Wanderer (Book 1): Wanderer

know how right it is though. How long was I sleeping? I didn’t remember looking at it before I fell asleep. I sat there for a while, leaning against the back hatch again, listening to the crickets.
The clock read 5:47 when the crickets abruptly stopped and were replaced by another noise. A steady crunch of the rocks in conjunction with: one, two, three, four, separate crunching patterns. It sounded so familiar.
I peered out the windshield, too dark to see anything. Then I remembered the dash clock. The SUV may not have gas, but it did have power.
Slowly, I slid my way up to the front of the cab and turned the keys to the accessory on position. Then I took a deep breath and turned the head lights on.

Entry 27
It took a moment to register what I was looking at. Two men wearing masks, the same ones from the fire, standing in front of a large off-road truck pointed straight at me, with what had to be fifty lights attached to it. Had they followed me or was this their SUV? What, exactly, were they planning on doing? I had heard the stories broadcast over the radio by the search and rescuers, but were they all true? They couldn’t kill everyone they came across, could they? They would have to recruit sometimes. Were they here to recruit me, or kill me? I didn’t wait to find out.
While they were blinded by the headlights I escaped out of the back hatch and sprinted towards the woods. The roar of the engine from the off-road truck coming to life scared me.
My father took me to the drag races some years ago and every time the top fuel dragsters or the funny cars would do their runs you would have to wear earmuffs because they were so loud. The sound of their truck turning on makes me wish I wish I had ear muffs now.
The lights from the truck were bouncing up and down as it tore through the woods behind me. It was disorienting, but I was able to see where I was going for the most part. As long as I could see their lights, they could see me. I needed to lose them. Then I noticed the surroundings that were once black were now turning a dark blue and getting lighter, the sun was rising.
It would be harder to escape from the lights of the truck now and so far it has had little trouble fitting in between the trees that littered the mountain landscape. I was running out of time, they would have me soon.
I saw my chance in a tight clump of trees that were stacked along the ridgeline and I made a beeline for them. Once I got over the hill I would be able to get out of their field of vision for a few seconds and I should be able to double back and lose them. The trees were younger and thinner and spaced maybe four feet apart and there was no way that behemoth could fit through that, they would have to go around to follow.
I was at the trees and made it through them with no problem. Once on the other side I realized something I hadn’t before. A fatal error on my part, there were no trees on the other side. My adrenaline was pumping so I didn’t notice, or care, but that was no ridge line, it was sharp drop off. It wasn’t necessarily a cliff because of a small grade, but it was damn near close.
It was quite a sensation falling like that, it happened a lot faster than in the movies. I dropped about thirty feet before I made contact with the side of the mountain again. I thought I heard a snap, but I wasn’t sure. In my short drop I was able to see that some sort of complex sat at the bottom of the cliff. I’ll have plenty of time to take in what just happened once I stop tumbling at the bottom of the hill.
Over the sound of my head hitting the dirt I heard a loud sharp snap and an even louder ripping noise, and the next thing I knew the truck was flying over the ridge of the cliff. He obviously didn’t have the same idea I had.
I had now twisted and was tumbling backward facing the truck. It was in a perilous position rocketing downward perpendicular to the cliff face. Had I been a little faster the truck would have crushed me when it eventually collided with the side of the mountain.
It landed on its nose six feet in front of me and started cart wheeling down the hill sending a dirt cloud filled with debris exploding from the newly formed crater. I rolled through the dirt cloud missing the pock mark. An unknown chunk of debris struck my cheek cutting it and possibly fracturing my cheek bone.
The truck hit the asphalt below with a loud crunch and a scraping sound that was worse than nails on a chalk board.
I hit the asphalt a few seconds later with my own set of crunches and scraping. My arm was warm which means that the wound on my arm has opened again. And I had that now familiar tingling sensation in my nose.
I couldn’t see anything with all the dirt in the air so I stayed put for a while, not that I could move anyway after a tumble like that.
The dirt slowly settled and everything came into view. I was covered in so much dirt and blood that I couldn’t tell the difference between the two.
The first thing I saw was the truck. It was 50 to 60 feet in front of me and upside down. It was sitting in the middle of a courtyard with lines painted on the ground. I recognized them as being part of a basketball key. I could see the hoops now.
The buildings that were on