“And only you ever walk out.”
“My people are all I have.”
Clarity felt her eyes prick with unshed tears. There were thousands of tattoos. All flowing in beautiful designs. The best of the humans was etched on his soul. When she glanced up at Doom she watched as a single tear trailed down his cheek. Clarity placed her hand on his arm. She was gazing into the face of defeat.
“It’s time to take you and your people out of the killing field of the dark ages.”
Chapter Five
“At one time the ashes of our dead were so deep we trudged through them. The hybrids killed for sport, leaving bodies where they dropped for disease. Other animals feasted on my kind’s flesh and so we burned the dead. Once an animal gets a taste for a certain meat it can become their favorite. We killed off many dinosaur species, because we were always hunted. It was easier to kill the animals. The killing of our own had to stop. Women refused to give birth until they were no longer able. Mental or physical condition we don’t know. Maybe they’re simply too old now.”
Clarity lay beside Doom in bed, having no other option. There were furs she could have tossed on the floor to curl up in but she wanted to talk. Doom left his short pants on but removed his belt. His tone was desolate as he spoke. They lay side by side, a fur between them and another covering them. Her day was long and stressful to begin with, it appeared night wouldn’t be any better. The image he painted shimmered her groggy sleep into induced nightmares. She could hear the drone of his voice as he invaded her mind. A young boy, long black flowing hair walked hand in hand with a massive man. Clarity looked up seeing both man and child through her eyes and the boy’s.
She thought for a moment the man was Doom but not one tattoo adorned his body. Looking down, she saw they were ankle deep in ash. Clarity knew it was the ash of their people. A frightened woman raced to the pair where she flung herself against the man who caught her.
“Where? Where do we go from here? Our home is gone. Again we’re being chased into the unknown where stranger beasts live.”
The man ran a shaky hand down her long white hair. “I don’t know, my love. Our tribe is almost gone. Our men are depleted to skin and bone; our hair is gone. Our women waste away, their hair gone or white as snow. No children since Doom have been born. The hybrids have almost destroyed us.”
“We should have had a girl and named her Hope,” was the woman’s bitter reply.
The man cupped her face between her palms. “No, my love, her name would have been Destiny.” He turned her in his arms, locking her in his embrace. “Look around. There is our destiny.”
Sheets of ash dripped from tree branches, oozing its way to the ground in plops. Languishing amidst the rotted foliage. Their village was a killing field. Nothing looked familiar to Clarity. The smoke spiraled from the ground and she inhaled its rancid odor.
“Take a good look, my son. This is why you were named Doom. The last born of our kind. I saw it in a vision. True as clarity. Because there is nothing clearer than this.”
The smell of dankness hovered. The scent of despair. A grayness was in the air, steaming from the ground.
“The ashes of the ones who have nothing left to give litter the ground. We walk on our fathers and mothers, our sisters and brothers, cousins, aunts and uncles. Every relative we had is gone. Once we are gone, the hybrids will have nothing left except the dinosaurs. Their race will inherit this earth. Like other races before us, the hybrids have almost annihilated everyone.”
The villagers went into hiding, but the hybrids were relentless. Bloodlust ran too high. The only way to appease them was to ask for any willing to sacrifice themselves so others could live. The occasional villager appeased the hybrids and kept them from hunting everyone. Doom’s father knew the people were being toyed with; their demise was simply a matter of time. The hybrids were in a game of annihilation. The leader kept the others as safe as possible until one day there was a choice. Doom’s father gave his life for his son.
Clarity saw Doom’s vision through his words as dreams of his reality flooded her thoughts. After Doom’s father was taken, a known warrior for his people, the hybrids became a systematic breed. For a time, Doom and his people were left alone. A feeling nagged at Clarity’s guts. The hybrids were after something of importance. Doom’s father may have been the first to change the thinking process, until the slaughter began with renewed vigor. The hybrids approached Doom after a last attack on the leaders.
She could envision the single human female who had stayed with Doom, trying to help. He had been so young, so few of his people were left, living hand to mouth as nomads, collecting the stragglers. The human woman made a stand; she taught them to use the materials around them. She taught Doom and his people how to think. Alice gave them new ideas to expand their minds. There was hope, until she was taken.
DaV-nin appeared not long after and demanded the exchange of humans for the tribe’s life. There were so few people left, all battered and broken, to refuse would be death. Clarity wanted the images he painted to stop the assault on her mind, but she couldn’t wake. Doom’s father made him promise that until he could stop the hybrids from killing, there would be no more of his people to sacrifice.
Doom kept the promise but it came with a price. None even knew if more humans could be found, but they were. Soon after, Doom began finding more humans, keeping them safe until the time of reckoning. Sadness consumed him. Handing over innocents hurt his entire being. The pain was unbearable and he couldn’t make it stop; he needed some way to make his actions right.
After the first sacrifice, a strange thing happened to Doom as he stumbled into a dark cave. A place to hide his tears, a place where he didn’t need to look at his stricken features. A place where he screamed his frustration, begging aloud for damnation and salvation. The cave was dark, but Clarity saw his agony in her thoughts. Doom was consumed with self-loathing. A tug to his skin began, then another. He sat on a rock where he felt the pinpricks, wondering if an animal was consuming him as the pain increased. For a long while he didn’t move, even after the sensation stopped. His breath ragged, he struggled to his feet knowing he had to face his people.
Pausing only moments to wipe his face with water, he gazed into the pond at his exposed flesh. Images were on his body. Doom wiped at them but they wouldn’t come off. Realization struck a blow to his guts. He was gifted, guilted, with the protection of human souls tattooed onto his body. There was no explanation. Only acceptance of a great responsibility and a small sense of relief that he hadn’t really lost them. And after a time, he came to learn such was the fate of each leader, to bear the mark of their kills.
Doom rolled toward Clarity, the fur between them. He gripped the fur and pulled it away. Clarity was awake instantly, or maybe it was her mind that had slipped into thought. Her heart thundering, she was soon settled into his embrace. Doom did nothing more than hold her. The images lingered, the smells, the clarity. His pain was in her soul.
“How old are you?” Clarity whispered.
“I don’t know. My parents died long ago. The foliage once more turned lush in the places villagers were killed. The land returned to its former state. The animals breathed easier. One single woman saved us and damned us. She unknowingly killed her own kind. My people live in agony. We are a peaceful people if left alone, warriors only to defend. The hybrids made us killers. She couldn’t have known; none of us did.”
“Did you love her?”
“I was too young for Alice, but yes I loved her in my own special way. We all did.”
His breathing slowed and Clarity knew he slept. For her, sleep remained elusive as her mind began some detective work. She knew a human would problem solve. If the hybrids were given the ability to problem solve, they would be wondering at their best recourse. By destroying their own hybrid female offspring, it gave the males a chance to have smarter children by only being with humans. It stood to reason a human male would never copulate with a hybrid. A human female co
uld be forced, but Clarity didn’t think that was the case. Something was missing. What that was remained to be seen.
After his father was taken, the hybrids changed the way they thought, like a warrior would think. Then again, when Alice was taken. An icy finger slid down her spine. What were these creatures doing and what were they after? It was high time someone found out.
****
Clarity wasn’t in bed when Doom woke. He wasn’t concerned. The beasts that kept the other dinosaurs at bay wouldn’t allow her to leave. She would be too afraid of them not to heed a warning snarl. Leisurely, he washed his face and rinsed his mouth. Clarity seemed surprised when last night he brushed his teeth. He and his people weren’t primitives. They knew the importance of cleanliness. It’s why they slaved to bring the underground water source to each home.
Doom was informed by other humans their plumbing was crude but effective. Over time, humans aided in bringing greater luxuries. It wasn’t as though he and his people weren’t intelligent—they were different. When running from dangers was paramount, that was the focus. Running water wasn’t even a close second. Simply existing was tiring on his planet. Ideas were fine as long as raptors weren’t attacking.
Humans had so many ideas Doom was surprised they could keep up. For a moment, Doom wondered again if mating a human and keeping the child a secret would advance his people. Then he realized his kind and the hybrids developed differently. Doom and his people could learn if taught, but they needed teachers. The hybrids advanced simply from having humans. But did they mate with them? The idea was disturbing and not something he wanted to consider. He wondered if it was the dinosaur DNA always striving over the millennia to produce smarter and stronger offspring. Whatever they did with the humans, the hybrids were advancing.
At a bang on his door, Doom went to open it. Menace stood there, his normal scowl plastered to his face. He held a tray loaded with food in one hand, his bloodied spear in the other. A fresh kill. Doom sighed, wishing it were as easy to kill the hybrids. Their flesh seemed impenetrable. A thrown spear was useless, and by the time any villagers could get close enough to stab a spear into a hybrid with more power, they were sliced to pieces.
The man was a warrior, volatile from the time the first human appeared until she was gone. For precisely a month Menace relaxed, pretending life was normal. Once the first human arrived, he made it his mission to kill prey. His reprieve hadn’t been long enough. The meat looked shredded. So did Menace. The gaze in his haggard angry glare was always the same. No man should ever lose everything and everyone to tragedy.
“Thank you, Menace. I’m surprised Aba didn’t bring the meal.”
“She’s busy with her new son. The boy’s insisting they help find paper so he can make planes. I know the humans speak of flying machines but it appears his father was an actual peelot.”
“I believe the term is pilot.”
Menace looked past him. “Where’s the female?”
“Outside roaming the village I guess.”
“You guess?”
“She can’t go anywhere.”
“You better make certain. I noticed one of the bulwarks are gone. I guessed she was hunting, but you better be sure.”
“You worry like an old woman.”
“If I was smart I’d take the female and run like shit to a place the hybrids can’t find us. I’d have a hundred children and form an army and fight.”
“We are outnumbered.”
“We only need better weapons. We need a male human with battle smarts. The female is small and defenseless. At least she seems healthy.”
Doom sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for this conversation. A wry smile tugged at his lips. “Defenseless my ass. I’d like to see you get past her mace and purse of tortures. “
Chuckling at Menace’s confused expression, Doom set the tray on the table. He grabbed his spear and followed Menace out. The village was alive with work. He could hear Ada’s pleas of ‘stop that’ and ‘come down’. The human boy had his arms spread wide standing on top of a home. If he jumped, the fall wouldn’t kill him but he might be injured. Before Doom could react, the impulsive boy leapt into the air. Menace was already on the move and captured him in his arms while Ada swooned.
“You see,” the boy said. “You do it like that.”
Menace lifted the boy under his arms dangling him in the air. “If you’re going to jump make sure you have a soft bed of grass to land on.”
“Good idea, Captain,” the boy said, and made an odd gesture with an open hand near his forehead.
“Captain?” Menace glanced at Doom who shrugged.
Menace set the child on his feet where he raced away into the tall grass. Doom glanced around. Every person was engaged in different chores, the necessity of community effort. In the evening, the villagers gathered in a huge underground hall to talk, eat, and swap stories. If there was a recent kill, the stews would be bubbling already. The boy’s arrival would be celebrated. So would Clarity’s. The boy would be welcomed into their lives; the woman would be welcome for a different reason. Her life spared the life of one of his people. In fact, her life spared Doom’s. After, any other humans who came would be given to the person whose life they would spare. Humans were guarded closely.
The village wasn’t huge. Mostly everything was built underground, but the perimeters were watched. There was nowhere a hybrid or any animal could lay in wait while everything was open concept. Menace was right, only three of the bulwarks were present. The two males were tussling. Clarity was nowhere to be seen. Doom scratched his head. He wondered if she befriended someone already and was in having a warm morning drink. He had noticed her purse was gone; he hoped to find everyone on their feet.
“Ada have you seen the human female?” Doom asked.
Ada, white hair askew, winded, and sweaty from running after her new son, stopped for a moment.
“You had to find me the child with no off switch,” she complained. Doom chuckled at her Earth human reference. “I swear I lose a few pounds when he opens his mouth. He rambles on and on. I have to race to keep up with his words. Damn, there he goes again.”
Doom watched as the boy jumped from another home, into Menace’s arms. Menace directed the child to find more grass.
“He thinks he’s a blasted bird. I swear when he sleeps I’ll check him for feathers.”
“Ada, the female?”
“What? Oh, no, can’t say I’ve seen her. I can’t take my eyes off the boy.”
“We can name him tonight. That is if you want to keep him,” Doom said.
“Well, of course I want him. Look over there. Old Nada is eyeing him like a prize treat. That woman would steal him in a heartbeat. My Edge is thinking on names.”
Ada went running off when the boy started further into the brush. He was still small enough to be carried away by a bird. Menace was watching with a spear. If any bird came close they would be eating fowl for dinner. Menace claimed he would sacrifice himself over a human, but they needed the powerful warrior. And only a human could die in another’s place. His sacrifice would be for nothing. Doom’s position was no different and without him his people would fall.
Doom continued to search for Clarity until it became frighteningly clear she was gone. The woods were dangerous anytime but after a gathering frenzy of the humans, blood lust ran high in other animals. He wouldn’t risk any of his people. Alone, he entered the danger zone.
“Clarity,” he boomed.
Further into the foliage he traipsed, his heart falling at each passing moment. No doubt she was dead. At a scuffle, he ran to a small clearing. The female bulwark was fighting with a raptor. The furry, feathered raptors traveled in pairs and Doom cast his glance around wondering if the dinosaur’s mate was making a meal of Clarity. To his dismay and surprise Clarity was in a pond up to her waist holding her small weapon she claimed was frightening.
The beast was flailing, screaming, and instead of moving away, Clarity moved closer and
rammed a white piece of cotton past its razor teeth and down its throat. She leapt away, tossing the weapon to dry land and kicked water into its face for all she was worth. Doom bellowed and jumped in after her. He grabbed her into his arms and yanked her out of the water.
The raptor clawed at his throat. The bulwark’s long two front fangs ripped into the underbelly of the other raptor on land. Both creatures died. Clarity was snarling.
“Ha, you ugly bastard,” she yelled, waving a fist. “Choke on that.” She turned to gaze up at Doom who was surprised as hell. “Tampons, the necessary evil you love to hate. Extra absorbent.”
Doom didn’t know whether to hug her, shake her, or laugh. “How the hell did you get out of the village?”
“I used a neat method, called my feet.”
Now he wanted to shake her. “I mean how did you get this bulwark to allow you past her and to follow you?”
Clarity sloshed back into the water to rip out strange barbs from the raptor with an odd-looking pair of pinchers. She then fiddled with her weapon and stuck it into a satchel at her hip. Doom eyed the satchel warily.
“It wasn’t hard.”
“In all the time we’ve had humans, no one has ever gotten past any of the animals guarding the village.”
“I’m guessing none of them had a Mars bar. You’d be surprised what a female will do for chocolate.”
Clarity went to the beast and ruffled her fur, crooning to her. “Thank you, Muffin.”
“Muffin?”
“Well, she kinda looks like a muffin, all brown and round and cute. Poofy, but poofy would be a silly name.”
“Why did you leave the village? It’s too dangerous out here.”
“You said you’d take me out, but you were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you. You drool in your sleep.”
“I do not,” he bellowed.
“Yeah, you do. It’s pretty gross, too.”
She began walking toward the village with the bulwark following her. Her sodden feet clomped; her clothes dripped but started to dry already in a warm breeze. The beast nudged her and she rose on her toes to drape an arm around her neck. The pair rested their heads together for a moment. If Doom didn’t know better, he would swear the beast loved her. The beast growled as the foliage ahead ruffled, but settled when a herbivore came into view. Clarity squealed in delight.
Clarity's Doom (Ancient Origins Book 1) Page 8