November 6, 2005 - Day 6

Chapter 1
Into the fire
The wild and ferocious growls and barks from the team of Doberman Pinchers shot a surge of panic through thirteen-year-old Jonathan Erickson’s body. He had been on the run from the Tuscon Arizona Juvenile Detention Facility for only a few minutes when sirens began to wail, men began to shout, and the dogs... those dogs. Jonathan was deathly afraid of those dogs.
Although it was late, and the sun had gone down hours before, the desert sand beneath his feet was still very hot. Jonathan’s worn shoes provided little protection from hidden desert plants and sharp rocks. The landscape before him was little more than a sea of black frosted in places with the shimmer of moonlight.
Jonathan concentrated on the path ahead and tried to avoid the many outstretched arms of giant Saguaros. More than once he had felt the sharp needles of these huge cactus plants press deep into his flesh as he passed too close, or met one head on. He knew the dogs would have no trouble tracking him as he was bleeding in several places.
This really sucks!
As much as he hated Juvie, he was beginning to think he had made a huge mistake. He had no idea where he was going. He hadn’t planned to escape, it just... well... happened.
He had been in his bunk, looking at the stars through the small chickenwire-covered window. Outside there arose some sort of commotion, and the door crashed open. Before he knew it, there were men and dogs bounding into the cabin, and beams of flashlights danced across the walls and ceiling.
"All, right...which one of you done it?" came a gruff voice from one of the men.
The dogs sniffed around the beds, and under mattresses once the men had lifted them. They poked their noses in tight spaces. Jonathan had no clue what was going on.
A blinding shaft of light passed directly into his eyes and stopped. Several Doberman Pinschers moved into position around his cot, evil rumbles in their throats. Adrenaline pulsed through Jonathan’s veins, and it felt as though a huge hand clenched his windpipe.
"Was it you, punk?" the gruff voice said. "Tell the truth now."
The words did not want to come. All Jonathan could see were the devilish eyes of the massive animals that surrounded him.
"Speak up boy, was it you who done it?"
"D...did, w...what?" Jonathan said.
"Don’t play dumb with me, I know it was you. It’s always you."
"Then why are you asking if I did it?"
"Shut up. Deputies!"
The circle of Dobermans erupted into a gut-wrenching torrent of vicious snarls, and barks. The terrible noise engulfed him, and he felt almost as if he were trapped with in it. Panic gripped him, and he doubled over, his arms wrapped around his head and ears. From the depths of his soul, a scream exploded and mixed with the awful uproar. I’ve got to get out of here, now!
He was on his feet, his head still covered. He bolted to the door, the dogs at his heels. He didnt stop running until he reached the fences. He didn’t think, he scrambled up the first one. Deadly sharp razor wire encircled the tops of each of three evenly spaced fences. Jonathan took off and folded his shirt the best he could with one hand, then placed it on the wire in an attempt to protect himself. He climbed as high as he dared, then carefully climbed over. The razors sliced through the thin detention-issue shirt, and cut Jonathan in several places. With difficulty, he untangled the shirt from the razor wire, and let it fall to the ground. He lowered himself, then dropped himself. The dogs were closing in on the fence, and the men weren’t far behind.
Jonathan hit the second fence on the run, climbed up and over, not faring much better than with the first fence. Sirens split the night with their piercing wail. Dozens of Dobermans danced menacingly on the far side of the first fence, unable to pass. Their horrific vocalizations spiked into Jonathan like arrows.
As he attacked the final fence, he became aware of blood running down his chest. The pain from dozens of lacerations threatened to stop him. Just one more. The third fence proved to be the most difficult of all. His jeans caught in the wire, and he received several more injuries. At last he was free of the fences, but he was anything but safe.
As the flashlights had passed through the cabin moments before, now gigantic spotlights swept the yard and fence line. Jonathan could hear engines starting on several trucks. He knew he didn’t have much chance now. Trucks and dogs... he couldn’t outrun either. But he had to. The sounds of accelerating vehicles, and gears shifting propelled him into the blackness.




CHAPTER 2
Into the Abyss
Jonathan raced almost blindly into the night. He was becoming more and more aware of the fix he was in. Hurt, bleeding, ripped clothes, no food or water, and angry men with dogs closing in on him.
The crunch of tires and the malevolent drone of the jeeps mingled with the maniacal agitation of the dogs drew closer. Lights seemed to suddenly be shining from everywhere. Headlights, flashlights, searchlights... Too much light.
Jonathan dodged behind a large group of cactus hoping for some cover. His legs ached, his feet were sore, but he had no choice but to keep running.
Vehicles passed him on each side, and moved ahead of him. They were obviously going to block him.
More jeeps were approaching. Jonathan saw that there was a gap between them and made a break for it.
"Jonathan Erickson," came a voice over a megaphone. "Stay where you are."
Fat chance.
"This is your last warning, stay where you are."
Jonathan wasn’t about to stop and get manhandled, but thoughts of a take down by a Doberman flashed through his mind. There were no two ways about it, he was trapped, and the prospects were not good.
"Let ‘em go," a man called. Jonathan heard the unmistakable sounds of Dobermans coming his way. The fear welling up inside him was unbelievable. It spread from his toes, through his skin and bones, to his heart and out of his mouth.
Thirty feet, twenty fivc... The monsters were nearly on him.
Jonathan tripped over something hard and fell face first into the sand, but didn’t stop. A hole had opened, and Jonathan plummeted into it. The fall seemed to happen in slow motion, he could feel rocks and dirt falling around him, and the sound let him know that there was a lot of it. Without warning he slammed into the ground with a sickening crunch. He tumbled down what seemed to be a tunnel, then landed in a heap.
Jonathan could hear the hole behind him filling steadily with the remnants of the cave in. He was being buried. He lay on his side, his left arm pinned beneath him. The wind had been knocked out of him, and he struggled to catch his breath.
The damp, earthy smell made his stomach turn. It was too much like the smell of grounds at the detention facility where he was forced to work. His head began to swim, he felt nauseous, and he blacked out.
Chapter 3
Another Narrow Escape
Jonathan’s mind nudged him awake. Where am I? What’s that sound? He was very groggy, but pain began to register from all over his body. There was a buzzing sound in his head. Was it a buzz? No, it was more of a rattle. Yes, it was a rattle. It took him several minutes for him to remember where he was. The events of previous night began to return. The dogs, the chase, falling. The rattle persisted and Jonathan fought to clear his mind. I fell in a hole. What is that rattle?
He tried to sit up, but the weight of the dirt and rocks on his chest prevented it. He shook his head and tried to take in his surroundings. A small shaft of light shone from a hole above him. It provided enough light for him to see that he was not in a hole, but more of a tunnel.
Jonathan’s right leg was completely buried. He could tell it was twisted up so that his foot was quite a bit higher than his knee. His left foot stuck out from under the mound of dirt at an odd angle. Jonathan’s heart leapt as he located the source of the rattling sound. Only inches from his left knee was a coiled Diamondback Rattlesnake, its tail shaking rapidly. Dozens more slithered over one another.
Jonathan was well aware of the Diamondback’s dangerous reputation. He watched as the black tongue slid in and flickered out of the huge snake’s mouth.
Don’t move... don’t move.
Snakes were moving over the mound of dirt that covered his leg, some coming closer. Jonathan watched one move right up his chest uncomfortably close to his face.
"Go away," he said, his heart pounding.
The snake drew even closer. Jonathan blew at it hoping to make it move away. It drew back and it too coiled and began to rattle.
Brilliant...
At the sound of this snake’s rattle, others joined in.