Primal Nature

by Monique Singleton

  The scene was unfolding in the middle of the street. She could see people on both sideways hurrying away from the drama with their head down. She even saw soldiers watching the beating. No one intervened. Most were attempting to leave in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. The victim was bloody and screamed at every vicious kick.

  The camera zoomed in on the mercenaries. One was bald and Caucasian. His body, what was visible, was heavily tattooed. Another was a small and stringy dark-skinned man—probably Jamaican—with an intricate pattern of scars on the right side of his face. They looked to be deliberately inflicted. The third man was a blond white man she could not see well, he was turned away from the camera. The forth man was enormous—almost as wide as he was tall—with a long ponytail of jet-black hair. She judged him to probably be Samoan.

  She didn’t recognise any of them but continued to watch the stream.

  The men stopped beating the victim. Obviously bored. The Samoan spat at the whimpering and bleeding mess huddled in the street. Laughing they started to leave. At that moment, the blond turned his head. His piercing blue eyes looked directly into the camera.

  Her blood turned cold. She could feel the hairs on her back ripple and start to grow, her fingers wanted to warp.

  ‘Those eyes, he…’ Julio said softly, he was pale.

  ‘Has the General’s eyes.’ She finished the sentence. She could not take her gaze from the monitor.

  ‘Who is the General, and who is this man?’ Jesus demanded, looking from her to Julio.

  ‘The General was one of the people at the spa’ Julio explained. ‘He was in charge, responsible for our torture and the death of our companions.’

  ‘And why is this man looking for her?’ Jesus pointed. She looked up from the screen.

  ‘Because I killed the General’ her answer was soft, but in the silence it could have been as loud as a shout. ‘This is his son.’

  Jesus took control. ‘You have made yourself a dangerous enemy.’ He walked to the screen and froze the image. ‘Because you are here he is also our enemy. We must find out what we can about these men so that we can decide what to do about them.’ He turned to Alex, Julio’s son. ‘Find out what you can about this General and his family.’ Julio protested, but was silenced when Jesus added ‘use the Internet.’ Alex approached the computer and sat down behind the screen. Within seconds he was browsing the web, using the information supplied by his father.

  Tonal had retreated to the back of the war room. When nobody acknowledged her presence anymore she left the building. Jesus followed her. ‘Don’t leave the compound’ he ordered. ‘I won’t have you endangering us any more than necessary. You are here as Julio’s guest. Our sanctuary for you is because of him.’ She had no illusions about why she was tolerated or where their loyalty lay, so this was no revelation. She chose not to answer. ‘Don’t take me wrong’ he added. ‘We are indebted to you that you returned him to us. But we can’t risk our survival because you have angered the wrong people.’ It would serve no purpose to point out that saving Julio necessitated the killing or at least angering of the General and subsequently his clan.

  She nodded, turned around and walked back to her quarters.

  Later that day Alex reported on what he had found on the Internet.

  ‘The General is quite a high visibility person. Not just as a military man.’ He consulted his notes. ‘He started off as the son of a drunken sergeant and kind of fell into the military life naturally. I expect to escape from the old man. His Mother died under suspicious circumstances. Father was arrested, but never convicted, he finally died about ten years later. A domestic accident. Or at least that was according to the report.’ He took a breath. ‘The future General made quick promotion in the ranks, mostly because of his valour and recklessness. He led his troops into the biggest forays. Lots of casualties, but just as many medals.’

  The tale continued. The General’s career blossomed. He rose in the ranks and made a name for himself as a ruthless leader who got the job done. Finally, he reached his pinnacle. His lowly heritage slowing and ultimately stopping his climb to power. He didn’t fit in with the multiple-generation military families. Even though he managed to marry into one of the debutant new-money families, he never made it all the way to the real power. This aggravated him no end, and his name was connected to a number of “accidents” that seemed to plague the powers-that-be.

  In the meantime, he started his dynasty. Four legitimate sons and three daughters, along with more than ten illegitimate children that he more or less acknowledged, bringing them into the “family fold”. Not as equals, but in the inner circle none the less. The competition between his spawn was second only to their loyalty to the General. His wife tolerated the multiple mistresses and their bastards. Not that she had any choice. She was hospitalised frequently with her own in-house accidents.

  His daughters—with the exception of one who followed her brothers—married into wealthy and powerful families. His sons all followed their father into the army, often excelling in their loyalty and valour and on close inspection, also with their viciousness and outright sadism.

  The man in the stream was the General’s son Scott, he was the second child. He had one of the blackest souls in the family. He was retired from the military after an especially bloody mission deep in the unruly part of the capitol. Unofficially—in sealed records—he was named as the cause of seventy-six civilian deaths that could not be attributed to terrorism. One of the victims was the estranged daughter of the Governor, who was trying to make a difference by helping the poor. Here even the old man couldn’t intervene. He was dishonourably discharged from the military and became a blemish on his father’s record. Leaving the regular military, Scott unsuccessfully tried his hand at different careers, but finally re-found his calling in a semi-military environment—the mercenaries. He had been linked to a multitude of skirmishes and wars in many different countries. Occasionally freelancing for his father’s forays into the resistance territory.

  From a revolutionary point of view, getting rid of the General was a good thing. But the fallout that was to be expected from the General’s clan because of the loss of their patriarch, concerned the council.

  For the time being, Jesus resolved to do nothing about the mercenaries. Tonal would have to stay under wraps and they would count on the invisibility of the compound and the secrecy. Life continued as usual.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  I wanted to leave, I needed to.

  The compound was stifling me.

  Since the sighting of the mercenaries last week, I had been restricted to the small area—not allowed to leave the collection of buildings. The tension was building inside me again.

  I had tried to convince Julio that it was better that I left.

  Better for them and better for me. He would not hear of it, every time adamant that I was safest here, with the rest of them. But it wasn’t my safety that I was worried about.

  He dismissed my fears for the safety of the small community if the mercenaries were to find me here. ‘They will not find us or you’ Julio declared. Not accepting any other option.

  But what about the danger that I posed? To Julio, his family and everyone in the compound.

  I daren’t sleep at night but couldn’t keep myself awake. The fatigue overwhelmed me. The moment that I let myself drift off, my mind was immediately filled with nightmares of the lab.

  Every single night I relived that scene—the massacre.

  Only the scientists and soldiers didn’t die. They bled, their bodies ripped open and they should be dead, but they weren’t. They crowded around me screaming their accusations. Screaming that I was a monster and they were innocents. Shouting that I would keep on killing, keep on murdering, that I would not be able to stop myself.

  I felt they were right.

  The last few nights the recurring nightmare had become increasingly more frightening. In my dream I retaliated, slashing and biting everyone
around me. Some of the victims were new; people I encountered on a daily basis here in the compound. People that were alive. Only in the dreams they were ripped apart.

  I saw Julio, bleeding and stumbling away from me, feebly begging me to stop.

  I saw his wife Maria, with her throat clawed out.

  Jesus with the back of his head caved in from my fangs.

  This was all my work.

  I advanced on Julio, my claws slippery with blood.

  Alex ran over and tried to stop me, I turned on him and slashed at his young face, wounding his arm instead, because he threw it up in front of his face, trying to protect himself as he fell back.

  I jumped on him, my fangs near his pulsing throat.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  She woke up at that precise moment. Her muzzle two inches from Alex’s neck. She smelled the blood and looked into his surprised and frightened visage. Immediately she jumped back, stumbling over the bed she had just left. Alex’s arm was bleeding. He had cried out when she attacked him, and she could hear the rest of the inhabitants of the building rushing to the bedroom. The door flew further open, and a number of people—Julio and Maria among them—crowded into the small space. Maria instantly kneeled on the floor next to Alex.

  Julio took in the scene; his son on the floor bleeding from slashes on his arm, his friend in full human form, almost in a foetal position huddled in the corner—rocking back and forth. He sent the remaining family members and friends from the room.

  ‘Leave now’ his voice was commanding and everyone but Alex, Maria and himself left the scene. Julio checked to see that his son was all right. The wounds were bleeding but did not seem life threatening. Maria had already torn a strip off her nightgown to staunch the blood.

  Julio turned to the pathetic being huddled in the corner. He advanced slowly.

  ‘Tonal’ he said quietly. ‘Look at me.’ She continued to rock back and forth, softly keening, not reacting to his voice. He persevered, his hand outstretched to her. ‘Please Tonal, don’t do this to yourself. Alex is all right, he’s not badly hurt, he will be ok. You just scratched him, no more.’ His hand hovered above her form, slowly it descended and touched her shoulder. She was wet with sweat, but quivering. She didn’t react immediately. He kept his hand there.

  Slowly she raised her head. ‘Julio’ she whispered ‘I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to…’ her voice trailed off.

  He nodded. ‘I know Tonal, you would never intentionally hurt him.’

  ‘But I did’ her voice was breaking. ‘I nearly killed him, I would have if he hadn’t called out and woken me.’ She was crying.

  ‘But you didn’t kill him.’ Julio moved closer to her. He turned his head to his family. Willing Alex to say something. His son understood.

  ‘I’m ok,’ he said, sounding more convincing than he felt. ‘It’s nothing. It was my fault. I heard you scream and came to see what was wrong. I shouldn’t have touched you.’ He was surprised at his own reaction to what had very nearly been his demise. He wasn’t frightened or angry. Just surprised, amazed and sympathetic to this strange person he called his friend and whose image filled all his waking moments.

  She was regaining her composure. ‘Julio.’ A pause. ‘I have to leave… Now’ she pleaded. ‘Please don’t try to stop me. I have to go, get away from everyone.’

  ‘Tonal, you need people now, to help you’ he tried.

  She pulled away from him, angry that he should try to keep her—even after this.

  ‘I attacked your son Julio, what do I need to do to get you to let me go? Kill someone?’ She stood up off the floor and sat on the bed. ‘I have to go’ she repeated, her voice once again soft and barely audible. ‘It’s building up inside of me. The rage, the tension. Like in the lab. I need to let it out, and I can’t do that here. I dream every night. Dreams full of blood and killing. I see myself killing the scientists again, the General.’ The statement was difficult for her, and she looked at him. ‘And then you, I see myself killing you and your family, everyone here in the compound. I wake up with claws, blood in my mouth from where I bite myself.’ She opened her clenched hands, the fingers once again ending in the enormous claws. They receded back into her flesh, but the effort it took was obvious.

  ‘And now this’ she whispered. ‘Now I hurt Alex. Next time I will kill someone, what then Julio? How will you be able to live with that? How will I?’

  No one spoke. Julio sat down next to her on the bed. ‘Where will you go?’ he finally asked.

  ‘Into the jungle, far from here, far from any settlement’ she answered resolutely. ‘Somewhere where I can do no harm.’

  ‘I know such a place’ it was Alex who spoke. ‘There is a valley about fifty miles from here, in the jungle, I read about it on the Internet. But it is a dangerous place, no one wants to live there. There are rumours that it is haunted’

  She almost laughed. ‘Sounds perfect.’ Now it will also have a monster.

  ‘I will bring you there’ Alex continued. With help from Maria he stood up, cradling his wounded arm.

  Tonal looked at him, touched by his offer and his trust, even after what she had done.

  ‘No’ she answered ‘Thank you Alex, but I must go alone. Tell me where it is, and I will find it, or somewhere else where I can stay.’

  ‘Come Alex’ Maria supported her son and directed him towards the door. ‘Your arm needs care, possibly stitches.’ There was no anger or reproach in her statement. He let himself be steered out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.

  ‘How long will you be gone?’ Julio broke the silence. She looked at him, fascinated that this man could still bear to be near her. She had almost killed his only son. And still he trusted her.

  ‘I don’t know, as long as necessary.’

  She found herself pleading to Julio again ‘I need to get this under control. Or I can never trust myself near anyone again.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  She sighed ‘I have no idea’ she confessed. ‘See what happens. But I have to go, that much I do know.’

  Julio stood up and started collecting the few possessions that she had. ‘You will need the GPS’ he bustled ‘to be able to find us again.’ She walked over to him. Softly put her hand on his arm.

  ‘I won’t be taking anything with me.’

  He understood what she was telling him ‘You will change?’ it was not really a question.

  ‘I will make better time that way’ she explained. ‘And I feel I need to, to relieve the energy.’ He nodded.

  They moved into the small kitchen of the wooden building. Maria was tending to Alex’s wounds, stitching the three gashes—her medical knowledge gained from practice, not from a formal education. A revolutionary’s life had given her more than adequate experience in nursing.

  Alex explained where the valley was, his attempts to convince her that he should accompany her falling on deaf ears. She listened intently, memorising the directions.

  Once again, she apologised to Alex and Maria. They reassured her it was ok. She said her goodbyes.

  Julio walked with her to the edge of the compound. The moon was high in the sky, there would be another five hours of night at least. They embraced. Julio wanted to say something, but he found his throat constricted with emotion. Tears slid down his weathered cheeks. It felt as though he was losing one of his children.

  ‘Be well Tonal’ he managed. She nodded, turned and left. Her eyes were moist, and she felt as though a knife had been jammed in her chest. The only thing she could do was move away as quickly as possible. Pushing her way into the underbrush, she was soon swallowed up by the dense jungle.

  Julio stayed there, watching the space where she had disappeared. Hoping against hope, that she would change her mind and come back. He knew she wouldn’t. Knew it was the best decision.

  He would inform Jesus in the morning.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  After traveling the dense jungle for almost an hour, I came to
the first focal point that Alex had mentioned—a small waterfall.

  I took off my clothes, buried them in the undergrowth and in the pale moonlight I allowed the change to come over me.

  Immediately the tension fell away.

  The familiar pain of the change was welcome. It made me feel alive.

  Revelling in the change I threw my head back and roared at the moon.

  With that, I bounded off into the jungle, heading for the haunted valley.

  The trip south was a relief for me, the sounds and smells of the jungle refreshing and sweet. For the sheer joy of it I ran and jumped over fallen trees littering the jungle floor, chasing birds and small animals that scattered before me. The birds cried out angrily, warning all other jungle inhabitants that a predator was underway.

  I didn’t mind, actually enjoyed the ruckus I created. I wasn’t hunting, so stealth was not necessary. But when I did hunt, nothing was safe from my claws and fangs. I was the top predator in the jungle and relished the thought.

  Late one afternoon I reached a small cliff that jutted out of the jungle floor. The face rose up about fifteen metres at its highest point and tapered down to the jungle floor three-hundred metres to the right. The left side ended in a steep drop to the edge of a small river. A tiny clearing bordered the cliff, surrounded by the high trees and vegetation of the tropical jungle. It was a quiet place—peaceful. With the water close by and the cliff to protect my back, I decided this would be the place where I would stay—at least for a while.

  About six metres up the cliff I saw a cave. It was reasonably accessible, even if it would be a stretch for a human. In feline form I could get up there in two leaps. To the left, the cave was connected to a ledge that would offer a great vantage point to view the clearing and part of the jungle beyond till the vegetation got too dense even for me to be able to see anything.