Jamie is Buried Alive!
Time by Einstein opens very deliberately:
Buried.
Alive.
I pounded on the lid of the sarcophagus.
Sealed in.
I convulsed. I’d run out of oxygen soon.
How had I gotten here? Who closed the sarcophagus knowing I was inside? Didn’t they know I was inside? How could they not know? Didn’t they realize I’d die?
I opened my mouth to shout, but a rag shoved between my teeth muted my voice. I fought to spit it out. It held fast. I reached to extract it, but my hands refused to respond.
Lying on my back, I realized my arms were crossed over my chest and bound by strips of cloth. They had mummified me! Mummified me in my Flash tee shirt! How ridiculous!
Reason tried to set in. How had I pounded on the lid if my hands were bound? I jerked and twitched. The bindings held fast.
How could I see if I was inside a sarcophagus? Nothing made sense. I kicked with my legs, which were bound together with strips of cloth. “Help!” I wished to yell. Instead I thrashed about, trying to kick the side of the sarcophagus. Perhaps they hadn’t put it in the tomb yet. Perhaps someone stood outside and could hear.
Perhaps.
But the more my head grew light the more I knew I had already been sealed away. Here I would die. “Helllllppp!” I screamed inwardly.
My thrashing threw me from the bed with a loud thump. “Yaaaaaaah!” I screamed. “Oh, God! Not again.”
“Huck! Hey, Huck!” a voice shouted from above.
“Help!” I screamed again, lost in the nightmare as it clung with a death grip.
The voice again: “The girls down the hall are knocking on the door. You OK or shall I call an ambulance?”
Lenore’s droll tone snapped me halfway from the dream-state. I hung somewhere in limbo where I heard her and felt the bonds restraining my arms. “Ambulance? What?”
“I’m doing this for your own good. Remember that.” The next thing I remembered was someone throwing cold water in my face. And not just a little. I think she found a pitcher or a bucket.
I sputtered and gagged, pulling myself into a sitting position. A few seconds later I heard her speak to someone at the door. Then it closed and the latch clicked into place. Lenore returned to my side. “Holy Freyja! What’s with the yelling?”
I wiped wet strands of hair from my face. I’d had to unwind a sheet that had bound me like a mummy. “What did I say?”
“Buried alive?” She cocked her head to one side like a bird. Her eye glowed unnaturally bright, but perhaps that was because the only light came from the bathroom which lit one side of her face, leaving the other side deep in shadow.
“Oh, God.” I rolled on my side.
“So?” she drawled.
“I dreamed I was my dad. I wore my Flash tee shirt, but I felt like my dad. And I was buried in a sarcophagus. What the heck was that?” I asked as I eyed her with confusion and hope that she could sort what could not be sorted.
“Well,” she drew the word out. “You know how you’ve had this evolving vision. Looks like it’s evolved from black beasts to black holes. It foretells things, yeah? Perhaps this...whatever this is…is revealing something about your dad. That’s been your quest, right?”
“You know I want to understand him more than anything.”
“Exactly. Even if every bit of tinfoil and antiquated sword seem to distract you.” And she tapped her temple and smiled broadly, sagely.
With effort I ignored her sarcasm. Understanding the dream was too important to rise to her jest. “What? Like this vision reveals he was buried alive? I hardly think so,” I scoffed and turned away.
She sat with me until I had fully freed myself. She didn’t help uncoil the sheets. As I staggered to my feet, she leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ll give you that one because you’re rattled and half asleep, which is more than I can say for the rest of the dorm. You yell loudly! I think you punched a hole in the wall too.”
When my eyes slid to the wall, she sighed. “I made up that last bit about the hole. I need your attention. Think about it, Huck. I think it’s awesome to be along for the ride, but you gotta drive straight and keep in your lane. Something is helping you sort clues about your dad. Listen up! Savvy?”
I nodded.
“And don’t discount this visionary warning might be all about you. I know, don’t get a big head.”
“Yeah, like I’ll ever be buried alive!”
“Just inquire with Edgar Allan Poe. He spent a lifetime penning the perfect horror. And many were on that topic. Would you like me to read The Premature Burial? You might pick up some ideas for the next time you’re inclined to scream bloody murder after dark.”
With no rebuttal, I held my mouth firmly and stared.
She harrumphed. “Want help remaking the sheets? I can’t believe you wet the bed and at your age!”
I punched her, and she laughed huskily as we stripped the bed. Half-melted ice cubes spilled across the floor. “Did you have to use a whole pitcher?”
“Yup,” she said with a pop. “And next time I’m recording your vision for review. Not to be cruel. I honestly believe you’re on the verge of discovering something new.”
An icy hand slithered down my spine and dripped along Lumen’s blade, ever strapped to my thigh. I knew she was right even if the “hand” was probably an ice cube.
***
If you look back at previous books you will recall that Jamie's dad, Brett Poole, has had this same dream. This dream sequence has appeared in at least three other books in the series. Jamie has not yet realized that this dream is more than a dream. Will she figure out its meaning before things get worse? How can they get worse, you ask? Watch for more snippets from this book and The Wild Hunt in upcoming blogs.
Time by Einstein and The Wild Hunt available in May 2024.
While you wait for Time by Einstein and The Wild Hunt, you can purchase any of the Jamie Poole Books directly from the author. Arrangements can be made by emailing: JamiePooleBooks@gmail.com.
Additionally Dartmouth Book Exchange is a preferred vendor who can assist you in getting the books any time of year. In fact our first event this year will be with Dartmouth Book Exchange. Here are DETAILS.
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