Truly Infinite

By Jeffrey Dublin

Leona and Zander are high school students who grew up in a bad neighborhood. One day, amidst a sudden and glorious flash of light, an object is given to them for an unknown reason. The two kids find that this artifact can let them travel to other universes beyond their own. It seems this power could be the ultimate tool to change their lives, but little do they know of the severe consequences it will bring.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeffrey Dublin
• Release date: Dec 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386871279

Jeffrey Dublin

I'm 19 years old. Currently attending San Francisco State University. Writing is one of the most fulfilling things for me. I don't do it for money. It I make 0$ dollars on every book I put out, I'll still keep writing.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Was it possible that it would somehow become good if Leona just stared at it for long enough? ...That strategy wasn’t working. Her fingers softly wrapped across the desk as her eyes bored into the paper. In the middle of the storm of marks and self-revisions was a section of text that just didn’t sit right with her. It read:

...This is the tale of a brave Princess and an evil witch. The strong and beautiful Aaliyah, daughter of the king, will be the only one left to save the world from the approaching darkness...

She stopped reading. Could something just simply be bad with no other explanation? No, there had to be something she could improve on. It was maybe the third or fourth time she had tried to rewrite this beginning paragraph to her story. The other failed attempts were strewn up the page, left there to die.

Focus, she told herself, Why exactly don’t I like this? She took a breath and started to think. Perhaps the problem was that it gave too much away? The idea was to preface the story with the major events to get people interested from the start, but at the same time, it just gave everything away right there. Or was it the voice she was writing in; one that didn’t sound very interesting.

With a pencil, she put a line through ‘The strong and beautiful,’ she could show that later. She paused, thought for a moment, then continued striking through, taking out the rest of the second sentence. Again, she could show how she tried to save the world later. However, she circled ‘approaching darkness.’ That sounded decent, possibly a good description for later. But perhaps she’d been too quick before. The two words were both circled and struck through. It just looked like a mess. So there was only the first line. She re-read it to herself. She put a line through that too.

Why was this part that was giving her the most trouble? She had written parts before. Sometimes scenes from the middle, then jumping to near the end. Back to make notes for the setup, but the actual first few lines were just-

Miss Thrace. A tired voice called. Leona’s head darted up and she froze. She was made painfully aware of the fact that she was in a high school classroom as almost every other set of eyes were looking at her. She swallowed hard. Leona with her long blonde hair, slightly crooked glasses and pink sweater, sitting directly in the middle of the classroom felt like she was being crushed under the weight of all the attention.

The question, Miss Thrace, the voice repeated, originating from Mrs. Roslin, the math teacher with a face decorated with wrinkles. She was among those many sets of eyes.

Leona slowly reached up, took off the glasses and set the spectacles on the desk. Anything to help her buy a second.

Could you... She began, her voice sounding tiny, Please repeat the question? I, uh, didn’t hear you. Her fingers were fidgeting with the edges of her pink sweater. Even though Mrs. Roslin was down at the front of the room, Leona could still notice her teacher’s expression subtly change to something even more annoyed.

You are supposed to be paying attention when we grade homework, Mrs. Roslin continued in her flat, lifeless voice. Homework, right! Leona reached into her backpack and pulled her planner: a messy stack of paper stuck inside a notebook that was far too small to hold everything together. She had to grip it tightly to keep the sheets from sliding around, threatening to spill out onto the floor. The seconds painfully kept ticking by. After a short eternity, she had a random mass of paper strewn across her desk. Now which one of these was the one she needed?

Tell me Leona, Mrs. Roslin started. The girl tensed, hearing her first name was never a good sign. What’s so important that it prevents you from having your homework ready when you should? her mouth was clamped shut, unable to answer. Why don’t you stand up and read to the class?

Leona shut her eyes for a long moment before she slowly stood up. Mrs. Rosalin had to have been referring to the thing Leona was writing, but maybe she could feign ignorance and just read out a question from her homework? She looked at the page, only vaguely aware that a few voices were beginning to snicker around her. The class was maybe on question... fifteen?

The answer is, she began, really having to try to keep the discomfort out of her voice, X equals twenty-

I mean that other thing that is stealing your attention. The teacher interrupted without mercy. Leona froze, hoping that if she didn’t do anything at all, then maybe it would all go away.

I’ll help! A shrill voice abruptly screeched from Leona’s right. Before she could even react, the girl sitting next to Leona leaned all the way over and swiped the page from the desk.

Hey! Leona protested, trying to make a grab for it. Too late. Cindy, the girl sitting next to her held it out of reach from Leona. Cindy was one of those teenagers who always tried to act all dark and mysterious and so on and so forth, wearing her typical all black tee-shirt and jeans. When in reality she was just your average, edgy self-absorbed highschooler. One that just so happened to actually hold all the power in this situation. She flashed an evil smile before turning to read. Leona could hardly believe what was happening.

This is what Lee Loo was so absorbed in, Mrs. Roslin! Cindy said, shaking the paper around without thought. Now Leona would rather have had everyone staring at her again, not listening to this other girl. This is the tale of- Cindy began, but stopped abruptly. Her face turning from smugness to confusion. Edit: possibly work title into first few lines. Or perhaps too cheesy? She paused again, meanwhile the whole class was starting to look as confused as her. For a moment, Leona perked up. It seemed like Cindy would end up looking like the fool.

More notes... she continued. The idea was snuffed out instantly. Oh, right... Leona had written something in the margins. Oh god why? Why did she do this? This is so bad. Oh god. Oh god. Cindy read out loud. RIP my career of being a writer. She looked up at the classroom for a second. This is actually what’s written here. Then there’s a bunch of scratched out words. Uh-lee-huh. Cindy said, trying to sound out a name. Eeeh- tor-ho. Tor-jo."

Leona cringed and sat down in her desk, shutting her eyes tight. She covered her ears to try to block out the chuckles she heard from the other students.

Then it goes back to... ‘This is the tale of princess- Cindy continued, before being cut off.

That’s enough, Mrs. Roslin said, her voice loud enough to be heard through covered ears, I believe Mrs. Thrace gets the idea.

Leona didn’t look up. She just knew the whole class was staring at her again, probably judging her as some insane person. From the corner of her eye, she saw the now slightly-crumpled piece of paper be slid onto her desk.

Riveting. Cindy said mockingly into her ear. I can’t wait to find out how it ends. A person could almost hear the smirk that had to be on the bully’s face.

Now, Mr. Deniz, could you answer question twenty-one? Mrs. Roslin continued, her voice trained on someone else now.

The school bell let out a piercing howl after some time. Leona made sure she was the first one up to leave as soon as she heard it, standing up even before the teacher finished saying ‘See you on Monday.’ She walked fast, trying to avoid any contact with another human being if she could avoid it. However, she did spare a single glance back down the hall, just to see if anyone was spying on her. She could see Cindy and her friend staring back. Leona’s head snapped forward.

The gray sidewalk became a blur as Leona walked home as fast as she could. It was like she could still feel the burn of eyes looking at her. A small part of her knew this feeling was completely irrational. Most of the other freshmen are so dead inside that no one in her class would even remember what had just happened when the weekend was over. But Cindy will, and she would no doubt have something to say about it.

The decrepit neighborhood flashed by with each step. Nothing but rundown houses, with their rusted chain link fences that only went up to waist height, just to protect yards which looked like they had never known the color green.

Finally, she arrived home, at the door of the dirty old house. The white paint was faded and flaking off. She pulled on the screen door that never quite closed all the way and unlocked the wooden door behind it with her house key. She walked inside, her shoes stepping onto the brown carpet, although it would probably be more accurate to call it one giant stain that simply was the floor. Leona had started wearing shorts, just to avoid wearing clothing that was long enough to make contact with whatever had to be living in the carpet.

I’m home! she called out of force of habit to whoever was there. She stepped forward through the small living room, her favorite, mostly-functional TV sitting in the corner. Something she’d spent endless hours sitting in front of, feeling half dead, watching whatever fantasy or science fiction shows she could find. Even if they weren’t considered good. Maybe she would do more of that later today to put the events of the day out of her head. But then again, maybe she would just go to her room, shut all the doors and cover the windows.

She continued down a hallway, letting her hand drift along the mostly smooth white walls until she reached her room at the end of the hall on the right. Her hand pulled the door closed behind her as she stepped inside. She took off her backpack and practically threw it onto the nearby bed. Leona gave into gravity, sitting down beside the pack, letting the soft comforter catch her.

She wanted to lay down. Just have a few minutes before the next part of life needed her for something. After a long and painful day, just one minute...

Leona? a voice said from down the hall. She keenly eyed the door. It opened and closed as a figure, her father, stepped inside. He was a stout man, wearing his stained white shirt and grey sweatpants that seemed to suit him nicely. Holes shown through where the knees were but that was pretty much the norm where they lived.

Yes? Leona said, trying to give him a half-hearted smile.

We need to talk. his deep voice said in a way that made her tense.

About what?

I checked your grades online earlier today... He continued. His daughter shifted uncomfortably. Hadn’t she already been harassed enough by school stuff for one day? They aren’t great, he said, obviously putting it lightly.

I know dad, I’m trying though, Leona said, already trying to control the damage.

Well the teacher has been leaving notes too. Pretty much all of them are saying the same thing, you keep getting distracted. Why was he bringing this up now? It wasn’t even close to when final grades went out, so she still have a lot of time to fix things, right? She wanted to say something but at the same time... not at all. As if the conversation would end faster if she didn’t do anything.

Or even really listen. She just sat there, absently responding Yes or mhmm to questions or statements that probably wanted some sort of sign that she was engaged. She was looking at her father, but all she could think about was the feeling of the silky comforter beneath her fingers.

Her dad was saying something about her writing or doodling in class when she shouldn’t. Or something about how this or that was unacceptable. She had heard it all before. Every time it lost a little more meaning. But there was one sound which touched her ears that yanked her right back into the moment.

I’ve decided to take your computer until your grades get better. Said her dad firmly.

What? Leona snapped. But-

And all those stacks of paper you’ve been obsessing over for the longest time now. You have a D in two classes and an F in math, until you get them to at least a C, I’m not giving it back. Leona was already standing up, practically sprinting across the tiny room to the desk near the window. She opened the desk draw only to find it empty.

Dad! You can’t! She’d spent countless hours on her old and dented laptop which gave her a slow, but mostly reliable link to the internet. Or how her stacks of notes gave some validation to the hours of sitting and thinking. All her stories, ideas and pieces of herself. From personal introspective essays to the most random pieces of fanfiction.

Like how she took about two months to essentially completely rewrite the ending of one of her favorite shows. Because it didn’t make any sense how at the end, Robert still loved Alison instead of Nika, which was the dumbest thing since Alison had like no characterization at all, but he was always so obsessed with her anyway for no reason. And Nika helped him with all those battles and is so sweet and is totally the best girl and they should have been together and... Well, maybe it was a giant waste of time to write about a show that couldn’t really be considered good in the first place, but it was her time spent nonetheless. And now all of that was gone.

I can, he said bluntly. And I did. Leona turned her head, trying to give him a harsh glare, only to have her glasses start to slip off her nose from turning too fast. She tried to steady them, but whatever effect she might have had was gone. I’m just doing what is best for you. Her father concluded as if he was a walking, talking cliche. He opened the door, started to leave, but paused. Oh, and I’m going somewhere tonight and I’ll be back late. He chuckled That gives you a chance to get a head start on your homework. He gently shut the door behind him as he left.

Leona didn’t move for a while, stunned. Not even knowing how to react. He basically just walked in, took her things and left. Well, he had to have taken it earlier, before she got home but who cares about the details? She sat down in her desk chair and died. Or at least that's what it felt like. She had to prop her head up with her arm just to avoid crashing into the hard wood.

Her eyes sluggishly peered through the window, scanning the small field behind their house. The withered and dying grass was dotted with patches of brown dirt, extending to a line of trees who looked as tortured as the land around it. Above it was the sky which had been covered over with power lines and cables, ripping the solid blue into pieces.

But something about this picture was off. Leona sat up, trying to get a better look. There was some weird faded smear in the sky. It was small and hard to completely make out. She had to squint to see the fuzzy edges. Her fingers scratched at the window. Nothing gave. It wasn’t a stain or anything. There was definitely something in the sky. Too blurry to be the moon. Whatever this thing was, she could maybe describe it as... a distant but bright star, twisted and warped into a streaking spiraling point of white light.

How odd. When did it get there? Was it always there and no one noticed? Maybe it was some quirk of astronomy or an atmospheric... thing. Or was it something different entirely? Immediately, without trying, some part of her brain started to give it a narrative. What if it was some alien structure. Gigantic, millions of miles away. Invisible to the eye when turned off but now activated to do... well, she could figure that part out later.

She stood up, walking back to her bed. She grabbed her notebook from her backpack and ripped out a piece of paper. She hurried back to her desk, picked up a pen out of a mug at the corner of her work space and started jotting things down. If her dad took her ideas, and the internet wasn’t there to provide, then she’ll just have to come up with something new on her own.

MAYBE IT WAS TIME HE should stop... soon. Thunder echoed through the room. Thick foam gloves impacted over and over again. The punching bag shook as Zander put all his force into each blow. His dark skin was washed in hot sweat. His short, brown, normally unkempt hair was in even worse shape than usual, now glued to his forehead. His white tank top and black workout shorts stuck to his skin.

His mind was in a constant rhythm always trying to find the best possible way to exert force on the various parts of his body’s numerous muscles. Working his mind in equal part to his body.  Each blow accompanied by a sharp hiss of air from his lungs. It was important that he exhaled with every punch. Part of the core idea; if you’re fighting and you run out of air, you lose.

The constant sounds of punching and breathing were the only things that rang through the empty school gymnasium. Everyone else had left a while ago, but not him.

To start his extended workouts, he would do some jump rope to get his heart beating at a rate he rarely ever let drop until the entire session was over. Then weights, along with various exercises. Occasionally he would do stretching. He knew it was important, but he let it slide more than he should. Standing awkwardly, pulling on a limb, doing nothing for long periods of time didn’t really appeal to him. He’d rather get to the most relaxing part as quickly as he could: just taking some time to put punches into a leather bag. Despite the constant strain and loud noise, it just seemed like something simple yet satisfying he could do to pass time. A couple of times he did this to the point where his knuckles became red and raw, and he didn’t mind it then.

But now, he still felt like he had something more in him. He drew back one of his fists and let it rip with full force. And messed up. His punch awkwardly chipped the punching bag at a bad angle. His eyes widened and stung as he quickly brought it to his chest clenching it tight with his other hand.

Ghhhuhh- He grunted sharply.

Abdi! A voice bellowed. Zander immediately clamped his teeth together, trying to stifle any noise. He turned toward the familiar sound. His coach, Mr. Robbs, strolled in through the double doors at the corner of the room. Zander immediately put his arm behind his back, pressing it against himself. As if this would somehow lead to his coach not noticing. Both his hands were clasped together tightly, even through the thick gloves, trying to bury the constant piercing sensation.

Hey Mr. R, Zander said, sounding a little bit too artificial, How’s it going? His coach strode up, clad in his usual brown trousers and red coat, bearing the Will Rodger High School symbol on the arm; a cartoony grey moose inside a green circle. The coach's face, including his trademark bushy mustache, was looking a little bit more puzzled with each step.

Abdi, is something wro-

No. Zander replied way too fast. I, uh... what’s up? The coach’s eyes narrowed. He took a few tense extra seconds before he said anything.

Ah, not much, He eventually continued casually. It seemed the coast was clear. Zander’s arm still might have felt better if it wasn’t attached to his body, but at least his coach wasn’t going to worry about it now. But listen, I’ve got to ask you something. Why is it that you always... ya’ know, never leave? Mr. Robbs pointed at the punching bag. You gotta vendetta against that thing or what?

Oh, Zander said with a chuckle, Well you know, you can’t be the best if you don’t do what it takes. Robbs crossed his arms as a smile played across his face.

You know... Sometimes you need to learn to take a break. Working so much can end up getting you hurt.

No idea what you’re talking about. Zander said with a confident voice that surprised even himself.

Is that so? his coach said, managing to sound suspiciously casual.

How else am I going to please my thousands of adoring fans? Zander said with a grin. He was already thinking of the event. He would be in the school’s probably shoddy-looking boxing ring, scoring point after point for his team. People might just take notice of him. Okay, so maybe thousands wasn’t the right word, but some people would gather around him after the event and congratulate him, even his parents would be there. They would give him a hug, big smiles. Talk to him... If they weren’t busy of course.

Sure. His coach said. Anyway, time to pack it up. We’re supposed to close down around now.

When exactly?

Twenty minutes ago.

Oh, Zander chuckled, I understand. I can handle putting away the bag on my own. Will be out soon.

Alright Abdi. See ya’ monday. The coach said, turning around to leave

Later coach! Zander called.

Wait, one more thing. The coach said abruptly, turning back around. I’m not sure what you did exactly, but next time... take it a little bit easier. Zander’s smile faded. Can’t have you dying before the big competition can we? He blinked.

Again... no idea what you’re talking about, he said. His coach just chuckled, turned and walked away. As the doors shut with a metallic clank, Zander instantly dropped to his knees, clutching his arm even harder.

Ow ow ow ow! He yelled at the top of his lungs.

He managed to get everything put away after awhile. The heavy punching bag and its stand were placed in a large janky-looking cage in the center of the locker room. He took off his gloves and changed out of his gym clothes which he just decided to leave in his locker over the weekend. He could clean them later. Zander pulled on his blue jeans, tennis shoes and actually clean black tee. Lastly, he slung his favorite, if well-used, dark green jacket over his shoulder along with his backpack over the other. He still needed to cool down a bit before he properly dawned both.

He had his bad hand in his pocket as he walked, the other holding a leathery strap of his backpack. Stepping out the side exit to the gym and onto the sidewalk, the cool evening air swept over him. He looked at the brilliant sunset as blue flowed into pink and bright orange and finally into the far away yellow of the sun. All of these colors were painted onto the clouds.

The decrepit houses passed by as he walked. He breathed in and out, focusing on the cold that tickled his nostrils. Mainly, he was trying not to think about his arm. It felt a bit better now and he could tell it definitely wasn’t going to be a lasting injury but... he would probably feel it the next morning. Eventually it would be gone and he would forget about it.

Then Zander noticed something. Up ahead, at the edge of a grassy park that looked like it had never been watered, there were a large group of people gathered together. Maybe it was a party or something? He just let his eyes slide back over to some undefinable point as he let his mind wander again. There wasn’t a point to stopping, a small crowd is hardly-

It’s gone again! someone said, snapping Zander out of his trance. He looked at the crowd of people, cocking his head to the side when he realized they were all staring up at an angle towards the sky. He followed their gaze and only saw clouds in a sky which continued to darken. He turned his attention to a woman standing near him.

Uh, what’s going on? Zander asked the stranger.

Shhh, shh, sh! she muttered quickly, holding her hand up in a gesture to shut Zander up, not even turning to look at him. She quickly pointed back at the sky. Just look. Despite feeling slightly annoyed at being shushed, Zander did as the woman said. Squinting, all he could see was the white wisps that dotted the sky, slowly moving in the breeze like-

Was that it? The something began to poke out as the clouds moved and shifted. Didn’t seem like much though and Zander was about