Nuworld: The Saga Begins

by Lorie O'Clare

  Tara looked quickly around the warehouse. The large space was empty except for abandoned boxes tossed in a corner. She ran to the boxes and grabbed several, collapsing them as she ran back to the stairs.

  “Hello? Can you here me?” Tara yelled through the smoke. She beat the fire with the flattened boxes until it had subsided somewhat. “I’m at the stairs. Are you hurt?”

  She threw the cardboard down on the stairs and quickly bolted up to the second floor. Fire leapt at her from the walls and ceilings.

  Tara entered a large, open room. The young lady was still standing by the open window. Tara ran to her and grabbed her shoulders. “Come on. The building is going to collapse.”

  “Who are you?” The woman looked horrified at Tara’s foreign appearance. Tara had grown accustomed to the dark-skinned race reacting to her that way. She doubted many of them had ever seen someone with her pale skin color. The woman was young, of small build. Her black hair had once been pulled up, but long strands fell wildly across her face and down her back. “I don’t know who you are.”

  “My name is Tara, and I’m going to get you out of here.”

  The lady, obviously in shock, looked around the room disoriented. She glanced at Tara and then down at the items she held in her arms. To Tara, they appeared to be loose papers and a small plastic container, similar to the kind Runners used to hold landlink discs.

  “This won’t stop anything, you know.” The lady was obviously delirious. “Why would they want to stop us? They’re not going to hurt us. They’re stranded where they are.”

  “Come on.” Tara guided her to the stairs.

  “We’ve already communicated with them. I don’t think they know that. This won’t stop anything,” the lady rambled.

  When they reached the stairs, Tara saw that the fire had engulfed the collapsed boxes. The lady’s body tensed, and she looked at Tara desperately. “We can’t die. We’ve come too far. They can help us, you know. And we can help them. We call them Lunians, which was my idea. But I don’t know if that’s what they call themselves.”

  The lady continued to babble as Tara looked frantically around the room, saying to herself, “We need something to stamp down the fire before it takes out the stairs.”

  The crackling of the rafters and the heat from the floor let Tara know the structure was only a few minutes away from collapse. The fire was closing in. The heat was unbearable. They had to move, or neither one of them would make it.

  She turned and looked out a window by the staircase. The men below still aimed the lone hose at the building. However, the broad-shouldered man who’d been talking to Fleeders was simply standing there watching it burn, calculating the minutes, probably, before they could go home. Through the darkness she could see him point to her, but none of the men moved.

  It was too far down to jump.

  “We’ve got to make a run for it,” she said, turning back to the burning staircase.

  “What?” The lady’s eyes looked terrified. “We’ll be killed.”

  “There’s no time to discuss it.” Tara grabbed the lady and threw her over her shoulder. The lady squirmed in protest, but Tara’s grip was firm. She dashed down the stairs straight through the flames. She could feel the heat singe her hair and clothes. The stairs cracked and groaned under their weight. Large popping sounds indicated that one moment too long would send them falling through. Her foot did break through the last stair, and she pulled with a vengeance to release it from the torn board. Pain shot up her ankle, her knee, and then her thigh as her foot popped free from the burning wood. She grimaced as she put weight on it and limped through the large open room toward the window where she’d entered.

  A large explosion told her the ceiling had caved in at the back of the building. Immediately, smoke from the collapsing wood filled the air, completely blinding Tara. The woman she carried screamed loudly, piercing Tara’s eardrum. The woman’s body went rigid with fear, and she made an attempt to jump out of Tara’s arms. Tara held onto her tightly with one arm and used her other hand to feel her way down the hallway. She reentered the small room and ran to the window, her feet crunching over the broken glass.

  “We can get out through this window.” Tara released the woman. “Quickly, climb out. The ground is just a few feet below.”

  “You’ve saved my life.” The lady climbed through the open window and then turned to smile at Tara. “I know who you are now. You are the Northerner I’ve heard about. Do you know about the Lunians?”

  “No, who are they?”

  “They are a colony living on the moon.”

  Tara froze in disbelief at these words as the lady stuck her legs out of the window and jumped. Another crash inspired movement and she, too, jumped out the window.

  Her injured foot protested loudly as she hit the ground. Pain shot up Tara’s leg. She fell sideways in response, and the rest of her body hit the hard ground. The crackling sounds nearby warned her that she still wasn’t safe. Using her good foot and both hands, she moved crablike away from the building to a safe distance. As she stood, putting the weight of her body on her good leg, she looked up in time to see the building collapse to the ground.

  The girl she’d rescued was gone. The crowd had dwindled, and the darkness, either from the night, the smoke, or both, made it hard to see. It was hard to identify which people were still hovering around the building. She didn’t see the broad-shouldered man anywhere.

  Tara turned and limped slowly toward her bike, thinking about what she had just heard. That lady had said something about a colony on the moon. She had called them Lunians. She said the Neurians had communicated with them. Tara squinted at the full moon. It looked the same as it always had.

  She wondered what communication had transpired with this Lunian people. She’d never given much thought to the moon, although she relied on its light at night and had enjoyed its beauty. But now she studied it, looking for something she hadn’t noticed before. The round object gave no indication that it housed life. But then, she felt sure with a good viewer she might notice something to indicate a city. Tara wondered what technology the Neurians possessed that allowed them to discover the people living there.

  Without warning, a hand came from behind her, covering her mouth. Then, she experienced a sensation she’d felt too many times before—someone had stuck the end of a pistol into the back of her rib cage.

  Tara turned instinctively and grabbed for the gun. Her aggressor was stronger than she was, but showed no knowledge of combat. She pulled the weapon from his grasp. Unfortunately, she turned and placed her weight on her bad foot. She grimaced in pain and let out a low shriek as she lunged helplessly to one side, unable to steady herself before falling to the ground.

  The glow from the fire silhouetted the figure standing over her. The broad-shouldered man with long flowing hair stared down.

  Still holding the gun in her hand, she aimed it up at him as she slowly forced herself into a standing position.

  “I’m not foolish.” The man’s voice was calm, almost soothing. “It’s not loaded.”

  She focused on his Neurian features. His brown skin was unblemished, and his dark eyes matched the color of his pupils. A small smile revealed white teeth almost glowing in the darkness. “I’m aware of your reputation as a warrior, and I had no doubts you’d be able to unarm me.” His singsong accent was as distracting as his features. “You have not disappointed me.”

  Tara looked at the gun in her hand and then nonchalantly tossed it away. Relying on that distraction, she reached for her laser. The distraction didn’t work.

  The man’s grin increased as he pulled another gun. “This one however is loaded.”

  “Fine, you win.” Tara held up her hands. “Now what?”

  “Can you walk?” The man continued to look straight into her eyes.

  Knowing this to be the perfect way to intimidate an enemy, Tara returned the gaze. “It depends on how far. If I’m lucky, I can make it back to my bike.�
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  “We’ll get you home to your babies. First though, you and I are going to talk.”

  With no warning, the man pulled the trigger on his gun, and Tara’s world went dark.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The first thing Tara felt was pain. Her entire body reverberated with it as she slowly tried to focus on her surroundings. The throbbing in her foot matched the throbbing in her head. Tara realized she was lying down and lifted her upper body onto her elbows. Everything around her was spinning, and her muscles felt very stiff. For a second, Tara had no idea why she lay here. She searched her brain for an explanation for the pain and why she would be sleeping. It hurt to concentrate, but panic threatened, and Tara didn’t like the sensation of fear beginning to consume her.

  Then it came to her. The fire. She had jumped from the window and hurt her foot. Tara turned her head with effort, the blurred surroundings making her dizzy and looked at her foot. It also appeared a blur. She blinked and allowed her eyes to focus on nothing while she worked her thoughts into order. It made no sense why pain in her foot would make her brain so foggy. And where was she? She needed to find her bike and get to her children. Tara made an effort to sit.

  “You’ll feel better in a few minutes,” a male voice said.

  She jerked her head toward the voice, and her vision returned.

  The man who’d shot her sat several feet away in a metal chair. His features were perfect. Eyes like onyx stared at her with long lashes almost reaching thick black eyebrows. He had pronounced cheekbones and a long, straight nose. Tara noticed strands of his long hair were braided, but otherwise his mane fell free past his shoulders and behind his back.

  His long legs disappeared into boots made of animal skin tied with leather straps just below his knees. He smiled, and his dark skin showed off his white teeth.

  She noticed her laser sitting on his lap. “Where am I?” Tara continued her effort to reach a sitting position. Her head still pounded.

  “You’re in my barn.”

  Tara moved slowly to the edge of the makeshift bed, which felt like nothing more than a bench with several quilts thrown over it. As she shifted her legs over the side, one foot hit the floor, and she felt incredible pain shoot upward. When she leaned over to massage it, she noticed it was bandaged. She grimaced, swiping her hair over her shoulder. For some reason, her hair seemed longer than it should be.

  “It was a pretty nasty scrape. Our doctor cleaned it up. He said it would hurt for awhile.”

  Tara glanced up at the man.

  “Would you like something to eat?”

  She shook her head, still dwelling on the pain in her foot.

  He handed her a plate of sliced light-colored meat and a small vine of grapes.

  Although she’d declined his offer, her stomach groaned loudly in protest, and she hated to admit she was famished. Reluctantly, Tara accepted the sustenance.

  “I figured you’d be pretty hungry. You’ve been asleep for several days.”

  Tara was stuffing one of the slices of meat into her mouth and had begun to chew eagerly when she heard his last words. She almost choked when she heard how long she’d slept. Instantly, she thought of Syra and the babies. What would Syra have done when she didn’t come home? Tara immediately feared the worse. There was no satisfactory outcome. Andru and Ana would have cried for her. Syra hadn’t known the children that long. She wouldn’t have been able to calm them.

  “I’ve been asleep for several days?” Tara spat remnants of meat from her mouth and glared at the man. “How dare you keep me from my children for that long!”

  “You were injured.” The man shrugged.

  “What about my children?” Tara raised her voice and felt the pain increase in her head. She felt too much outrage to care, but rubbed her hands over her face trying to understand what was happening. “Why are you holding me here?”

  “Your niece and children have been notified. They are fine.”

  The man’s calm made Tara want to smack him. “You haven’t answered why you are holding me here,” she said through clenched teeth. “And why did you keep me asleep for several days?”

  “I don’t run Semore by myself. The fate of all Neurians must be considered. It’s obviously no secret how your war has affected us. Northerners are very different…your beliefs, your priorities—”

  “And what do my beliefs and where I come from have to do with you holding me and keeping me from my family?”

  “We have a duty to the Neurian people to ensure their safety.” The man shrugged again.

  Tara slowly stood, testing her foot. She started to put weight on it, then stopped. While she probably could walk, she decided it might be best not to let him know that fact. She was also very aware of her laser in this man’s lap. “You seem to know more about me than I know about you. Who are you?”

  * * * * *

  The man’s dark eyes watched her slim figure as she hobbled a few feet away from the bed. He knew very little about Runners, other than they were supposed to be incredible warriors, and they had defeated the Sea People. She was beautiful, even in her current state. Those blue eyes…like the color of the sky…and that pale skin…she was quite the distraction. He’d never seen a woman like her before, other than in pictures.

  She limped slowly, but there was very little sign of discomfort on her face. He guessed even in her drugged state, she had enough training to prevent her expression from betraying emotion. His best approach would be to not second-guess anything about her, so he continued to watch her.

  He’d heard that she’d united two nations and could claim leadership over both. What power, what beauty! He wanted to know the type of person who could master such a feat. She would have to be intelligent, with negotiating skills and the ability to influence positively. Otherwise, people wouldn’t respond to her. And from the reading he had completed while she had been there, he realized not enough good things could be said about Tara.

  He was definitely attracted to her. But if his plan was to work, he had to remain true to the role he’d agreed to play.

  The council hadn’t accepted his ideas on how to handle Tara, at first. In fact, he’d been forced to keep most of the arrangements from the council. They knew she’d been taken hostage. He’d brought her to them after he’d shot her. But they didn’t know she was here, at his home. And they didn’t know how long he’d kept her here. The council wouldn’t have approved, but he knew he acted with the Neurians’ best interests at heart. His conscience was clear.

  He’d watched her as she lay under the covers, unconscious from the drugs. She became his sleeping beauty. There were nights when her presence haunted his dreams. He could have had sex with her, and she’d have never known. But that wasn’t his style. He liked his women able to enjoy his ability to please them. No, it would have been rape, so he hadn’t touched her—except in his dreams.

  It had all started when the Runner, Kuro, approached him.

  “You know there is a way to turn around the Neurian economy,” Kuro had told him one night after they had enjoyed a fair bit of the Sea People’s opiate wine. “And it would make you a hero.”

  “How’s that?” Gowsky had asked, although he thought his friend a bit too intoxicated to be taken seriously.

  “I grew up in a Runner clan known as the Blood Circle Clan,” Kuro told him. “Their leader, Patha, has a daughter, Tara. She’s a manipulative, hardhearted bitch, I’ll tell you that. They say she is his bastard child, but she managed to lie and cheat her way into becoming Patha’s heir. She’ll lead all the clans after Patha dies.”

  “And what does she have to do with the Neurian economy?” Gowsky had no idea why his friend was talking to him about this.

  “She charmed her way into the pants of the Lord of Gothman and gave him an heir.” Kuro had poured more wine and then leaned back in his chair. “This is where it gets good, my friend. Tara and her children have entered Semore. They are right here in town.”

  “You
are talking about the pale woman I saw yesterday?” Gowsky had been running errands when the young woman had driven her trailer into town. He had listened while she asked where she could keep her trailer, and then had offered gold as payment. The woman hadn’t impressed him as coldhearted and manipulative, and Gowsky thought of himself as a good judge of character.

  “She must be killed, Gowsky.”

  “Huh?” Gowsky choked on his wine. “Why does she have to be killed?”

  “Gothman and Runners need oil. Your land is floating with the stuff. But Tara won’t negotiate for it. Right now, she is probably devising a plan to take it without the Neurians knowing. That is how she is, my friend. But with her out of the way, the Neurians could sell the oil to a just Runner leader, themselves. And enjoy an economy better than they’ve ever known.”

  “And who would be the new leader?” Gowsky hadn’t liked the idea of murder, but reestablishing the Neurian economy was imperative.

  Kuro grinned. “Simple my friend. Me.”

  Gowsky pulled himself out of his reminiscing and focused on Tara. “I’m Dorn Gowsky,” he said to her. “How’s that foot?”

  * * * * *

  Tara glanced sideways at Gowsky. He watched her as if determining the answer for himself. That was something Darius often did. Guilt tugged at her. Noticing that this man was handsome was no crime, so why did she feel odd? She concentrated on his question in order to get her mind off him. “Your doctor’s done a fine job. Please thank him for me. I would like to check on my children. Am I free to go?” She knew the answer to this question before she even asked it, but she decided to play his game and met his gaze with an innocent smile.

  Gowsky smiled back. “Your children are fine. I would like to ask you some questions, if I may?”