It was snowing lightly when Maxwell awoke. He was laying in a grassy field looking up at a grey sky. The snowflakes melted as they peppered his exposed face and forearms, but clung to his shirt and pants where a thin film began to take form. Maxwell pushed himself up to a seated position and began to feel dizzy, his head was throbbing. It was as if he had been out late the night earlier at the Old Shade, but he quickly remembered that he hadn't touched alcohol since a few years back. He gathered himself and pushed up to his feet, slowly. In his confusion he remembered something, something bright and warm. Where he was now was neither.
Maxwell rubbed his eyes and noticed a small boy staring at him from a distance. He was dressed in strange clothes that were tight fitting, and lines ran through the material that shone dimly despite the lack of sunlight. He looked far too under-dressed to be out in the snow. That was when Maxwell recognized his own lack of jacket as the cold wind ran over his skin. He wondered why it was snowing in Texas in August. Then he wondered if he was even in Texas. He tried to remember where he had been, but all he remembered was that something that was warm and bright.
He stepped towards the boy, "Hey, kid, where am I?".
The boy stared silently for a moment. His eyes were violet, bright like the lines running through his clothing, and his head was bald revealing his tan scalp. The boy turned and ran.
"Kid!" That was all Maxwell could get out before the vomit evacuated from his stomach. He collapsed to his hands and knees as the putrid contents of his stomach emptied. Once done he rolled over on to his side and a sudden weakness took hold. His eyes grew heavy and a moment later he was asleep.
Maxwell awoke to two people pulling him up off the ground. He was still in a daze and by now the cold was making his limbs feel numb. He had an arm draped over each of their shoulders as they began to walk him forward. The boy had returned and was walking on the right side, peering around one of his aides, almost as if he were hiding.
The man and woman carrying him wore a similar tight fitting material. Both were a deep forest green with the same dim light lines running through it. Like the boy, they lacked any hair to cover their tan skin. Maxwell may have been unaware that the one to his left were a woman were it not for the apparent rise of her chest. He was still groggy, and the cold slowed his thoughts. He could hear them speaking in a tongue he didn't recognize. It was harsh and blunt, similar to German but not. Not that he knew any German, but he had heard it before and this wasn't that.
He tried to speak again, but the nausea silenced him before he could squeak out a word. It was only a few more yards before once again he dozed off.
This time he dreamed. It was a short dream, and blurry, but he found himself walking through a tunnel. He recognized it, the brick walls with graffiti skewed about. It was the tunnel that ran under the tracks above. A shortcut for his walks home from the factory. There was a faint glowing light down at the far end of the tunnel. He felt himself being drawn to it, felt a warmth overtake his body. Then he was standing in front of it, this faintly glowing orb of light. Maxwell reached up to touch it, and as his fingers touched the light he awoke in a panic, sharply sitting up and breathing heavily.
The headache and dizziness had subsided and he found himself in a warm bed. He remembered the family that had carried him and concluded that they must have brought him to their house. The walls and floor of the home were a rough wood, void of any paint. A single window showed that the snow had passed. The light was strange however, and upon further inspection Maxwell noticed the sun was slightly more red than he remembered.
He staggered through the house, which was surprisingly large, until he heard the mumbling of voices. Following the sound he found himself in a dining room where the man, woman and boy were seated at a table. They looked at him with that same blank expression that the boy had in the field.
"Uh...hello." Maxwell struggled to get out the words.
The man didn't speak, but he extended his arm towards an open chair at the other end of the table. Maxwell took the hint and sat. There was a plate of food sitting in front of him that smelled strong of pepper and fish, but the meat was thick and looked like beef.
The man motioned to the plate and spoke, "Eat". It was with a heavy accent, harsh and blunt as the language they had spoken earlier.
Maxwell looked down at the plate. "Oh, I, uh, no I don't need to take your food. Thank you. I'm just trying to figure out where I am. Where is this?"
The man and woman looked at each other for a moment and she muttered something unrecognizable. He returned his attention to Maxwell, "Eat, now. Words, later."
Not wanting to be rude, Maxwell entertained the man's wishes and ate with the family. It was a very strange meal. As the smell would suggest, it tasted like fish, like cod to be exact. But the meat felt like the beef it looked like. On top of that it seemed to be seasoned with several exotic spices that he couldn't quite place. It was lemony, but spicy as well. He didn't particularly enjoy the taste but continued to eat it in silence.
The meal didn't last much longer. Once they were all done the man beckoned Maxwell to follow him as he led back to the room where Maxwell had woke. He motioned to the bed and spoke again, "Sleep."
The man turned to walk out of the room and Maxwell quickly grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Hey, I don't mean to be rude, but I need some answers here man." Maxwell was getting nervous. He still couldn't remember how he had gotten to that field. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know why it was snowing. He didn't know why the sun was red. He didn't know what language this family was speaking. He just didn't know anything. "Please, help me."
The man sighed and struggled through more words, "You, rest now. Tomorrow, we go to town. See Vrichten. He explain all."
Again the man turned to leave and this time Maxwell let him. He didn't want to push his luck with a man he knew nothing of. He seemed willing to help and that was something Maxwell didn't want to lose.
It had been a long day, or had it been longer? Maxwell wasn't sure how long his bouts of sleep had been. He walked over to the bed and sat against it. Even after all the sleep and the meal he still felt fatigued now that he was alone. He rubbed his cheek and felt the stubble of his brown facial hair. Judging by the length it had been a few days since he was last in his home. He took off his shirt to reveal a well toned body with thick hair covering his chest. Long and hard days at the factory had made him strong, but left his joints sore every now and then.
Once undressed he eased himself back down on the bed. The sun had set during their dinner and gave rise to the starry night sky. He could see more lights in the sky than he had ever seen before; wherever he was had to be far from a city. Just before drifting off the sleep he swore he could see a second smaller moon beginning to poke out from behind the one he recognized.
Asleep, he found himself back in the tunnel, confronted by the same orb of light. Again, it called him forward, and again he listened. He touched his fingers to the warm light and felt himself being consumed and pulled into it. He felt a sudden chill rush through his body.
And then the light was gone.
Thanks for reading chapter two! Feel free to give feedback on my writing style, always looking to improve. Here are the links to previous chapters for anyone who missed out!
https://steemit.com/fiction/@crossedsteems/crossroads-chapter-one#comments
