Eyes Ever to the Sky (A Sci Fi Romance) (The Sky Trilogy) Read Free Page A

and dragged her daughter toward the house. Would she call the police? Hugh sprinted into the woods, ignoring the stabs of sticks and branches.
    About a mile away in a sun-dappled clearing, Hugh skidded to a stop. Nestled between pines and maples, he put his hands to his knees and took gasping breaths. Slipping the backpack off, he pulled out the plump package of hot dogs, his mouth watering. He tore the package open with his teeth savagely. Meat juice slid over his tongue and his stomach seized. He sucked down eight dogs, barely stopping to chew. When they were gone, he belched and patted his stomach. Satisfied. For the moment.
    He pulled open the backpack and dug into the contents. Inside he found a white t-shirt with the words Made in Detroit circling a wrench-wielding worker. He pulled the t-shirt over his head. It was a tight fit, but the soft fabric stretching across his chest relaxed him. He fished out a pair of shorts next: light blue, nylon and far too short. He sighed as he tugged at the women’s shorts. They clung to his thighs and groin making him look like a sporty cross-dresser, but at least he wasn't naked. He dragged out a pair of women’s running shoes, but couldn’t pull them over his heels. Barefoot for now.
    Hugh stretched out on the carpet of pine needles and laced his fingers behind his head. Blue sky peeked between shifting patterns of green as the wind stirred the branches. The birds chirped to one another. Hugh nestled back and soaked up the serenity. He watched a Chickadee hop into a nest with something clutched in her beak. Her babies peeped anxiously.
    He'd proven today he could survive. He was healthy and strong. He had brains. And he would remember who he was. Wouldn't he?
    He closed his eyes and pushed for a memory. Anything lurking behind the cobwebs in his brain.  
    Slowly, an image of a grassy field appeared in his mind’s eye. Excited for even a wisp of memory, he strained to see the blurry image. Something solid rose from the grass— large, concrete and cylindrical, like a silo. Was he looking at a farm? Something from his childhood? He tried to push the vision outward, stretching it in his mind, but the vision fogged and died.
    He opened his eyes, a headache pounding behind them. Whatever he'd seen, he could sense its importance. That place called to him. He needed to find it. He closed his eyes again, searching for the memory, but nothing appeared, just a steady, unsettling void. The headache pounded harder and he was exhausted. He let his eyes shift to the overlapping leaves above. He couldn't keep them open. 
    The earth rocked beneath him, a giant boom cracking through the quiet. His sat up. Around him, the birds cawed and thrust themselves into the air.
    This was bad.
    Hugh bolted upright. He was sprinting toward the sound before he could think.
    A rift in the trees appeared and Hugh skidded to a stop. It was as if something had crash-landed from above. The hairs on his arms stood up as he looked at the snapped and splintered tree trucks, the burning branches, the ground plowed in a quarter-mile scar of dirt and debris. A sick feeling crept up his throat. In the middle of it all sat a twenty-foot wide crater. 
    Sweat broke out across his back. His breathing quickened. He stepped toward the crater, his heart pounding. Would someone… be inside it?
    Hugh took a few uneasy steps until he was at the edge, the mounds of displaced earth squishing between his bare toes. He leaned forward, held his breath and peered into the hole.
    Empty.
    He stumbled back. How did he feel about finding nothing? What had he expected, someone inside just like him? Someone who could answer his one million burning questions?
    He dropped his head. All he wanted was to stop feeling so utterly alone. 
    His eyes on the ground, he noticed something he'd overlooked, long scratches dug deep into the grass at the edge of the crater. It was as if something, some animal, had clawed its way up and out. How had it