Humanity's Protectors: An Influence Series Origin Novella

by David R. Bernstein

  His hand still remains on my shoulder. Even though it makes me uneasy, his touch doesn’t feel like the grip of a ruthless hunter. It’s gentle, somehow kind.

  “Wouldn’t you do anything you could to protect your family?” he asks. “You don’t know anything about me, Amanda.”

  She edges closer to Farren and says, “It was sector groups like yours who destroyed my home and killed my family. Why should we trust you?”

  “I’m sorry about that, but my job has nothing to do with either of you.” His hand leaves my shoulder. “I have a job to do. If I don’t do it, they will come into Lost Souls and hurt my family. Again, it’s that simple.”

  “Look, it’s getting dark and we have to stay together if we want to make it to Bullhead, so let’s put all that behind us,” I say, shooting Amanda one of my own looks.

  Several minutes pass with no one saying a word. Only the setting sun reflecting on a few wispy clouds on the horizon remains. Luckily for us, the moon gives off some faint and cool light that helps guide our steps as we travel. My mind jumps from what I’ve gotten us into, to how our chances of making it to Bullhead become worse with every passing minute.

  The silence is broken as I stumble on a rock, letting out an awkward screech.

  “Stupid darkness!” I shout, blood flushing my cheeks. Luckily, this same darkness hides my embarrassment from sight.

  Farren offers me a hand. “Are you alright, Kaylin?”

  I don’t accept his help, pushing myself off the ground on my own.

  “Thanks, I’m fine.” I force out a smile.

  Once we’re moving again, my curiosity gets the best of me. Though I know I should not be making an effort to learn more, I can’t help myself.

  “So, Farren…” I tug at my ponytail to tighten the band, “have you recruited anyone against their will?”

  His head jerks up. “That’s not who I am,” he says. “I find people who are looking for something new and have the certain ability Magnus wants. I don’t hide what I do.”

  “A certain ability, huh?” I will probably regret what I say next. “You mean Influencers who get used to manipulate people?”

  He stiffens and his mouth cracks open in surprise. I don’t think he was expecting me to know so much about Influencers. Amanda steps in to cover my careless mistake.

  “If it wasn’t for those recruited Influencers I would still have my home and family,” Amanda says, the words laced with venom.

  “Not everyone hates Magnus,” he says. “Some people are simply starving and want a more stable life. One of the few good things about sector groups, like Magnus, is they do provide for their citizens and to some, ignorance is bliss. I’m not saying that’s right, but desperation makes people do things.”

  To me, there is nothing a sector group can provide other than corruption, control, and fear. Why anyone would be willing to fall into the manipulative fold of one of these groups is beyond me.

  “Ignorance is NOT bliss when your family is killed by these evil groups,” Amanda says, walking a few steps ahead.

  “Why don’t you just pretend to not find anyone when you go out on these recruiting missions?” I suggest. “You could pretend to be bad at it.”

  “I wish it was that simple, but they forced me to join them for a reason.” He adjusts his pack. “I was trained by my father to be a tracker since I was seven. Our family became well known in the area because of the abundance of wild game we bring home. The Magnus Order has a way of finding people with desirable skillsets.”

  He opens one of the metallic buttons on his shirt. It shimmers in the moonlight as his fingers free it from its proper position. “Two years ago, right before my sixteenth birthday, they forced me to join them. Because of my talents, they set benchmarks for my so-called hunting. If I go too long without bringing in some new recruits, they’ll take it out on my family.”

  The nearly full moon overhead is all the light that now remains. The only sounds we hear are our footsteps and heavy breathing as we push on through. We estimate we have less than an hour to go before we see the dim lights from the town of Bullhead. The temperature has dropped quite a bit and we are able to move faster now.

  “So what’s your story, Kaylin? Do you have family close?”

  “Amanda is all I have,” I say, watching her kick rocks several yards in front of us.

  “Can I ask what happened to your family?”

  I can see in his face that he is genuinely interested. His eyes have a way of gently squinting when he concentrates on me. It’s like he’s trying to fix a problem that he doesn’t fully understand.

  “There really isn’t much to tell,” I say, shrugging. “I was told that someone dropped me off at a shelter door when I was just three.”

  I exclude the part about the necklace that I had wrapped around my waist at the time. Only Amanda and my initial shelter caregiver know about this. And Lilly, who took care of me for a little over a year but died before I turned five. It’s the only piece of whatever past there was that I have. I have kept it tucked under my shirt for safekeeping since I was four years old. Even though gold is worthless today, the pendant is unique enough to kill for. The fine strand of interlocking chain has held up over the years. I never understood what the design of the pendant is supposed to represent, if anything at all. It has three linked pieces with bars that spread out from three points in a circular pattern. It’s beautiful, and I hold out hope that I might one day understand its significance.

  “Being in shelters your whole life had to of been hard. I’m sorry,” he says.

  Opening up to him is not the smartest thing I could do, but it takes my mind off whoever might be lurking out there. Amanda and I have heard bad things about this stretch of road at night.

  “So you don’t know anything about your family? No last name—nothing?”

  “Nope, and with how the world is, who really needs a last name?”

  “Well, I am glad you at least have Amanda in your life, even if she does hate me,” he says.

  I look ahead and realize this conversation has slowed our pace. Amanda is quite a bit ahead of us now.

  “She’s not usually this rough around the edges,” I say.

  The three of us push on with the moon overhead and our packs empty of food and water. We need to get to this town and need to get there now. Our bellies are grumbling and our mouths are dry. Amanda has been quiet for some time now; that’s usually because she’s hungry, but with Farren around I don’t know for sure. Or maybe she is finally tired of giving me those looks that say a thousand words.

  We’re scanning the horizon for any sign that we are getting close to Bullhead when a dim light far up the road grabs our attention.

  “Finally,” Amanda shouts up ahead. “Oh the sweet lights of a town full of food!”

  Farren grabs my shoulder and stops. “Hold on,” his eyes study the horizon.

  The dim lights flicker, and don’t resemble the steady glow of a town in the distance.

  “Why are you two stopping?” Amanda asks, eagerly waving us on. “Let’s move and get our reward!”

  “Be quiet, Amanda,” Farren says in a subtle voice. “Those are not the lights of Bullhead.”

  I look at the concern on his face and quickly turn to Amanda and notice her jogging ahead of us.

  “Harvesters,” he says, gripping my shoulder, pulling me back a few steps. “We need to hide—now!”

  I’ve never actually encountered so-called Harvesters before, but these merciless thugs are the reason we need to get to Bullhead before nightfall. My mind races as fear spirals through my thoughts. We have put ourselves right in the path of the most ruthless delinquents that roam the darkened roads of Lost Souls. They earned the name simply because these people scavenge at night looking for resources to harvest from the foolish who travel after the sun has set. It looks like we’re the fools tonight.

  “Wait… Amanda!” I yell as Farren guides me off the road and into the cover of the brush. />
  Amanda races ahead before she realizes what’s on the horizon. Now, I watch as she comes to a dead stop, paralyzed. She looks back toward the spot where Farren and I had been just seconds before, and I can see her confusion when she realizes we’re gone.

  Farren has led us to an overgrown patch of dead brush several yards off the road. I can’t take my eyes off Amanda, still frozen in the middle of the road. The Harvesters are getting closer—I can hear the sound of an electric vehicle humming toward her. I try to mentally push her to find cover, but I can’t break through her panic.

  A rusty, dented pickup comes up over the hill. It stops a few feet past Amanda. A gust of wind from the vehicle tosses her long hair over her face. She jolts back into motion.

  It’s too late, though. I get up to save her as four men jump from the truck and approach her. Farren grabs my arm and jerks me back to the ground.

  “No,” he mouths to me, shaking his head. His eyes convey his urgency, but it’s the grip he has on my forearm that keeps me rooted to this spot.

  “Well, this is a fun treat,” a voice echoes from the dim-lit road. “Are you lost, little lady?”

  Amanda freezes in place as the hulking sounds of heavy feet stomp her way. Out of the crowd, one man, who looks like he is wearing a sleeveless fur coat, shines a flashlight on Amanda’s frightened face. His tattered cowboy hat covers his eyes as he tilts his head at her like a curious dog. Dirty, stringy hair dangles out from his hat like greasy strands of yarn as he inches closer to her. Amanda’s eyes scan the ground for some sort of weapon.

  “Eyes on me,” he says. “I asked you a question.”

  “Umm… I…” Amanda struggles to find the words. “My crew is on their way to pick me up right now.”

  Amanda’s lie has little effect on the men. Their faces change, and they resemble nothing so much as a pack of wild dogs that have cornered their prey. One man, shirtless and slender, rubs his hands together as he nods his head in excitement. The rest circle her, inching closer. I rise to one knee and dig my fingers into the dirt. I have to help her. Do something, Kaylin. Do something.

  “You see, this is my stretch of road and you have not gotten permission to pass through,” he says.

  There is a twang to his voice that you don’t hear anymore. People don’t stay in one place long enough to develop accents; this man is nothing but a stain on the region that hasn’t been removed.

  “So what we’re going to do here is take an inventory of what you have to offer us as payment for your lack of judgment,” he snarls.

  As one, the men look Amanda up and down. My chest tightens as the four men creep closer to her. Quickly, Farren digs through his bag and grabs something as he gestures for me to stay put. He gets up to a crouching position and vanishes into the dark cover of the brush as he moves closer to Amanda and the men.

  Only a second or two pass before I hear a heavy clank and a bursting sound that rattles the brush in front of me. All four men duck and frantically look around trying to see where the blast came from. Farren emerges from the cover of the brush pointing what looks like a Magnus security pistol at the men. I recognize the high-tech look of the weapon that only official sector group personnel carry. Even in the dark, these weapons stand out. The darkened metal and shielded handgrip are dead giveaways. Once again, I wonder what we got ourselves into by rescuing Farren. I don’t sense he’s a threat to us, but he is still part of the Magnus Order.

  “Get away from her—now,” Farren urges as he shifts his gun sight from man to man. “Don’t move. I will kill all of you.”

  “Is this sweet little thang your prize, young man?” the leader asks, his head down and his hands in the air.

  “I am no one’s prize,” Amanda shouts, and she kicks the leader squarely in the back with the sole of her boot.

  Sweat flies from his hair as he falls to the ground. He struggles to regain his breath as he gets back up.

  In a shallow voice, the man whispers, “Well, that wasn’t very sweet of you, was it?”

  I get up to go to Amanda’s side. I’m almost there when a fifth man emerges from the shadows, moving too fast for me to warn Farren. The man comes up on Farren’s blind side and smacks down on the arm that holds the gun. The weapon breaks free from Farren’s grip and scrapes across the road, sliding to a stop under the Harvesters’ truck. I run at the assailant, hoping to catch him off guard, but one of the other Harvesters spots me and with a vicious backswing of his heavy arm, I’m driven back several feet to the ground. Three of the men overtake Farren and start pounding on him from all sides while the fourth man restrains Amanda. She looks at me and gives a simple nod. I know exactly what she’s thinking. The determination in her eyes says it all.

  Clearing my mind, I do not hesitate. I focus on the collective consciousness of the Harvesters. The onward approach of the man who knocked me to the ground appears to slow as my mind alters the movement of time for our collective reality. The clarity of the moment sharpens the visual details. Surrounding sounds fade out and at once the slow-witted thoughts of the men cloud my mind: lust, rage, despair. It’s a disgusting feeling to be connected to these men.

  Shortly after, I sense my own being expand out of my body and engulf the immediate area. A warm haze blankets our surrounding reality, sealing those involved. The overwhelming presence of the Harvesters becomes silent and I now push thoughts of mistrust and hatred at the men. Scattered sparks of light flicker before my vision as entangled energy fuses consciousness. Reality is altered and I sense a shift in the men as my push has changed the mood of the incident.

  The charging Harvester abruptly stops after a few steps and looks at me with his grimy face and soulless eyes. He looks as if he has conflicting thoughts running rampant in his head. His eyes shift from side to side as he tries to put them together. A few moments later the push takes hold as he squints and quickly shakes his head, jarring his confusion loose. A ravenous snarl overtakes his face as he changes direction toward his fellow Harvesters. The seeds of mistrust I planted in him have bloomed and his existing vile nature amplifies the intensity of his aggression. Fists clenched and head down, he rushes at the pile of men who continue to attack Farren. His chest and shoulders rise and fall as a wolf would before it pounces on its prey. He grabs the Harvester leader by the neck and thrusts him off the pile.

  “Darius,” he growls the leader’s name, “you’ve brought me down for the last time. I’m going to end you right now!”

  Darius crawls back a few feet as his fellow Harvester pulls out a small hunting knife and closes in.

  The shirtless man who restrains Amanda pushes her aside. He assesses the scene before racing toward the truck, intent only on getting away. Amanda crawls to a large rock and lifts it as she gets to her feet. Without hesitation, she smashes it over the head of one of the men who is fighting with Farren. The staggered Harvester falls to the ground face first. Blood trickles down the crown of his head, forming a small pool that reflects the light from the moon. Farren has only one attacker left to deal with. He regains control of the fight as he pins the Harvester to the ground, a knee on his throat. Amanda and I run to each other and embrace. We turn our attention to help Farren when the fleeing Harvester returns with Farren’s gun. He points it in the direction of Farren. A second later, a loud bang shakes the ground, and the fight is over. Farren scuttles back several feet, but to his surprise, it is the Harvester he was fighting who lies dead with a gaping hole in his head.

  The blast from the weapon distracts Darius’s attacker, and Darius lunges on the confused man. Within seconds, the leader has disabled his fellow Harvester and redirected the knife into the side of the man. He falls to the ground holding his critical gash. Darius then grabs ahold of his neck, twisting life from the man in one horrifying motion. A kinked body falls limp to the paved road; now the only Harvesters that remain are Darius and the man with Farren’s gun.

  “I knew I couldn’t trust you, Eddy,” Darius barks to the armed man as he twirls t
he hunting blade in one hand. “You’ve been after for me for years.”

  Amanda, Farren, and I cautiously regroup on the side of the road. I hold Amanda as Farren stands in front of us.

  Eddy points the gun at Darius. “How could I be worried of something so weak? Looking at all of you fools reminds me how you’ve been holding me back for far too long.”

  Darius moves quickly and flings the knife at Eddy, piercing his chest. He falls to his knees. He then charges Eddy only to be knocked back by the blast of the gun as it puts a hole in his belly. Darius collapses on himself as the life leaves his body. Shallow breaths are all that Eddy has to hold onto as the blade has punctured one of his lungs. He struggles to breathe as he spits out mouthfuls of blood, eventually losing the race as he chokes one last time before toppling over.

  I stare at the horror that lies before me, my heart heavy. Although not by my hand, I have killed five men and I will have to deal with the weight that will tug on my soul.

  Farren wastes no time and takes charge by ushering us to the newly abandoned Harvester truck. Shaken by what has unfolded before our eyes, Amanda turns to me and asks, “Are you okay?”

  Words fail to escape as shock locks my body.

  We see Farren go back to collect our things; he pauses to evaluate what just happened. Does he know? He signals that he’s going to get his pack in the brush and he disappears in the dark.

  Breaking from the shock, my mind jumps back and forth with thoughts of taking the truck and leaving him, but he risked his life to protect us from those men. We can’t do that to him now.

  It has been several minutes since Farren left to find his pack in the brush. I’m worried and call out for him, but there is no answer. I tell Amanda I am going to go look for him, but she stops me and volunteers to go instead.

  “You have done enough, Kay,” she says. “I’m sure he just can’t find his pack. I will go help him.”

  Amanda has apparently changed her attitude toward Farren. His willingness to step in and save us has softened her protective exterior. She jumps out of the truck and quickly fades into the black landscape.