Colony - Blood Kin (Colony Series Book 3)

by Gene Stiles

  “Still, Guel,” she responded, showing her displeasure in the sharpness of her tone, “you are the leader of the Clan. You have a child to think of as well as the welfare of the Izon.”

  “It is done. Leave it at that,” he growled. “Besides, we shall all be gone before the coming of light.”

  “I do not have to like it though.” Haleah peered into cloaking darkness toward the direction of the city as if to lift the veil of blackness beyond. A tremor cascaded down her lithe body causing the hair at the nape of her neck to bristle. “I feel as if a grave danger nips at our heels.”

  Guel followed the line of her sight but saw not the slightest trace of movement. “There is always danger. We have lived with it all of our lives. This is nothing new,” he said. “As long as we hear the chirping of night bugs we know we are alone.”

  As if waiting ominously for those very words, the world went coldly, deathly still.

  Gliding just above the ground like specters of death, a troop of silver-suited warriors sped in their direction. Light blossomed all around them reflecting off the shiny barrels of their weapons.

  “Run,” Haleah screamed, killing the perimeter wards and smashing her fist into the control panel. The remaining Izon bolted into the night in every direction. Lightning blazed across the landscape accompanied by shrieks of pain and terror. The Aam fired indiscriminately into the fleeing bodies, cutting men, women and children into bloody pieces, leaving smoldering corpses littering the ground. Pandemonium reined throughout the compound as sliver-suited killers chased the Izon through the maze of alleys between the stone buildings.

  Guel leaped into the air, his powerful arm whipping around the neck of a soldier. Howling in animalistic rage, his other arm swept his blade in a vicious arc that nearly severed the head from the shoulders. “Izon! Izon!” he yelled, throwing himself into the two Aam that spun in his direction. He bowled them over, tumbling along the ground. Springing to his feet, his weapon disemboweled one man and sliced the hand off the other. He dove around the corner of a rock wall, a beam of milky white turning the stone to mush above his head. Hot, burning droplets of molten lava sprayed his skin. Guel rolled along the dirt and grass, trying desperately to squelch the fire of singed firs.

  Coming to his feet, he found himself face to face with the barrel of weapon. His blade lost in the dirt, he knew he had but a fraction of a moment to live. The radiance of the beam nearly blinded him, cutting a swath of fire along the wall at his side. Fighting for sight, he heard the crunch of breaking bones and heavy breathing. Guel shook his head to clear the mist from his eye, surprised that he still stood.

  “Guel, run! Find Sheel!” Haleah picked up the weapon, gripped his arm and dragged him along behind her. “There are many more. Too many to fight. We must get away!”

  Around them, the sounds of battle echoed in the compound and the field beyond. Warriors of the Clan clashed with the Aam of the People in a desperate effort to slow the slaughter of their kin and give them time to flee to safety. Haleah and Guel ran to where the women of the Izon had last been seen. Leaping over charred and bloody bodies, the two sprinted to a small grove, spotting women and children ripping through the trees. Identification was impossible in the chaos.

  Still moving, Guel shouted, “Sheel! Sheel!”

  “Here!” came the reply. Sheel stopped her flight near the trunk of massive tree, drawing in ragged breaths of warm air. On her back, Trull hung in his pack, crying with terror. Guel threw his bloody arms around her, tears of relief cascading down his dirty face. “My love, my love,” he mumbled.

  “We cannot stop, Guel.” Haleah gripped his shoulder, turning him around. He saw the Aam spread out around the valley, herding the surviving clan members back toward the compound. As yet, none seemed to be heading in their direction. “Our luck will not hold for long.”

  Guel nodded, pushing Sheel before him through the trees. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as a few Aam separated from the rest and moved toward them. “Hurry.”

  They bounded through the night, their passage lost in the noises of battle and surrender. No matter how fast they ran, the Aam were quickly closing the gap. No words were spoken, each gulp of air needed to fill tortured lungs. All too soon, the protection of the grove gave way to a wide swath of meadow, leaving them exposed to their pursuers. Darkness was not only their only friend, but also their deadliest foe, feet tripping on unseen roots and rocks.

  So focused was he on the men behind him that Guel was caught unaware by the Aam that suddenly appeared before him. Skidding to a halt, he tumbled to the ground, and came to a stop just out of reach of the man who blocked his path.

  “Foolish animal,” Marcus stated coldly in the language of the Clan. “We have treated you well. You have had all you need. Why would you try to leave your protectors?”

  Guel rose slowly to his feet, gauging the distance between them. Staring at the barrel pointed carelessly in his direction, he knew he would not be able to reach Marcus before that beam would cut him in half. “We are not animals. We are men.”

  Marcus flipped his hand as if to brush away a fly. “You have all you need.”

  “We need our freedom.” Sheel stood stock still to his left, but of Haleah, there was no sign. Guel tried to move a little closer, seeing the weapon rise in his direction.

  “I would not do that,” Marcus sneered. “Turn around and head back…”

  A blur of motion caught the edge of his vision and Marcus fired. The beam went wide and Haleah slammed into his midsection, the weapon spinning off into the darkness. Marcus rolled with the blow, his doubled up feet impacting Haleah with force enough to drive the air from her lungs, flinging her over to tumble in the thick grass. He leaped to his feet and dove in the direction of the rifle.

  Guel charged across the meadow, a deep growl rumbling between clenched lips. Marcus came up in a crouch, firing from the hip. Guel twisted his body in midair, his thick furs igniting in a burst of flame. He fell to the ground, ripping the burning mass from his body. Regaining his footing, he bunched his powerful leg muscles preparing to resume the attack.

  “Do not move.” Marcus stood with legs spread, panting heavily, training his weapon on Guel. Haleah sought to divert him by dividing his attention. “No, no,” he said, motioning her to move closer to Guel. “I do believe you two have outlived your usefulness. You are more trouble that you are worth. Time to end this.”

  Haleah knew there was no chance, still she would not just stand and die. She threw herself wide, putting space between her and Guel, hoping to give him an opening with her life. She heard the click of a trigger being pulled and knew it was over.

  “What?” she heard Marcus exclaim. Coming to her feet, she saw him staring dumbly at his weapon, pulling the trigger over and over when it refused to fire. Balling her fists, she strolled almost causally to stand before him. “Let us see how tough you are without your toys,” she stated coldly.

  A horrific howl of unimaginable agony ripped through the black, night air. It smashed into Haleah like a blizzard, freezing the blood in her veins, stunning her where she stood. Guel flew past her, knocking her aside like a twig. He tore the useless rifle from Marcus, driving his hardened shoulder into the man’s gut. Marcus hit the ground like a stone, rolled and struggled to stand. Guel kicked him in the jaw with all of his strength, hearing bones crack and shatter. Without pause, he landed knees first on the prone man’s chest. His massive arms smashed gnarled fists down with such force they pulped the face beneath him into a bloody mass is a single stroke. Still, he hammered down, wailing in madness, until the body quit jerking in its death throes.

  Haleah, shocked at the sound and violence, did not see the crumpled body steaming in the grass at first. “No!” she cried, dropping to her knees next to Sheel. The right side of her friend’s face was mostly gone, the rest blackened and smoldered in the warm night air. “No! No! No!” She lifted the still form into her lap, cradling the ruins in her lap. A whimpering cry knifed t
hrough her dulled mind. “Trull.” Haleah gently lifted Sheel and removed the baby from her back. She held him tightly to her, still wrapped in the furs of the pack and rose to stand in the trampled grass.

  “Oh, Sheel,” Guel wept, falling down beside her. “My love, my love.” He held the lifeless body to his chest, rocking on his knees.

  Numbed, Haleah stared into the distance. Some part of her seemed to wither and die. Still it registered in another part of her brain that the Aam were nearing where they sat. She shook her head to clear the fog and touched Guel on the shoulder. “Guel, you must go. Go now.”

  “I cannot,” he murmured. “I must stay with her. There is no reason left to leave.”

  “Your son, Guel. Take him to safety. There is little time left.”

  “I cannot leave her here alone.”

  “This is my fault. I will stay with her,” Haleah whispered softly. “Get your son away from this cursed land. Let him live free. This is what Sheel would have wanted. Go, Guel. Go now.”

  Forcing himself to his feet, Guel took Trull in his arms, staring down at his love. With a last, silent look at Haleah, he slipped into the darkness.

  Haleah sat down in the damp grass, holding tightly to the woman in her lap, running her fingers through the tangles of black hair. She barely noticed when a short time later a mountain of a man stopped before her, the other Aam encircling her and her charge.

  Iapetus stared at the pulverized body of Marcus and motioned for the Aam to pick him up. He took hold of Haleah’s arm, attempting to bring her to her feet. “Come,” he rumbled.

  “Not without her,” Haleah stated flatly.

  Iapetus nodded, lifting the body into his arms. “Come,” he said again, turning back toward the city.

  Chapter VI

  “What happened?” Cronus growled, nearly cracking the dark wood of the table with his fist. “We lost eight of our Aam against a pack of unarmed animals.” His emerald green eyes flashed like lightning, his red hair a halo of fire surrounding his head. The cords of his powerful arms stood out like cables of borithium as he leaned on his bunched knuckles. His burning gaze locked on Iapetus sitting at the far end of the table like a statue of granite, arms crossed over his mighty chest, his long, black hair trussed tightly at the back of his bull-like head. Iapetus held his black eyes steady, impervious to the fury of Cronus.

  “They were not unarmed,” he replied, his deep voice reverberating like quiet thunder in the chamber. “They had knives and spears. Where they got them I do not know.”

  Cronus huffed. “Knives and spears against plasma rifles. Highly trained warriors against fur-covered animals. This should not have been a contest.”

  “They are warriors of a different breed,” Iapetus countered. “They have survived for millennium against dangers we have yet to imagine. You give them too little credit, Cronus. Besides, many of the rifles refused to fire.”

  “Why?”

  “I believe I can answer that.” Thorina rose from her seat at the side of the room, striding over with the grace of a dancer, her flaming red hair fanning out behind her. “We are almost out of power. Like the ore that sustains our ship engines, the cores supplying our guns are dying. If we do not replenish our supplies within five years, maybe six, not only will our weapons fail but, we will not be able to maintain most of our technological equipment.”

  “Maybe we should learn more from these Izon,” Hyperion quipped. His long legs sprawled out before him. He leaned back in his chair and folded his long, thin fingers behind his head, a mischievous grin playing beneath his straight, sharp nose. His long, tightly curled, black hair flowed over his broad shoulders, cascading down behind him. “They seem to do well without all this froufrou.”

  Cronus pinned him to his seat with daggers in his eyes. “Men are dead because of these animals. You would do well to learn when to keep your stupid opinions to yourself.”

  Hyperion dismissed him with a wave of his hand, but remained silent.

  The council gathered around the long oval table made of dark, polished wood that had replaced the borithium one once here. Rhea sat next to Cronus, her face covered by her honey-blond hair as she bowed her head in her hands. The twins, Thea and Themis, huddled over a stack of papers in quiet conversation. The other members, Oceanus and Tethys, Coeus, his wife, Phoebe, and the youngest brother of Cronus, Crius, waited silently to hear the rest of the information presented.

  “If not for their strong backs,” Iapetus rumbled, taking his seat, his voice dripping with distain, “I would see these creatures gone. As we have seen, they are inherently dangerous. I do not like them near our children.”

  Tethys shook her head, at him in utter disgust. “Maybe if they were treated more as people than as animals they would not have wished to run. How many of you have taken the time to get to know them better? They are not all that different from us.”

  “They are far different than us!” Cronus roared, stunning the gathering with his venom. “We are as gods compared to them. Their short lives held nothing but violence and death before we awoke. They grub in the dirt for food; can barely understand simple commands; hump each other like murcats in heat. They are stupid and dirty. We are nothing like them!”

  “Why do you hate them so?” Rhea almost whispered.

  Cronus graced her with a stare that would have withered a spring flower. “I do not hate them. I simply see them for what they are, a primitive species that is a poor parody of a man.”

  “It does seem though,” Coeus interjected, “that we will need these parodies even more for a while. Their continuing labor will keep the strain off our resources while we search for other sources of power. How many did we lose?”

  “We counted fifteen dead,” Iapetus said flatly. “About fifty escaped into the night. Roughly thirty are left, mostly women, children and the infirm.”

  “That is not nearly enough, even as fast as these things breed,” Cronus said. “Iapetus, find the others and return them to the compound. Now!”

  “No!” Oceanus stood, resting the knuckles of his massive hands upon the shining wood. His boulder-like head, bereft of the smallest trace of hair, glistened in the defused light of the room. The corded muscles and tendons of his giant arms stood in high relief as if he were about to spring forward. “That is enough! Have we lowered ourselves so far that we accept slavery as a necessity? The Izon are children of the Creator as are we. They have families and young. They take care of their elders and the sickly. They are smart enough to do our bidding.”

  “How dare you think you are so far above them, Cronus?” His near-black eyes met the flashing green eyes of his brother, unscathed by the flames he saw there, matching fire for fire. Oceanus met the eyes of his council members, spearing each of them with his fury. “How dare any of you?”

  “I dare because I am the Lord Father!” Cronus shouted, sparks of rage crackling around him as if he bathed in the aftermath of lightening. He rose to full height, staring down at his shorter brother. “It is I who command the Aam! It is I who speak for the People and do what I must for them! How dare you speak to me in such a fashion?”

  “You do not speak for all of us,” Oceanus seethed, sweeping his arm over the table. “We are all equals here! We all speak for the People! You are only in command at the concordance of this council!”

  The two brothers glared at each other with such venomous rage it appeared they would leap over the table and tear into each other at any moment. The rest of the council sat speechless, bewildered, astonished, and loath to be a recipient of their ferocity.

  Their battle was broken as the wide wooden doors of the council chamber exploded inward, bouncing with a thunderclap off the stone walls. A black-clad fury strode into the stunned and silent room.

  “Where is Haleah?” Morpheus demanded, his long, wavy hair flowing behind him in a black cloud. He stalked to the table, planting his muscular legs like tree trunks. His thick, hard body shook and his black eyes flashed like lightning.
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br />   Iapetus raised himself up from his seat like a tidal wave. “How dare you intrude on this council!” he bellowed. He took two steps before Rhea stayed him with a word.

  She rose to her feet and moved to Morpheus amid the murmurs and stares. “What seems to be the problem, my friend?” she spoke softly.

  Fighting to contain himself, Morpheus buried his balled fists into his hips. His nostrils flared and a muscle in his cheek ticked. “I have word that she was captured and arrested for helping the Izon.” Burrowing chips of fire into Cronus, he growled, “What have you done with her?”

  Cronus rose to meet his gaze, flames dancing in his eyes. “If it is true she was the one who destroyed the perimeter wards and allowed the animals to escape, she should be arrested. Thank you for that information.” He turned to Iapetus. “Find her.”

  “Knowing her love of them,” Tethys added gently, her tenderness meant to soften the tension, “she probably went with them.”

  “This she would not do without telling me so,” Morpheus fired back.

  “So you are telling the council you had prior knowledge that she would do this?” Cronus asked quietly, the menace in his voice barely hidden in the stillness of the room.

  Suddenly Morpheus realized the deadly bog he in which he had just mired himself. Treading carefully, choosing his next words with caution, he replied, “Of course not. I am of the Aam. Nevertheless, Haleah and I are very close. She may – and I say may – have aided in the escape of the Izon, but she would not have gone without at least leaving word.”

  “I see,” Cronus stated noncommittally. “Then I am sure you will inform the council if she should contact you.”

  Knowing he could say no more without jeopardy, Morpheus nodded only, “Of course.”

  “Thank you,” Cronus nodded. “You are dismissed.”

  After Morpheus trudged angrily out of the room and the doors were closed once again, Cronus turned his attention back to the council. “The rest of you, come up with plans to find more ore for alternative power and how we are to feed and house the People. We shall meet again in one week. One week.” Cronus bore his eyes into each person in the room, resting his gaze on Oceanus. “I want answers by then. Dismissed.”