Jacob

Jacob fought his way out of yet another nightmare, the stench of the dead bodies on the city streets sharply invaded his nostrils. Throwing back the blankets, he crawled out of his sleeping bag, found the first light of dawn brightening through the tent's waterproof wall.

It had rained last night, but it barely lasted an hour, leaving small dewdrops on the tent's surface. Though, the camp in a tizzy, quickly opening their containers to collect the rainwater for them to store later.

He felt a hard tug on his jacket's collar; a way of Max saying he wanted to be let out again.

"Can it, will you? I'm getting there," Jacob whispered irritably, running a hand over his sweaty face, grabbed his shoes next to his backpack, and put them on. "You are more demanding than the real Max," Jacob muttered under his breath.

He slept badly again that night, tossing fitfully through wild dreams in which dozens of those monkeys tore through his flesh, and the giants would pluck him out of the streets and squeezed him to death. Though he always ended up again in that land of black fog, the cherry blossom tree loomed ahead of him. And then, he would wake up with a start; the popup plastered right on his face.

[Jacob Ward]

[Order: The Erudite Level 1]

Jacob still had no idea what it meant. He knew the meaning of the word, which meant intelligence or with vast knowledge, but he didn't know what it signified and how it connected to the world around him. Brett did say that the world operated as a video game, but Jacob thought that was such nonsense. If it were a game, they would have at least three lives, having the chance to come back if they died. He had played Connor's games many times, and the main character always had a chance to respawn back on the last save, or something of that sort. However, the dead people he saw in San Francisco looked as dead as a doornail.

"Not here," Brett said with excitement. "In here, we only get once chance."

Jacob thought Brett was a bit weird since he seemed to be more interested in learning about that than their survival.

It had been a few days since those little popups appeared in front of everyone's faces, and although he couldn't see what everyone had, the ones he got startled him awake it seemed he scream to wake up the entire forest. He still hadn't gotten used to it, showing up every time he woke up.

Jacob zipped up his jacket, hastily put on his robes and cloak. Before he got out, he grabbed his backpack and put it around his shoulders, which had a book he had been reading the past few days, a book he took from his grandfather's basement. Bound on the cover was the title: King Henry VIII, The Rise, and Fall of a Dynasty. The cover seemed interesting enough, embroidered shapes of gold and red flowers, of a mighty king sitting on the throne. He thought at first that it was going to be some fantasy epic, not realizing that it was a history book. But as one of the nine books he managed to shove into his backpack, Jacob had no choice but to read it to pass the time.

There was no use putting his clothes in there when Connor already placed his stuff inside his bag. He wanted him to place his computers and games in there, but Jacob thought they didn't have electricity to power any of it, and would be a waste of time. Instead, he grabbed the books. If Connor wanted some entertainment, this would be the best time to start reading, Jacob thought at the time giddily. Connor didn't appreciate it when he found out that he brought, in his words, junk and fire trash, threatening to burn the books to fuel the campfire. Jacob never left it out of his sight ever since.

Before he crawled out of the tent, he grabbed the dagger his grandfather gave him and clasped it around his waist.

Now I have protection, Jacob thought.

It was another brisk, beautiful day, though the dawn still left a cool morning breeze for Jacob to wear the cloak tightly around his body. He turned around to face the entrance, opening the gap wider for Max to crawl out of, feeling a faint gust around his ankles as the creature passed by.

Kenny was on watch duty, sitting up on the nearby tree, his back facing him as he stared off intently into the woods. He looked around for Max, realizing that he must have activated his camouflage, so Jacob gestured for him to be quiet as they sneaked out. Jacob stopped by a stack of boxes on top of the Fosters' hitch rack; the Jeep nowhere in sight, and opened the top box, and took an apple.

They had long abandoned the Jeep after it had run out of gas, and hours later, the truck with it. They decided to enter the woods than continue following the giants' path after they had found litters of dead animal carcasses ahead; some were propped up on poles while others assembled in various poses that would make the Blair Witch proud. Some were torn up arms mustered to form a bloody circle with scalps at the center.

It didn't take long to figure out that it was a grotesque warning, and Jacob hurled his entire lunch out. He barely had the stomach to eat dinner.

It was no longer probable for all of them to continue, so the group decided to venture east after scouting the terrain.

That was two days ago.

Four days since we left San Francisco, Jacob mused, now, we walk the endless woods like refugees.

Jacob felt his muscles ached from all the bags he had to carry the past few days. The rack was one of the three makeshift storage crates they salvaged off the vehicles. They covered them with foliage and shrub, hiding the two cars a hundred feet deep into the woods, out of the path, so that no one would know they were there.

Max revealed himself as they grew farther and farther away from camp. He still couldn't fly due to his clipped, broken wing, but his spirits seemed to pick up with each passing day. He always demanded to be let out at least twice a day. Max still couldn't communicate through words, but his actions spoke louder than his silence, sometimes tugging on Jacob's hair or searing the back of his palm with a little heat when he was impatient or wanting to be let out. Jacob deduced that Max's species were free-spirited, willful, and must love the outdoors for him to be so excited about it, and more than a dog would.

Jacob realized that Max didn't have an anatomical mouth when he planned to feed him the first night with some of his scraps. On their first morning, Max was wholly eager to be let out, and Jacob found out that sunlight was kind of Max's food source, like a plant's photosynthesis. He climbed up the highest tree and basked under the morning light. From then on, Jacob made sure to let Max "eat" at least twice a day, trying hard to come up with excuses for why he decided to wander off from camp. His father, in particular, scolded him heavily for it.

"We are not on Earth, Jacob," his father told him. "This is a very dangerous place. You shouldn't be going off on your own. I couldn't bear it if something happens to you, and your mother won't forgive me. She wants you to be safe, and when we find a way to get back home, she'll be so happy to see you well and intact."

"Are we going to die, dad?" Eli blurted out all of a sudden, taking his father aback.

"No. We'll make it home. We have to."

Jacob didn't dare say a word back. He desperately wanted to tell him and Eli that everything would be okay, that they could come home safe since they had Max. He tried to tell his father that during his walks, Max was with him all the time, and he happened to scare away some of the creatures that lurked in the woods. One day, when Jacob accompanied Max for his morning walk, there were bird-like creatures with feathers as white as snow, perched on top of a tree, sporting razor-sharp teeth. Jacob knew from school that animals with that kind of teeth must be carnivorous. One was brave enough to attack him, but Max did something, mumbled something in a foreign language, and swatted the bird out of the air, leaving a puff of black blood. The rest of the flock flew away in fright.

Jacob wanted to tell his father that Max was keeping the camp safe, but he knew he wouldn't believe him, fearing that his father would take Max away instead.

Or worse, kill him.

Throughout that night, as his father talked to him, Connor, and Eli about camp rules, Jacob remained silent.

Jacob closed his eyes and brought them to the right, following the trick Hyun had told them, and it the popup appeared again.

[Jacob Ward]

[Order: The Erudite Level 1]

Jacob found out that if he flicked his eyes to the left, it would swipe off the current prompt and brought in another set to the forefront, which was a small box of recorded, though summarized, history of all he did since they left San Francisco.

One part especially caught his attention.

[Congratulations! You have earned a Companion!]

[Max, The Adherer: Level 3]

"So, you are an Adherer, huh?" Jacob turned to Max.

Max, walking next to him like a penguin, dawdling as he picked up his big ears and wings above his tiny knees, cast his eyes up to study him, seemingly not understanding what he meant.

"Is that what you are called? An Adherer? Kind of weird name for your people. What does that even mean?"

Max continued to stare at him with a puzzled look, tilting its head back from side to side.

Jacob shook his head. "Of course. You can't speak. Urgh! Not understanding you is such a pain sometimes."

Max tittle his head again, his right ear flopped off his grip and slumped onto the ground. Max almost tripped over them, but he caught himself just in time.

Jacob rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Oh, heck. You are cute enough to get away with it. Okay. This is far enough. You can climb that tree over there."

This time, Max understood what he was saying, taking one more glance up at him before he ran toward the redwood tree and started climbing.

"Remember, don't take too long! Or else, dad will get angry at me again."

Jacob sat on a protruding root underneath the redwood tree as Max climbed up through the thick canopy overhead. Max would stay up there for twenty minutes or so, Jacob observed, so he ate his breakfast—his apple—and took out the book from his bag, and started reading where he left off. Anne Boleyn, a beautiful young queen, was just about to get executed for her crimes of treason after apparently sleeping with her brother when, in truth, King Henry was just bored with her and for not giving him a son. So, he and his court made up these lies so that he could find another wife. Jacob didn't like that part, hating Henry after he ordered the plot. He wanted to know if she would manage to get away from it. For a history book, it had a plethora of plots, counterplots, and twists that made it as good as the fantasy books he had read in the past.

"The past can be fascinating," Jacob murmured, "well, except for being executed for literally anything."

A twig snapped softly, not far away.

Jacob paused, perked his ears up, listening intently. Another twig cracked under someone's weight.

Startled, he quickly closed the book and shoved it inside his bag, putting it back on his shoulders as he pulled the cloak's hood over his face. Jacob peeked out from where he was sitting, saw a dark-robed figure walking between the trees not far ahead, but the robes didn't belong to anyone in the camp. They were black as night, with layered streaks of shimmering velvet under the morning light streaming through the canopy, and it carried some long stick on its hand, like a walking cane or a staff, but it was a lot taller and heavier than the fellow.

Crap! Jacob panicked.

He glanced up the tree to see if Max was on his way down, but he surmised that it was still too early. He tried to find a hiding spot and found a shallow alcove on the sloped hill big enough for him to slip through. Hanging vines and moss-covered most of the entrance, and Jacob had to draw them apart so that he could get inside. He threw the bag in first, and he crawled in next.

Jacob tried to steady his breathing, felt the hammering of his heart on his throat. He covered his mouth when he had the urge to scream, to shout as loud as he could so that his dad and the others would find him. But he had wandered too far, and he doubted they would find him in time.

Maybe Max can get them, Jacob thought, then again, they might kill him on sight, too.

Jacob could hear the rustling of the leaves and undergrowth as the stranger approached closer to the alcove, listened to the flap of his cloak against the breeze and the batter of his staff every time it struck the ground.

Oh, God! Please don't let him see me!

Through the overhanging vines, moss, and undergrowth, the figure loomed not too far away, standing at the root where he last sat. Jacob pressed the palm of his hands on his mouth, clamping it tight, afraid that his mere breath would give his location away.

Another figure stepped out of the bushes, this one also dressed in a fine navy blue cloak, though beneath it hid a magnificent studded leather armor, and a sheathed sword with a silver handle sticking out of its side; a large oval-shaped shield strapped behind its back. The new fellow dwarfed the former by its sheer size, with broad shoulders, brawny chest, and a massive pair of legs and thighs, standing at least seven-and-a-half feet tall as it approached the other. Pulling the hood off, it revealed an oblong-shaped head coated in snow-white fur mucked by mud and dirt, a pair of a deep-black set of eyes, and a stubby, elongated fat snout for a nose. Beneath it held a row of sharp teeth bordered by thin black pair of lips, four of which were canines situated at the arched corners from above and below its jaws.

It was a polar bear.

To Jacob, it at least looked like one, although much smaller than the ones he had seen in the zoo.

The Polar Bear regarded the other with a familiar glance, nodded as the dark cloaked figure drew near.

"Why are you here, Reema? Shouldn't you be somewhere else?" The Polar Bear barked intensely, narrowing his eyes on the other—Reema.

Jacob tried not to make a noise, realizing he could understand them.

"Well, can't I visit my fellow brother?" Reema asked in a high-pitched voice. "Anyway, how are your humans? Dead yet?"