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This is the Prologue for I Am The North, the first installment of the Sitka Saga trilogy.
Shared with permission, written by Rae Wojcik.
Minnesota, 1895
Robert peeled his shirt away from his sweaty back, squinting through the glare of the relentless sun. Summer hung tight in northern Minnesota that year. A sweltering August had bled into a sultry September, bringing oily days punctuated with the bites of mosquitos and humid nights splashed with rumbles of thunder. Robert was starting to regret taking this job. He and his partner, Jakob, had spent the whole day surveying for a place to build a village to house the two hundred employees of the new Nelson Copper Mine. If they could get the first few cabins set up before the first snow, they could start moving in workers to have work secured for the winter.
Robert swallowed the sticky lump in his throat and trudged through undergrowth so dense it blocked any hope of a breeze. His pack dug into his shoulders, trapping in the sweat and weighing down his steps. They were over thirty miles away from the nearest town; the never-ending boreal forest expanded acres upon acres in every direction. When he had taken the job, he had envisioned birdsong, wind through the trees, and solitude, but here—this far from town, from Lena—the sheer enormity of the wilderness sparked a strange sense of panic in him. A man could die out here and no one would ever find him.
Jakob’s faint yell sounded from somewhere up ahead. Had that idiot finally made it to the proposed mine site? Robert continued ahead, panting as perspiration ran into his eyes. They had to be there soon. Please let it be soon. And please let there be water.
Finally, the thickets of mountain maple and hazelnut shrubs gave way, and Robert stumbled into a grove of more sparsely growing pine trees. A wall of granite rose from the far end of the clearing, a bluff so high its top exceeded even the tips of the tallest white pines. And there, at the base of the bluff, was Jakob, his white-blond hair bright in the sunlight as he stared at the top of the cliff.
“I think this is it!” Jakob called.
It certainly looked like the place Nelson had described. If they were right, a large vein of copper ran right through that slab of rock, enough to make them very rich men indeed. And this clearing would be perfect for building the cabins. Perhaps he and Lena would be okay after all.
Robert reached into his pocket and felt for the chain of his pocket watch. He fished it out, its face glinting in the golden sun. Just past three o’clock. He cursed under his breath. They were running behind. Too far behind—they were supposed to finish their surveying by the end of the day to head back tomorrow. Robert slipped the watch back in his pocket and was just about to call for Jakob when his partner’s unmistakable towhead disappeared into a chasm in the bluff. Robert ground his teeth, picking up speed. Finding water was the priority. Not needlessly exploring.
“Jakob, stop!”
He reached the bluff and found the dark cleft Jakob had entered, a lopsided mouth sliced into the rock’s face. Robert shouted into the opening, but his voice came back with a reverberating echo.
“This is it,” Jakob’s voice called. There was a moment’s pause before he shouted again. “Robert, come look at this!”
Robert took a tentative step into the dark chasm. Damn Jakob. He had been hesitant about being paired with someone so young for such an expedition; Jakob was barely seventeen, and while Nelson had assured Robert that he was fit for the task, their whole trip had seemed to be one poor decision on Jakob’s part after another. And now this.
“Let’s do this later!” Robert shouted. “Come back, and we’ll find water first!”
There was no answer.
“Jakob?” Still nothing.
And then, resounding from deep in the chasm, came a ringing, panicked scream.
“Jakob!”
Robert dropped his pack and entered the chasm, walking as quickly as his blistered feet would allow. Darkness swallowed him and the low ceiling brushed his hair. The scream sounded again. Robert moved faster, feeling the rough walls, and then screamed himself. If he hadn’t been treading carefully on his aching feet, he might have missed it. There, in the middle of the path, was a gaping, craggy hole. The remnants of a splintered fence crumbled beside the hole’s opening: a test pit, or the start of a shaft leading to lower levels of the new mine.
“Jakob!”
Robert’s voice exploded from him like dynamite, his stomach twisting into a sickening knot. Jakob’s faint yell echoed from deep within the hole. Robert fell back to the ground, head spinning, vision darkening. There was no knowing how far down the pit went, or if there was a way out; Nelson’s men weren’t finished preparing it for the arrival of the miners. A wave of nausea overcame him. What if there wasn’t a way out?
“Robert, I’m here.”
The voice filled Robert’s head, no longer from far away. It felt like it was inside his own mind. The voice sounded again, though this time it wasn’t alone. It was a chorus of voices, chanting together.
“Come join us.”
A strange pain wound tightly around Robert’s head. He was spinning, aching, overcome by the heat. His calloused hands pressed into the rocky earth. Call for help. Must get help.
But as he tried to stand on trembling legs, something shifted in the distance. It was like the darkness itself was moving. Robert’s breath burst in and out as the tremble in his legs became a full-on quake. And then, behind the pit, rose a large, long-haired figure.
The scream that erupted from him was instinctual, unstoppable. He reached desperately for the wall, the earth—anything—as he started to fall, the air around him growing colder and colder as he hurtled downward, her name echoing through the void as he hopelessly called for the only person he wanted to see one last time…
Then nothing.
Like what you're reading? Scholar & Scribe is hosting a writing contest set within the world of the Sitka Saga, for details check out: @jfuji/win-20-hsbi-and-more
I'll continue sharing more of the Saga over the coming days.