Blood Thirsty (Tri System's Edge Series Book 2)

by Ron Schrader

  Blood

  Thirsty

  Tri System’s Edge Series

  Book 2

  Ron Schrader

  Edited byEschler Editing

  Tri Systems Edge Series

  Blood Thirsty

  Volume 2, First Edition

  Official Website

  RonSchrader.com

  Follow Ron Schrader on Facebook

  facebook.com/AuthorRonSchrader

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 KWYM Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the publisher via email (below) with “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” in the subject line.

  KWYM Publishing

  kwympublishing.com

  info@kwympublishing.com

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  C

  HAPTER 1

  The dirty leather boot connected squarely with Nathan’s rib cage, lifting him for a brief moment off the cold, sandy ground. He struggled to breathe while the group of men surrounding him burst out in laughter again.

  “Nice one, Hank,” said one man.

  “Have another drink,” offered another.

  Hank obliged, before throwing the half-empty cup at Nathan, who was curled up on the ground trying to catch his breath.

  He rolled onto his stomach and attempted to get to his hands and knees. When he lifted his head, he could see the horizon, and he stared at the setting sun for a brief moment, wishing he were somewhere else. But he wasn’t. He knew this brutal ritual needed to come to an end, and he knew it wouldn’t be much longer now.

  He fought to hold back tears that were building inside, when another powerful blow to the back of the head caught him off guard and knocked him once again to the ground. Nathan clutched at his head and rolled onto his back, eyes shut, waiting patiently for the sharp pain in his skull to fade. When it finally did, he rolled to his side, pulling his arms and legs in for protection, his back to his enemies. A mild, dizzy sensation made it more difficult for him to concentrate, but he did his best to shake it off. He needed to focus. It was almost time.

  With his face pressed against the sand and his eyes squeezed shut, he began rehearsing in his mind what he was about to do. He closed his fist around a handful of sand and fed the growing rage inside with thoughts of what he’d learned just hours earlier. The gang of men he’d called family for as long as he could remember had never really cared about him. He was their whipping boy, their entertainment.

  Deep down he’d always known that they were the reason his parents were dead. The way they had treated him all these years was proof of their savagery. He’d never been given a choice or a chance. He knew nothing other than this life he’d led. Even the ongoing mistreatment had become so normal that he’d simply accepted it as a part of life. After all, they had still provided for him. He’d always had food, clothes, a roof over his head and a bed to sleep in, making it easy to justify the abuse.

  But things were different now. Something had snapped deep inside him when he heard the confession with his own ears, accompanied by laughter as if it were nothing more than a silly joke. He didn’t know all the details, just that his so-called family, this gang of savages, had been lying to him from the very beginning. The drunken tale of a bragging fool had finally opened his eyes.

  Ignoring the pain, he managed to push himself to his hands and knees, and he recalled the countless other times he’d been kicked, punched, and beaten, all in the name of entertainment. Today was going to be different, though, because one way or another this was going to end and his life was going to change.

  The laughter from behind bought him just enough time to inch his way to the patch of loose sand where he’d hidden something earlier that day, and the moment he reached it, his hands disappeared beneath the sand. They only returned once the object had been located.

  He pulled it quickly toward him to conceal it from the men behind him. Then he stole a peek over his shoulder, and a feeling of hesitation swept over him as imagined what it might be like to die. But the more he imagined it, the less he cared. He reminded himself that this wasn’t a life worth living anyway. Death couldn’t possibly be any worse.

  The boisterousness from the gang, completely amused by themselves, continued as he slowly and calmly rose from the ground. In his right hand, he firmly held the object he’d pulled from the sand. He gazed one last time at the short, rusty blade that barely glinted in the setting sun and smiled at the fact that no one seemed to notice that he was now standing. They were too distracted by their drinking and laughing to pay him any attention.

  Nathan used this to his advantage. He moved quickly toward the nearest member of the gang who, coincidentally, was the one he’d overheard earlier that day. This only fueled Nathan’s courage, and as he embraced the anger and hatred inside, he lunged forward, and with all his strength, he drove the blade forward and upward, under the man’s ribs.

  Time froze as he stared deeply into the fading green eyes of the middle-aged man who began gasping for air, his eyes and mouth open wide with surprise. Then, without wasting another second, Nathan pulled away from the man and watched as the bloodstained knife reappeared, and the man fell to the ground with a thud.

  The other five men didn’t realize what was happening until Nathan reached his next victim, and to Nathan’s surprise, no one tried to stop him. They seemed to be in complete shock and disbelief about what they were seeing.

  Using their drunken confusion to his advantage, Nathan carved his way through the men, with almost no resistance at all. One by one they fell to the ground, each meeting the same fate as the first.

  Nathan’s youth and rough upbringing had given him a clear advantage of speed and agility that the older men were unable to match, especially in their drunken state. The rusty blade in his strong hand had done the rest, and after watching the last man die, Nathan stood alone in the evening light, surrounded by a group of men who would never hurt him again.

  ~

  General Quinn woke abruptly and nearly fell out of the chair he’d dozed off in. He sat upright and pulled a pistol from its holster. Holding it out in front of him, he frantically scanned the room for any possible threat, only to realize he was still alone on the ship. “Must have been dreaming,” he muttered to himself, as he used his sleeve to wipe the cold sweat dripping down his forehead.

  He sat for a few minutes and allowed himself to fully wake, then stood up and walked toward the doorway of the room and straight for the cockpit of the cruiser. Once inside, he stared out the window into the surrounding fog that concea
led his presence on Paradise and attempted to determine the time of day. Although the thick fog outside the ship prevented any direct sunlight from reaching the valley floor, the fog was still brighter during the day than at night, giving off an almost eerie glow as it mixed with the light from above. He wondered why the fog hadn’t moved on during the night, but the fact that it was brighter now than before meant the sun had to be up. It also meant he’d slept clear through the night for the first time in a very long time.

  Not in the mood to take any more risks than he already had, he sat in the captain’s chair and fired up the engines, then looked down at the bloodstained bandage on his leg. In his scuffle with Davis the night before, the general had received his own trophy in the form of a deep slice in his upper thigh and hadn’t flown very far from the cliffs before deciding he’d better land and tend to his wound. What he didn’t expect was to fall asleep—and sleep through the entire night—in such close proximity to his enemies. It was time to move on before anyone found him.

  As the ship lifted off the ground, he smiled at his good fortune; he’d not only had the satisfaction of killing Davis, but he’d managed to do it in front of Kalla and still make it out alive. The very thought of the deed brought a feeling of great pleasure to him, and he grinned profusely as he piloted the ship out of the fog and away from any possible danger.

  The general flew several kilometers before feeling satisfied he was far enough away from his enemies, then touched down on the surface again, hidden beneath the never-ending fog on the valley floor. He hoped they would believe he’d left the planet altogether, which he planned to do soon enough, but only after he’d learned more about this strange place.

  Reaching for the power toggle, he flipped it and waited for the hum of the engines to gradually fade into silence. Once it was quiet, his thoughts shifted to Davis, whom he knew must be long dead by now, and he couldn’t help but smile. If only I’d been able to do the same to Kalla, he thought. His smile faded the longer he pondered all that had happened, knowing she would probably try to come after him and get revenge for killing Davis, not that she needed another reason. The fact that he’d held her prisoner for several weeks was enough to keep him looking over his shoulder for a long time.

  He pushed those worries aside for now, and instead focused on the details of his next move when a sudden clank on the ship’s hull interrupted his thoughts. He stared out the cockpit window for several minutes, examining the fog, but flinched when another loud bang suddenly echoed through the ship.

  Although he could feel his heart pounding inside his chest, he resisted the urge to move and continued to stare intently out the window. He leaned closer to the glass, hoping to see the cause of the noise, when the thick air outside all at once began to move as though it were coming to life. He fell backward in his chair, startled and disturbed, as a dark shape darted through the fog. It moved too fast to be a man, he determined, but the fog prevented him from identifying the creature.

  Searching his mind for a possible answer, he was startled again by several more pounding noises in random succession, all echoing through the ship. It was clear to him now that something outside wanted to get in.

  ~

  Kalla leaned forward in her chair and gently grasped Davis’ limp hand. He’d been lying unconscious in the med center for several hours now. “I know it’s probably just too soon, but you need to wake up,” she insisted. She wasn’t sure if he could even hear her, but she spoke to him anyway, hoping he’d wake up.

  The surgeons had done their best to repair the damage caused by the general’s knife, but they had also made it very clear that Davis’ odds of pulling through weren’t good. So now all she could do was hope that either the surgery was successful, or that her bite would do something to save him.

  In a quiet whisper, she said “When I find him, and I will, I promise you . . .” She paused as a single tear drop made its way down her face. Before she said another word, firm hands gently grasped her shoulders. “Jarek,” she said, knowing it was him standing behind her, “I’m gonna find him and when I do . . .”

  “I know,” Jarek interrupted, as he massaged her shoulders. “And I’m going to help you.”

  Kalla reached up and took hold of his hand. “Thank you,” she said softly. Then, after a brief pause, she turned around and looked up at Jarek. “Is there anything else we can do here?” she pleaded.

  He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  “You know, it’s funny. He was one of the bad guys. I shouldn’t even care if he dies. He deserves it, right?” Immediately Kalla wished she could take the words back. The general would have captured her with or without Davis’ presence that day, and whether or not he’d actually been a part of what went on, she knew he had changed. “Maybe I would’ve eventually gotten free on my own, but I didn’t. He . . .”

  “I know,” Jarek said, “but there’s not really anything you can do for him right now. He’s either going to make it, or he won’t.”

  Kalla stood up and paused briefly, holding her breath in an effort to take control of her rising emotions before she completely lost it. Then, after she had calmed down, she looked Jarek in the eyes and said, “We’re going to hunt him down.”

  Jarek maintained eye contact and nodded as the muscles in his face shifted to form a scowl.

  Kalla knew there was no need to convince him. “I just want to stick around long enough to know if Davis makes it or not. If he wakes up, I should be here,” she said, turning toward the almost lifeless body.

  She focused on the mask he wore to help him breathe, making sure the transparent material still showed signs of moisture, and was relieved to confirm he was still breathing for the moment. Then, out of pure curiosity, she moved closer and leaned over his body to inspect the area where she’d bitten him. She didn’t know what it meant, but the bite marks were all but gone. Only two small, pinkish scars remained.

  “The bite?” Jarek asked. “Is it healed?”

  “Yeah, I think it is. Or mostly, anyway. So why isn’t he getting any better?” Kalla asked. She glanced back at Jarek, expecting him to have the answer.

  He shrugged and shook his head slowly. “I told you before, this is all new. You’re the only one I’ve ever bitten, and before me—before whatever it is that we are—there was just the Vie.”

  Kalla turned back toward Davis, wondering if the healed bite meant anything at all. Jarek’s bite had done much more than save her, it had completely changed her. She wasn’t a scientist, but she knew enough to understand that something in his DNA had been responsible for her transition. So, it only made sense that her bite would do the same thing to Davis. But looking at him, lying helpless, fighting for his life, she couldn’t help but wonder why her bite wasn’t healing him.

  “Maybe he just needs more time,” she said out loud. But the hourly reports from the medical staff told a different story. Davis wasn’t getting better, he was getting worse; he was dying.

  Unable to do anything else, Kalla finally turned and headed for the door.

  “I thought you wanted to wait?” Jarek said, grabbing her by the shoulder.

  “I just need some air.”

  Jarek nodded, removed his hand, and began to follow.

  “No, I need to think . . . alone,” she said. She firmly placed her hand on Jarek’s chest to stop him. “I’ll be back in a bit, I promise.” She backed away from Jarek and slowly left the room, then headed outside the building.

  While it had only been a day since she’d returned to Paradise, Kalla had spent almost all of her time in the med center with Davis. She needed some space; she needed to recharge. And the moment she stepped outside, she felt a little better. The combination of the warm afternoon sun and cool breeze cleared her mind and calmed her emotions. But none of that changed the fact that she was hungry, too. She hadn’t eaten anything since Davis, Tuck, and Dal had rescued her back on Esaria, but with everything that had happened since then, it sure seemed like a lot longer,
and her appetite agreed.

  Kalla jogged a steady pace to the edge of the cliff and without any hesitation dropped over the edge and began a free fall parallel to the rock wall, scraping her hands along the rocky face to slow her descent. Before long, she could see the thick fog rapidly approaching, which meant the ground was near.

  She waited until the last second and pushed herself away from the wall, landing in a crouched position on the valley floor.

  “I’d forgotten how thick this fog was,” she muttered quietly, as she stood and turned around, staring out into nothingness. But she didn’t feel fear like she once had. Instead, a sudden rush of energy and excitement came over her as memories flooded her mind. The Vie were no longer the threat they’d once been. In fact, she almost hoped to run into some, just so she could blow off some steam. The muscles in her face gave way to a faint smile as she entertained the thought for a moment, then she darted off into the flat meadow, on the hunt for her meal.

  ~

  The random pounding outside the ship continued for several hours before the would-be intruders finally gave up, or so the general thought. Uncertain if the they would return or not, he continued to sit patiently and listen as he stared out the cockpit window. Although he’d managed to catch glimpses of several creatures as they ran past his view, he still had no idea what they were. All he knew for certain was that they were quite aggressive, and that fact intrigued him.

  While they had been trying to get inside the ship, the general had had a rush of ideas and was already forming a plan to capture one of the beasts for closer study, with the end goal of finding a way to weaponize them. He just needed some bait.

  Thinking he might possibly find what he needed here on the planet, he fired up the engines and lifted off the ground. He steered the ship up and out of the thick fog until he was hovering right above it, searching for any signs of civilization while maintaining a good safe distance from the cliffs.