Definitely Not Kansas (Nocturnia Book 1)

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Definitely Not Kansas (Nocturnia Book 1) Page 8

by Thomas Monteleone

A chill rippled through Emma and she reached out for Ryan’s hand without thinking. “I don’t like this place.”

  “That makes two of us. What do we do?”

  “I wish I knew,” she said, looking around. She felt more than a little dizzy from lack of food. “I’m so hungry I can’t think.”

  Ryan stepped close to the curb, scanned the street in both directions. His bearing was almost military, like one of those World War II generals. All he was missing was a pair of binoculars.

  “Look!” he said, pointing to a shop on the far corner. “A bakery.”

  Again, he’d put himself on a mission and wasn’t going to be deterred. Emma could only fall into step and behind her brother as he hurried along the sidewalk. Halfway up the block, they passed the man with the brains. His strange shambling gait didn’t move him along too quickly so they left him in their wake.

  As soon as they reached the shop, Ryan darted inside and Emma followed. The mixed aromas of chocolate and vanilla and baking cakes enveloped her, causing another rush of saliva. She noticed the pale, thin couple they’d seen earlier. The woman had been giggling to her companion until she saw Emma; she stopped and locked on her with a cold gaze. It chilled Emma, urging her to turn and run from the premises, but the pull of the goodies was stronger.

  “Hey, look – free cookies!” Ryan was pointing at a serving platter on the counter with a sign saying Take One.

  Emma cringed as she watched him scoop up a handful of macaroons. Behind the counter, the clerk’s yellow eyes widened as he glared at Ryan. Then, lightning-quick, he reached out and grabbed Ryan’s arm.

  “Just one, sonny!”

  Twisting Ryan’s wrist, the clerk ignored the cookies falling free to the floor – he was staring at her brother’s palm.

  “You one of those?” he said, his expression registering disgust.

  “Who? What?” Ryan cried, sounding near panic.

  “You goofy nocarns. Shavin’ your palms like that?”

  “Shave my–?” Ryan shook his head. “Are you crazy?”

  The clerk stroked his smooth, hairless palm.

  “Hey!” he cried. “We’ve got ourselves a human here!”

  A human? There it was again. Why–?

  Couldn’t worry about that now. Her brother needed her.

  As Ryan struggled to free himself, Emma moved in to help. She grabbed the nearly empty cookie platter and slammed it against the clerk’s arm. He grunted and loosened his grip enough for Ryan to break free. She didn’t have to tell him to run. They both dashed for the door. Along the way she noticed that the strange woman and her boyfriend were gone.

  She felt the cool air brush her cheeks as she ran with her brother onto the darkened street. Ryan veered left, back the way they’d come, but Emma pulled him to the right. No police back that way. They had to go farther into town.

  “Stop them!” the clerk cried from inside.

  Two men wearing flannel shirts and hunting vests stepped out of a bar and turned their way.

  “Here, what’s this?” one of them said, eyeing them. “What’ve you pups done?”

  Emma and Ryan skidded to a halt, but Ryan was slightly in the lead, and the second man nabbed him. Emma hesitated, unsure of what to do, when she was grabbed by the shoulder and spun around by an unseen hand. Looking up, she found herself staring into the red-rimmed eyes of the pale woman, who smiled at her.

  “Get your hands off me!” Emma yelled, trying to pull away.

  But the woman was too strong. She leaned closer, her breath sickly sweet as she parted her lips to reveal petite, but very sharp fangs glistening with saliva. The sight froze Emma for a heartbeat. She’d heard of people who wanted to be vampires, who went so far as sharpening their teeth, but she’d never expected to see one up close.

  Emma struggled to pull free but the woman had a grip of iron, and drew her close as if to kiss her on the cheek or neck.

  “No! Let me go!”

  “A long time since I’ve tasted fresh–”

  Just then the clerk burst from the store.

  “Oh, good! You’ve got them. The boy’s a human, and I’ll bet the girl is too!”

  “Human?” said the two hunters in unison.

  “Human?” said a raspy third voice.

  Emma looked and saw the gaunt man with the package of brains lurch toward them. In his eagerness he knocked into one of the hunters – the one not holding Ryan – almost spinning him around from the impact.

  The hunter wheeled on the man, his expression dark with rage. “Hey, you idgit! Watch where yer goin’!”

  The man with the brains stopped and stared. Instead of apologizing or simply moving on, he glared at the hunter and said nothing. This seemed to infuriate the hunter even more.

  “We don’t need you clumsy, stinkin’ rotters ’round here.” He poked the gaunt man in the chest. “Why don’t you all go back where you came from? I might even be willin’ to pay yer way back to Necrotia meself.”

  The woman with the sharpened teeth seemed distracted by the scene but, despite Emma’s struggles, wouldn’t let Emma go.

  Her companion, standing off to the side, said, “He’s got a right to be here, just as we do.”

  Still saying nothing, the man with the brains shoved the hunter with his free hand.

  “Oh, no,” said the clerk. “Don’t start anything here. Not in front of my–”

  That was as far as he got before the growl drowned him out.

  Emma couldn’t believe it, but the hunter was growling at the brain-guy – a gut-churning animal sound that reminded her of the snarls in the woods. Then the hunter’s shoulders hunched as fur started to sprout from the back of his neck, from his outstretched arms. His wide yellow eyes glared at the man who had shoved into him.

  Emma gasped as the first hunter, still gripping Ryan with one hand, grabbed his buddy with the other, roughly pulling him away from the gaunt man. The enraged hunter, shaggy arms dangling, sucked in deep breaths, slowly regaining control of himself.

  Emma knew she had to simply accept what she’d seen, what had just happened. The guy, he’d been changing into a… no, that couldn’t be. But all that hair sprouting… he was like some kind of werewolf – a real werewolf. And if he was a real werewolf, then this woman holding her could be a real–

  Emma screamed. She couldn’t help it. And she screamed again as she noticed that the gaunt rotty man had resumed his rocking, awkward gait toward her.

  “Human?” he rasped.

  Ryan broke free from his distracted captor then and careened around the gaunt man toward Emma.

  “Let her go!” he cried as he charged the woman holding her.

  He’d almost reached them when her companion moved, darting toward Ryan. As if sensing the guy from behind, Ryan spun quickly, swinging a fist toward the man’s face. But the man was quick and intercepted the attack, grabbing Ryan’s arm.

  He smiled, revealing teeth as sharp as his girlfriend’s. “Not so fast, little–”

  He suddenly stiffened, his smile fading as he stared at the thick bracelet encircling Ryan’s wrist.

  “Falzon!” he cried.

  The word froze the woman, the bakery clerk, the gaunt man, and both hunters as they all gazed at the bracelet with terrified expressions.

  What are they so afraid of? Emma wondered.

  “You’re mistaken!” the clerk said.

  The companion shook his head and dropped Ryan’s arm. “No, no! They’re Falzon’s!”

  In an instant, the woman released Emma and backed away, retreating behind her companion.

  “Call the police,” one of the hunters told the clerk. “Now! Maybe there’s a reward!”

  Emma cut through the moment, pulling Ryan away.

  “Run!”

  They ran. Emma ran harder than she’d run in the woods, like the hounds of hell were on their tail – because, for all she knew, after what she’d just seen, they just might be.

  Behind her, people were shouting and yel
ling. As they cleared the corner, the wail of a siren echoed through the streets. And still they ran.

  To her left she spotted a slot between two darkened storefronts – an alley.

  “There!”

  She pulled Ryan toward it. She didn’t know what lay ahead there in the dark, but it couldn’t be worse than what was behind them.

  When they spun into the deeper darkness of the passageway, they slowed, unable to see. She heard Ryan grunt as he slammed into something ahead of them. That same something reached out to her and the dark became darker, and then darkest, and Emma knew no more.

  Part Four

  Master Simon had a Farm…

  12

  Morning…at least Ryan thought it was morning. He kept his eyes closed. Sunlight was coming from somewhere and he didn’t want it to wake him. He had a terrible headache… needed sleep and wanted to return to dreamland… as long as it wasn’t to the same awful dream he’d been having. So real. Vampires and werewolves and–

  He bolted upright in bed – and not his bed. He wasn’t even sure it was a bed at all. More like a bunch of hay on a platform covered by a ratty blanket. He looked around. Sunlight streaming through the slatted windows revealed other platforms with hay and blankets, all empty. It had the look of an old barn – worn, weathered, with a damp, unpleasant odor.

  Someone very important was missing: Emma. Just as he was about to call out, a boy’s voice spoke behind him.

  “So you’re up then? Good thing, else I was gonna have to wake you.”

  Ryan whirled and saw a boy of about his age, maybe a couple of years older, dressed in a coarse brown shirt and pants. He had dark brown hair and even darker eyes. Ryan looked at him uncomprehendingly.

  “Who are you? Where am I? Where’s my sister?”

  The boy smiled. “I’m Dillon, you’re at Armagost Farm, and your sister’s with Amelia.”

  Ryan’s head spun as last night came back to him, a riot of images and sounds and sensations cascading through his brain.

  That hunter-type grabbing him, the second hunter bumped by the dead-looking guy and getting so worked up about it that he starts growling and sprouting hair. The lady with sharp teeth, the fear of their bracelets, running into the alley, and then…

  And then what?

  A funny smell and then waking up with his hands bound behind him, feeling Woozy, disoriented. The vehicle hissing to a stop and him realizing he’s in Ergel’s truck again… seeing a high fence and a gate illuminated by floodlights. Over the gate, an arch bearing the words Armagost Farm – A Division of Fleichman Industries.

  The rear panel of the truck suddenly falling open and the sound of a familiar guttural voice.

  "Welcomes to yer new home, brats."

  “A farm?”

  “Amelia will explain everything.”

  “Who’s Amelia?”

  The boy smiled again, showing big white teeth – no points, thankfully. “She’ll explain that too.”

  He waved for him to follow, so Ryan did just that. He felt his stomach trying to fold in upon itself. He’d never believed being hungry could feel this bad. Dillon led him into a hall where they passed a doorway that opened into a room similar to the one he’d just left. The hall led to an open room filled with long wooden tables lined with chairs. Two figures sat at a table in the corner. Ryan recognized the smaller of the pair.

  “Emma!”

  She turned and waved. “Over here! There’s food! Sort of.”

  Dillon tapped him on the shoulder. “I have to go to work. See you in the fields.”

  Fields? Ryan thought as he wound his way around the tables toward Emma.

  When he reached her, the old woman seated beside her smiled at him. A strange, bushike assemblage of cloth and wire, maybe four feet high, sat nearby.

  “This is Amelia,” Emma said. “We saved you breakfast.” She gestured to a bowl of gray sludge, a thick slice of bread, and a mug of water.

  Ryan felt touched by their thoughtfulness. Even though the gruel looked inedible, he was so hungry he knew he could eat just about anything that wasn’t still moving. And even then…

  He snatched up the piece of bread and took a bite. Not bad.

  Emma said, “Amelia’s been telling me about this place.”

  Something funny about her voice. Ryan took a closer look and noticed her wet, red-rimmed eyes.

  Her lower lip trembled. “No way. But you know when you said yesterday that we definitely weren’t in Kansas? You were way too right. We’re not even on Earth!”

  Ryan choked back a laugh. That was crazy. It couldn’t–

  “Those were not my words,” Amelia said. “We are on Earth, but it is a different Earth than the one where we were born.”

  Ryan swallowed. “‘We’?”

  Amelia nodded. “I too crossed over. A long time ago. I was trying to fly around the world when I ran into a strange storm. My plane was buffeted all about and when I came through the clouds, I had to make an emergency landing. A crash landing, really, and my co-pilot was killed. I crawled away from the wreckage and people from here found me. I learned I was – and still am – in a place called Nocturnia.”

  “You’re a pilot?” he said.

  “Well, I was…a long time ago. Since I’ve been here, I was running… well… a kind of railroad.”

  “Here? At this place?” He hadn’t noticed and railyards or tracks.

  “It’s a long story,” said Amelia. “Better for another time.”

  “If you say so.” Ryan considered what else she’d told him as he dropped onto one of the benches. “I’m still confused. This… Nocturnia… it looks just like–”

  “No. Not just like our world.” Amelia shook her head. “It’s not. Things here are different, as I’m sure you’ve already seen, but you’ve barely scratched the surface. Nocturnia differs from Humania in many unseen ways as well.”

  “Humania?”

  “That’s what the locals call the place we came from. Humans are not native to this world, just as Nocturnians have no place in our world. Occasionally, through some quirk in nature, someone from one world will cross over to the other, as I did.”

  “There was no ‘quirk’ for us,” Emma said. “We were kidnapped.”

  Amelia nodded. “Yes, I’ve been hearing about that. Humans are bred here for slaves and…” her eyes shifted away… “worse. They’re always looking for new breeding stock.”

  Despite the word “slave” and the old woman’s ominous tone, Ryan was still trying to get his head around the whole idea of a different world.

  “Wait. Let me get this straight: This is Earth, but not Earth?”

  “What I have gleaned over the years is that Nocturnia and Humania occupy the same space but in different universes or dimensions. Separate, overlapping realities. As I said, sometimes the barrier between them thins to the point where things can cross over.”

  “Well, if that’s true,” Emma said, brightening, “then there’s a chance we can cross back!”

  Amelia shook her head. “Don’t torture yourself, dear. ‘Rips’ – as they call them – are rare. The odds of your being present at the exact moment an opening occurs are too extreme. It will never happen. Resign yourself to the fact you are here to stay.”

  Emma’s eyes filled again. “Forever?”

  “For as long as you live, which can be a very long time. Time passes differently here.”

  Ryan had lost his appetite. “Our whole lives… as slaves?”

  She gave him a stern look. “No, not as slaves.” Her gaze darted right and left. “There are… options. Many of the humans, especially those born here, look at slavery as having food and shelter and a safe place to sleep. Considering the alternative, it could be worse.”

  “What could be worse than being a slave?”

  Amelia looked at him. “You could be dinner.”

  Emma gasped, remembering the guard’s “lunch” remark yesterday. “What?”

  “Humans are a major food s
ource on Nocturnia.”

  “But you stay here,” Ryan said.

  “Only in the hope of finding young ones like you. Your humanity’s hope here on Nocturnia.”

  “But–”

  A loud bang! behind them made Ryan jump and turn. Ergel stood there glaring at them. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, including the tall white pith helmet, but now the tinted goggles were down over his eyes. He’d slammed the handle of what looked like a whip down on one of the tables.

  “Ain’t they acclimitated yet?” he called in his gravelly voice.

  “Not quite,” Amelia said. “But very soon.”

  “Well, hurry it up then or there’ll be hell to pay. We’se behind quota and these two brats has already causated me a peck of trouble. I needs them workin’ or we’se all be hearin’ it from Master Simon.”

  “Just a few more minutes, Mister Ergel. We don’t want them crushing the blossoms, do we.”

  “Theys damn well better not, or youse’ll sufferate for it, crone.”

  “Fool,” Amelia said under her breath as he stormed out.

  Ryan said, “Was that a whip he was carrying?”

  She nodded. “He calls it ‘Bessie.’ It’s got ten short lashes and he uses it any chance he gets. Trolls are cruel by nature.”

  “Trolls?” Emma said. “I know he looks like one but–”

  “He’s the real thing, make no mistake. His parents emigrated from Trollheim when he was a baby and he’s been living here ever since.”

  “He’s not the only strange one,” Emma said. “We saw these weird-looking wolves in the woods last night. They chased down a man and–” She shook her head, unable to finish.

  “You’re lucky you weren’t seen, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. That was an illegal hunt and they wouldn’t want any witnesses.”

  “Illegal?” Ryan said.

  “The lycans have rules.” She held up a hand. “And before either of you echoes, ‘Lycans?’ let me explain that you are in a country called Lycanthum. It occupies a continent that corresponds to North America back home. It is populated by werewolves who–”

  “We know!” they cried in unison.

  Amelia’s smile was wry. “Now you’re echoing each other. Just listen: Nocturnia is populated by creatures that would seem to have sprung from human nightmares: werewolves, vampires, zombies, trolls, the sasquatch, and creatures not so easily described. Each species has staked out its own territory, and many have created nation states just like back home.”

 

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