Chapter 3: Survival of the fittest

Will stared at the little creature in his hands. Its strange face looked so expectant, its mouth spread in a wide smile, its dark eyes radiant. What had he gotten himself into?

"What are you?" he managed to ask, his mind reeling with questions.

"I'm Kokomon," it replied enthusiastically.

Will raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, Kokomon," he tried out the name, "But what are you exactly?"

Kokomon gave a giggle.

"I'm a Digimon."

"And where are we?"

"We are at Coela Beach."

Will felt none the wiser. This little creature, eager as it was, did not prove helpful at all. Whatever it said it was, he had never heard of such an animal. He put it to the ground carefully and got up to look around.

"What are you doing, Will?" asked Kokomon, looking up at him.

"I am trying to find a way out of here," he muttered.

The beach stretched as far as he could see, with what he thought to be an ocean to the one side and a thick line of trees to the other. Above the rich green treetops he could make out the peak of a mountain, somewhere farther from the coast. He turned around to see the same picture—but there was something else. Along this side of the beach stood rectangular boxes. Will could not tell whether they were small or just far away, but they seemed to be the only clue he had about this strange place. He started walking in their direction.

Once he had realized what they were, Will started running towards the rectangular shapes. In his haste to reach the phone booths, he neither noticed Kokomon falling behind, nor that the sand around the booths had obviously been awhirl only a short time prior to his arrival.

He checked his pockets for change, found none, but took the receiver anyway. He dialled the number of his home phone and waited.

"This number is currently unavailable," announced the recorded message and ended the call.

Will stood there for a moment, the receiver still in his hand. What had he done wrong? He looked around, his eyes finding the blue of the sea. Maybe, it dawned on him, maybe he was not at home anymore. Maybe he was somewhere else. And if he was, he needed to include the area code.

He tried again, and this time he sighed with relief when there was a ringing tone.

Kokomon emerged in his field of vision, slipping into the phone booth between his feet.

"What are you doing?"

Will put a finger to his lips.

"What does that mean?" asked Kokomon, its high-pitched voice drowning out the receiver.

"It means you need to be quiet," he snarled, concentrating on the sound from the plastic pressed against his ear.

The little creature looked hurt, but did as it was bid.

On the other end, his father picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello?" answered Will and felt a wave of relief wash over him. "This is Will. Dad, listen, I don't know where I am, but I need you to come and get me."

All he heard was static, and then his father's voice interrupted by more static.

"Yes—this—his dad—can get him if—want—in the study." Then, more distant than before, "Will—someone—phone for you. I think—friend—catch his name."

"No, dad, it's me!" Will shouted, hoping that raising his voice would make the message clearer. And it did.

"Will?" he heard his father ask on the other end of the line, and he felt his heart jump, but the feeling did not last long. Realizing that his father had no way of getting him out of wherever he was if he did not even know himself had slowly started to dawn on him.

"Will—are you? Where—your sister and—"

"Joanna and Michael? Are they not at home? Where are they, dad?"

"They are not—I could—their rooms. I thought—with you."

Will felt his mind start to reel at this realization. Somehow, he had managed to take his siblings with him, he was sure of it.

"Dad, I'll find them, and then I'll find a way home. Don't worry," he replied, his voice oddly flat. He hung up, ignoring his father's voice getting through the static in snippets. The thought of his younger siblings had put things into perspective. He stepped out of the phone booth. He had only taken a few steps when a soft sound made him stop.

"Will?" asked the shy voice at his feet, "Where are we going?"

He looked down at the little, brown creature, into its expectant eyes. He knew he had not been all too friendly. He squatted down and grasped the creature gently.

"Kokomon, is it?"

The creature nodded eagerly. "Yes?"

"Well, Kokomon, we are going to find my brother and sister. Are you in?"

The Digimon gave a wide smile, showing off its small, sharp teeth.

"I am in!"

He was just about to pick up the little Digimon and carry it, when a noise from the forest made him stop dead in his motion. He was sure he had heard a voice, and a human voice at that.

"What is it?" Kokomon wanted to know.

"I don't know. I think there's someone there."

Will took the creature into his arms and headed for the treeline. If there was somebody else in this strange place, he was determined to find them.

As his foot touched the sand-covered grass, a figure crashed through the undergrowth, passing him at a rapid pace. It was a boy, about his age, as far as Will could tell. His dark skin and wild, black hair contrasted with a bright orange headband. Will turned around to see the boy race on towards the beach, and had to chuckle when he saw that he was actually wearing sports clothing.

"Hey," he shouted, but the boy did not turn around. Instead, he seemed to recognize the phone booths, gasped, and ran off along the beach.

"What's with him?" Will asked himself loudly.

"I don't know," came the answer from Kokomon in his arms.

Will watched the boy run along the beach, his sneakers leaving deep footprints in the yellow sand.

"I guess we should follow him," Will mused and looked down at Kokomon. It nodded in agreement.

He started into a slow jog, following the footprints in the sand. They even had about the same shoe size, he noticed. On the horizon, he saw the boy as a small, black shape. He really was athletic to have gone so far in such a short time, Will thought.

Suddenly, he heard loud noises behind him. Something big hit the ground, causing a tremor he could feel in his feet. He turned around to see a large tree lying on the beach that had not been there moments ago; it had been cleanly cut in the middle, the other half of its stem still rooted at the line of trees. Then Will saw what had cut the tree: an oversized, bright red stag beetle with razor-sharp mandibles. And he started running.