Within the Dead Space Read online

  Within the

  DEAD SPACE

  Gary Hutchens

  Dead Space Text © 2014 Gary Hutchens

  Cover Photograph © 2014 Barbara Hutchens

  All Rights Reserved

  This novel is a work of fiction. The names, places, and events are entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events or locations, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted without written permission of the author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 1

  “Let me out of here…I can’t breathe,” Chaco screamed.

  Pasquez kicked the side of the small crate where he had Chaco confined.

  “Let me out, please. I’ll never steal again,” Chaco pleaded.

  “Never. You’re going to learn a lesson this time.” For two more days Pasquez kept Chaco imprisoned. When he finally released him, he beat Chaco severely before letting him go.

  “I’ll kill you next time,” Pasquez yelled at Chaco as he limped away.

  Chaco had experienced dreams and terror while imprisoned. He had heard voices crying out from ancient times. He felt like he was more than a lowly peasant.

  Finding or stealing food was an absolute necessity for Chaco and his brother, Marco. Living in the Andes was hard enough but starving was even worse.

  A few days later the brothers were near the cliffs when Chaco said, “I can see fruit trees way over there on the other side of the valley.”

  “Where,” cried out his little brother, the sound of the wind and the crackling of the trees and bushes nearby deafening his voice.

  “Over there,” Chaco pointed toward some trees on the far side of the valley. “Can’t you see them? The oranges are big. There must be at least a thousand of them.”

  Marco strained his eyes trying to see the oranges. He looked out desperately from his high perch above the valley hoping for a glimpse of the oranges that were miles away. He moved even closer to the cliff.

  “I don’t see them. How are we going to get over there, Chaco?”

  “Don’t you worry little brother, I’m going to fly over there and bring arm loads of oranges back to you.”

  His brother’s answer seemed to have quelled Marco’s curiosity for the moment, but the grumbling in his stomach from not eating much the last few days was not easily quieted.

  “Can I help you, Chaco? Hey…what is this? The little boy rubbed his hand across the wooden object on the ground. “It’s so smooth.”

  “Don’t you know anything? It’s my wing.”

  “What are you going to use a wing for?”

  “To fly with, just like a bird. I read a book once that says airplanes fly like birds, and the way I figure birds have wings, so I’ve made a wing and I’m going to fly over there and get us some oranges. Now no more questions, I’ve got work to do.”

  “Well, I hate to be the one tell you this Chaco, but birds have two wings and you only have one.”

  “Do I have to tell you everything? This is two wings. They’re just joined together at the center.”

  “Oh…I see. What’s that on your arm, it looks like a sun?”

  “I don’t know what it is.” Chaco pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a sun-like birthmark. “It’s pretty cool, huh.”

  “I wish I had one.”

  For several hours the two boys worked feverishly on the wing. Chaco had spent weeks constructing the wing and it was almost finished. He had spent hours watching the ravens soar on the air off the edge of the cliff. He had tried to copy the curvature and width and length of the wing relative to his own size. As daylight began to fade over the valley and the first inklings of the formidable night inched closer, they finished.

  “Hurry, Chaco. We have to get home before the jaguars come out.”

  They hid the wing under some leaves as darkness began to engulf them.

  “The old man in the village says that the jaguar is the devil’s work and sinners are killed by them. He said the jaguar is so strong he can crush your head in his jaws. I’m not a sinner, am I Chaco? I don’t even know what a sinner is. Do you?”

  “If you would go to church you’d know what a sinner is.”

  “Have you ever been to church, Chaco?”

  “Well no, but I’m sure that a sinner must be something really bad and it’s hard to believe that you and me are sinners.”

  Aaaagh, a terrifying screech came from the depths of the forest.

  Chaco grabbed his brother’s hand and they ran for home, sinner or not they didn’t want anything to do with a jaguar. They rushed into the adobe shed and quickly double barred the door.

  “I’m so hungry I could eat bark off a tree. Is bark any good Chaco? Have you ever eaten any?”

  “No, I’ve never eaten any and quit asking stupid questions.”

  “Do you think we’ll get to eat tomorrow?”

  “Yes we will, I promise.”

  “I can hardly wait. Those oranges sound so good.” Marco lay down on the cold floor and pulled a dirty old blanket over him while Chaco sat by the small fire and tried to think of what to do next.

  At the first break of light Chaco quietly left the small shed and hurried to the village nearby. It wasn’t long before he was in Pasquez’s chicken house helping himself to a few eggs. His presence wasn’t taken very kindly by the old hen that started squawking like the world was ending. Chaco ran from the chicken house with just seconds to spare before Pasquez came running from his house with a club in his hands. He was also the town sheriff, if you wanted to call him that. Chaco knew that if he was caught, Pasquez would kill him.

  He rushed h
ome and found Marco waiting at the door. Chaco grabbed his hand and they ran toward the nearby jungle. A few minutes later he stopped for a moment while they ate the raw eggs and then continued running. Chaco was starting to think they were safe when he was surprised by the sound of several men not far away talking in muffled voices.

  “Marco,” he whispered, “That must be Pasquez. I’m going to take you to Maria’s and you’ll have to stay with her for a while. At least she will feed you.”

  “I don’t want to go. She’s a witch,” Marco whispered.

  “Hush, come on now, let’s go,” Chaco roughly grabbed his brother’s hand and dragged him away.

  They stopped in the trees near Maria’s house. Chaco had gone in a complete circle trying to lose the men and was near the village again.

  “You go stay with her until I come back. She’ll feed you.”

  “You promise you’ll come back and get me?”

  “I’ll come back. Now go before Pasquez shows up and finds me.”

  Marco walked away looking back continuously hoping to get another glimpse of his brother, but Chaco was gone.

  Chaco faded back into the trees and hurried home. He stopped repeatedly and listened for even the remotest sound. He heard nothing and dashed to the door. He swung around quickly and surveyed the immediate vicinity. He saw nothing. Quietly, he entered the shed and began gathering his few belongings.

  The door slammed open violently and there stood Pasquez with his two men behind him.

  “I told you that if you ever stole from me again, I would kill you.” He stepped toward Chaco with a club raised over his head.

  Luckily for Chaco, the shed was so small that it was impossible to swing the club easily.

  Chaco backed away and knelt near an old crate in the far corner of the room. It was a dark day outside and the shed had little light. All of a sudden Chaco threw something across the room at Pasquez and it hit him in the chest.

  “It’s a snake!” screamed Pasquez stumbling backwards. He fell out the door with his arms flailing about. The two men backed away not wanting any part of the snake. There were several poisonous snakes in the area and in the filtered light they couldn’t see that it was just a harmless snake.

  Chaco went running through the door and right past all three men in a brief second.

  “Get him,” screamed Pasquez, as he kicked the snake away.

  The three men rushed after Chaco with a new vengeance. They were losing ground at first because Chaco squirmed through the bushes like one of the native animals.

  He ran to the cliff where he had hidden the wing.

  “Look where he’s going. We’ve got him now,” hollered Pasquez to his men. “He’s running toward the cliffs. Spread out so he can’t double back on us.” They knew they had him cornered and slowed their run as they approached the cliffs.

  Chaco realized too late that he was trapped and tried to slip around the approaching men.

  Oh my god, he thought, they’re going to kill me. Thievery is forbidden.

  Chaco ran to the hidden wing and pulled it out from under the leaves. The three men were only about fifty yards away. The wing was about eight feet long and thirty inches wide with a thickness of less than an inch. He had spent considerable time carving the wing from a large piece of balsa wood that he had found. He had attached a couple of pieces of old leather on the underneath side such that he could slide his arms through and hold the wing on his shoulders. He had also attached a homemade harness to the wing that he could attach to a belt on his waist.

  The men were only twenty yards away as Chaco stared at the valley that was thousands of feet below with the wing on his shoulders.

  “You damn fool,” screamed Pasquez, “I’m going to kill you,” as he ran toward Chaco.

  Chaco was frozen in fear, unable to move. Suddenly a gust of wind pulled him off the edge of the cliff and lifted him fifteen feet above the ground in a split second. He floated effortlessly above the yelling and awestruck men for several more seconds.

  Pasquez grabbed a rock and threw it at Chaco, barely missing him.

  Abruptly, the air left Chaco’s wing and he fell toward the valley below in a death spiral gaining tremendous speed.

  A jolt of wind shook him as he felt the wing bending into the wind, then the air engulfed him and he soared away.

  Chapter 2

  The wing is magnificent, thought Chaco, as he flew effortlessly in the sky. Within seconds he was hundreds of feet above the screaming men and then the wing took him sailing away into the distance. These few moments were the most exciting times of his short life.

  Chaco was jolted continuously from the wind drafts ripping him up and down. He was hundreds of feet below the top of the ledge from where he had started. His exhausted body kept trying to turn the wing to keep himself from crashing into the cliff. Suddenly, he abruptly stalled in midair about ten feet from the face of the cliff and then was thrown even closer to the cliff face by the variable winds. As his wing strained to pull away from the cliff wall Chaco heard a cracking noise and instantly felt flexibility in the wing that wasn’t there before. A protrusion of land from the mountainside was coming up fast when the wing cracked in half and threw him toward the ground. He hit the ground hard, bounced into the air, continuing to fall downward and then hit the ground again and again. His speed was slowing down but the edge of the protrusion was upon him when the half of the wing on his right arm jammed into a crevice in the cliff and he slammed to a stop, hitting his head. Chaco was dangling there unconscious with just inches to spare before freefall would have grabbed him.

  When Chaco awoke hours later his head was throbbing and only half of the wing on his right arm remained. He could see that the sun was preparing for nightfall with streaks of red and purple painted on the far horizon. His body ached from the beating it had taken. He realized the wing being jammed into the crevice was providing the anchor that kept him from falling. His arm hurt the worst where he was fastened to the wing with the leather strap.

  The morning light shined in Chaco’s eyes and he fought hard not to waken. A piercing pain shooting through his right shoulder brought him around. The crazy dreams faded and cold reality stared him in the face.

  There was no way to go up or down from where he was located. The cliff face was just too steep. He couldn’t have fallen in a worse spot.

  Several yards to his left he couldn’t believe what he saw. Could that be Peruvian Paya, they’ve been extinct for 500 years.

  Chaco slowly examined the cliff face to see if there was any way he could possibly inch across to the payas. He could see small crevices and minor indentations in the wall, but could he do it?

  Chaco was able to dislodge the wing from the cliff and remove it from his arm. After many slips and near falls Chaco reached the payas. The leaves were leathery looking with thorns running the entire length. Chaco poked around the payas with his left foot while holding onto the cliff face with his fingertips. He had hoped that he might find a place to rest near them.

  It was late in the afternoon and the sweat was pouring from his face. He was dehydrated and exhausted. He strained his neck looking across the cliff for any hope of escape. Twenty feet below him the rock face looked different somehow.

  With his last bit of energy he began inching down the mountain, and then his right foot slipped followed by his left. He hung on the face of the cliff with his fingertips the only thing preventing him from falling to certain death. With all his might he kicked his right foot into the cliff face. The knuckles on his fingers felt like they would break off. He kicked again. He knew it was seconds now before he would fall. The third kick and a piece of the rock face about the size of a soccer ball fell off.

  His fingers screamed out to him that they had to let go. He balanced spread-eagled against the cliff and continued to kick at the wall. He was able to dig a large enough hole for both feet to rest in the opening. The idea that he was going to be in this position all night frightened him. His m
ind raced across a million thoughts over the next couple of hours as he watched the setting sun in the distance.

  Then there was darkness. Chaco fell a thousand times in his dreams that night.

  Chapter 3

  Chaco awoke suddenly and almost fell from his perilous perch. His mind was foggy and his responses were impaired. The instantaneous rushing of blood to his brain was the only thing that saved him. His reflexes kicked in and he regained his balance with his body squared against the cliff wall.

  This can’t continue…I won’t survive another day.

  He thrust with his foot several times into the wall trying to enlarge the hole. His only hope was to create an area large enough to sit down in. The hole was becoming a bit larger and he noticed that the ground was softer the further he was able to penetrate.

  As his position on the cliff became extremely uncomfortable, Chaco wiggled himself around and reached his arm into the small opening. He was surprised that the ground inside was soft and he was able to dig into it. He dug into the soft dirt for several minutes and was surprised at his progress.

  He reached further into the hole and amazingly discovered a hollow area.

  When the sun started shining directly in the tunnel opening it revealed a narrow shaft at least thirty feet long.

  There’s no way I’m going in there. He looked up and down the cliff and side to side. There is nowhere else to go.

  Several hours later his decision was made for him. The sky had clouded over late in the afternoon and it began to rain. Everything was becoming slick and he was getting cold.

  Chaco took several deep breaths, thought about the thrill of flying, then crawled into the tunnel. The tunnel narrowed as he crawled further in. Before he knew it he couldn’t go back and he couldn’t go forward.

  Chaco started sobbing and a panic attack ensued, just like when he had been imprisoned in the crate at Pasquez’s farm. Hell on earth was upon him.

  Chapter 4

  There wasn’t any light to be seen. Darkness followed by more darkness. Chaco’s mind flowed in and out of consciousness before he reached that moment when he knew death was near. He prayed for help.