Chapter 2: Lost

Ly's first sensation was of pain. It throbbed with her heartbeats, slamming against her already-aching head brutally. She moaned, moving around so as to lessen the pain somehow, but it was to no avail. If anything, the pain only intensified, and Ly was forced to open her eyes.

Leaves. There were leaves hovering above her. Trees' foliage, she thought distantly, remembering the days back in her childhood when she would find refuge in the forest close to her parents' home when she needed time to think for her writing, or when the children became too brutal with their teasing and bullying. It had looked exactly like this, right then, and Ly couldn't help but wonder if Grandma would be mad when she came back with her back wet and with grass stuck to it.

Then reality returned, and Ly remembered. She was no longer twelve. She was twenty-nine, had a husband, a car, a house, and two kids–

Oh, God. The kids.

Ly scrambled to her feet and looked around frantically. Her sons. Where are they? Oh, God, she would never be able to forgive herself if anything happened to them. They were the last of her relatives, after all, and they were her…well, her sons.

"Erik!" Ly cried at the top of her lungs. "Drake!"

No response. Her voice echoed in the silence. Ly tried to fight down the growing panic in her chest as she looked around the clearing of the ravine for any sign of two black heads. Or even one. Just one would be fine. But they had to be here. Where are they? Where are they?

"ERIK! DRAKE!" Ly screamed. Once again, nothing answered her but the rustling of leaves looming above the lone mother, like they were trying to answer her query but could not. Ly couldn't care less about those sounds. Her ears were tuned to hear only the answering cries of her sons and nothing more.

Panic was like a tsunami now, flooding her brain and making Ly's sight flash white with fear. She stumbled, but didn't care and got up again. She felt no pain in her knee where it had slammed against the hard earth. The panic drowned out everything. Everything but her sons' voices. But they didn't come. They didn't come.

They were in the car, Ly thought, unable to calm down. They were in the car, and then it started to shake. The brake wasn't working. Did they die? Is this heaven? No, that couldn't be. Heaven could not be this cruel. Or maybe this was hell. Her frantic mind came up with thousands of possibilities as her eyes darted around the clearing. She couldn't find what she was looking for. Where were they?

"DRAKE! ERIK!" Ly screamed again, an unchecked tear slipping down her cheek. She paid it no heed and began to wander, her eyes starting to cloud over. She had to find them, wherever they were. Everything else could come later. As long as those two were safe, she could surely find a logical reasoning for this–

"Mom!"

The two voices, raised as one and nearly the same, made Ly's heart jump to her throat. But that was no longer from fear. A relief so strong that it made her go weak in the knees took over, pushing back the hysteria she'd felt. She turned and bit her lip automatically in an attempt not to cry as two shapes slammed against her chest, nearly taking the breath out of her. But she couldn't care less. Her arms came up and wrapped around them, pressing their faces against her shoulders. She relished in their warmth and their breaths against her skin through the jacket she wore. Ly let out a tiny sob. They were safe.

After what seemed like an eternity, when Ly was done making sure she would not break down and cry right there in front of the twins, she let them go. Two identical faces, scared and relieved at the same time, looked back at her. Their eyes were not red, and she wondered why. But of course, they had each other, no matter what. She had no one.

"Where are we?" Drake asked fearfully, but he didn't sound as afraid as a child of fourteen trapped in the middle of nowhere should be. The presence of his mother had soothed him more than anyone else's could. He was not beyond the belief that whenever mothers are near, even the world's ending couldn't hurt you.

Beside him, Erik was glancing around. They were standing in a ravine all right, circular, and a stream led right through it, pooling into a lake at the bottom where they stood. He looked down. They were trampling on very pretty wildflowers. Neither of them had truly cared in their quest of finding their mother. In fact, she didn't seem to notice very much either. Instead, her dark, sharp eyes were all but lancing right through them, looking for signs of injuries.

Erik shivered. He hated it when she does that. He had the feeling that she sees right through him, and it was disturbing.

Ly did not respond at first, merely looking between the two. Then she sighed, taking in their surroundings properly for the first time. She came to the same conclusion as her eldest son. Wherever this place was, this was not Houston.

"Well, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore," she remarked wryly. The corner of Erik's mouth lifted, but Drake, the one who was harder to humor, only looked more nervous. Darting another glance around the completely alien place, he turned pleading dark eyes toward his mother once again, seeking a good answer.

Unfortunately, Ly found none. She was busy scrutinizing their surroundings. They'd been in the car, she thought, her eyes flickering from the clear lake to the flowers at her feet to the bushes surrounding the edges of the ravine and the willow tree next to her. They'd been driving down the road…then it started to shake. Then, darkness. And poof, they were here.

But where was here? And where was the car, although Ly doubted it would do much good in this terrain. She frowned deeply, her hand on her hip. Finding no logical answer, she turned to the most rational of solutions available to her: seek help. People. Right, she had to find people. Having her sons in her sight was good. Having them in the middle of the wilderness was very, very bad. She all by herself might not have worried her, but this…

Ly started up the hill, her eyes still glued to the environs with amazement. This just didn't make sense. When they were driving down that street, on either side had been more cars and stores. They were not even on a bridge. How could that falling sensation be explained? As a nonfiction writer, Ly believed most fiction to be rubbish and did not waste much time on it.

So naturally, the journalist was resorting to every possible explanation available to her. She was a firm believer that "for every action there is a cause" – and one that involves mathematics rather than the magic and mystery her sons were so fond of. Ly shook her head. When would they ever grow up and realize that magic wasn't real? Couldn't be real?

They'd reached the rim of the ravine, and still Ly had found no answer to any of her questions. Their location was already suspicious. Whatever happened, Ly knew she did in fact live in Houston, Texas, and if anything, she should end up near the ocean and not the forest. Unless, of course, some sort of tornado picked up the car and hurled it to the forest areas out of town.

Ridiculous, Ly scowled inwardly. It wouldn't have explained the falling sensation. But what would an explanation to that be? That they somehow melted right through the ground and get sucked into the center of the earth?

No, that wasn't possible either. Ly was completely screwed up. There was nothing that fit the equation and actually made an ounce of sense. If she had not been so steadfast in her beliefs and virtues, she might have had to admit that yes, there was something fishy here, and maybe logic might not be able to explain it after all.

Mark would be delighted, Ly thought glumly. Her estranged husband was a profound believer in the paranormal and other fictional things. He had once claimed that Middle-Earth, the world created by Professor Tolkien, was real. It had taken all her power then not to punch him in the nose or say something that would be insulting and sting for a long time.

Ly brushed aside a few bushes and stepped upon even ground once more. She was in a thick forest, as she'd seen from within the ravine. The trees were old – very old, in fact, judging from the look of them. Slowly, Ly approached one and stroked a finger on the dark, almost-black bark. It gave way under her fingernail, and she rubbed the powder between her fingers, feeling its dampness. It got wet recently, she decided, from rain, perhaps.

To confirm this, Ly looked down at her jeans. The hems were darkened by dampness. It was only then that Ly realized the air was humid. She'd lost every sensation of touch after the near-fright Erik and Drake had given her. Only now was she truly out of it, and Ly's frown deepened. She should've reacted faster.

Pushing the matter from her mind temporarily, the journalist glanced around. Erik and Drake were standing near a large oak tree several feet from her, looking over an exceptional tall root at something. The stillness in their bodies made Ly's alarms go off. They were in the wilderness. She would not doubt there were snakes and other nasties out here to get them.

Silently, Ly walked toward them, her shoes making small squelching noises underneath her feet. She reduced the noises as much as possible and continued walking. When she was right next to the twins, Ly glanced down at what they were looking at.

It was a brown rabbit.

Ly's worry suddenly fled, replaced with bubbling annoyance. "What do you think you are doing?" she snapped, and the twins jumped a foot into the air, nearly knocking against her. She sidestepped at the last moment and managed to catch both their hands before their bums could hit the muddy earth.

"Mom!" Erik cried, exasperated.

"Don't sneak up on us like that!" Drake finished. Two pairs of eyes glared accusingly at Ly. She raised her eyebrows. They went to the ground instantly. Ly had an iron grip of power over her sons, she knew that, and she let nothing slip, especially not on the issue of respect. Shaking her head, Ly looked away from them and toward the rabbit. It was still there.

"Now, that's odd…" Ly climbed atop the big root and jumped down, landing on her feet like she'd done it a thousand times before – which she had. As a journalist, it was mandatory for her to travel, getting into dirty areas to take notes for articles. Ly had gone through enough forests to know the rougher parts than just "take a walk".

She motioned for the twins to stay where they were as she approached the rabbit. It was lying on its belly, its ears drooping. That was already a sign. The rabbit looked pretty much alive, but she knew it was not. Live rabbits do not let their ears droop like that. And besides, now that she was close enough, Ly saw that the ground underneath the creature's belly was covered with red.

A dead rabbit with a split belly. That would have held no interest to Ly whatsoever except for the odd position it was in. How would its belly have been wounded when it was lying with its back facing the sky? The back was unmarked. Strange.

"Um, Mom?" Erik called.

"I'm fine," Ly replied distractedly, creeping closer to the body. Indeed, it was unmarked, but it was still bleeding. Wide, lifeless black eyes stared at Ly, but she paid no mind to it. She'd seen grosser. There was that time she did that article on the axe murder in downtown Houston, after all, and she hadn't lost much sleep over it.

Ly's eyes alighted on a branch lying nearby. She grabbed it and pressed it against the animal's side, turning it so that she could see its underside. The fur there was matted with blood, all right, and Ly could see a long, deep cut going from its chest to its tail. She blinked. It was caused by a knife, yes, and it seemed like a long one.

"I don't know what will become of us, having a mother who is eager to see bloodshed like that," Drake muttered from above her. Ly's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but she decided to let it go and concentrated on the task at hand. She poked the cut a little more, and blood oozed out. Most young women who were either not accustomed to blood or feeding their family would certainly have been horrified or at least back away. Ly only frowned again.

The sun shone through clouds and leaves for a moment, casting two shadows over Ly's position. She glanced up to see two pairs of eyes bearing an identical half-horrified, half-awed expression staring down at her. It occurred to Ly that the twins had never actually seen her probing a corpse and looking as though she was examining an entire new, beautiful and puzzling animal before.

She must have looked like a freak, Ly admitted to herself. But she was a freak who was their mother. So instead of grinning awkwardly, Ly only sighed and turned back to her poking. Let them watch if they wanted. Ly had no wish to force them to pick a career she'd chosen for them, but still, it would be useful if they didn't cringe like little girls in front of dead corpses.

Then again, Ly wasn't sure if it was her they were horrified at, or the dead rabbit.

Ly looked at the rabbit again, thoughtful. If there was a knife-mark – and she was sure it was – and the corpse had yet to rot, it would mean human life was nearby. And human life would mean a way out of here and perhaps some proper explanation regarding their location and their situation both. Maybe somewhere safe for the twins as well. It was best they get moving. But in which direction?

Slowly, Ly straightened. She took in the environment, trying to look for – what? What was she looking for? A trail? A footprint? She did not know how to read trails. Her husband would have, of course, what with him being the outdoor whiz and all. But she was not him, and now she tried to dig up memories of the camping trips where he'd dragged her along.

"Nothing walks on air," Mark said, grasping Ly's hand to help her climb atop a small hill. Then he chuckled. "But for a ghost, of course."

She scowled at his bespectacled face. "Oh, please. You know I don't believe in myths like that," she said brusquely. In response, Mark only clucked his tongue in mock displeasure before laughing again.

"Why, of course, Tang," he grinned. "But that would be for later. Discussions, for now, shall involve living things. Come on, sweetheart. Let's get a few lessons into you before New Year arrives." It's the third of February, Ly knew, and she growled at him. But her husband missed the look as well as the sound. He was busy studying something on the ground, then beckoned her to come closer.

Mark pointed to a bunch of violently-snapped twigs. "See here? It's a deer. The imprint on the earth is not so clear, but these twigs and the way they broke tell me that a panicked deer has passed by." He then pointed to another track, suddenly looking interested. "Oh, and look here! A human footprint!"

Ly crept closer, her curiosity piqued. Indeed, on the muddy ground was a rather faded-out imprint of a boot's heel. Old and faded as it was, if she looked at it hard enough, she might just recognize it.

Now Ly stared hard at the ground, trying to make out anything that would help her in her search. The soft, muddy earth was the perfect place for tracks to be left behind, but Ly found none. Not yet. She moved again, glancing at the ground around the dead animal, praying for something – anything – to show up and be of help.

Apparently God was not nearly as unkind as she'd first thought. Concealed behind a bush was a very clear footprint. She bent down a little, frowning at it. It was too small to be an adult's. A child's, then. And a young one at that.

"Mom, look!"

The voice startled Ly out of her train of thought, and she whirled around to see Drake kneeling near her. She'd either been concentrating too hard on her thoughts, or he'd finally mastered the art of sneaking up on people. Glancing toward his right, where Erik stood, she thought it might be a bit of both. Nonetheless, Ly turned her attention to what her sons had found.

Several more footprints, roughly the same size and all barefoot. Just like the last. "Children," Ly mused. "Ah, well. They might be easier to approach than adults."

Erik looked at her, disbelief in his eyes. "Children with something sharp and pointy?" he asked.

Ly considered that. "Still easier than a man with something sharp and pointy," she decided at last, frowning at the footprints. They were stamped all over each other, as though there had been a rather rough argument around here. But then, as she watched, the trail led away from the scene, to their left, and disappeared around another bush. Ly had no problem thinking that there would be more tracks beyond that.

And there were tracks, all right. Ly led the way, all suspicions and fears of the new surroundings and her predicaments temporarily forgotten in her rising joy of meeting human lives again. This place – wherever this was – was starting to make her feel nervous. The tall, looming trees, the slight smell of rot, and something else…that made her feel as though she was being watched.

Following the footprints, they soon reached the edge of the forest. With a sigh of relief, Ly stepped through the last of the bushes, holding out her hands to keep Erik and Drake behind her. Whatever happened, she would never place them in front if they were venturing into strange lands. After all, who knew what lurks behind innocent trees?

Ly soon realized she was mistaken. They had stepped out of the forest, yes, and for that she was glad – but they were not gazing into danger. In fact, they appeared to be standing atop a hill, and as far as the eyes could see, Ly spotted golden wheat-fields swaying in the slight breeze and sunlight.

"Are we back in Vietnam?" Drake asked at last, looking at the fields before him curiously. It was a stupid question, of course, and Ly wasn't sure there was much resemblance in the watery rice fields of her homeland and these dry, yellow fields. But they were planted in neat rows, of course by human hands, and Ly knew with a surge of hope that they would be close to help soon.

"No," Ly responded. She could see a figure in the distance, a dark brown spot moving through the fields – or, more accurately, a small road between the two fields. Raising one hand, she waved it wildly, and the figure seemed to see her, for he stopped moving briefly before starting toward them again, nearly doubling his speed.

Ly smiled. They were back in friendly hands again, it seems.