The New Earth Chronicles: II
The Changlings
by
J. J. Thompson
Text Copyright © 2017 J. J. Thompson
All Rights Reserved
Cover Art by Y. Nikolova at Ammonia Book Covers
“Evil exists. It's goodness that I'm not quite sure about.”
- Sarah Whitman
Table of 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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Links and Stuff
Chapter 1
Once upon a time, before the dragons returned, before the world of technology disappeared and a new age of magic and monsters arose, Sarah was happy. Wasn't she?
Yes, she was sure of it. Life hadn't always been so hard. Surely once she had been loved by a long forgotten parent, maybe had a brother or a sister, aunts or uncles. A grandparent. Hadn't she?
It was hard to remember anymore. So many years had passed since Ottawa, her home town, had fallen in a wave of fire and blood. Years of suffering, of terror, of scratching out a meager living within the ruins of the destroyed city.
I think it's been ten years. Or has it?
“Bobby,” Sarah whispered. “How long has it been?”
The shapeless mass that was her closest friend snorted in his sleep, sat up abruptly and banged his head on the low ceiling of the hole they were hiding in. They had been wandering the city near their permanent camp when night fell, so they had found some cover and fallen asleep.
“Ouch!” he cried out softly. “Sarah? Wha...what is it?”
“I was just wondering how long we've been hiding here, in Ottawa. How long since the dragons killed everybody?”
Bobby lay back down with a groan.
“You woke me up for that? Ow, my head.”
“It's a simple question, silly,” she told him with exasperation. “You're so much better at remembering stuff like that than I am.”
“I am? Oh, okay. Lemme think a sec. Um...”
Sarah waited patiently. Sometimes it took Bobby a few minutes to concentrate on stuff, especially after he just woke up.
Boys, she thought. They just don't think like we do. They have to work things out, step by step.
“Yeah,” Bobby replied after giving the question a few minutes of thought. “Yeah, I got it. It's about ten years now. Wow, that's a long time! I hadn't realized how long until just now. How old were you when we Changed, Sarah? I was, um, eleven. I think.”
“Eight,” Sarah told him in a low voice.
It was always wise to speak quietly at night in the city. Sometimes there were things stalking the ruins and it was not good to draw their attention. Not even for the Changlings.
“I remember,” she continued. “We had just celebrated my eighth birthday, the day before the dragons hit us.”
She ached for a moment.
“Such a nice day, even if we were locked up like a bunch of lab rats. At least we had food and water, and walls to protect us from the mean people. The ones who thought that Changlings were the reason that the electricity and the water supply didn't work any more.”
“Yeah, I remember them,” Bobby said as he moved in the darkness, trying to get comfortable in the confined space. “When I began to Change, there were some boys who saw me without my hoodie once. They threw stones at me and laughed. I had to run three blocks, all the way home to get away from them. My mom was so mad. And then the next day, the government men came and took me away, 'for my own protection', they said.”
He made a sound of disgust.
“Yeah, some protection. Being poked and prodded, stabbed with needles for blood samples day after day. Asked a million questions about things I didn't even understand.”
Sarah felt Bobby's eyes on her even though she couldn't see him in the shadows.
“They were the monsters back then. Now at least we can see the bad things for what they are. Before the dragons, they just looked like people.”
Sarah sighed and tugged on the loose clothing around her, tightening the many layers of rags that she had worn for so long now that they felt like an extension of her own body.
“But there are more real monsters now, Bobby. Have you noticed that? Before we just had to worry about the undead wandering around the city. Fewer and fewer every year until there were none left. They were easy to avoid, without any guidance from the necromancers or...” she swallowed nervously at the memory, “Madam.”
A long time ago, just a couple of years after the dragons had leveled the city, Sarah and the other Changlings had been hunted by a creature created by a group of evil necromancers, servants of evil forces. It, she, had called herself 'Madam'. What she had actually been was a lich; an undead spell caster who could reanimate corpses and turn them into her followers. In her diseased mind, the creature had seen herself as their queen. Some of the Changlings had been caught by them and turned into mindless zombies as well, doomed to follow her as slaves to her will.
But not Sarah and her friends. They were too quick for the monsters; too clever. Later they had heard that Madam had been destroyed by a man named Simon O'Toole. He was a wizard that Sarah had met and given aid to when she had found him in the city, searching for something.
What had that been, Sarah wondered, trying to remember. The years passed so quickly and she had seen so much pain and sadness that it was hard to recall specifics sometimes.
Well, it didn't matter, she decided. What mattered was that she had helped the wizard and he had killed the lich. It gave her great satisfaction to know that.
“You were clever to help that grownup back then,” Bobby told her, making Sarah smile in the darkness. “I didn't trust him.”
“You don't really trust anybody, Bobby,” she asserted with a disdainful sniff. “You should count yourself lucky that I'm around to help you make the right choices.”
“Oh, I do, I do,” he replied hastily. “You're always right, Sarah. I know that.”
“Good. Now shush and get some sleep.”
“Okay. Good night.”
“Good night, Bobby. Sleep tight.”
“And don't let the bedbugs bite,” he murmured sleepily.
Sarah smiled again as she listened to him start to snore gently.
Dear Bobby, she thought as she snuggled deeper into her wrappings. What would I do without him?
Sarah Whitman had been several months shy of her eighth birthday when she had begun to change physically. Technology had already started to break down, no one knew why, and six months later it would fail completely.
And six months after that, the dragons would return and destroy humanity almost completely.
But back then, that lay ahead in the future and it was something that nobody could predict.
For young Sarah, her changes were of much greater concern than some unimaginable future tragedy.
It had started with her eyes. Her big innocent blue eyes had changed over the course of just a few days to a piercing lemon yellow. And her pupils had lengthened into vertical slits like a cat's.
Naturally her mother, a single parent, had panicked. Repor
ts were pouring in from all around the globe that children were mutating in strange ways, many of them monstrous. Some had grown extra fingers and toes, or lost some. Several had sprouted vestigial wings, leathern and ribbed like bats.
Fangs had appeared, talons had replaced fingernails. Skin had transformed into scales or fur. In short, those children were becoming something...else. And doctors and scientists had no idea why.
Sarah's mother had rushed her to their family doctor, who had been baffled by her strange yellow eyes. The physician had recommended keeping the girl home from school for a while and had promised to contact a specialist and set up an appointment for Sarah as soon as possible.
What Mrs. Whitman hadn't known at the time was that the 'specialist' that the doctor had mentioned was actually a hot-line that medical professionals had been advised to call if any abnormalities appeared among their young patients.
The next day both Sarah and her mother learned the truth when a team of people wearing strange orange hazmat suits appeared at their door, accompanied by a half-dozen soldiers. The soldiers were armed.
Despite being reassured that her daughter was being taken away for treatment of her 'potentially dangerous' condition, and would be back home before she knew it, Sarah's mother had gone into hysterics while the girl was whisked away by the intimidating strangers.
Sarah herself was so frightened by the armed men with the cold eyes that all she had managed to do when they questioned her was nod or shake her head. She was allowed to hug her mother once, briefly, and then she was escorted to a van and driven off.
She had never seen her mother again.
The facility that Sarah was taken to was located outside of the city, several miles to the west. It had a funny name, the Diefenbunker, and was almost all built underground. She learned over time that the large facility had been built as a shelter for members of the Canadian Parliament back in the days of the Cold War, to retreat to in the event of a nuclear attack. In recent years, the shelter had been used as a museum. And then it had been turned into a holding area for 'special children'.
When the retrieval squad arrived at the bunker, they were met by a second group, all dressed in white medical garb and led by a woman. She was tall and thin, with high cheekbones and bright hazel eyes, and introduced herself to Sarah as Doctor Carol Suthers.
“But you can call me Carol,” she told the frightened girl as she knelt down to look at her face to face. “I'm sure that you are scared and confused, Sarah, and I'm sorry about that. But no one will hurt you here, I promise. We're all here to try to help children just like you. So, how are you doing?”
“I want to go home,” Sarah told her in a thin, shaking voice. “I miss my mom.”
“Oh sweetie, I know you do,” the doctor said sympathetically.
She looked up at the squad of uniformed men and frowned in obvious irritation.
“You can leave her with me, gentlemen,” Dr. Suthers snapped. “I doubt that a seven year old child constitutes a threat to anyone's safety.”
“We have our orders, doctor,” one of them replied stiffly. “We cannot leave you alone with the child until she is in a secure location. No exceptions.”
The woman sighed and stood up. She offered her hand to Sarah.
“Come along, sweetie. Once we get inside, these scary men will leave you alone. Okay?”
Sarah looked up at the glowering soldiers and took the doctor's hand fearfully. She was led through a huge metal door and down a long hallway to a large elevator. The medical team joined her and Dr. Suthers inside of the car but, to the girl's relief, the soldiers stayed above ground.
The large freight elevator shook and squealed as it descended and the doctor smiled reassuringly at Sarah.
“Sorry for the sound,” she said loudly. “This old thing was built years ago and only recently started being used regularly. But it's safe enough.”
“So they say,” one of the others in the group, a young man, said nervously.
“Ryan, please,” Dr. Suthers said with a warning nod at Sarah.
The man blinked several times and then smiled at the girl.
“Just ignore me,” he told her. “I don't like elevators. It's perfectly safe, I'm sure.”
Sarah nodded silently and tightened her grip on the doctor's hand.
When the elevator finally stopped, she was led out into another long tunnel that looked big enough to drive a truck through. Dr. Suthers stopped and looked at her colleagues.
“I will take Sarah to her quarters and get her settled in. I think that she's a little overwhelmed right now, understandably so, and too many strangers gathered around her isn't helping with that. I'll meet you back in the main lab shortly.”
All of them nodded and murmured their agreement and they moved off as a group and disappeared down a side corridor.
The doctor looked down at Sarah again with a smile.
“There. Is that better, sweetie?”
“Um, I guess so,” Sarah replied. “Where are we going?”
The doctor began walking and the girl followed along.
“While you're here you've been given a lovely room of your own to stay in. Now, I know that you left home before you could pack any clothes, but don't worry. We have lots of new outfits for you and a bunch of toys as well. Plus, there are other kids living down here already. I'm sure that you'll make some new friends before you know it.”
Sarah was still very frightened, but the doctor seemed nice and her voice was quite soothing, and she finally worked up the courage to ask a question.
“Doctor Carol?” she said in her little voice.
“Yes Sarah? What is it?”
“Why am I here? I know my eyes look funny, but why did you have to bring me to this scary place? Why couldn't you have fixed me up at home?”
The woman sighed and shook her head.
“I didn't bring you here, sweetie. I don't think that you and the other special children here need to be isolated. Unfortunately, the government disagrees with me. But we've tried to make you and the other kids as comfortable as possible. And I promise you, as soon as we're able to do so, we'll send you back home to your mother. Okay?”
Sarah listened attentively. She could tell that the doctor believed what she was saying, but that didn't mean that it was true. But the girl didn't really have a say in the matter, so she just nodded and tried to smile.
“Okay, Doctor Carol. I hope it won't be too long.”
“So do I, Sarah. So do I.”
In the middle of the night, Sarah sat up suddenly in her little cubby hole and listened tensely. Something was nearby, snuffling and creeping through the ruins.
She looked over to where Bobby was lying and saw the faint gleam of his eyes in the darkness. He was already awake.
“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
“Shh,” he hissed. “Wait.”
They both strained their ears and tried to identify the source of the noises. A guttural voice suddenly grunted what sounded like a command. It was answered by another voice equally as harsh.
Sarah stiffened and growled under her breath.
Goblins, she thought with a mixture of hatred and fear. What are they doing here?
She looked at Bobby again and moved closer to him so that they could speak safely.
“It's goblins, isn't it?” he whispered, almost in her ear.
Sarah could hear how frightened he was and she tried to reassure him. If he bolted or did something foolish, he would be dead, and she might be next.
“Yes, I think so. Easy now, Bobby,” she told him calmly. “Breathe slowly. They can see very well at night and they hear like wolves. But unless we tip them off, they won't know that we're here. So relax and wait and they will pass us by.”
She listened as he let out a long, ragged breath and took in another.
They heard another scrap of conversation and Sarah put a hand on Bobby's shoulder and squeezed. She felt his body trembling.
She cou
ld just see him in the shadows and she saw him nod in response to her gesture.
“Good,” Sarah said softly. “Good boy, Bobby. Patience is key.”
Both of them settled down and waited. Now that she was sure Bobby wouldn't panic, Sarah could focus on the threat more intently. She heard several other goblin voices further away and realized that they were searching through the ruins for something. But what could it be?
The goblin armies had swept up from what had once been the United States several years before. At first, just a few scouts were spotted by Sarah and the other Changlings, and then actual groups of warriors.
They were horrible creatures. Short and muscular, the goblins wore scraps of rusted armor and carried swords and spears. They killed anything in their path, including animals, monsters and several unwary Changlings who had foolishly gotten in their way. To Sarah, they were like locusts, devouring everything they found as they advanced.
Worst still, the goblins produced the occasional magic-user, including wizards. The human race, what was left of it, had only had one wizard, Simon O'Toole, and Sarah had no idea where he was, or if he was even still alive.
Fortunately, the goblins did have a few weaknesses. They did not like to operate out of doors during the day. In fact, direct sunlight seemed to hurt them and they preferred to hide underground when it was light outside, digging temporary subterranean bases in every region they traveled through.
Also, the average goblin wasn't very intelligent. They elevated the cleverest of their kind to leadership roles and followed their orders with mindless obedience. The highest ranked goblins were naturally the magic-users, because using spells required a certain level of cleverness and a keen mind.
And finally, the goblins hated water. Absolutely loathed it. They couldn't swim and would not even attempt to use boats to cross deep rivers or the oceans. They even refused to travel when it rained, and it was this strange aversion that had so far kept the northern parts of the world, including much of Canada, safe from being overrun by the hordes.
The Changlings (The New Earth Chronicles Book 2) Page 1