Chapter 1
Vandalia Colony, January 4, 1773
Dropping season after season, year after year, accumulating, decaying, disintegrating but steadily cushioning the forest floor until decades turned to centuries, the pine needles could still not keep buried the tree roots that surfaced like skeletons reproached by the earth. Their gnarly bones glistened with the morning dew. Before anyone existed to mark the passage of time, the path distinctly coursed its way through the immortal evergreen forest. Bret’s hiking boots sank deep into this golden carpet of time. Out of breath, he stopped and bent over to lessen the weight of his pack, squirming his shoulders away from the biting straps that cut deep into his skin. Inhaling the smell of living things long since dead, he leaned hard on his hiking staff and lifted his torso. Swiveling his head from side to side, he listened more than he stared into the brooding darkness to either side. Gazing upward, he traced a thin line blue line of sky through the towering trees that mirrored the path below.
“This place is frigging primordial” he said to nobody.
“We are not that far back.” An elderly man wheezed. “In the time of wolves and other predators that have long si
nce passed. I would say we are in the year 1773.”
“Don’t piss your pants Bret, wolves aren’t gonna attack us three as long as we stay together.” A young female voice admonished.
Bret rolled his eyes and turned to watch the approach of his companions. Nervously, he glanced back into the shadows for any sign of fur or fangs.