*CHAPTER 3*
~Yuugi's POV~
I never was a particularly sporty kid growing up. While all the other kids in the neighborhood joined their Little League teams and their soccer clubs, I was perfectly content to sit on the sidelines and watch. PE was never my forte. All the little leaguers and soccer clubbers always thought it was fun to clobber me in dodge ball, or trip me in tennis, or elbow me in basketball. But my real problem was running.
You would think I would have become a pretty good runner, bullied as I was through the years. But sadly, this was not the case. Maybe it was because my legs were so much shorter than normal, or maybe I was just out of shape from all those years of spectatorship. Whatever the case, I never cared much for running.
Of course, running for your life…that's a bit different. There must be something about mortal fear that really throws a switch in a person's brain. Suddenly, your screaming lungs and exhausted legs aren't all that important anymore. You're going as fast as you think you can move, but somehow, some way, you find the strength to pick up the pace still more. And you can't care less that you could win the Olympic 100-meter dash at that speed; because all you're thinking is faster, faster, faster! That was the situation Jou and I found ourselves in only a few short hours after waking up in the year 3145.
The hounds were right on our heels. I could feel their rancid, hot breath on the backs of my legs. My skin curdled under it. Jou had me by the arm; pulling me along so fast I was terrified that I would trip. A pair of slobbering, canine jaws snapped bare millimeters from my foot, and I screamed anyways. Jou jerked me forward, not even daring to risk a glance behind him to see if I could still walk—and we still had a half-mile to go before we reached safety.
I suppose I should back up a bit and explain how we managed to get ourselves into such an uncomfortable situation. It was the slaves on Master Colbert's plantation. You see, sometime during dinner (which was nothing more than a watery, tasteless soup), Jou let it slip that we were from the year 2003. Instead of thinking we were crazy, as you might expect, the slaves believed our story and were eager to help us get back to our time. In fact, they were even able to offer a bit of advice: "Ask Elijah".
Elijah, it seems, was some kind of hero. A 30th century Moses/Robin Hood. Not to mention a celebrity among the slaves. The mere mention of his name sent a shiver of awed whispers around the table. When Jou and I asked who Elijah was, it was as though a bomb had gone off in the room.
"Oh, he's Catherine's half-brother."
"Don't you dare lump him in with that snake-haired freak!"
"He knows
everything!"
"He was the first to make it
over the River Styx!"
"If he can't help you, no one can!"
"He's soooo handsome…."
"I wanna be just like him when I grow up!"
"He's so lucky…."
"I wish I could be him!"
"Elijah's—"
"He's—"
It was enough to make your head spin. After everybody had settled down some five minutes later, one of the slaves, a tall, thin man explained: "He was the first slave to escape to freedom. He's a mariner now—he works on ships and gets to see the world…and he gets paid for it, too. If he can't help you, he'll definitely know somebody who can."
"Oh, and how are they going to get to the docks to ask Elijah anything, Robert?" inquired a fierce-looking woman.
The excitement that had sprung up in the room at the mention of Elijah's name almost immediately faded away to a dull silence. "That one could make it, I bet," Robert finally said, pointing at Jou. "But that one…" (He pointed at me) "He's too small."
"Hey! No way am I leavin' Yug here!" Jou growled, balling his hands into tight fists and glaring around the room accusingly.
"Look kid, the fact of the matter is you've gotta get across the River Styx to be out of slave country," Robert replied. "It's a seven-mile run from here, and you've got maybe an hour at best before you're discovered missing and they send the hounds after you. You don't wanna get caught by the hounds, kid."
"They'll rip you up 'till there's nothing left," a little girl solemnly stated.
"And then they'll eat your bones for dessert!" shouted another young voice from the back of the room.
"Yeah? Well, there's no way in hell I'm gonna leave 'im here!" Jou snarled, eyes flashing, daring anybody to disagree.
"Um…Jou?" I whispered, tugging at his sleeve. "Maybe—maybe it would be better if I stayed. You know I'm not a runner. I don't think I could—"
"No way, Yug. I ain't leavin' ya here alone."
Robert smiled a sad smile and quietly said: "You would do well to listen to your friend, kid. You wanna know why they call it the River Styx? Because before you cross the water, you're a dead man. There's no turning back. Just like the Greek River Styx, it separates the dead and the living. You only get one shot, and if you blow it…." He trailed, leaving the rest to our imaginations.
"Ya heard what I said. I won't leave without 'im," Jou firmly replied.
So the matter was settled. We had an hour—no, less than that. Robert had said at best. Less than an hour to make the seven miles to the river. Jou may have thought it sounded doable, but I couldn't think of anything more impossible. And yet I went with him as the moon began to rise, big and full into the starry night sky.
I managed to make it through the first mile without stopping, but even then, I was already wheezing and my legs were dead tired. The thought of another six was torturous. I begged Jou to let me turn back, but he only pulled me along faster.
We ran until I began to feel dizzy and sick. My legs were numb, but my feet were in agony with painful blisters. My lungs were screaming. I was close to collapsing when we first heard the hounds.
It started as a distant roar, like thunder before a storm, growing to a constant din of growls, snarls, barks, howls and snaps. We could see them for just a brief second; an inky, seething blob on the horizon before the moon passed behind a cloud, throwing everything into eerie, distorted shadows.
The sounds of the hounds were drawing ever closer, ever more threatening as we finished the sixth mile. And then, all of a sudden, they were right on top of us. A hundred…two hundred…a thousand huge, snarling, wild, wolfish dogs, eyes glowing an unearthly yellow in the dim moonlight. They truly did look like hellhounds. One glance at those huge jaws and lolling, red tongues was enough to send the both of us into panic mode.
We ran, the hounds never far enough behind, snapping at our heels whenever we lagged. The last quarter mile was a blur of desperate effort to reach the glittering band of water that would save us. All I could think of through my haze of panic and exhaustion was get to the bridge.
And then (Hallelujah!) my feet hit wood. Our footsteps echoed hollowly as we sprinted over the bridge, thundering off the shimmering waters below. So there it was. On one side of the water, two completely terrified kids. On the other, a horde of angry hounds, howling over a lost meal.
My legs finally gave out and I lay on the ground staring up at the stars and moaning. I could taste the watered-down soup from dinner in the back of my throat, and it took the last of my strength to keep it down. I felt as though I was going to die.
"Man…we did it, Yug!" Jou panted, staggering around in an exhausted celebratory dance. "Shit…we did it! Whoo!" He threw his arms into the air and fell flat on his back muttering: "Jesus Christ…we made it…."
We laid there a long time, recovering and gazing up at the stars. At one point, Jou fell asleep, but I was too tired to sleep. I could only lay there, staring into the sky as the moon crept towards the western horizon.
It wasn't until the first gray light of dawn was sneaking out that I recovered the energy to whisper: "the docks."
"Eh?" Jou sleepily mumbled.
"Robert said Elijah works at the docks. We've got to go there."
"Aw, yeah, sure—" he trailed off on a long, deep yawn before getting to his feet and pulling me to mine.
Slowly, painfully, we made our way downriver; past a quiet, sleeping town; past a deserted outdoors market, until finally, we arrived at the coastline.
Far out in the water, past the shallows, huge ships were anchored. Hundreds of men were scurrying along the narrow strip of beach, loading and unloading supplies from several smaller boats. A few were rowing to and from the ships, tiny boats heaped with various objects. The waves were crashing and coating everything with salty foam and a few seagulls wheeled around overhead, looking for handouts.
"I guess dis is it," Jou muttered, and we cautiously picked our way across the sand toward a clump of burly men throwing boxes and crates into one of the rowboats. They noticed us before we reached them and quickly halted what they were doing, eyeing us warily.
"You two coming to steal?" one of them growled.
"N-no," I stuttered, taken aback by the cold tone. "We're looking for Elijah."
The man smiled and answered: "Elijah, eh? Good kid, that one." He turned and shouted over his shoulder: "Oy! Elijah! Ya got visitors!"
The clump of men shifted out of the way to allow somebody through. And out of that tangle of big, beefy seamen stepped the last person I was expecting to see. Long, white hair; brown eyes; thin, fragile form…I was looking at Ryou Bakura.
Author's Notes: Yes, it's short. But don't despair; I've got big plans for the next chapter! Reviews and constructive criticism are much loved. Thanks to BluJay, Angel-Belle and KarribuHater59 for reviewing! You guys keep me going!