Jason read his book in the graveyard near the school, as he often did, delaying his walk home to the inevitable fighting that ensued.

The clouds covered the sun as a fall breeze whisked crisp leaves around the tombstones.

The Vikings are now believed to have arrived in North America as early as 1021, Predating Columbus by centuries. Because of recent findings of wood found in a Norse settlement near Nova Scotia, scientists have carbon-dated the tree rings used, and assume the Vikings’ presence in early America most likely predated even the year 1000 AD.

This can say much about the Vikings’ militant culture, long-sea-voyage navigation skills, and explorer —

Jason’s reading screeched to a halt as he heard the first series of shouts and whistles from the boys from school.

He shut his book, shoving it in his bag and crouched behind the nearest headstone, knowing in his gut it was already too late. They’d seen him.

Four young men, each a full head taller than him, strolled into the graveyard, picking up sticks and rocks as they approached the tombstone Jason hid behind.

He knew, even without sticks, at fifteen years old, these boys could do as much damage as his father, even when he got into his drunken rage fits.

“We see you little fairy!” Scott, normally the first of them to instigate, yelled from less than fifty feet away.

Scheisse, Jason thought as he steeled himself for the beating to come.

He would at least give them a better run for it this time.

As the bullies neared the tombstone, Jason shot out and sprinted for the edge of the tree line.

Hoots and hollers followed as they all jumped over logs and bent under branches.

One boy grabbed his collar for an instant, before Jason ripped the other direction, pulling the boy over a log behind him.

Jason looked back for an instant to see the other three gaining on him and regretted it as he lurched forward.

Off a ledge, he tumbled down a ravine.

Cutting his now bleeding hands on jagged shale at the bottom as he stood up, the boys made their ways down after him, laughing.

Jason turned and ran downstream in the ankle-deep creek, not caring how wet, ripped, and bloody his clothes were getting as he did so.

He rounded the corner out of sight of the boys for an instant.

Jason jumped over a rock and lost his footing, landing on a partially covered sinkhole.

Jason fell through the darkness for a few full seconds before landing inside a water-filled cave. He rolled and looked around at the cave, lit by the hole he fell through, just big enough for a narrow body to fall in.

He inched backwards until he leaned against the cold, dripping stone wall.

Splashes of the boys’ footsteps passed overhead as he held his breath. Minutes went by as he stood frozen, his eyes adjusting to the inky-black of the cave.

In the distance, he smiled as he heard the frustrated shouts of the gang as they continued their search for him.