Caught In Time

Chapter 25

James had woken up to Cassedee frantically cleaning his wounds off with a piece of her sweatshirt. The hood.

She ripped the other half in between her teeth. James could hear the tearing noise. He winced. His head was pounding.

Her t-shirt was ripped at the bottom as a result of getting seared almost to death by the green smoke.

Her black converse covered all in dirt. Soot was smeared across her cheek. Her light brown hair was matted at the top and the strands at the bottom were ragged. James desperately wanted to wipe it away with his thumb.He sat up in a daze, unable to process what had just happened. He looked around carefully with his eyes. His head was in too much pain to move fully.

It looked like they were in some sort of basement. The lights were just bulbs jutting out of the ceiling. If you could even call it a ceiling.

The floorboards exposed and the beams supporting the ceiling were zigzagged across the cement floor. James looked down slightly. Rat droppings scattered all around the floor. In the corners. Cobwebs painted each corner and old furniture could be seen piled up on each other against the wall.

This must be the cellar.

The smell is what bothered him the most. It was musty and old with a faint hint of earth. Almost like dirt but not quite.

Then, all the way in the back corner was a tree. Growing right in the center of the floor. James squinted. Butterflies floated around the tree and flowers bloomed from the leaves.

There was a deer grazing from the tall grass. It looked like a mini island.

"Cass, look at that."

She stopped blotting and turned around. "This place is failing to amaze me more and more."

"I think this is supposed to be a safe space. A safe square."

Cassedee paused. Her eyes grew wide. "What did you just say?" She said quietly.

"A safe square..." James looked at her wearily. "What?"

Cassedee glanced down and closed her eyes.

"That's what my mom used to say whenever she would talk about our house. Safe square. That was our code word for home."

"Cass, I'm sorry. I–"

"It's okay, James." She paused. "I heard her, you know."

She let the half of her sweatshirt fall. James could see blood on most of the cloth. Had he bled that much?

"She was in my head when we were flying. Telling me which way to go. I don't know how and I don't know why but she was."

His stomach grumbled. They haven't eaten for at least two days. It felt longer. James hadn't even thought about food. Their whole world had been flipped upside down. And the thirst. The thirst was unbearable.

They had lost their friend Ethan. Nole was becoming something–different. Something evil. And James had to figure out what. Then there was Mr. T. This strange world they were in. The oblivious party guests. The clock never changes past midnight.

He didn't have half the answers he needed.

James knew somehow that time was different here. He just wasn't sure how exactly.

He sat up slowly and pushed Cassedee's hand away from his face.

"I'm fine, Cass." he mumbled. And winced. The pain was throbbing through his temple. He reached his hand to hold the wound, now understanding what real pain was. It felt like a thousand knives stabbing him in his head. He couldn't think.