The Great Wild Adventure

By Aroosh Nagarsekar

Lauren Wild, an Australian detective goes on the hunt for two escaped prisoners. The family follows a trail of bait and must go through harrowing natural disasters, kidnapping, explosions, and near-death experiences. Will they make it out alive?

Read on to find out more…

 

 

'Watch out JK Rowling, there is a new kid in town. Aroosh Nagarsekar has arrived with a wonderful debut novel!'

-Tim Harris (Author of Exploding Endings and Mr Bambuckle's Remarkables)

 

'I couldn't stop flicking through these pages! An action-packed read.'

Tina Edwards (11 years old)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aroosh Nagarsekar
• Release date: Nov 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215185124

Aroosh Nagarsekar

Aroosh Nagarsekar is the author of "The Great Wild Adventure". Aroosh wrote this book at the age of 11, due to his passion for poetry and writing. He prospered to "write to entertain" and based his book on the prior knowledge he had already gained in school. His book was mainly based on the horrific events that happen around the world. His first book provides a detailed, entertaining view of natural disasters and poetry.

Book preview

The Cinematic Underworld

Prologue

It seemed to be a pleasant day,

But the hopeful thought was put in dismay,

Death travels through the town and bay,

Yet citizens fight, strong but in vain

---

The shimmering lights dimmed... A new aura filled the silent hall. Distant mutters of excitement came from the audience.

The children waited impatiently as the curtains opened slowly, taking their own time. The crowd performed a standing ovation, many grinning and applauding. An old man sitting in the front row shushed the crowd and smiled appreciatively.

The man had dissociative identity disorder (DID). Although he didn’t know it, it had impacted his life in many ways, and he often woke in strange places with no clue whatsoever how he got there.

‘Reg sit down!’ a woman said in the back, throwing popcorn at the old man.

Reg looked around and then sat down, like a robot. Someone threw a can at his head, and Reg groaned. He stood up, as though he had won an award. ‘Huh!’ he exclaimed. Reg sat down again after a few insults bounced off his hearing aids. Having finished his popcorn, he grunted in frustration, stood up using his walking stick, and almost collapsed.

Reg stood back up, and he put on his glasses. The screen glowed bright, and Reg squinted as the title spread across the screen. The title Earth Corruption illuminated the screen, with mud pouring out of the letters. It then shifted into a scene.

Reg seemed to enjoy the movie; a tale of wonders and disaster that only the bravest could survive. The film production was great, and Reg had never seen anything like it.

It was the mere dawn of the revolution, yet it still was amazing. The special effects added a whole new dimension to television. Reg gasped, putting his hand on the chair. He felt a tiny vibration and chuckled. ‘Stop it!’ he demanded. Members of the audience shushed him, ‘Shut your mouth, Grandpa, or we’ll make you.’

Reg turned around, confused. His hearing was more dysfunctional than his disorder, and so he smiled, not understanding what had happened. In his frustration, he almost missed the good parts of the movie. The ground erupted, and the fire burned. It reminded Reg of the war when he flew the North American P-51D Mustang. The thought almost unleashed his demons, his fierce side of life.

Reg chuckled. ‘Oh, the good times,’ he muttered. Feeling the same tickling sensation on his hand, he looked around. ‘Stop it,’ he said. The sensation did not. He yelled louder, his voice croaking.

One of the chairs at the front rocked madly, and a whistle blew through the dark hall. The screen went blank, and Reg threw his hands in the air. The ground rumbled, just like in the movie. People in the crowd didn’t seem to understand.

A few of the crowd members seemed confused. ‘Dad, the seats are moving; they’re so realistic!’ exclaimed a young girl.

Reg seemed to know better. He got up on his walking stick, as another tremble echoed through the hall. The crowd seemed to notice, as Reg tripped over. A few people laughed, but then a shriek sounded. There was a ripping sound, and more screams as Reg tried to pick himself up to see what was happening.

Several chairs were ripped apart, leaving a gaping hole in the middle. ‘EARTHQUAKE!’ croaked Reg as loud as he could. The crowd started to evacuate in large groups.

As another rip formed in the vast earth, Reg was thrown over yet again. He called for help, yet no one came. In a moment of despair, Reg almost succumbed to the darkness. He could sense someone staring at him, their eyes digging into the back of his head.

Reg looked up; a muscular man was looking closely at him but said nothing. He ran out, leaving Reg alone, just one man standing outside the door. He picked up a spanner and smashed it against the glass. After countless efforts, Reg realised he was destined to die.

The doors closed, and he was left all by himself.

Reg gulped, swallowing his fear. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, a gut-wrenching feeling in his throat. He cursed loudly as the pain worsened and fell to his knees. He blinked, and a different person emerged. ‘Whoa, what the heck? Wah-?’ Reg breathed in, and another person came out. Frank, his second identity had come to his aid.

‘Ok, what do I do?’ He started to mumble and tremble. ‘Windowless room, massive crack.’ He took a deep breath. Locked doors, ones that these hands could not break. He scratched his chin. Suddenly, Frank felt goosebumps.

He closed his eyes. ‘Oh lord, have mercy.’ The trembles in the Earth woke him, and he started climbing, like a wild gorilla. ‘Come on, there should be a panel here. He fell over and hit his head, gasping for air. After all, he was only an elderly man. Reg’s third identity woke, Mandy.

‘Oh, come on! My whole life is always like this!’ Mandy seethed. Mandy had been through quite a lot and was much tougher than Reg.

Mandy frowned, climbed up the row of chairs, and started climbing the wall, using his walking stick like a dagger. He could only imagine what he would look like: a ball of wrinkles rolling up a hill. Mandy sighted a projector; he smashed it to pieces on the wall, and the entire system collapsed, a fire blazing on the floor. Thankfully, the hole which the projector occupied had now been left free, and Mandy jumped through it, possibly into a worse place.

For an elderly man, Mandy was coping well with all his bruises. In an earlier part of his life, Mandy had temporarily occupied the body for 30 years, and he accomplished his dreams of becoming an 0-10 (Five-Star General) in the military.

Since then, he had become an expert at almost anything physical, until Reg took back control. However, old age had taken a toll on Mandy/Reg/Frank, and so his once formidable form had become vulnerable.

Mandy rolled on the floor, spraining his withered ankles. He cursed, hating his stupid body. ‘This seems different to the war. Where are the women working? The destruction, constant warpath... is it all gone?’ he asked himself. Mandy’s life had started and ended in WW2, so the situation was new and uncomfortable. He busted the door, limping on his better foot. He balanced on the walking stick, which was broken and sharper than a knife.

Mandy traipsed over to the front desk and rang the bell. No one answered, however, a man was lying on the floor clutching his bleeding hand. In the war, Mandy had learned to fend for himself, and so he ignored the man’s pleas and cries. Cracks ran throughout the hall. Mandy sighed. Screams sounded from the exterior of the building, bricks plummeting out of the wreckage.

Mandy ran out of the building, avoiding all the cracks. He sighed in relief but was tripped over yet again by the third wave of the day. This one seemed to be bringing down the few auditoriums left in the cinema. Flames roared and buildings collapsed, but the sting that stood out the most was a vehicle, one Mandy had never seen before. ‘What is this? Automobiles? Has Hitler’s reign finally ended?’

Once he stepped out of the shade, he had a better view of everything. He could remember the war as bloodshed, but not like this, with cracks severing upon the ground, and an uprise in the Earth. An earthquake, Mandy thought. ‘Oh, thank God it's not bad.1’ Once he had a better view, he instantly regretted his choice of words. He stared at the San Francisco Bridge, which had collapsed, possibly with hundreds of people on it.

Mandy thankfully lived close to the cinema. All the gaps in the Earth seemed to be a problem, so (after a few hours of failed attempts) when he arrived at his house, or what was left of it, Mandy almost passed out. It was shattered, and there was a large crack running through it, and many other houses.

His breathing slowed, as he embraced his surroundings. ‘A 9.5 magnitude Earthquake has run through the city of San Francisco. So far, we have been notified of 1174 deaths, and 8,874 injuries,’ reported a man on television who had several scars himself.

Mandy gulped. He looked around. Buildings were shattered, apartments had fallen, houses had collapsed, bridges were broken, and the road wasn’t even visible; it was just a massive pile of rocks. Helicopters were circling overhead, as well as the police, ambulances, and injured citizens.

There had been no warning of the Earthquake. Were scientists getting sloppy? Mandy had never been an expert in this area, so he didn’t even know what was happening. Was this quake a freak accident? Mandy couldn’t answer his question as he fell on his bruised legs, which were in horrible condition.

He heard a rumble and the picture frame hanging on one nail, slipped, and shattered. Seek high ground, he told himself. New rips appeared on the Earth; it was almost as if he was running from the earthquake. Mandy took a deep breath and limped his hardest. Words could not describe the pain that he was going through, but he kept going, limping, and he thought he could make it!

The thought had jinxed him, as another tremble sent Mandy flying into a house. Mandy couldn’t walk, let alone limp. He lay on the floor, unable to move, or twitch due to his injuries. Yet he needed to find shelter. The house he was up against was damaged by the quake and was not in living condition.

With a bleeding lip, broken ankle, scar on his face, a blood clot on his leg, and a broken arm, Mandy collapsed, unable to walk, let alone run. Through his blurry vision, he saw a man put a bag over his head.

Mandy swallowed the blood gushing down his throat. He felt as if he was drowning in his blood as his eyes began to close, slowly, and finally at rest.

Mandy woke up a different person. He was sweating, his head felt numb, and he was light-headed. His arms were tied, and there was a gag in his mouth. His legs were taped to a chair ‘Who are you?’ a man asked. Reg kept silent. The man smacked a table with a metal baton.

‘I won’t ask twice!’

‘Reg Hathaway, 71 years old, retired from work.’

‘Good.’

He opened the blindfold. Reg felt as though he was blinded. He blinked numerous times, till he could see, then opened his eyes. He didn’t recognise his surroundings. Everything was blurry, and he had lost most of his senses: Touch, Taste, and Smell. The only senses that remained were sight and hearing, which wouldn’t help him to survive.

Reg could hear the man sharpening a blade. He had put on a banana mask, which covered his whole face. The man had muscles throughout his body, his veins clearly visible. He was muscular, a giant, so there was no way that Reg could take him on or escape. Reg felt dead and useless. He was barely living, like a numb bug in the water. He wanted to end it all and close his eyes for the final time.

‘Please,’ Reg spluttered.

‘I haven’t done anything. Let me go. I won’t tell anyone. Please.’

The gorilla man chuckled heartily. ‘You’re the man in the chair, not me. Don’t forget your place.’ He thumped Reg on the head, which was enough to knock him out.

In a mere few seconds, Mandy burst out. ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT?’ he yelled, both in fear, and anger. The voice chuckled; it was the same muscular man who watched him in the cinema.

The gorilla mask guy took off his mask. ‘My name is Treara Smith. My partner here is Luis,’ said the large man. ‘Welcome to Hell.’ The line would have been extremely cool if Mandy weren’t trapped.

He remembered the man; he was the same guy who had left Mandy all by himself at the cinema. ‘

‘You.’

‘WHAT DO YOU WANT?’ asked Mandy again. Treara smiled devilishly. ‘A new start,’ he answered. ‘We want to restart the Earth and fix it all. The Earthquake is simply the beginning of the end.’

Mandy tensed. Treara was getting on his nerve. ‘Stop kidding with me!’ Mandy sweated, knowing any minute that Treara could kill him. Treara laughed. ‘Death is coming your way.’ Mandy laughed. ‘Gag me with a spoon!’

Treara cracked his neck. ‘Luis, you have the tools. Ditch him, he’s useless. We only needed him to admit to the crimes, otherwise, the cops would find out soon enough. But now it seems stupid that an oldie would commit such treason,’ he mocked. Mandy could hear the swish of a blade, most