The Turning (The Forsaken Series Book 2)

by Phil Price

  Lars smiled, his teeth showing through his whiskers. “Don’t worry Coop. No one will ever see him again.”

  Jake’s grip on the shotgun tightened at hearing the words. “I have no fight with you guys. So just leave me be.”

  Lars shook his bald pate. “We’re hungry. We need food.”

  “I have some food in my pack if you want it?”

  Lars shook his head again. “You will be our food,” he said, twirling the axe in his hand.

  Jake stood for a moment, trying to make sense of the statement. His head seemed to empty of all thoughts and words as he stood looking at the duo. “Y-you want to eat me?” Jake stammered.

  They both nodded their heads in agreement. “We are the Cravens. We eat anything,” Lars boomed. “We have many mouths to feed out there. You will give us strength. Your death will not be in vain.”

  Jake moved two steps to his right, his shotgun aimed at the two strangers. “Well I have no plans to be eaten by anyone. I’m here for my friend and to kill vampires if I can. We are not enemies. Let’s not start a fight here.”

  “There will be no fight. My axe will cleave you in two. Then we will eat you. You are not our enemy, nor our kin. Therefore, you are food.” Lars took two paces forward. Coop matched his steps.

  Jake lifted the shotgun higher. “Step the fuck back. Now! I will only ask once.” He waved the barrel of the shotgun. “You do not want to argue with this.”

  Lars looked curiously at the weapon. “What does it do?”

  “This,” Jake said, firing at the door next to Coop. The man and boy fell backwards as a hole appeared in the wood the size of a plate. The noise was deafening in the confines of the house. Jake’s ears were ringing for a full minute as he kept his eye on the two strangers. They looked at him, eyes and mouths wide open. “There is nothing but trouble for you here. Leave me be.” The back door burst open, sending the chair smashing into the wall. Jake instinctively turned in one fluid motion as a man appeared behind him. He was large, dressed in dark fur. He held a small axe in his hand that was beginning its arc towards his head. He was less than six feet away from him as Jake squeezed the trigger. Lars and Coop watched in frozen amazement as their kin member’s head vanished from his shoulders. Jake moved to one side as the momentum took his attacker past him, landing flat on his back on the wooden floor. Within the blink of an eye his shotgun was levelled back at the two intruders. He pumped the barrel, ejecting a red shell casing onto the floor as Lars and Coop looked at the body on the ground. A pool of red blood was spilling from the neck, coating the floor in red. Bits of skull and hair were still attached to the neck, making Coop feel nauseous.

  Lars was unmoved. He knew however that the man in front of him was dangerous. And he was full of tricks. He looked him in the eye. “He was one of my kin. I knew him all my life.”

  “He was going to kill me,” Jake said bluntly.

  “Yes he was.”

  Jake needed to resolve the situation quickly. If he used the shotgun again he would need to reload. His handgun was loaded and would get him out of a tight spot, but he didn’t know how many were outside waiting for him. “I mean you no harm,” Jake said. “But it’s your call. You can either walk away now, or I will kill all of you if you want to fight. You’ve seen what I can do with this.” He motioned with his shotgun.

  Lars and Coop stood staring, contemplating Jake’s offer. Lars nodded. “We will leave this place. I only hope we never meet again outlander. For your sake or mine.” The man and boy walked backwards out of the doorway into the night. Jake kept his shotgun levelled, not trusting their word. He moved over to the wall where his bike was, standing flat against the wood, giving himself a good field of vision in case of another attack. He heard Lars issuing instructions to unseen people. Jake relaxed slightly, his pulse and breathing coming back under control. He’d just killed a man. He’d never done that before. He’d killed vampires, but never a man. He looked down at the corpse, trying to get a handle on how he felt. It was either him or me. I don’t feel guilty about it, he thought. The sound of activity outside gradually dwindled to nothing as Jake pushed himself from the wall. He skirted the corpse, setting his shotgun down on the table. He began placing his things into his pack, trying not to stare at the brain and blood that had littered the room. As he packed his shotgun away, Jake noticed a smell. It took him a few seconds to realise what it was.

  “Smoke!” He clipped his pack shut and looked out of the window. It was a dark blanket out there. Nothing could be seen. Jake pondered taking a look around the house when he noticed smoke creeping across the floor from the back door. He walked over to the rear hallway, alarmed when he saw smoke spilling in through the back door. He was about to turn around when a pair of strong hands slammed him into the wall. His vision exploded into a thousand stars as his face crashed into the wood. He could smell the attacker’s fetid stench. It was more overpowering than the smoke. A sharp blow to his kidneys made Jake wince as he tried to turn around and face the unseen foe. He slumped slightly, making his attacker think he was finished. A guttural laugh behind him told Jake he was right. Rough hands grabbed at his collar, trying to pull him into the main room. Jake span around, taking the man by surprise. He used his arms as leverage to send the man into the wall. The grip on his collar loosened as the man’s face connected with wooden planks. Jake heard him grunt in pain. He looked at his face. The man wasn’t either of the two he’d just encountered, but he was dressed the same. They are not done with me, he thought as he punched the man square in the face. He went down hard, landing on his back. Even in the smoky darkness, Jake could see the man’s eyes roll back in his skull. Jake quickly headed back into the lounge. He was greeted by two men with axes, smiling at him. Both were big, with blackened teeth and beards that ran down their chests. They advanced on him, axes poised to cleave him into chunks. He reacted without thinking, pulling the Glock from its holster. The men’s expressions changed from smug to uncertain as Jake levelled the barrel at them. He had no time to think. He fired off two double taps, hitting both men in their chests. They fell sideways away from the door as the window next to the table shattered inwards, a ball of flame crashing into the room.

  “JESUS,” Jake shouted as the flaming mass landed on the headless corpse, quickly igniting the furs. Jake pulled his pack onto his back, clipping it in place. He put his helmet on quickly as Coop barged his way into the room, his spear held out in front of him. Jake didn’t want to kill the boy. Aside from his spear he looked harmless. Like any regular teenager.

  “YOU’RE MINE,” screamed Coop, advancing on Jake, his spear tip slashing the air menacingly. Shit, Jake thought as he pulled his handgun from its holster. He fired at Coop, the bullet grazing his flank. He fell backwards into the door, clutching his ribs as more flaming balls crashed through the window and doorways.

  “I’ve got to get away from here,” Jake said as the former Bathurst residence quickly became a raging pyre.

  ☨☨☨

  Eddie and Karaa watched the action unfold from high up in the forest. They saw the two men enter and then leave a few minutes later. Their keen eyes watched, fascinated as the group of humans gathered in the forest and started to light fires. One headed around the rear of the big house, dropping a flaming torch near the back door. The shadowy figure lurked close by before entering the back door in a rush. Eddie and Karaa could make out the noises of a struggle somewhere inside.

  “They are going to kill him,” Eddie said. “It looks like we won’t have to worry about Jake anymore.” She looked at Eddie before turning her eyes down towards the village as more humans started to hurl flaming balls at the house. Two men ran carrying axes ran into the house. Something stirred in Karaa’s memory. Something just out of reach. Four loud pops could be heard as a boy holding a spear entered the house. Again, her memory tried to make itself known to Karaa. They boy looked familiar to her, but she could not say from where. Another shot rang out in the night that made Karaa flinch. The h
ouse was burning on all sides now as more fire was thrown by the humans that surrounded it. Eddie turned to Karaa. “He’s done for. Let us get back to the Vale to wait for Elias to return.” Karaa nodded as Eddie jumped down from the tree, landing silently in the forest. She followed suit, barely a rustle was made as her feet hit the floor. They scooted off east, hand in hand as the flames from the house continued to light up the forest.

  ☨☨☨

  Lars could feel the heat from the flames. He started to sweat as he stood poised to enter the burning building. A loud bang told him that Coop may have been hurt. He was about to storm the front door when he heard a noise. It sounded like a roar as he strained to listen. He could wait no longer as he strode towards the flames. As he reached the front porch he dived for cover, Jake flying past him on his steel beast. Lars rolled on the grass, coming up to see him disappear into the darkness to the east, a loud roar following him. Coop staggered out after him, holding his side.

  Lars went to him. “You’re hurt. Show me.”

  Coop pulled his top off to reveal a small wound on his flank. “It’s not bad. I think I was lucky. The two who went in before me are dead. What was that thing that he fled on?”

  Lars looked to the east. “No idea. Some kind of magic I’ve not seen before. At least we know one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That the outlander might be better as an ally than as an enemy.”

  ☨☨☨

  Jake gunned the throttle as the tyres squealed on the boards beneath him. He shot out of the flaming house, the bike landing smoothly on the grass. His vision was focused ahead. Towards the roadway that wound its way out of the forest towards the east. He paid no attention to any of his attackers. He was hoping that the element of surprise would be enough. He was lucky. His attackers stared, mouths wide open as the strange contraption sped away from them. As he found the dirt track he let the bike roll along at a steady thirty miles per hour. He had no clue as to where he was going. Just away from the forest would be a start. Ten minutes later he spotted the lonely mountain, standing proud in the darkness. He coasted to a stop, weighing up his options. He checked his watch. It was still several hours before the sun made an appearance over the eastern ridge. He felt exposed out here in the open. Culnae, he thought. I can head there and stay with Mungo. He remembered the direction. It was not difficult. East towards the far-off ridge. The land was scant of features. Even in the dark, the tiny collection of buildings that made up Culnae should be easy enough for him to spot. He pointed his bike away from the mountain and began the second part of his escape.

  ☨☨☨

  Far to the east, Culnae lay quiet. A few torches adorned the haphazard collection of wooden structures. At the centre, Mungo’s Lodge was situated. Lanterns hung around the porch, giving the lodge a warm, inviting feel. A few late revellers still propped up the bar in the main saloon. Mungo, the proprietor, sat in the corner of the room. A large metal tankard was at his left hand. A leather-bound book lay splayed in the centre of the desk. In his meaty yellowed right hand he held his quill. A small ink pot was set into the desk, although the quill was dry now. He’d filled in his ledger. And he was happy. He was fully booked for the next season. After that the elk hunt would begin. His safe would be filling up with silver and gold coins at a steady rate. Life was treating Mungo well. The last few months had settled down after all the action of the previous seasons. Vampires and outlanders had come knocking at Mungo’s Lodge. He’d seen plenty of action when the young man Jake had arrived. He smiled fondly, remembering the first time he’d met him out in the long grass. Mungo’s barb had been aimed at his chest until he’d taken his steel hat off. Mungo remembered what a good looking young man Jake was. There was no evil in him. That was the truth. Over the next few weeks, Mungo had been thrust into action he’d never thought possible. He’d killed vampires, travelled for the far-off forests past the mountain. Seen doorways to other worlds. His head had span for the few nights after Wilf had bid him farewell. He’d lay in his corner bed, thinking about all the worlds out there. He tried to imagine Jake’s world. With its fast beasts and magic. He’d give anything to be able to see it for himself one day. Maybe he would. Maybe he’d take some time off after the hunt and take a trip into the endless forest to the west. His thoughts were interrupted by a small elderly man who approached. He was wearing a brown leather smock. His grey hair was wispy and wild, like his eyes. His gummy mouth was wrinkled like an old drawstring purse.

  Mungo smiled. “What’s up Bertie?”

  “A light approaching from the west. Coming fast.”

  Mungo’s smile faded at the news. He stood up and followed the aged man out of the saloon into the crisp night air. A light could be seen heading their way. “What do you think Bertie?” Mungo asked, curiously watching the approaching light. A noise could now be heard as the light drew closer. It got louder and louder as the light grew.

  “Not sure. Be ready though.” Both men slipped their slingshots into place, fishing pointed barbs from their pockets as they walked to the sturdy gates. The compound consisted of a circular wall, five times the height of a man. The wooden beams were adorned with spikes and brambles that warned off any potential attackers. In all the years since it was constructed it had never been breached.

  “Bertie. The bolt,” Mungo said as the bike came within range of their sling shots. The little man pushed a wooden beam as thick as his leg across the gates until it clicked into place in the wall. He opened the one gate far enough for them to slip through, out into the grasslands that surrounded Culnae. Both men walked loose, their limbs swinging freely in case they needed to move quickly. They saw the oncoming light and noise.

  Mungo smiled as the bike slowed to a standstill. “Jake. Is that you?” Mungo said, walking towards the light. Jake removed helmet.

  “Hello again Mungo. Hi Bertie,” Jake said as he stood the bike on its stand.

  “Hail Jake!” Mungo shouted, rushing over and embracing the younger man.

  “Good to see you Mungo. But I need your help.”

  Mungo’s smile waned slightly. “What’s wrong? Are you in trouble? Are Wilf and Katherine safe?”

  “Katherine is fine. Not seen Wilf for a long while. I have a feeling he is okay though.”

  “They are out by the sea. I helped them move out a few seasons back. Not seen them for a while either.”

  Jake exhaled, smiling as he did so. “That’s good to hear. I hope they are safe and well.” I far off rumble of thunder made the three men look towards the lone mountain to the south.

  Jake turned to Mungo. “Can we talk inside?”

  The man with the Asiatic features nodded readily. “Come. Bertie. Put Jake’s steel horse somewhere safe.” Bertie walked over to the bike as Jake and Mungo made their way into the saloon. The few stragglers paid them no attention as they headed over to a table in the corner of the room. They sat down on wooden chairs as a man approached. Mungo looked up at the weathered waiter. “Bring over a few jugs of beer. What food is left Bart?”

  The waiter pondered for a moment. “We ‘ave some cold cuts of meat and some bread. I’ll slather some elk gland sauce on the bread to make it more interestin’ for you. Sound good?”

  “Perfect. Thank you, old man.”

  “Less of the old,” Bart said as he walked off picking his ear with his pencil.

  “So, what news Jake?” Jake relayed the last few months to Mungo. From the moment when he and Katherine escaped Elias, through the doorway to his world. Tears rolled down the round yellow face of Mungo when he heard about the birth of Alicia. Bart had brought over the drinks, filling two mugs with a pale, heady ale. They clinked glasses as Jake told of his daughter’s birth. “Good health to your family Jake. Great news!” Jake raised his mug and took a swig of ale. He was starting to feel relaxed. Bart appeared once more and placed a large wooden platter on the table, heading back to the kitchen with his pencil in his other ear. The two men fell on the platter, a serie
s of hearty grunts of appreciation were issued back and forth.

  “God. This is good,” Jake said in between mouthfuls.

  Mungo nodded, wiping a hand across his mouth, looking at the younger man. “So, what else has been happening? It can’t be all good news, or you’d not be sat at my table.”

  Jake took another swig of ale, thanking Mungo with a nod when he refilled his mug. “Things have started happening recently. A friend sent me two buttons. Buttons that belonged to one of Korgan’s vampires. As soon as I took them into my home, bad things started happening. We think that Elias has found us. My mother vanished. We never found her. We think she was swept out to sea. We’ve accepted that she is dead.”

  “I give you my sorrow Jake. That is troubling news.”

  “There is more. A family friend, a shaman who helped me at the time I was bitten. He was also visited. Before that he went to Amatoll forest out of curiosity. He met one of the vampires there, Eddie. They fought. Father Stephen managed to fight him off. But a few weeks later, Father Stephen found his wife dead at his home. He thinks that Eddie murdered her. He came back through the doorway two nights ago, looking for revenge.”

  “Fuckenell,” Mungo said, clearly alarmed. “Did you find him?”

  “No. I went straight to Heronveld, hoping that he was staying there. He wasn’t. I did however meet a group of strange people who wanted to kill and eat me.”

  Mungo spat his ale across the table, drawing a few glances from the other patrons. “They wanted to eat you?” Jake nodded. “Fuckenell. That sounds like the Cravens of Mantz.”

  “They mentioned that name. The Cravens. What is Mantz?”

  Mungo put his mug down on the table, a sweaty sheen appearing on his head. “It’s a forest way off towards the western sea. It’s twice the size of Amatoll, maybe even larger. A clan called the Cravens rule there. They eat anything that crosses their path. I’ve never been that far west. But I’ve heard stories from travellers and traders who have. The forest is so dense, no sun can get in. It’s a dark evil place. A place only a fool would dare to explore. I don’t know why they would be in Amatoll though. Jake, this is also troubling news. I only hope they don’t head this way. I don’t think we could keep them out of Culnae. Where do you think your friend is?”