by KM Fortune
RAVEN CLOSED ON THE beast, catching it in her headlight, and gasped. Outside of old horror movies, she had never seen anything like the creature which crouched in the road. Dressed in torn pants and leather boots, but shirtless, the thing had the body of a large muscular man. In the harsh light, it looked like a layer of tawny fur covered his thick arms and chest. Only the head was different. Raven could see the thing had the face of a predator. Instead of a nose and mouth, the two combined into a snout, and she could see, even from a distance, it was filled with gleaming fangs. The eyes were cat-like, yellow slits reflecting back the light. What is this thing? Raven thought as she barreled straight for it. She watched it hiss and spit in frustration as she blinded it with the one working headlight. Stomping the jeep’s pedal to the floor, she was sure she would strike it, but at the last moment, the cat leaped with incredible speed to the side and out of her way. The jeep rattled and roared past, and Raven kept going down the road.
KIT CROUCHED IN THE distance, hidden in her cloak and the shadow of a small bush. She could not believe her eyes. The hermit stole the jeep, she thought. Incredible. It only added to the intrigue. Not only had no one in her clan yet mastered the art of driving a car, but the stranger had the guts to go for it. And he drives great. Backing up, racing along the embankment, and making a sharp turn? Kit could hardly believe her eyes at the sudden change of events. Best of all though was the last second lighting of the headlight to dazzle the cat mutant. Kit was impressed.
Now she watched as the furious cat mutant chased after the jeep. The vehicle’s progress was slowed by the many ruts and bumps in the old pavement. For a moment, Kit was sure the cat mutant would catch it, he was so fast, but the second he got his claws into the back lip of the jeep’s cargo area, the hermit cleverly swerved hard to the left and sent the off balance beast tumbling along the pavement. Before he could stop his roll and recover, the jeep was too far away and racing into the night. Kit looked on as the cat mutant roared in a fury and rolled around on the ground clawing at the pavement and the earth. Kit smiled in the night while she watched his tantrum. She held a specific grudge against this mutant, and she clenched and unclenched her scarred fist. It was pleasing to see the cunning beast bested.
While the cat mutant still raged, Kit slipped silently through the night to where she knew the hermit had been sleeping. She found meager camp supplies, neatly tied together with a short piece of cloth, sat beside a narrow strip of tattered, old carpet. Working quickly and silently, Kit rolled up the rug and gathered the provisions together. She was very curious about examining them and trying to find clues to help her determine the origin of this stranger, but now was not the time. With the hermit’s belongings all in hand, Kit took one last look at the now quiet but still laid out cat mutant. It looked as though he was staring up at the stars, perhaps pondering this latest twist of fate and evaluating his new enemies. Kit moved with extra caution as she slipped away across the snowy ground and disappeared into the night.
AS THE SUN BEGAN TO rise on the horizon, the old jeep started to sputter. A few moments later the engine quit altogether, and as the vehicle rolled to a stop, Raven guessed the thing was finally out of gas. A look around let her know there was no getting more anytime soon. Even if gas stations were available in the new reality where she found herself, she was in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but snow, rocks, low scrub trees and tall stiff grass was visible for as far as the eye could see. There was not a building in sight. I bet gas is a precious commodity now, she thought and wondered how such a nasty creature as the cat beast had acquired any. Violence seemed the most logical answer. Raven shivered at the thought of meeting up with it again.
Tired now that the adrenaline from the night had worn off, she decided to sleep a few hours. It was then she realized her belongings were left well behind her. The idea was upsetting. She had grown very attached to her few possessions, primitive as they were, and she wondered how she might get by without her eyeglasses to make fire and her walking stick for hunting and defense. Stepping out of the jeep, Raven was angry at her stupidity. It had been on impulse she made a grab for the vehicle and escaped, but it would have been smarter to take her bundled gear with her. With a sigh at her misfortune, she turned to examine the contents of the now defunct jeep. Maybe with a little luck, the beast has left me something useful behind, she thought.
A meticulous survey turned up little. The jeep’s glove box had lost its door years ago and was empty. The cargo area contained a couple disgustingly smelly, hairy blankets which Raven could not convince herself to use. Warmth was always a problem, but the repulsive things just were not worth it. There was not any food in the jeep, but there was a plastic half-gallon jug of some brown fluid. A whiff told Raven the contents were fermented, but otherwise, it was indescribable. She was thirsty and hungry but was cautious about drinking the mysterious liquid. It is probably a sort of primitive whiskey, she thought. Dipping in with her finger, Raven tasted it. The liquid burned her tongue on contact and Raven decided to avoid getting any more of it in her mouth. Without hesitation, she dumped the liquid out onto the ground. The container at least could come in handy if she could find a spring or other source of water. The last item she uncovered in the jeep was a huge find though. It was a weapon. A weathered, bolt action Remington hunting rifle.
Raven ran a hand over it, her heart beating fast at the thought of having a real means of hunting and protecting herself. She found the button to release the gun’s short magazine. Looking inside she counted four bullets, obviously reloads from the scratched and tarnished look of the shell casings. Cradling the rifle, Raven pulled the bolt back, ejecting a fifth round into the dirt at her feet. She tilted the barrel skyward and looked along its inside length seeing some dirt but no obstructions or dents. It seemed likely it was a working weapon if the beast had it in his possession.
Satisfied, Raven picked up the ejected round, blew the dust off it and inserted it into the magazine before riding the bolt back home. The loaded gun gave her comfort. I’m not sure I would have exchanged it for all of my other gear, but at least it is something, she thought. She knew she would have to be smart. Five bullets would not go far, but it did give her some defense in case she came face-to-face with the cat-man thing again. Or who knows what other frightening creatures are around here, she thought. When she was satisfied there was nothing else to salvage, Raven tied the empty jug to a loop around her waist, cradled the rifle in her arms, and started walking along the edge of the pavement once again. She was tired, but the fear of no water and no food keep her feet moving. Her only hope now was to eventually follow the deserted road to something familiar.
CHAPTER 7
MATTHEW SLOWLY RELEASED the breath he was holding as he pulled himself upward. The finally healing blisters on his hands stung, and his arms quivered, but he was determined. Don’t you dare stop now, he thought. Just one more. Finally, his chin lifted above the bar. Fifty. Proud of his accomplishment, he dropped to the ground. Three weeks ago when he was thrust in with a new batch of recruits for the Patrols, he could only do eight pull-ups. He had worked hard to increase his strength as it was the area where he was most deficient. The other twelve recruits were bred to be strong. As a scientist, Matthew's genetic engineering was coded completely different. It was not all bad. He was vastly smarter than the others and learned skills and tactics immediately. Plus it helped with his marksmanship. None of the others could hit targets at the distances he could. He would have explained to anyone who asked the reason was his ability to calculate trajectories, account for rise, and compensate for any crosswind. No one asked.
Matthew was an outcast. Word of his association with the escaped "witch" went around the barracks quickly. Now he was shunned, and the other recruits would not sit near him at meals or sleep in any of the bunks around him. Being a bit of a loner, Matthew shook it off as best he could. At least the cold shoulders were better than the occasional hostile stare. A couple of the others were slowly becoming m
ore aggressive toward him. It was the primary motivation behind Matthew's strength training. He was not an idiot. A fight was brewing. It was the last thing he wanted
FROM DAY ONE, GABRIEL, the leader of the Patrols, watched Matthew carefully. Right out of the gate, the man shocked him. The guy worked three times as hard as any other recruit. Considering the circumstances around his being stuck with the Patrols, Gabriel assumed he would check out and be useless. In fact, he initially would have bet his right arm that the skinny scientist washed out the first week. Now he was glad he did not make any bets. We’re getting ready to start week four and the guy has the potential to be my best soldier, Gabriel thought. He was wicked smart, although it was to be expected, but it was almost unsettling how fast he learned. The trainer reported to Gabriel how Matthew broke down and reassembled his combat rifle after just the first demonstration, and he did it quicker than the trainer had ever seen before. Maybe I need to talk to the council and recommend a few more brain cells in the sauce for my next batch of recruits.
There was a problem though. The other men despised him. Gabriel could not blame them. The man was the sole reason all of Eden was on edge. Patrol teams kept going out and coming up empty. The female has got to be dead in some ravine, he thought. If only we could find a body. So far there was nothing, aside from perpetual bad luck. A team came back yesterday and were messed up badly. A cat mutant of some kind had attacked them, and they were barely able to get away with their lives. Plus the monster stole their jeep. It was an old one and no great loss, but the incident still looked bad on Gabriel's report to upstairs. I wish I had never heard of this woman from the ice.
MATTHEW SAT ALONE AT one of the tables in the chow hall and ate his lunch. It was a grayish mash of unappealing food, but it was the only thing the cooks would serve him. I'm lucky they feed me at all I guess, he thought and shoveled another forkful into his mouth. His beard was gone, and his head was shaved down to stubble. The effect made him feel a little naked, but it made sense to him. All of the recruits were new clones. Their hair was still growing out, and the trainers needed him to fit in. In the colony, it was a sin to shave. Scripture was very clear on it. Guess people think my soul is lost anyway. Matthew figured they were right. He had let a woman, Raven, out the emergency exit. I wonder if she made it? He really hoped so. Raven was unique. She made him feel like no one else ever had, and it was not only because she was beautiful. I was drawn to her and her spirit toward life, he thought. He hoped someday, somehow, he would meet her again, but knew it was impossible. Even if she survived the trip down the mountain and the wasteland of the plains, there was no reason their paths would cross. Or at least I hope not. As part of the Patrols, if he were with a team who found her, the outcome would be bad. Matthew shuddered, hating the idea and praying in his heart it would never happen.
Just then he sensed someone behind him. Pushing his tray aside, he stood up quickly and whirled around. Behind him, looking full of menace, was another recruit. His assigned name was Booker, and he was without a doubt the bully among the squad. "Can I help you?" Matthew asked.
Booker looked back at the group already forming and laughed. “Listen to this guy. All polite, like he wasn’t some sort of devil’s pawn,” Booker said. Matthew swallowed hard, but kept a straight face waiting to see what would happen next. Booker turned back to him. “Well, I think it is past time to show you how the rest of us feel about having to breathe the same air as a traitor to the colony.”
Matthew held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I did what was right. She deserved to live. The devil had no part in it,” he said.
Booker’s face turned red. “Are you kidding me? You’re a disgrace to all of us. I can’t understand for a second why they have not terminated your sorry ass.”
Matthew shrugged. “You not understanding something is certainly nothing new,” he said as he stepped to the side and gave himself more space. This has been a long time coming, he thought. Best deal with it now. Booker tracked him. A vein pulsed in his forehead and his rage was evident. He pulled back his right fist and let go with a haymaker. Well, he couldn't have telegraphed that punch any more than that. Matthew pulled his head out of the way easily, and Booker stumbled with the miss.
“Why you sneaky little serpent. I’m going to terminate you myself,” Booker growled.
Again Matthew held up his hands to show his intent to do no harm. "I really don't want to hurt anyone. I am a scientist by genetic engineering. It is not in my design to hurt my brothers." The group around him laughed, and Booker snickered. The idea of a member of the Patrols not wanting to hurt anyone was utterly ridiculous.
"Fine," Booker said. "I'll do the harm, and you can just stand there." He threw another punch, faster this time, but again Matthew saw it coming before it was hardly thrown. The man's shift in weight and focus gave him away. Matthew ducked and spun to the right. Booker looked like he was about to explode. The other recruits were no longer laughing and started to close the circle.
“For the last time,” Matthew said. “Let this go.” Booker roared and charged forward. With no place to maneuver, Matthew was caught in a bear hug and lifted off of the ground. His arms were pinned at his sides. He and Booker were face-to-face. Booker grinned.
“Now what are you going to do, scientist?” he said. Matthew knew he had no choice. I hate to do this, but some things can’t be avoided. Pulling his head back, he gathered momentum and with all his strength, he butted Booker hard between the eyes. The man immediately dropped Matthew and tumbled back in a heap.
“I’m going to use my head,” Matthew said, rubbing his forehead. “You should try it sometime.”
Samuel barged into Gabriel's office unannounced. "Rumor has it there was a fight between the new batch of recruits. Is that accurate?" he asked. Gabriel sighed and leaned back in his chair. Fantastic, he thought. One hour goes by, and Samuel knows already. He had hoped the whole incident would go by without a big fuss, but clearly, it was not going to be the case. Gabriel did not completely understand Samuel's fixation with the scientist. The whole thing was weird in his opinion, which he kept to himself.
“Yes, at midday meal. Not much to it though,” Gabriel answered. “You certainly didn’t need to come all the way down here. I was going to write the whole thing up and send it upstairs.” Okay, not a hundred percent true, but the last thing I want is this guy on my back.
“I need to know now. Tell me the details,” Samuel demanded. It was clear he was not happy.
Gabriel shrugged. "I don't see why you're so worked up. The scientist got in a scrap with my biggest recruit. Booker we call him. Pretty sure he started it. The men all hate Matthew. Didn't matter though. The scientist took Booker out with one strike. Lucky nothing was broken because I'd hate to lose another recruit already," he said. Samuel said nothing, only glared at him. It made Gabriel uncomfortable, and he started to fidget with the papers on his desk. "You know, I have to admit your scientist is probably my best recruit at this point."
Samuel slammed his fist down on the desk making items bounce off and onto the floor. “Unacceptable,” he hissed. “Matthew was not sent down here to be your shining star. He’s being punished.” Well, why didn’t you say so, Gabriel thought but held his tongue and waited for Samuel to finish. “I want Matthew sent out with the next patrol. No more training. Just out.”
“Now wait a minute,” Gabriel said. “He’s not even halfway through the training. He can’t—”
“Out!” Samuel growled. “And no more of these two man teams. They are getting nowhere. I want a crusade, do you hear me? Send him out with a platoon. Kill everything they find until they can bring this female’s body to me.”
Gabriel swallowed. A crusade was serious business. The colony had not ordered one in over a year. “You’re sure?” he asked. “The Creator is onboard with this?”
Samuel narrowed his eyes. "Let me handle The Creator," he murmured. "I just want this over."
CHAPTER 8
BLAZE STOOD ON TOP of a pile of rubble near the entrance to the semi-collapsed building he called home and scouted the horizon. His eyes were the sharpest of the clan, except for maybe Kit, who was away again. Surveying the flat high desert, he let his eyes skim slowly over the landscape. He would not let anyone proceed out into the open until he was confident it was safe. Until today, Willow had elected to keep the group together inside. Over the last two weeks, the clan laid low, hoping the Patrols constant searching would lessen. It had been tough, especially for the younger ones. Being unexpectedly confined even with a small group wore on everyone. It had also almost completely depleted their supply of stored food and firewood.
Blaze turned from where he stood and looked down the pile to where Willow was crouched, half hidden amongst the rubble. He signaled an all clear and started to climb down over the pieces of broken cement. Willow stood up to meet him. “Anything?” she asked.
“Nothing I could see. No dots, no dust, no smoke. I think it’s safe,” Blaze answered, pulling up the hood of his old green and brown military fatigue jacket. He needed it over his ears to block the morning cold winter wind. Willow nodded.
“Then we should take advantage of the quiet and try to get something to eat. You, Blue and I, maybe Stump too, should go see if we can bring down a few deer or at least rabbits. The others can stay close by the shelter and gather a week’s worth of firewood.”