him. Panic surged through me as I quickly threw the coat again, but the relentless current proved too strong for the child to bear with only one hand.

The gasps and screams of the children behind me filled the air. Without a second thought, I dived headfirst into the raging waters. The currents dragged me under, pushing me against jagged rocks and submerged branches that scratched and bruised my skin. I regained some control and pressed my body against the current's stranglehold, swimming toward the surface. As I broke through, I inhaled sharply, filling my lungs with fresh air and mist. In front of me, the young boy's form bobbed up and down in the water before the rapids reclaimed him, dragging him under.

I dove back under and searched for him. Through the murky depths, I spotted his silhouette tumbling with the current. I surged toward him, reaching out and gripping his arm just as a massive piece of driftwood barreled by, missing us by mere inches. I propelled us with powerful kicks toward the water's surface, muscles straining and lungs burning for oxygen.

Our ascent was violently halted as the river smashed me against a towering boulder. Gritting my teeth as the pain sent shockwaves through my body, I threw out my free arm, fingers seeking a lifeline on the slick stone surface as the strong current threatened to pull us further downstream. I found a jagged aperture, and I clung on, the sharp edge digging into my fingers and drawing blood.

Grasping the boy tightly with one arm, my feet searched for footholds on the boulder's jagged surface. I located a small jutting aperture, and with painstaking effort, I heaved us both up onto the rock's sloped ledge. Desperation set in as I surveyed the area, seeking signs of potential aid. Letting out a resonating shout, I strained my voice, aiming to penetrate the ambient noise and signal anyone within earshot.

I carefully positioned my injured hand over the child's mouth and nose, checking for any faint breath. Finding none, I steeled myself and leaned in, attempting to breathe life into his tiny frame. A muffled shout reached my ears. Renewed hope coursed through me as I yelled back, urging the unknown saviors to quicken their pace.

The cries grew closer, but I didn't dare look up again. Panic surged through me as the boy continued to lie still.

Am I doing this wrong?

My vision blurred with hot tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. I leaned down to give the boy one last breath, my chest heavy with despair as his face paled further.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice a tender apology mingling with my silent sobs.

Just as hopelessness threatened to consume me, the boy let out a ragged gasp. His eyes blinked open, and water gushed from his mouth. I helped him to his side, my hand rhythmically patting his back, aiding him in purging the cold river from his lungs.

I glanced toward the shoreline and saw a large gathering of townsfolk, some atop horses, all having witnessed my relentless efforts to save the boy.

A man with curly red hair dismounted from his horse and strode toward the river's edge. He called out to the others on horseback, who followed his lead. They tied a long rope to the saddle of one of the horses and flung the other end toward me. I caught it and tied the rope around myself and the boy, then submerged back into the water with great care.

The men led the horse away while the others on the shore pulled on the rope with all their strength, laboring together to extricate us from the river's grasp quickly.

Once on land, a short, round woman hurried toward the boy, wrapping her arms around him tightly. 

As I watched, I felt a gentle tap on my left hand. Glancing down, I discovered the young girl from earlier placing a soft brown cloth in my hand. Noticing my puzzled expression, she pointed to my right hand, which still dripped blood from the deep cuts on my fingers. I managed a grateful smile and bowed, hoping to convey my appreciation. The young girl seemed to understand and returned my smile.

A man atop a striking horse approached me. I was mesmerized by the steed's appearance, which contrasted sharply with the dusty, work-worn horses I had seen in town. Alighting gracefully, the man strode over to me and gently placed a long, brown cloak over me, shielding my drenched form from the other men's curious glances. His words were soft and musical but utterly unfamiliar to my ears.

Confusion momentarily clouded the azure depths of his eyes. He tried again, enunciating every word with deliberate care, his voice rising in evident frustration. The young girl stepped forward, bridging the chasm between us with quiet words. Her intervention seemed to satisfy him, and he nodded his head as he retreated toward the other assembled horse riders.

The young man's animated discussion with the red-haired rider captured my attention. His vibrant red hair stood out amongst everyone gathered, and his eyes, a deep emerald, were discernible even from my distance. As if sensing my scrutiny, he turned, and our gazes briefly met. Caught off-guard, a blush crept up my cheeks, and I hastily looked away. But not before noticing the amused upturn of his lips. With a commanding gesture, he signaled to the other riders, and they rode out, leaving only two of their number behind.

As we ascended back up the hill, my steps were unsteady—the earlier surge of adrenaline had now faded. My stomach growled, and the memory of my breakfast reminded me that I still had one fruit left in my basket. I used that thought as motivation to persevere up the hill.

Upon reaching the peak, I broke away from the line of townsfolk making their way to the village and headed toward my tree. Locating the basket, I was overjoyed to find the bright red fruit still inside. I bit into it ravenously, sweet juices stinging my fingers as they seeped into my wounds.

"Well, that was dinner," I muttered as the encroaching night air caused me to shiver.

I moved toward the tree's hollow and stepped over the tangled roots when I felt a tugging on the back of my cloak. Turning around, I came face to face with the young girl, who gestured toward the town with her hand.

Exhausted and lacking the energy to resist, I didn't protest the young girl's gentle tug. With a weary but agreeable nod, I let her take my hand, and together, we descended toward the town.

Our journey led us to a wooden house slightly taller than its neighbors. Quickly, the young girl opened the door, ushering me inside. The interior was modest yet inviting. To the right of the entrance was a kitchen with a wooden table and benches flanking it. A woman around my height, her dark blonde hair neatly tucked into a bun, was tending to a flame; with a warm smile, she welcomed me.

The young girl gestured for me to follow her, and we stepped inside one of the rooms. Inside were two beds, each with a wooden trunk at the foot. The young girl directed me toward the bed closest to the door and walked out but quickly returned, arms laden with a bundle of clothes. She handed them to me, accompanied by expressive miming that illustrated changing into the new attire. I smiled at the girl's impressive charade skills, nodding to signal my understanding.

I swiftly removed my soaked clothes, hanging my wet jeans and blouse over the back of the desk chair. A disquieting realization dawned on me as I examined my modern attire: my lab coat was missing!

With this heavy thought weighing on me, I stepped out of the room, my eyes on the kitchen table. Seated, there was the young girl, accompanied by a boy and an older man on the opposite bench. I sat next to the young girl, who smiled warmly at me. I nodded politely at the older man and the young boy sitting across from me, and they responded with friendly nods in return.

After dinner, I offered to help with the cleanup, but the young girl shook her head and mimed sleeping. I complied, returning to the room where I had changed earlier. I slipped under the cozy covers and noticed that the blanket shared the same pattern as the cloth covering the basket I had received that morning. A warm smile graced my lips as I snuggled in, and feeling strangely comforted, I gradually drifted off into a peaceful slumber.