Rising Aurora (Aurora & Obsidian Book 1)

by Tia Wilson

  The four men left the booth and split up across different walkways. Tom looked up and a system of tracks were attached to the metal ceiling above. Hooks hanging from remote controlled motors sat lifeless above the pits. Tom reached the first pit and looked down, and saw nothing but a raked sand floor. He moved along the walkway checking the others. They were all the same and each was linked with a series of passageways that ran between each concrete pit. What the hell is this place Tom thought, are they keeping animals here he wondered. One of the men called him from the opposite side and he joined him. The man pointed down into the pit. Amidst a spreading pool of blood lay a large man, his body shredded by bear bites and claw marks.

  “They are eating humans,” Tom said in disgust. There was no bigger taboo in his clan than attacking a human. Eating one was the ultimate transgression. The man in the pits arm twitched and flopped down into the blood drenched sand. “Get down there, he’s still alive! He goes with us,” Tom ordered the man beside him.

  More gunfire blasted from outside of the building and then Tom could her the whirr of helicopter blades starting up. An automatic gun loosed off a burst and then Tom heard the helicopter bank over the building he was in and fade off into the distance.

  There was a door on the other end of the walkway and Tom crossed it and cracked it open. It lead to another platform and set of steps similar to the one he had used to enter the building on the opposite side. He could see the four members of the other teams heading in his direction. One of the men was injured and he was being held by two others. Tom waved in their direction and one of the men shouted, “They deserted the place. Three of them left in the helicopter. The other buildings are clear.”

  “Get back to the truck we will be close behind. We better get out of here quick, they may come back with reinforcements,” Tom shouted down to the men. They nodded and headed back across the fields.

  Tom went back inside and climbed down a ladder to the buildings main floor. He checked the first door and it lead to a food preparations area. The door next to it was a small one room clinic. His men came through a door on the far side of the building and they were propping up a thin man wrapped in a heavy blanket. Tom sprinted over to them. “You are safe now that you are with us,” he told elder Silas.

  The old man raised his head and his unfocused eyes stared past Tom. His face was gaunt and the wrinkles on his face were streaked with dirt. “I don’t think they were feeding him,” said Trent, “he was babbling when we found him. He’s chewed the end of one of his fingers off.”

  “Those absolute savages,” Tom spat, “they have crossed a line this time. The clan is not going to let them get away with this. Lets get back to the truck.”

  The men cleared the building and up ahead the other half of Toms team were weighed down with the weight of the huge man they were trying to carry between them. Tom sprinted and caught up with them.

  “He’s barely alive,” Said one of the men struggling to keep him up right. The man they carried raised his head weakly and looked at Tom through bloodshot eyes.

  “He’ll survive if we get him to the van,” Tom said.

  The three teams crossed the open field and then climbed up the hill to where their truck was parked close to an old dirt road.

  The men carried Lewis’s broken body to the back of the truck and put him in there. He was still losing a lot of blood and Tom knew if he didn’t do something soon the man would die. “I’m going to have to heal him,” Tom said to Trent as he pulled him aside from the other men.

  Trent looked at him and said, “You know what the clan thinks about healing humans. They could banish you for doing it.”

  “Those savage bears back at the farm where eating this poor man. Somehow he got mixed up with the wrong people and now, what?” he threw up his hands, “They are keeping people like livestock so that can devour them anytime they want. You know that kind of behaviour is an aberration, it goes against everything we as a clan believe in. This man doesn’t deserve to die because some evil bear got a taste for human flesh. I am healing him, the clan leaders can deal with me later. Keep the men back while I do it,” Tom ordered Trent.

  Tom climbed into the back of the truck and looked down at the shredded chest of the injured man. His chest was barely rising and falling and his breath came out in a thin wheeze. He knelt beside him and Tom felt his heart begin to beat faster. He had never healed someone before and knew from the stories and old tales that elder Silas used to tell them as boys that the procedure was dangerous for both of them. Tom closed his eyes and he could feel the familiar primal pull in his core, blood seemed to surge in his ears like the crashing of waves and he was suddenly aware of scents that moments ago he couldn’t smell. He could feel the narrowing of all his senses to a pinprick as he became aware of his body and nothing else. He could feel his bones begin to shift as they started the process of breaking and reconfiguring themselves into his new form as a bear. He needed to hover right on the cusp of humanity like he was tiptoeing across a great abyss. He needed to make it over to the other side without tipping in. The pressure built inside him as his body waited for the transformation that was about to come.

  Tom bit into his wrist and broke through the skin, blood began to bubble to the surface. Tom pressed his wrist to the dying mans lips and let the blood drain in. The tug became even more incessant as his body tensed in anticipation of the change about to become. Tom imagined the power building inside him as a ball of light and he pictured it travelling down his arm and out with his flowing blood. His head jerked back and his back spasmed as if his body subconsciously knew that he was going to use the tremendous use of power for something other than a transformation. He could feel his body rebel against himself and he knew if he gave in he would set off the chain reaction until he transformed into a bear and then this man by his side would die.

  He redoubled his efforts and felt the warmth of his power flow down his arm. He could feel the transference of power from his blood to the injured man.The mans eyes shot open and he grabbed Toms arms in his huge hands and held it tight against his mouth sucking hungrily at the flowing blood. Toms body was wracked with pleasure and he knew that this was the allure of his power. It was if it knew it had the chance to spread to another body and change him to a bear. Tom nearly gave into the pull of the blood flow and with all his strength pulled his arm away from the man. As if he had pulled a battery out of a toy, the mans arms flopped by his side and his eyes shut. He would now stay in a deep recovering state for up to several days as his body knit itself together at an accelerated rate.

  Tom looked at the bite marks on his wrist and he could see the crescent marks begin to pull closed until all that was left was a red and raw mark on his wrist. He felt light headed and would probably feel off for a couple of days similar to having a dose of the flu. If he gave too much of his blood he knew there would be consequences for both himself and the injured man. Tom didn’t want to think of the possible side effects as he told himself he had done a good thing saving him. He would have to deal with the clan later if they decided he needed to be punished for his transgression.

  Tom hopped out the back of the truck and addressed his men. “We got what we were looking for. Lets ship out. We will all feel a lot safer when we are out of their territory. Let’s go.”

  Two of the men helped the elder Silas into the cab of the truck, and then they all climbed into the rear. Tom asked Trent to wait outside the cab for a few minutes, he needed to talk to elder Silas alone. Tom jumped into the cab and joined the elder Silas who was strapped in and wrapped in two heavy blankets. Silas turned his head as Tom got in and he nodded slowly. He took a sip of water from a bottle and licked his dry cracked lips.

  “What was that place?” Tom asked the elder.

  He looked straight out the window at the road ahead and said, “I could hear the roars of pain on most nights. I’d never heard anything like it in all my life. Those poor men they never had a chance,” Elder Silas said tra
iling off.

  “Were they eating them?” Tom asked.

  “Worse I think. They fought them. They made the men fight the bears. Tore the men to shreds then bandaged them up with a couple of days of rest and then threw them back in to fight all over again. This is a clan of savages, they have let the animal side win out,” he said reaching out for Toms arm and placing his old withered hand, light as a bunch of dried twigs, on Toms forearm. “Do you know what the humans would ever do if the found out about something like this? They would hunt every last one of us down and destroy every clan member. Humans believe they are the apex predator, they wouldn’t be able to live with knowing that there was something stronger and faster than them out in the world. Do you think that any human would listen to us if we told them we are a peaceful clan that has lived in coexistence with humans since the first men walked on this continent? Men would be blinded by blood, all they would want to do is hunt us down like the rabid animals they believe we are. I don’t want to be a mounted and stuffed head on some dentists wall so he can brag to his friends. I’ve been through too much in my life to see it all come crumbling down because of these white bears,” the elder Silas said pausing to take a drink from his bottle.

  “What do you think we should do,” Tom asked.

  “Honestly Tom, in my youth I would have said that we fight back and destroy this evil clan. I’m too tired for war, too old to see the people I love chewed up and spat out by this clan,” he said looking older and frailer than Tom had ever seen before.

  Tom looked him in the eyes and said, “We think we may have found the girl.”

  Elder Silas sat up in his chair as some colour came back into the skin of his papery cheeks, “Are you sure it’s her. Has she passed the trials yet?”

  “She doesn’t know about the trials, I was afraid to tell her,” Tom said looking out the window and avoiding Silas’s gaze.

  “Have you fallen in love with her? I warned you about that Tom,” he said, “you know what the Prophesy says about what lies ahead for her. You cant get too attached to her, you will bring yourself nothing but heartbreak and sorrow.”

  “Maybe the Prophesy is wrong,” Tom said.

  For a man his age and even though he had been through so much at the ranch Tom didn’t have time to stop his hand from slapping him across the face. “Don’t you ever disrespect the great tales of our clan. If we don’t have those stories to hold onto and guide us we will be no better than these animals here. If the Prophesy has written that we will be saved by this woman then it is true, even if it includes the many sacrifices she is going to have to make along the way to forge a lasting peace. You know better than anyone Tom that the old stories should not be ignored. How did you find her” he asked.

  Tom stared straight ahead his cheek stinging and his heart aching and said, “I fell for her on sight, fell hard. When I first saw her she, I don’t know, I’ve never felt anything like it before in my life. It was like I’d stuck my finger into a plug socket. The old stories were right it was her scent that lead me to her. I had caught an after trace of it on a subway ride a few days before I finally found her. The scent was faint, nothing more that an after image like a bulb flashing in your eyes. I took that train ride maybe thirty or forty times trying to find out where she got off. Every time I caught a hint of her scent,” he said trailing off.

  “It was like nothing you’ve ever experienced before?” Elder Silas said.

  “How do you know what its like?” Tom asked.

  “You don’t know all my stories yet young Tom, I’ll tell you mine at another time. Continue,” he said.

  “I tracked her for days. Any time my search lead me in the wrong direction I could feel a painful tug inside me, a deep well of loss. When I did eventually start to get closer to her I felt like a schoolboy about to go on a date with his first crush. I found myself daydreaming about her constantly, I’d zone out and stare off into the distance and all I would be thinking about was her. I hadn’t even seen her yet and still I thought I knew her already,” Tom said.

  “That’s the draw of a woman so powerful, her scent is like a drug to our kind,” Elder Silas said.

  “Well, it was coursing through my blood by the time I eventually tracked her down to a cafe near her place of work. That first time when I saw her, any feelings I had were simply magnified. She was more than the woman who was going to save our clan, I could see myself spending my life with her and settling down,”Tom said.

  “You know how deeply we bears feel,” Elder Silas said, “our extreme emotions have lead to the downfall of some of our greatest clan members. Sometimes we feel too intensely,” he said in a soft voice.

  “Then why did you send me after her,” Tom said feeling angry suddenly.

  Elder Silas put a thin and bony hand on Toms arm and said, “You know why we sent you Tom. You are the best tracker that the clan currently has. You know how the elders feel about you, we couldn’t have choose anybody more suited to the task than you.”

  “Did you know about the kind of intense feelings I would have for her?” Tom asked shrugging Silas’s arm off his.

  Elder Silas looked him in the eyes and said, ”We knew and suspected this would happen. I know this is going to be hard, but you need to ignore your feelings for this woman, you know what has to come and getting further involved is going to only lead to heartbreak for both of you.”

  All the fight was gone out of Tom. It would be a waste of time arguing back and forth with the elder as all roads would lead to the same thing, his feelings would need to be ignored for the greater good of securing a future for the clan. “You’re right. I’ll try to limit my contact with her once we are back in Twin Rock.”

  Tom rolled down his side window and shouted back to the men sitting in the back of the truck, “We move out in five minutes.” He rolled back up his window and said, “We should be at the border within four hours and after that home by nightfall.” Tom nodded at Trent standing outside by the tree line and he got into the cab and joined them. Tom started the engine and they headed back to the town of Twin Rock.

  11

  The Third Faction

  Nasak Tresode ran his fingers through his hairline, the rough scar leading from front to back across his skull itched. The scar was met by other scars that crisscrossed his skull. From his left eye a thick and gnarled scar ran down his cheek and into the thick bushy beard covering half his face. The left eye was milky and opaque and it seemed to accentuate the emerald green of his right eye that surveyed the people before him. He cracked his knuckles as he surveyed the crowd. His hands were those of a brawler, someone whose path had been forged with the smash of bone against flesh. His knuckles were gnarled and covered in a lattice of scars. When he balled his hands into a fist the tendons and joints cracked loudly as if he was crushing a bunch of dry twigs within his grasp. The fingernails on one hand came to sharpened points and coarse tufts of white blonde hair protruded from the back of this hand.

  He stood in the back of an old army truck stripped to the waist and wearing camo green army pants and heavy leather boots. His exposed torso was a map of the hardships of his life. Running across his chest ran three red scars, the flesh puckered and wrinkled along the lengths of the gouges. From his armpit to the waistband of his trousers the flesh along his side was pitted and rutted as if he had been dragged behind a moving vehicle. The flesh was waxy and stiff on that side of his body. If he turned his back to the crowd everyone would see two scars across his shoulder blade on each side. At the base of his spine was a circle enclosing a star and burnt into his flesh.

  The people before him were looking to him for guidance, for a leader to stand up and fight, ultimately they were looking for a leader who would take them home. The crowds eyes were on him and collectively they held their breath waiting for him to speak. Nasak observed the twenty or so people before him, outcasts the lot of them, branded and designated mongrels.

  In earlier decades some of these deformed and misshapen pe
ople would work for the travelling freak shows that travelled across America. Clawed feet or hands, or unfortunate tufts of facial hair might earn you the moniker of a wolf man. Raised in the wild and tamed and presented for the good peoples amusement is how the patter would go. It wasn't a dignified living but it was a living of a meagre sort. As time moved on and the freak show became something to be pitied or boycotted, the outcasts no longer had an outlet that would at least give them a sliver of access to a proper life. Once the last freak show packed up for good the only choice was to run and hide. They migrated north and for several decades this small band of people had been eking out a living in the boreal forest of Canada.

  Their numbers were small, the hard winter conditions killing off the weak and the infirm and leaving behind a hard and chiselled group of survivors. They had resigned themselves to a subsistence life, barely scraping by, living off the land and always afraid that humans would find them. That all changed with the arrival of Nasak ten years ago.

  Nasak jumped down from the bed of the truck so he was level with his people. They crowded around forming a semi circle. A handful of the mongrels could just about pass for human. Their transformation mostly taking place on their chest and legs and so easily hidden from prying eyes. Even so there was still something odd about them if you got to look at them close enough or under bright enough lights. Eyes that were slightly misshapen, an incisor or front tooth a little too sharp or elongated, a strange texture to their skin. Most of these details could be hidden with a hood up and a pair of sunglasses. The people inflicted with these aberrations were the only ones the group of mongrels trusted to go into town and get supplies, all without drawing any attention. These trips were few and far between. Somehow even without too many surface mutations people sensed something was off, some sort of primal warning system made the people wary as if they somehow knew they were in the presence of a dangerous animal. The mongrels tasked with supply runs would spend as little time as possible in town, avoiding the half angry, half confused stares and how people would hurry their kids away from them if they walked into a shop.