The Forgotten (chapter 1)

Prologue - The Last Few

         I never thought it would come to this.
         Hunted, nothing to save us, not even the power of the elements.
         Ash claims we'll stick together forever. Since no one really knows who we are or what we do, that's kind of what will have to happen in order for our survival. Forever, though, is a long time, and won't we eventually get sick of each other and end up going our separate ways anyway?
         That's the problem. When the time comes for us to separate, who else would we find to survive with? You can't survive on your own, Ash says. But, you never know; other nomads could be weaker than us, drag us down. That's what I say.
         There are three of us left, total. Me, Ash, and Bruno. I've known them for as long as I can remember; I can hardly remember a time when one of them wasn't there. I love them like they're my brothers, and in a way, they are.
         There are some setbacks to that, though. We're not really productive in tough situations, and almost always end up fighting, so considering the circumstances, this actually happens a lot. One time, actually, Ash almost got eaten by a bear because he and Bruno were fighting over who got to sleep in the nifty shelter we found. It turned out to be the bear's den. He narrowly missed being devoured, thanks to my quick thinking and killer reflexes. After that incident, we never set foot in the Rockies again.


Chapter One - The Early Years

         I was born into a wealthy Jewish family in Nevada in 1989. I had an older brother, Tyler, and also an older sister, Madeleine. From the stories I've heard from various family members, it's clear that those two adored me when I was born. The first time that came up, when I was six, I was genuinely surprised; every day was a fight. We all grew older, Madeleine started dating a total jackass, and she eventually eloped. We never heard from her again. My mother and I actually had a sinking suspicion that Adam (the jackass) killed her.
         When I was ten, my brother went away to fight a war with the US Army. It couldn't have been worse timing. Just around the time Tyler left, my father was diagnosed with lung cancer, and had a remaining life expectancy of a month and a half. Unfortunately, the doctor's estimate was miles off; my father died just two weeks after the initial diagnosis. Apparently, the damage was more far along than the doctor observed.
         It wasn't until the phone call came that my mother was finally pushed over the edge of insanity. My brother was dead. Barely a month after my father died. I couldn't believe it. How could we go from a family of five to a family of two in a matter of two years?
         Since my mother was no longer fit to care for me, I was taken away and deposited into a foster home. It was strange not having anyone around that I was familiar with. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely adored my foster parents and my two foster brothers. (If you guessed who my foster brothers were correctly, you would've guessed Ash and Bruno. Yes, that's right. Ash and Bruno were my foster brothers.)
         And that, in Mr. and Mrs. Foster's home, is where my story begins.

         It was an ordinary Tuesday. Bruno was being a jerk to Mrs. Foster, Ash was drinking out of the carton, and I was sitting on the couch, watching SpongeBob.
         "No, Bruno, you may not go to the movies with Judy tonight!" cried Mrs. Foster, who was having her final argument with Bruno.
         "Why not? You're letting Ash go to that concert!" cried Bruno, his voice crackly with puberty.
         "Yes, but he's much more mature than you," she said. "And the concert is on Saturday, not on a school night."
         "But--"
         "No buts! End of story."
         Bruno huffed and stomped out of the kitchen and plopped down next to me on the couch.
         "You're so lucky you don't have a life," he mumbled to me.
         "Hey," I said. "I'm only twelve, what can I do?"
         Although Bruno was two years older than me, I must say that, like Ash, I was much more mature than him. And he was right. I didn't have much of a life. Neither did he, but still. I was a pretty antisocial preteen.
         "I'm really sick of her," he said. "She never lets me do anything."
         "Just be glad she hasn't adopted us yet," said Ash as he entered the living room.
         "You just spoke my worst nightmare," he scoffed, shaking his head.
         Bruno never really had the best relationship with Mrs. Foster. See, he was really attached to his previous foster mother, and when she gave him up, he was heartbroken. I supposed he was afraid of becoming too attached to Mrs. Foster because he was afraid of having his heart broken again. Instead, he treated Mrs. Foster with disrespect in hopes of pushing her away. I completely understood his situation, but personally, I thought he was handling it all wrong.
         I, on the other hand, was completely babied by Mrs. Foster. Unfortunately for me, it was probably because I was the youngest. Or maybe it was because she felt sorry for me, what with all the shit I had to go through at such a young age. But I didn't put up a fight. I let her do whatever it was she wanted to do to me. Hey, I wasn't complaining. I was always the one she bought root beer for at the supermarket.
         On that fun note, that day at school was murder. The morning had actually set off to a pretty normal start, but little did we know, something would happen that would change our lives forever.
         It was, in fact, supposed to be a fun day. It was the second to last week of school, and I was pretty excited to graduate to the seventh grade. (Bruno would be in ninth the next year, and Ash in tenth. Bruno and I were still in the same school at this point, so we got to suffer together.) Anyway, that was the day of the Appleton Middle School Annual Picnic (AMSAP for short, our principal being the total nerd that she was). Other than that, it was pretty much like any other day . . . My goodness, I sound like a broken record . . . Let's get on with the story. For real this time.
         "Okay, class, you must be very careful at the park today," said Ms. Johansson, who was well-known for treating her sixth graders like first graders. "It's supposed to be really windy today, so make sure you bring a jacket with you."
         I looked down at my right hand to make sure my Spiderman sweatshirt was still there. It was. I was a pretty weird kid. I was completely obsessed with superheroes, unlike most of the boys in my grade, who mostly outgrew them by the time they turned ten. I was proud to be different.
         Ms. Johansson then led us through the school and then outside to board the busses; we would be going across town to the city's park by the lake. I'd always loved it down there. It had a giant oak that my brothers and I always loved to climb, several picnic tables scattering the area, plenty of daisies, and, best of all, the beach. We were so lucky to live this close to Lake Winnebago, and I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. I'd been looking forward to this trip all year long.
         Slipping on my sweatshirt, I dashed off the bus as soon as it was parked and made my way directly to The Tree. I already had my left foot on one of the large grooves in the bark, ready to climb up, when one of the eighth grade teachers stopped me. "Whoa there, buddy," he said. "I'm afraid The Tree is off-limits this year."
         I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "B-but why?" I stammered. I felt as if I might start to cry.
         "As you know, we've had a very brutal winter this year, and it's taken a great toll on the old tree. There's no telling how frail its branches are. We can't let any of you students get hurt."
         I must admit, I was pretty bummed. I knew the tree was old, and it was looking pretty sickly, but this was part of what I was looking forward to. There was always the jungle gym, but I outgrew playgrounds when I was eight years old, so I resorted to hanging out at the beach and doing some hunting for my beach glass collection.
         I took my shoes and socks off and deposited them in the sand. I rolled up my jeans a bit so they wouldn't get wet, and I began my search. It had always taken me forever to find pieces of the worn-down glass, so I strained myself for about twenty minutes before I found a pretty decent green piece. I guessed it came from a broken Coca Cola bottle. Although I couldn't find any more at that moment, it was still fun for me to wade in the water, looking for pieces of glass I would probably never find. My feet were pretty numb; it hadn't been long since all the ice in the lake melted.
         "It sucks about The Tree," said a voice from behind me. I started, and whizzed around to see who in the world would stoop so low as talking to a complete loser like me. (I forgot to mention - I didn't have any friends.)
         "What?" I said lamely.
         "The Tree," the girl repeated with a sarcastic look about her face. "It sucks that we can't climb it."
         I smiled shyly down at my bare feet. I couldn't help it. I had never talked to a real girl before. "Yeah, it sucks," I said with my head still down in an effort to conceal my stupid grin.
         "What are you doing?" she asked me.
         "Huh?" I said, my head snapping back up to look at her. "Oh." I looked at my feet again. "Just . . . looking for beach glass."
         "I can help you," she stated matter-of-factly.
         "You can?"
         "Sure." She smiled up at me from where she now crouched. "It all depends on where you look."
         When she wasn't looking at me, it really gave me a chance to study her. From the looks of it, she wasn't like most girls. She wore a beanie on her head that was pretty similar to the one Ash owned. Her hair was a dirty blond and tied back in a sloppy pony tail that peeked out from under her hat. She was wearing a navy blue fleece sweatshirt that had "KILLER" stitched on the back and on her feet were high-top sneakers of the same color. The laces were rainbow.
         "Hey," I told her, "you'll wreck your shoes."
         She laughed. "Who cares? I'll need a bigger pair by next year anyway." She stood up, and she faced me. "Hold out your hand." I did. In doing so, she placed several brown, green, and white pieces of beach glass into my palm.
         I stared at them. "Wow," I said. "Thank you."
         "I'm Holly, by the way." She stuck out her hand to me, and I shook it hesitantly with my free one. She furrowed her brow at my silence. "That would be the part where you'd say, 'it's nice to meet you, Holly, I'm . . .' followed by your name."
         I paused. "Derek. My name's Derek."
         "C'est mieux comme ça! He has a name." She winked at me. "See you around." And she walked away, drying her hands off on her jeans.
         I was pretty mesmerized by her. I wasn't used to girls - or anybody for that matter - talking to me, let alone helping me. I still didn't know why that was so easy for her. She just crouched down and a minute later her hands were full.
         To this day, I still have that beach glass.

         What happened several minutes later set off the chain of events that ruined the picnic.
         There was the shrill sounding of a whistle, followed by frantic shouting coming from the teachers and supervisors who were rushing towards the waterfront.
         "Everybody out of the water!" said a distraught voice through a megaphone. "I repeat - everybody GET OUT OF THE WATER!!!"
         I didn't know what happened; I had been there the whole time and nothing seemed off. I obeyed, though, and rushed back to where the buses were parked with the now-panicked crowd.
         "What happened?" I heard from several different directions.
         "I think somebody drowned," other people - the calm, cool, and collected ones - were saying.
         And then I heard the name "Charley Birch" going around.
         Charley Birch was notorious for his dare-devil nature and he always seemed to be getting himself into trouble. I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if all of his reckless acts finally caught up with him and got himself killed at a school event.
         It was Charley Birch that the ambulance finally took away on a stretcher. He wasn't dead, the teachers were saying. We all guessed he inhaled a bunch of water when he went down, though not enough to drown him, and that he was severely hypothermic. The water was freezing that day. Crotch-numbing, in fact.
         We were all relieved that he was going to be okay, but we were still pretty shaken up, and the beach was closed off for the day.
         That was our cue to start lunch when the ambulance whisked Charley off to the emergency room. The teachers set up the picnic tables with the food and utensils that we brought. We all sat down and piled our plates with things like hot dogs, baked beans, fruit salad, and cookies. There were a few boys that had only cookies. I smirked at them.
         "Hey, Derek," said Bruno as he slipped in the seat next to me. "Whatcha got there?" He was pointing at the slight bulge in my sweatshirt pocket.
         "Beach glass." I took it out and showed him.
         "You found all that?"
         "No, Holly did. She was surprisingly nice to me."
         He scoffed. "Holly? Holly Coats? She talked to you?"
         "Yeah. D'you know her?"
         "She's in my homeroom." He took a rather carnivorous bite of his hot dog. "That girl is bad news. You shouldn't talk to her." He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his black Old Navy fleece, leaving a smear of mustard behind.
         "Why? She seems nice."
         "If you could see what happens when she's around . . ." He shook his head, and then took another bite of his hot dog.
         I sipped my lemonade and scanned the premises for Holly. Finally, I saw her sitting on the ground with her back pressed against The Tree, eating off a plate full of potato salad.
         I also noticed that she was completely alone, but she seemed harmless, especially from afar.
         "Dude, you're staring," said Bruno accusingly.
         "Huh?" I didn't look at him.
         "Stop that, she'll see you."
         She met my eyes and smiled. I waved, but she didn't wave back.
         "See? She's planning her attack. You can see it in her eyes."
         "What are you talking about?" I stared at him incredulously. He had a look on his face that said 'I told you so.' I looked back to where Holly was sitting.
         She was gone.
         "Be prepared for step two of her master plan."
         "Are you saying . . ." I began.
         "Yup. She drowned Charley Birch." His tone was speculating. "She's been my lab partner a few times, and I swear there's something off about her. She seems like the kind of person who'd try something like that."
         I smirked. Of course I didn't believe him. He was just trying to upset me. After all, he was my brother and Holly was the first girl who had ever spoken to me.
         Suddenly, a deafening CRACK shook the park, followed by several screams.
         "Behold!" cried Bruno from beside me. "Part two!"
         Did my eyes deceive me? Was this truly happening?
         We watched, unmoving, as The Tree toppled forward, pulling its roots up with it. Nobody quite knew what was happening, so most of us just stood there, watching what was happening to the great oak. If we didn't move, we would all be crushed by the giant tree.
         It fell faster, faster, but nobody moved. I couldn't even bring myself to move, though I could feel Bruno tugging frantically at my sleeve and shouting at me that I had to get out of there.
         I was prepared for the blow that would kill me. I was ready to die, which didn't make any sense to me. I felt paralyzed, hypnotized.
         The Tree was just grazing my head - I had my eyes closed at this point - when, for some reason, the falling tree stopped. I opened my eyes in confusion, when finally, it hit me (no sick-minded pun intended).
         Spiderman, I thought, Spiderman saved us.
         I thought my suspicions were confirmed when The Tree slowly made its way off the top of my head and back to its upright position.
         "Is everyone okay?" a familiar voice shouted from the other side of the tree.
         Ash? I thought, in awe. Ash is Spiderman?
         But it wasn't Spiderman who stepped out from behind The Tree. It was Ash, his flannel coat covered in dirt and moss. I was shocked. How could Ash be so strong? How could anybody be that strong, strong enough to lift a 300-year-old tree?
         "Ash?" Bruno whispered.
         At this point, the teachers were herding the students back to the busses, abandoning the picnic that was still set up. The city officials would be unhappy about this. About the tree, not the picnic.
         Bruno and I stayed our ground as Ash made his way towards us, an intense expression in his eyes. Bruno and I just stood there, staring at him. We were both shocked by what we saw him do.
         "What's going on?" said Bruno bravely. "What are you doing here?"
         "I sensed something was wrong, so I left school to come here," he explained. The high school was just two blocks away. "I got here just in time."
         "But - how did you do that?" I asked him in a slightly panicked tone.
         "No time to explain. We have to leave. It's not safe here."
         He grabbed our wrists and pulled us along in the opposite direction of the middle school. Teachers shouted after us, but that didn't stop us. They tried chasing us, but we - or should I say ASH - was going way too fast for them to catch us, so they just gave up. We could hear the buses start their engines and then drive away.
         "Where are we going?" Bruno demanded, but he wasn't getting an answer.
         We were now in the part of town that I never would've dared to visit; we were in the slums, where the gangs hung around.
         I gulped.
         After a few minutes, Ash started slowing down, until he finally stopped in front of an old abandoned warehouse. It was made of wood, and the roof was made of crinkled aluminum. It looked like it was falling apart.
         "This is it," said Ash. "In here we'll find everything we need."
         "Need for what?!" Bruno was becoming angry; that was certain. "Seriously, you need to tell us what's going on right now!"
         Ash pressed his fingertips to his forehead, his eyes closed. He sighed.
         The way he looked then made him seem far older than fifteen. He was doing something that you would expect an irritated adult to do.
         "There are somethings that I haven't told anybody," he said, sounding a bit guilty, "things that are meant to be kept secret. I don't know if I can tell even you guys."
         "Ash, if you haven't noticed, the whole middle school just saw you lift that tree," said Bruno. "You can tell us, and we'll believe you."
         Ash's head hung, and when he raised his eyes to us, he looked sad, so sad that it would break anybody's heart.
         And then he told us.