There is something glowing green in the very back of the lab.
Curious, I flip the light back on.
The green glow is too dim to be noticeable with the lights on, but I move over to it anyway, feeling somewhat drawn. Ever since I was a kid, I liked poking around at the stuff in Dad’s lab, so I don’t really think much of it when I go to investigate a bit more. Besides, I really don’t want to join the rest of my class until it’s time to eat, and I have time to kill.
Back behind a bit of a divider, kind of like the cube walls you see in office buildings, there is a long lab table in the corner of the room. Right in the center of it is a tall, cylindrical object, which is from where the light originates. There’s something rather blob-like in the center. The substance looks like it’s floating in a gooey liquid and reminds me of those old lava lamps.
Along with one of those large car batteries and a couple of books, there is a stack of paper on the table next to the green thing, covered with my Dad’s scrawl. It’s Dad’s notes to himself, and I have to smile to see there isn’t a single bit that makes any sense on the whole page. Only Dad can tell what Dad is talking about most of the time, as Mom always says. This is just a bunch more of his chicken scratch.
DNA subject 1(M) –unable to categorize -not H. sapiens. Brain differentiation. Broca’s area?
DNA subject 2 (F)—H. sapiens - related to me?? (retest- use different control)
Button– steel not aluminum—4.23 meters from the remains
Pottery dates match—164,230-164,235
After that, there are a whole lot of—as far as I’m concerned—nonsensical equations. I look back to the green stuff, which seems to be sloshing around inside the cylinder a little faster but is otherwise pretty boring.
I turn around to go. I figure I’ve probably screwed around in here long enough, and I need to get back to my group. Whatever Dad is doing, he obviously isn’t around for lunch. I hope he’ll be home in time to eat dinner with us tonight at least.
As I turn to walk away, I stub my toe on the lab table, and the whole thing rocks for a second as my toe throbs in my shoe. I try not to fall on my face as I hop on one foot and rub at my toe. I quickly look over the contents of the lab table to make sure I haven’t screwed anything up.
The green glow fades in and out, which it wasn’t doing before. I peer around it and see a slender wire in the back, which seems to be at least partially disconnected from its source. I reach behind and grasp the end and then shove it back into place.
In an instant, my whole arm feels like it is vibrating, and I am nearly blinded by green light. The room seems to twist and turn itself inside out, transforming both the green cylinder and the rest of the table into a swirling cascade of color and light. Nausea and dizziness overwhelm me. My vision blurs as streaks of bright lights in red and gold flood my eyes until I have to close them. Blood pounds in my ears, and for a moment, I am sure I am being pulled to pieces.
Then it all stops.
With a shudder, I open my eyes.
I see dirt.
And some roots.
For several minutes, I just sit there as my mind tries to make sense of what’s going on. It fails miserably, and I just stare in disbelief at the rough dirt walls around me and the clear sky, visible when I peer overhead.
I’m in a hole.
Still disoriented, I look around and try to get my bearings. It’s obvious I am no longer in Dad’s lab, but where am I? I glance down beside me, and I notice a large, dark patch of ground just a few inches away from my hip. I reach out to touch the dark stain, and my fingers come back sticky and red. There is blood on the ground next to me.
Holy crap!
My stomach roils, and for a moment, I think I am going to be sick. Somehow, I manage to keep from throwing up, but I make sure to breathe through my mouth and not look to the ground beside me again. I wipe my hand on the dirt wall, trying to clean off my fingers without really watching what I’m doing. It doesn’t work well.
I have to get out of here.
I stand, but I can barely reach the edge of the hole, and I can’t get enough leverage to pull myself up. When I try, the dirt crumbles in my fingers and rains down on my head. I run my fingers through my hair, and dirt flies all over the place. I shake my head again before slumping back to the bottom of the hole. I try to remember all the crap Dad tried to teach me about survival in the wilderness, but not much is coming to mind.
Don’t panic.
I make myself take slow, deep breaths and try to figure out what I should do. From down here, I don’t even know if I am in the wilderness! When I listen, I don’t hear anything except the sound of the wind, but that doesn’t necessarily mean there is no one within earshot.