A Survivor's Guide to Eternity

Chapter 1

Through the looking grass



Ed Trew was no stranger to hangovers, but this was something else. His head throbbed like a Belisha beacon, his throat was arid like used sandpaper and he had a nausea that occupied him from the lowest depths of his stomach. Slowly, his heavy eyelids forged open one by one, like inflatable lilos dragged through quicksand. Desperately, he gasped at the air that dragged over his dry tongue like barbed wire across sand. This was going to be no ordinary day!

As his eyelids opened, the brutal light pierced to the centre of his brain with blinding incision. He frantically fumbled to cover his face from the powerful rays, confused as to his whereabouts.

The light was jetting in from a small arched opening just ahead of him. He reached forward and began to peer through the hole, moving his head further out into the brilliant sunlight. A merciless heat immediately began scorching the top of his head and arms as the light smothered him like a nuclear flash, intensifying the thumping inside his head and pushing his eyes from behind as if they were stuck in a rugby scrum.

Tortured, he momentarily retreated back into the semi-darkness not sure whether it was some sort of cave or hut that housed him. After a brief moment of respite he ventured out again, anxious for information and acutely aware of his crippling thirst.

His arms and legs felt strangely paralysed, cumbersome and heavy, his movement severely limited. A stiff and inflexible neck minimised his field of view, whilst his head continued to pulsate with tension, his eyelids fighting helplessly to defend against the brightness.

Unable to stand, face down on the floor, the only way he could move was to throw his arms and legs forward in pairs like a swimmer wading through wet cement. His momentum was slow and each movement kicked dusty soil up into his face, choking and irritating his dehydrated mouth turning it into a dried up, powdery hell.

As his eyes adjusted, he slowly became aware of his surroundings. It felt like a fairy tale setting where everything was too big to be believable. Strange, tall stalks and clumps of thick grass partially obscured his view as he struggled along as best he could. Desperately thirsty and hungry, he felt heavier than ever, exhausting himself with every cumber-some body movement, slowing his progress to a snail pace.

Maybe I should’ve stayed back under cover after all, he thought as he picked his heavy limbs up one after the other, trying to move forwards.

He continued up a small slope and into the respite of the shade. The parched grass was bigger and thicker than he had ever experienced before, looking as if it could be measured in feet rather than inches. Progress continued in minute increments as he continued on, launching unwieldy arm after unwieldy leg against the partially verdant resistance, way too heavy for any meaningful momentum.

His head continued to pound from within, his stomach churned and his eyes succumbed to the baking sun, even in the shade. The eyelids had loosened a little but were nothing more than a tissue in a thunderstorm.

Soon he ground to a halt on a flat piece of ground alongside a grass clump. His head was motionless on the dirt, impervious to the dust that crept deep into his mouth with each breath. Nervously, his arms pulsated in time with his breathing. This would normally have been a definite cause for concern, but in the circumstances it went largely unnoticed. This aside, he remained inanimate, fixed, frozen, immobile and stalled, wondering if it was a strange dream or a nasty reality.

The last thing he remembered was driving home to London from a business trip in Devon. It was just snap shots and flashes: getting in the car, whipping past vans and trucks, white lines firing past the vehicle, tedious news bulletins interwoven with unnecessary interjections from the sat nav, and annoying text alerts on his phone. How did all this lead him to where he was now?

Suddenly there was a powerful explosion and a great thud, as a gust of wind rushed past his motionless head, forcing him to flinch in panic and momentarily loose consciousness. Next thing he knew, he had woken back in the darkened hut.

“How can I have got back here? All that effort and struggle and I’m back where I started in this strange hut. What the hell’s going on?” he said out loud to himself.

Disgruntled, he peered through the bright opening and pushed his weary head forwards. To his shock, he was not back at the start at all, but was right where the loud thud had startled him. Once again, with his face to the ground, he gestured with his big heavy arms and manoeuvred his body to the left to see the cause of the scare.

This must be some sort of stupid joke, he thought to himself as he took sight of the fallen object.

Great! A giant, scrunched-up Coke can! Have I landed on a Panto set or what?

The half-crushed vessel rested not far from his head. He moved cautiously towards it to get a closer look. Then he reached around with his arms but was not able to extend out far enough to get a hold of it.