Fall of Darkness
(The Shore of Monsters, book 2)
David J. Nix
Published by David J. Nix at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 David J. Nix
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.
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Chapter 1
Darkness embraced Alexandra with equal parts malice and pity. Golden moonlight struggled through a thick canopy of trees, casting sharp pools of moon glow onto the otherwise lightless forest floor. The young girl stumbled from pool to pool, repeatedly suffering gouges and bruises from unseen tree limbs and stones as she fled. She barely minded the abuse, however. It was a small price to pay for the welcome cover of blackness sheltering her from horrific creatures that gave chase. Despite ragged breathing, Alexandra could hear clearly the progress of her pursuers as they crashed through the forest with unearthly howls and grunts, driven wildly by a lust for her blood.
“How stupid am I?” she wondered yet again. What had begun as a simple dare amongst big-eyed youngsters had rapidly descended into a headlong flight from death through a night-bound forest. She rebuked herself harshly for knowing better, yet not listening to the earnest voice inside that cried warning. With few exceptions, even the bravest of adults never entered the trees alone, and certainly never at night. Alexandra had violated both rules of common sense and now was paying the ultimate price. How could a twelve-year-old expect to elude the relentless hunt of Infected for the duration of an entire night? How could she find a path home from a pitch black place she had never been before?
Lungs exploding with pain, the girl rambled onward, the cacophony of pursuit drawing nearer. As hopelessness rose to strangle the girl, a vision of her recently dead mother sprang into her mind. “Run hard!” the vision exhorted, “Don’t stop! I did not raise you for a death like this.” Alexandra continued her flight, cobwebs of confusion giving way to a clearer head.
“Do what she taught you,” the girl challenged herself. Altering course, Alexandra bounded down a tilting hillside toward the rushing of a night covered stream. Halfway down the slope, a vine stretched up to snag her foot, sending her tumbling the remaining distance and depositing the battered girl into shallow frigid waters. Clambering to the bank, she pulled herself ashore while attempting to recapture breath stolen by a numbing current. Even over the stream’s raucous tumble, she could hear the scent-led pursuit as it veered down the dark incline toward her.
The moment of life-and-death decision arrived abruptly. While her logical mind struggled to choose the next action, Alexandra’s subconscious drove her into the water mere seconds ahead of certain capture. When the current reached thigh deep, it swept her from unsteady feet and carried the girl into blackness. Long moments of desperate struggle brought the winded, battered youngster to an overhanging root, and onto a dark bank. Across twenty feet of tumbling water the Infected leaped about in utter darkness, howling frustration at the deadly liquid that separated them from the blood they so desired.
Alexandra lay motionless on the bank as minutes passed, yet again catching her breath through chattering teeth and attempting to hold it in her lungs with frail arms wrapped tightly around a shivering torso. Warm liquid leaked into her eyes from a forehead cut opened by a boulder in the stream, where it mingled with salty tears. She wiped them both away. After a time, it was not the splashing of the Infected testing the water that pushed her into motion again, but rather a crash of underbrush from her side of the stream.
“Keep running,” said the memory of her mother. Crying now, Alexandra moved again, legs leaden from paralyzing cold that had invaded her muscles. Following the rise of a dark hill, she came to a sudden stop against a wall of boulders that rose above her reaching hands, illuminated by sparse moon beams. The soft noise of crushing leaves on the hillside below pushed her onward. She lurched along the rock wall, dragging her outstretched hand over an uneven surface in search of a way upward.
The sudden absence of rock threw the girl off balance, and she tumbled into a void with a sprawl. The fall lasted only a second before her hands struck smooth stone and she slid to a halt. Turning quickly to face the opening, she found herself sitting inside a black cocoon with only the lesser dark of outside marking the opening of what appeared to be a tiny cavern. Soft crunching sounds outside her unintended shelter forced Alexandra’s hands to her mouth to stifle a panicked cry. Trembling with renewed vigor, she waited as the unmistakable noise of shuffling feet drew closer, until a looming shadow blotted out the lesser darkness of the opening. Hope fled, along with all possibility of escape.
“I tried, mother,” she whispered aloud as defeated hands fell to her lap. Bowing her head, she waited for an inevitable, horrifying howl that would precede a gruesome death. The figure shuffled forward, sliding down the shallow incline, until its hot breath burrowed into her hair in short periodic bursts. She winced when its touch came, fearful and enraged all at once. Only when the moment passed did she realize that the creature had wiped away blood from her forehead.
Raising her head in surprise and defiance, Alexandra dared to stare at her pursuer, who stood bathed in near-darkness with the soft glow of moonlight whispering past his giant, fur-wrapped form. A sound emanated from the creature, low and sonorous, and echoed about the chamber before dying. The girl’s breath caught suddenly in her frozen chest as she grabbed the final fleeting residue of the sound, which proved more than just a grunt. It was a word, spoken by the creature before her – and not just any word. Alexandra’s head swam as she pondered the meaning of a mindless male not savaging her, but instead speaking the name of her dead mother.
Chapter 2
"For one hundred years the woman of the coastal islands beat back the fall of darkness, leveraging medical science to overcome the demise of men. That way of life was already fading in a slow death spiral when a naïve act of hope hastened the end of it. An ill-fated expedition from The Saints to find lost Refuge set in motion a chain of events that meant an end to life as the islanders knew it. It stirred a hornet’s nest that threatened certain extinction for all humanity. The forces that carried extermination around the world had spared the coastal settlements for generations. The reciprocal expedition from Refuge to The Saints brought those forces to renewed life, with dire and haunting consequences.”
Excerpt from “A History of the Last”
* * *
100 Years After
“Satellite images show us the way,” declared Kolkov. Sky stared at a large, ancient document unrolled beneath Kolkov’s hands on the deck of the bobbing boat. The fact that the document represented photographs taken a century earlier from tiny vessels spinning swiftly above the world boggled Sky’s mind. As unbelievable as the idea seemed, the pictures did not lie. Clearly shown were the Compass Islands, Long Island, and a vast expanse of heavily forested land beyond the shore. When Raven first gave the secret map to Sky, puzzling images baffled her. Even now, Sky felt very small and ignorant when confronted by the ancient, almost magical byproduct of mysterious technology. Ever the good soldier, Kolkov appeared undaunted. She quickly traced with an index finger a path on the map that showed the way to Haven by means of a winding river.
“We should encounter the river mouth soon,” Willow responded. “Flotsam and opposing currents tell me it lies near.”
The sailor proved correct, as usual. Within minutes the passengers began to discern the mouth of a river emptying its contents into the sound. A daylong journey south along Long Island and then north into a secluded bay had brought the expedition to this point. Willow piloted her boat into the rapidly narrowing river mouth, dual bio-motors thrumming with effort. The single sail would prove useless from here onward, and the boat would rely solely on the big motors and a wide, flat bottom to navigate the river. With the sun falling toward a mountainous horizon, the craft made steady progress against the slow-moving current of a snow-fed river. Sky and Otter sat near the bow, watching a shattered world slip by. What should have been a series of interconnected farm belts, according to photographs, was instead a thick, young forest of towering firs. Here and there the bones of dead civilization poked through dense foliage, quickly on their way to complete consumption by a ravenous forest.
“Once so mighty, yet so quickly gone,” Sky whispered to Otter. He looked up at the girl as if in comprehension. It would not be long before the boy recaptured his old vocabulary and began learning anew. She mussed his wild hair.
“At least no monsters yet,” she added with a smile. “We have challenges enough without monsters to complicate things.”
Sky quickly knocked on wood of the boat’s gunwale, while wondering how such a superstition had arisen.
“We drop anchor here,” Willow informed everyone a few minutes later. “Traversing an unfamiliar river at night would be inviting disaster. We can resume again at first light.”
The sailor’s apprentices dropped a heavy anchor into the water, and it finally caught the bed after a few staggering lurches that sent the two horses into rebellion against their tight tethers. Sky and Stone rushed to calm the spooked animals, a curious Otter in tow. The horses quieted quickly, and soon the temporary occupants of the boat were preparing for nightfall.
“How long from here?” Sky asked while tracing the river trail on the satellite image in rapidly fading light.
“Depends,” Kolkov replied. “The map says we can get close, maybe to within ten miles, before the river becomes impassable. However, these photographs are a hundred years old. The river may have changed course, or become blocked. We must simply continue until we can go no farther, and then ride from there.”
“Then let’s hope nothing much has changed in the last century,” laughed Clover, one of the young soldiers, as she eyed the shore nervously. “Perhaps we can complete our mission without encountering any monsters.”
Everyone nodded agreement but Sky. It was not that she disagreed with the soldier’s wish. She just knew better than to hope for anything improbable.
* * *
“This is as far as we go,” declared Willow. “The boat will run aground and foul its motor blades if we go any farther.”
Sky scanned the river ahead, eyes drawn to white water that marked a long stretch of shallow, rock-strewn riverbed. With a sigh, she began to resign herself to the reality of the remaining journey. Three and a half days of tedious travel up river had brought their boat to within fifteen miles of Haven. Progress had been painfully slow. The river wandered aimlessly, twice leading the boat into a false channel that forced Willow to backtrack. Even with spotters on the bow, the vessel had several times scraped unseen boulders and sand bars. A clot of fallen trees obstructed their progress for half a day while everyone took turns in numbing water breaking loose the log jam.
“There is still enough daylight remaining to make Haven well before dark,” decided Kolkov. “Time to saddle up and find the young man.”
Sky quivered. The plan called for Kolkov and her to ride horses to Haven to retrieve Anna’s notes and Thomas if either were still there. The mere mention of the young man’s name sent a trill through the girl’s soul and a flush to her face. Only Stone appeared to notice, and she gave a brief smile in response. While the soldiers saddled both horses, Sky and Stone helped the sailors drop a gangplank into now-shallow water.
“Move down river a few hundred yards to a wider, deeper part, and anchor there. We will return soon,” said Kolkov. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she added, “If we do not come back by sundown tomorrow, return to Refuge without us. By that point we are most likely dead.”
Willow nodded gravely while maintaining her boat steady against the current. Kolkov and Sky led their horses to the gangplank, and with help from others, forced the frightened creatures down the steep incline into the river. Her horse’s momentum dragged Sky into the water and she came up drenched and gasping for air against the cold, neck deep in a numbing current. Grabbing her horse’s tail, she let the beast carry them both toward shore, inadvertently swallowing great gulps of chilled river as she went. By the time Sky stumbled out of the water and collected her mount, Kolkov was astride her horse, waiting as if ready to embark on a pleasure ride.
“We must hurry,” the woman said. Sky nodded, and mounted her horse despite barely working, frigid fingers. Nudging the creature’s flanks with her shins, she caught up with an already moving Kolkov. The girl remembered with a little dismay that the last time she rode alone with the sergeant, it was at the outset of a deadly expedition to the Dark City that turned her world upside down. Sky bit her lip, hoping that this trip would not end so badly, but half expecting that it would.
Chapter 3
Anna’s Diary, 7 July, 23 Years After
“I found it today – the haven of my youth. The incredible rock wall painted with waterfalls beckoned from a distance, spurring me those last few miles when my strength had all but failed. In truth, had I known how harrowing my journey would be, I might have stayed in The Compass and found a quiet corner in which to work. No matter now. I am safe from the ignorant defensiveness of the Order. Free to think. Free to imagine. Free to contribute my remaining days to the work of finding a better cure. My task will be difficult, particularly with the loss of my mare to monsters several miles down the pass. The poor animal is likely just a pile of gnawed bones by now, an unceremonious end for a brave horse whose death allowed me to survive. I can never repay her, and for that I am sorrowful.
The timber lodge is still intact, almost exactly as I remember it. Unable to find an unlocked door or window, I was forced into blunt burglary with a large stone to gain entry. The last occupants stocked this place with food, fuel, and other critical supplies, and then locked it tightly. They probably meant to return, but likely fell victim to the Soul Death or the madness spawned by it. I gave silent thanks to whomever they were, lost now to the darkness of unrecorded history. Their belief in a future when all seemed lost has afforded me a fighting chance to fulfill their hope.”
Chapter 4
Even stony Kolkov could not contain her astonishment when confronted by the great cliff that shadowed Haven. Her eyes kept returning to the mammoth wall of rock as they approached the separatist community, much to Sky’s delight. The girl’s spirits soared, partly because the journey from the boat had proved uneventful, but primarily due to her fluttering enthusiasm for the prospect of reuniting with Thomas.
“There it is,” she uttered excitedly as the roof of the main lodge swam into view. Spurring her horse to a gallop, she impatiently covered the remaining distance, drawing up just as Rose stepped onto the lodge’s large, covered porch. A half-washed pot fell from the woman’s startled grip as she stared wide-eyed at the approaching girl. Leaping from her mount, Sky raced up the steps and threw herself into an embrace, one that the older woman quickly returned.
“Sky!” spilled the words from Rose’s lips as she pushed the girl to arm’s length. “I thought you were … Thomas said you were …”
“Dead? Well, clearly I am not!” Sky replied giddily. Rose shrieked with glee, and the two embraced anew. Other residents of Haven emerged from the house – Patience, Rain, and Rabbit – joining in a surprisingly tearful reunion. Only the clopping of Kolkov mounting porch steps interrupted the group embrace. All eyes stared warily, except for Rain’s. A veil of coal dust spread across her face as she glared at the soldier.
“What is she doing here?” Rain asked with barely disguised contempt.
“Nice to see you as well, runner,” Kolkov said in response. Sky glanced back and forth between the two, curious about the intensity of animosity between them. Then she thought about Thomas, and the circumstances of his departure. He left Refuge thinking that Kolkov had killed Sky with a blow to her skull. No wonder Rain’s reacted so belligerently!
“No, no! It’s not what you think!” Sky interceded. “Sergeant Kolkov saved my life!”
As Sky blurted the events that followed Thomas’ departure, the icy features of Rose, Patience, and Rabbit melted into uneasy trust. Rain, however, continued to glare.
“Well, then, Sergeant Kolkov,” said Patience finally, “you have our deepest gratitude for what you did. Welcome to Haven.”
Meanwhile, Sky craned her neck to peek through a window into the partially lit interior of the large house. Patience guessed the girl’s earnest motivation.
“He is not here,” the woman said. Sky glanced at Patience, and then her face fell to match a deflating posture.
“Oh,” the girl sighed. Sky’s pained reaction provoked Thomas’ mother to place an arm around the teenager’s shoulders.
“Come inside,” Patience said with as much warmth and comfort she could muster. “We should chat for a while. Things are not as dark as they seem.”
* * *
Kolkov inhaled chicken stew as if she had not eaten in a week. Despite an inviting fragrance, Sky only picked at the contents of her bowl, unable to generate much appetite. The immense anticipation of a reunion with Thomas had leaked away, leaving a vast emptiness in its place.
“So he only stayed a day before heading south with Anna’s notes and Laura’s journal,” Sky responded finally, in summary of the explanation from Patience. The older woman nodded, but said nothing.
“If that,” Rose offered. “He told us about everything that happened and of his mission to take Anna’s notes to – what did he call it?”
“The Saints,” replied Sky, eyes still downcast.
“That’s right,” said Rose. Patience peered at the depressed girl for a moment before offering a form of condolence.
“Thomas seemed anxious to get away from here,” she explained. “He prepared two horses and enough supplies for several weeks of travel. He barely looked at me the entire time.”
Patience stopped for a moment, wiping misting eyes, and then added, “I think he ran away to be alone with his grief.”
Sky glanced up, meeting Patience’s warm gaze.
“Grief?”
“Yes, Sky. He thinks you are dead. He is devastated beyond anything I have seen before. Despite that, my son plows ahead. His only means of holding on to you is to finish the mission you two shared. He does it to honor your memory.”
Kolkov glanced up from her bowl, and eyed the girl for a reaction, a wistful gleam in her seasoned eyes.
“So what do you make of that?” the soldier asked.
“I don’t know,” Sky responded, very confused. Kolkov smiled wryly.
“Well I do,” she said, wiping the corner of her mouth with a sleeve. The girl stared at Kolkov with fearful eyes, waiting for an explanation. The soldier leaned forward and gave it.
“He loves you, Sky,” she said simply. “Not like the way we love each other, but deeper. Like the way women and men used to love one another in Before times.”
“What does that mean?” Sky asked with surprise. Kolkov pursed her lips and shook her head.
“It means that in days to come you will experience the best and worst emotions you have ever felt. I just hope that you survive them.”
Sky looked doubtfully to Patience, Rose, and the others for confirmation of Kolkov’s proclamation, but they simply shrugged their shoulders. Then she gazed again at Kolkov, whose face betrayed a hint of tired wisdom. At that moment, Sky knew that Kolkov told the truth, and wondered how the woman knew.
* * *
Departure from Haven lay three hours in the past, but Rain’s parting words still echoed through Sky’s mind. After staying the night, Sky and Kolkov had risen at first light for their return to the boat. While Kolkov was saddling the horses, Rain had pulled the girl aside, out of the soldier’s earshot.
“You watch your back,” she warned. “Kolkov is not what she appears. Any trust in her will ultimately be repaid with treachery.”
“How do you know?” Sky asked.
“You remember that I spent years as a prisoner on Bridge Island before escaping,” Rain reminded. “I saw enough of the woman to know her intentions. She means no good. Trust me.”
The arrival of other residents had abruptly terminated their conversation, so Rain’s cryptic warning received no further explanation.
“You know this is the best course,” Kolkov said, intruding on Sky’s silent remembrance. “He has three days head start, a pair of horses, and years of experience traversing the land of monsters. We could never catch him.”
“I know,” Sky replied dejectedly. “Our best chance is to journey by sea, and hope that Thomas meets us at The Saints with Anna’s notes.”
Even as the words left her lips, Sky could not help but recognize doubt and defeat in her tone. Could Thomas really survive a treacherous journey of nearly a thousand miles through monster-infested forests and find a group of small islands that existed only in the words of a dead woman? And what if he died along the way? How could she spend the rest of her life with such a gaping hole in her heart? The pair traveled in silence for another fifteen minutes before Kolkov interrupted again.
“Look. On the hillside.”
Sky’s gaze followed Kolkov’s pointing finger, and her stomach turned to lead. Sweeping through a line of trees were an unknown number of Others on a trajectory to intercept the horses. Even as she stared in horror, howls of soulless killers began to reach her ears.
“Time to fly!” Kolkov shouted while spurring her horse into a gallop. Following suit, Sky leaned low against her horse’s neck, trying not to look at the approaching menace. The oncoming creatures reacted, changing their angle of pursuit to account for the increased speed of their prey.
“The rendezvous point is just ahead,” Kolkov shouted over her shoulder. “Just around this bend of the river. You lead!”
Sky raced her mount around Kolkov’s horse, venturing a backwards glance in the process. Movement told her that the monsters still pursued, but were falling behind. Looking forward, she began searching the river for Willow’s boat. Initial relief soon turned to panic when she recognized the site where the ship had anchored, but the vessel was nowhere to be seen.
“It’s not here!” she shouted.
“What? What do you mean?” responded the soldier.
“I mean it’s not here! The boat is gone!”
“Keep going, then! It must be down river!”
Following the bank, the two women pushed their huffing animals hard, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boat. When they did, Sky’s heart fell. The vessel floated in the center of the river, holding steady against a stiff current, but a horde of monsters shadowed it along the bank ahead, screaming with rage at fresh meat bobbing just out of reach. Sky and Kolkov simultaneously reined their horses to a stop with the sudden awareness that continued motion would carry them into the shrieking horde. Meanwhile, the original pursuit began closing the distance to the halted horses. Their tiny window of safety would last no more than twenty seconds.
“What now?” shouted Sky. “Away from the river?”
Kolkov surveyed oncoming creatures, the mob that hounded the boat, and the steep hillside above the river, biting her lip in concentration.
“No,” she replied after a few seconds. “We have but one option! Follow me!”
Spurring her horse into motion, the soldier plunged the beast down a bank and into the river. Sky wasted no time following, and soon frigid waters left her gasping for breath. Gripping tightly to her mount, she willed the animal forward as it beat downstream with powerful strokes. The distance to the boat grew smaller as her hands grew number. A shout from the ship signaled that those aboard had spotted Sky and Kolkov. The gangplank soon appeared over a side of the vessel, but the water was too deep. The current ripped it from the grasp of its holders, leaving the long mesh of planking drifting uselessly downstream.
“Take your gear!” shouted Kolkov. “Let the horses go! We can’t get them aboard without a ramp!”
Sky did as she was told, and soon found herself free of the creature and treading toward the outstretched hands of Stone and a young soldier. As she slipped past their hands, Sky tried with futility to will her frozen fingers to close on those of her would-be rescuers. Suddenly, Stone was in the water with her, dragging Sky back toward the boat. Seconds later other hands hauled both of them aboard.
Sky lay in a shivering gasping heap, trying to collect her departed breath and scattered emotions. Otter lay across her soaked body, clutching Sky with all his might. Kolkov’s voice gave evidence of the soldier’s presence on the boat, much to Sky’s relief. Motion on shore caught the girl’s attention, and she struggled to a sitting position in time to watch the horses clamber up a steep river bank opposite the howling mob. Neither one looked back as they plunged into a dark forest. Sky smiled.
“Be free” she whispered, hoping that the expedition would achieve a similar liberation.
Chapter 5
A late summer storm battered the boat as it chugged through sloshing waves in the early-morning gloom. The flat-bottomed vessel was built for running rivers and calm waters, not for plowing through six-foot swells. Already Otter and one of the young soldiers were losing their breakfasts into choppy seas, overcome by the misery of sea-sickness. Even Sky felt a bit queasy. The green mountain on Arrow Island peeked through a curtain of rain and low-hanging clouds, signaling that Refuge would be reached within an hour.
“Not long now,” Sky said to Stone as they sat at the bow of the boat under the repeated spray of breaking waves. “Then we can mount an expedition to The Saints. With any luck, we can launch within a couple of days. Two or three boats, provisions, horses, soldiers – that will take a little time to assemble.”
The motivation behind her plan was clear to Sky. The sooner we leave, the faster we find Thomas, she told herself. The thought of the young man alone in a vast and deadly wilderness wrenched her heart in a very strange way. Stone did not appear to be listening to Sky’s dialogue, but instead stared ahead toward the shore of Arrow Island. Sky followed the woman’s gaze to find what so captured Stone’s attention. She gave an audible gasp.
“What happened?” Sky muttered while staring at a still-smoldering shell of the beacon house located at the southernmost point of the island. Kolkov drew alongside for a better view, apparently having seen the smoking ruin as well.
“Look at the forest,” said Stone of the trees behind the house. “What would splinter them like that?”
A sudden chill raced through Sky, followed by certainty that the devastation represented something unknown – something new and utterly dangerous.
“Advisor Scott?” she suggested, but not quite believing it.
“I don’t think so,” replied Kolkov grimly. “This looks like … I don’t even know.”
“Perhaps we should put ashore before reaching Refuge, just in case,” suggested Sky with a newfound caution.
“Or maybe we should just ask whomever is paddling that kayak toward us,” responded Stone. Sky found the object of Stone’s comment, rising and falling through swells as its occupant struggled madly toward their boat. A moment of concentration brought sudden recognition from Sky.
“It can’t be!” she cried. “It’s Fern! Fern Torres!”
Kolkov and Stone glanced at Sky with questioning eyes.
“You don’t understand,” she explained. “Fern is the least risky person I know. She wouldn’t take a kayak into open sea ever, let alone during a storm. Unless …”
“Unless what?” asked Stone.
“We need to get her aboard now!” Sky declared with a raw edge of panic in her voice. Fern’s presence in the roiling waters of the sound confirmed Sky’s growing sense of dread. Something terrible had happened. Fern began breathlessly blurting the news even as they extracted her and the kayak from sloshing seas.
“They are waiting for you in West Sound! You must turn away, or they will capture you!”
“Who?” demanded Kolkov, her voice tight with urgency. “Who is waiting?”
Exhausted from her mad run through rolling waves, Fern inhaled a few deep breaths before answering.
“The people in the giant ship,” she explained, expecting understanding. The rest of the boat’s passengers had gathered around Fern, and everyone stared without comprehension. Sky could tell Kolkov was near losing her temper with Fern’s scattered telling. She intervened to prevent an inevitable explosion.
“Calm down, Fern,” Sky said while putting an arm around her best friend's back. “Start from the beginning of your story. What happened first?”
Fern took a few deep breaths, gathering her thoughts. Then she began, slower and more lucidly.
“Only a few hours after you left, there was this incredible blast of sound from the bay, like the fog horns by the docks, but a hundred times louder. We ran to the waterfront to find a gigantic ship approaching. I mean, enormous!”
“Bigger than the sunken ferry in the bay?” Sky asked.
“Much bigger. It made the ferry look like a fisher boat by comparison.”
Sky shuddered with excitement and dark dismay. This was something new indeed, and apparently extremely dangerous. She prompted Fern to continue.
“Then what?”
“Strange people came ashore in boats. They dressed in orange and yellow plastic suits, with helmets that covered their heads and silvery shields that protected their faces. They had firearms. When a few on the docks ran …” Fern choked back sudden despair.
“Did these strange people shoot them?” Kolkov asked during the pause. Fern nodded, her eyes filled with traumatic tears.
“For no reason,” Fern coughed. “They just killed some, randomly. I knew a few of the dead. I ran up the hill and watched from a distance.”
Sky turned over in her mind the shocking tale, a thousand questions rushing in a torrent toward her lips. Who are these people? Where are they from? And what kind of person would murder innocents unprovoked? Sky’s questions were cut off as Kolkov grabbed Fern’s shoulders firmly and peered into the terrified girl’s eyes.
“Stop weeping,” she commanded, “and finish your telling. Understand?”
Kolkov’s ferocity snapped Fern back into focus, and she nodded grimly. The girl continued, with a disheartening darkness in her normally lively brown eyes.
“They took control of Refuge. They ransacked the House of Order, and burned the soldier barracks. Your mother and the other leaders were placed in the Hold. They told the rest of us to remain in our homes or die on the spot.”
“Did they say why they came?” asked Kolkov.
“No. But they were looking for something. In addition to the House of Order, they tore apart Departure House and your mother’s office – any place that might store records. And I think I know what they were looking for.” She gazed into her friend’s eyes, communicating without words.
“Anna’s notes?” guessed Sky reluctantly. Fern nodded.
“Are they from The Saints then?” asked Stone, something Sky wondered as well.
“No,” Fern replied. “They came from the west. And those suits … covering every inch of skin and muffling their voices – deep voices that rumbled. They did not look or sound at all like the woman you described from the ruins. And they referred to themselves as ‘RPR’ and ‘Reapers’.”
Childhood nursery rhymes popped into Sky’s brain. In those lyrics, the Reaper was an incarnation of death closely associated with monsters.
“What does that mean?” Sky asked, puzzled by the chilling name choice. Fern returned a blank look. Finally Kolkov spoke.
“It means they come here bringing death,” she said quietly. Sky stared with the others at the soldier, questioning. Kolkov answered their unspoken query.
“It means that all of us are in desperate trouble.”
* * *
The flat-bottomed boat bobbed in shallow surf just off the southwestern shore of Compass Island, bathed in welcome darkness by a cloudy, starless night.
“How long do we wait?” Fern asked in a whisper.
“Until they return,” Sky replied for a third time. Willow had found a disused dock and moored there briefly, long enough for Kolkov to disembark with the other soldiers and one of the sailors. Sky had felt sorry for the obviously frightened sailor, and volunteered to take her place. Kolkov would not have it.
“We will return before dawn,” the sergeant had said before melting into the dark trees. Sky tried unsuccessfully to sleep, but instead stared repeatedly at the woods. Rain’s last words kept bubbling to the surface of her mind – that Kolkov could not be trusted. Sky kept sweeping her suspicions aside. Kolkov risked her life to spy on the invaders. Still, the girl could not help but speculate about the sudden arrival of strangers, and how it coincided with her discovery of Anna’s notes and the demise of the Order. Was Advisor Scott involved? Had she somehow informed the Reapers – whoever they were – of what happened? Sky could only guess, victimized by the maddening frustration of not knowing.
Deep in thought, Sky felt Otter snuggle nearer to her in the chill of early morning. She pulled the blanket that covered them both higher to protect the boy’s shoulders.
“What’s to become of us?” she whispered. Otter continued his slumber, blissfully ignorant of their perilous situation.
Nearly an hour passed before a sudden splashing jerked everyone into immediate alertness. A dark figure was in the water, stroking desperately for the boat. Within moments they were hauling Kolkov aboard.
“Set the sail,” she tersely ordered Willow. “We must leave, now!”
Willow hesitated only a moment before scrambling to raise the sail, assisted by the remaining sailor.
“What about the others?” Sky asked, still scanning the trees for their arrival.
“Captured,” she replied without further explanation. “And it will only be a matter of time before they find us here.”
“Where will we go?” Willow asked as she prepared the rigging. “We have a steady south wind. We could return the way we came, maybe to Haven, or to Bridge.”
“No,” replied Kolkov, “They will find us eventually. Their technology is too sophisticated.”
Sky barely heard the exchange between the two women. She had already fixed her mind resolutely on a plan, and the dangerous path ahead.
“The Saints,” Sky interrupted. “We must continue as we planned.”
All those aboard stared at the girl with uncertainty, even a barely comprehending Otter. She turned away from the forest to face them.
“Cleary these so-called Reapers are here to stop us – for what reason I do not know. That means our mission is now more important than ever. We cannot help the Community by submitting to capture. We owe it to our mothers and sisters to finish what we started.”
Sky expected a counter argument, but none came. Willow nodded, and tugged the sail into position. A light breeze filled it and the boat lurched forward, turning west. Kolkov exchanged a glance with Sky, one that indicated agreement, and just maybe a little pride. Suddenly abashed, Sky turned to Fern.
“I guess you are coming with us. I’m sorry.”
“No,” replied Fern. “Don’t be. I want to do whatever I can to oppose those terrible people. Even if it kills me.”
Sky smiled. Underneath a soft, flighty exterior, Fern was showing a hint of mettle for the first time in her life. Now it was Sky’s turn to show pride, and Fern’s to blush.
* * *
Sunrise found the expedition hurtling southwestward in a new boat through the mouth of a wide channel bordered by mountainous terrain on either side. Behind them lay West Island, and the fisher community of Roach that had enthusiastically replaced the flat-bottomed river boat with the jewel of the Community’s fleet – the Orca. Built during Before times, its black and white hull gleamed in sunlight, mimicking the appearance of one of the sleek hunting whales that roamed the sound. The boat’s long but light hull slipped easily through opposing waves as if eager to reach open sea.
“Jibe-ho,” shouted a stocky sailor called Iris, warning that the sail’s boom was about to sweep across the boat as they ran before a stiff sea breeze. Iris had joined the crew at Roach, a more experienced replacement for the younger sailor who chose to remain behind. The expedition now numbered seven – Sky, Fern, Stone, Otter, Willow, Iris, and of course, the imposing Kolkov.
“I hope seven is our lucky number,” Sky said to Fern as they cataloged and stowed provisions taken aboard at the fisher village. Fern smiled weakly at her comment, a little green from either choppy seas or probable danger ahead.
“I hope so, too,” Fern agreed. She glanced at Otter, who careened about the deck, excited by the vessel’s speed and the buzz of activity. “He doesn’t seem to care that we are heading for the edges of the earth.”
Sky laughed at Fern’s dismay. “Don’t worry. Willow says the ocean should be no worse than inland waterways as long as you hug the coastline. Besides, with some luck, we can make it to The Saints within ten days if prevailing winds hold true.”
Ten days, and then how many more before I see Thomas again, she wondered? Minutes later Willow interrupted their work with a shout.
“There she is!”
Everyone stared past the port bow at a new sight – an utter absence of land on the horizon. Blue water stretched to the edge of vision and disappeared, with not a hint of land beyond.
“The ocean?” Fern asked, but nobody replied, lost as they were in the shocking expanse of blue.
“It sure is big,” noted Stone.
“And that’s just the beginning,” Iris commented. “Fisher legend has it that the next land of any significance sits thousands of miles westward. In the direction from which the Reapers came.”
Sky chewed on that information for a moment, pondering the vastness of the planet beyond what she had seen. The world kept getting larger, and she smaller.
“Fortunately we won’t need to cross it,” Kolkov said, before turning to Sky. “How far south are The Saints? What did that woman’s journal say?”
“More than a thousand miles.”
Kolkov nodded, betraying only a hint of intimidation at the length of the journey ahead. Then she said, “Too bad we didn’t have opportunity to find a map of the coastline. It’s a big ocean, and this is a very small ship.”
Iris, who was already back at work, motioned to Sky and Fern and said, “Come here, you two. Time to learn how to trim sails. It looks like the wind will be pushing us south for a while.”
The girls joined Iris at mid-ship, where she showed them how to pull sail in or let it out to account for the force of the wind. Too much sail would cause the ship to heel over and capsize, and too little would slow progress to a crawl. The urgency of the journey called for as much speed as possible without risking the ship’s safety. Sky learned eagerly, excited by the call of a new adventure.
“What does it look like south of here?” Sky asked of Iris.
“Not a clue,” the woman replied. “I’ve never been much past the channel mouth before. Nobody has, except for one of our old fishers at Roach whose boat was swept into the ocean during a storm.”
Sky gulped, and Fern stared wide-eyed before asking, “Then how do we know where we are going? How do we know what to do?”
Iris laughed, amused at Fern’s reaction.
“We do what sailors have done for thousands of years. We follow the wind and the coastline, and make it up as we go along.”
Sky swallowed again, her stomach a little queasy. Ten minutes later she was leaning over the railing emptying her stomach’s contents into the sea, heavy in the throes of sea-sickness. Within an hour, everyone aboard but Willow, Iris, and Kolkov had joined Sky in collective misery. The soldier stood at the bow watching coastline slide by, back straight and face set to the wind.
“Does anything ever bother her?” Fern asked while looking at Kolkov. Sky managed a brief chuckle in between stomach eruptions.
“I doubt it,” she replied.
Chapter 6
Anna’s Diary, 11 or 12 February, 24 Years After
“More snow today. Will this cursed winter never end? The pantry is still well stocked, but I tire of canned fruits and meats from before the Fall. My practice with a bow is starting to pay dividends. When this snowstorm ends, I will venture into the woods in search of small game. If my bow-hunting skills fail me perhaps small animal traps will not. Either way, my diet screams for something new.
I know a tougher journey lies ahead. My lab equipment sits in an abandoned courthouse miles down the pass, where I left it when a mob of monsters threatened to catch me. I must return for it if I am to accomplish anything meaningful. At two hundred pounds, the gear is much too heavy for me to carry. I must first find another horse – a wild one at that. So many challenges! So much to be done!
The primary benefit of this monotonous hibernation that has become my existence is this: the contents of my memory have nearly all been regurgitated onto paper. Soon I will move past recapturing my old research, and begin delving into new study. The lure of the unknown draws me onward like a thirsty woman to water. I hope that I am up to the task, both physically and mentally.”
Chapter 7
“Care for a biscuit?” Willow asked. Sky turned up her nose at the kind offer, her stomach just now settling after two of the worst days of her life.
“Not just yet, but thanks,” she replied.
“It will pass,” Willow promised. “The sickness always does. It’s just the unwelcome price we all must pay to become one with the waves.”
Sky nodded, just now starting to believe what Willow had been insisting during the past two days. Kolkov remained unaffected, and had been lending a hand with the sails. A constant tail wind had pushed the boat steadily down the coastline. Sky sat a while longer watching distant, forested lands, catching occasional glimpses of ruined remnants of civilization slowly disappearing beneath a canopy of green. Shrill sounds of Willow and Kolkov having a heated discussion broke Sky’s silent reverie.
“We cannot stop,” Kolkov was saying. “The risk is too great.”
“But we must find a place to shelter,” responded Willow as she pointed west. “We don’t know how intense the approaching storm will be. The wind is already picking up. I’m not sure how this ship will handle in heavy seas.”
Sky turned to find the reason for their conversation. Angry, dark clouds were mounting on the horizon, visibly building as she watched. The wind was already cutting cooler than before. Kolkov stared at the distant horizon for some time before acquiescing to Willow’s more informed opinion.
“Alright, then,” she said. “But where? We know nothing of this coastline.”
An abrupt memory tickled Sky’s mind.
“A river,” the girl said, inserting herself into their conversation. “Thomas and Laura both spoke of a giant, lazy river that poured into the sea. Thomas said it was a few days ride from the Dark City. We must surely be near it now.”
“Let’s hope you are right,” Willow said grimly. “I am going to engage the bio-motor for more speed. The sooner we find your river, the better.”
Motor engaged and sail full, Orca flew before the growing wind, jibing nearer and nearer to shore. Sky forced Otter protesting into the cabin, not wishing to lose him overboard in mounting seas. Fern was happy to join the boy to escape the growing tumult on deck. When eventually Iris spotted the river’s mouth three hours later, a blasting wind was threatening to heel the boat over while pelting everyone with sheets of freezing rain.
“Help Iris with the trim!” shouted Willow to Sky and Kolkov. The two worked with Iris to pull in sail, providing Willow greater maneuverability. As Orca approached a spit of land that marked the river’s departure point into the sea, the swells began to grow. The tiny craft mounted each swell, and then dropped into a valley beyond, again and again. Each breaching of a wave brought a mountain of cold salt water rushing across the vessel’s deck. Sky found herself clutching desperately to the mast to prevent aggressive waves from sweeping her overboard.
“The waves are too much!” Willow bellowed. “We must find shelter behind the point!”
The fisher guided her craft through ever-increasing swells toward the spit, and followed it until the land narrowed into a long jetty of rock, clearly made by human hands. Waves crashed against the jetty with a force that would certainly crush Orca, so Willow gunned the engines and followed the long wall south, looking for a way around it. A solution appeared soon after in the form of a wide breach in the jetty.
“Drop the sail and hold tight! We are going through!”
With that warning, Iris frantically pulled in all remaining sail while Willow swung her vessel toward the gap. Engines yammering, the craft shot through the jetty, avoiding an ugly cluster of crumbling rock by less than a boat width before a swell dumped it beyond the rock wall. Within seconds, the chaotic sea began to settle. Angry waves battered the jetty’s seaside in frustration, but broke against the wall, leaving the backside relatively quieter.
“Where now?” Kolkov asked. Willow had an answer.
“Back to the spit of land. We can anchor behind it until the storm subsides.”
The haggard woman guided her boat under engine power through a narrow pass between the spit and another land mass, apparently a small island. Upon clearing the island, the spit curved into a concave pocket that promised shelter. Sky peered at moldering buildings sliding by as Orca slipped into the pocket and its relatively calm waters. Only when Iris dropped anchor did Willow kill the motor and slump over the wheel, exhausted.
“Well done!” Stone praised as she placed a hand on Willow’s back. “How often have you piloted a boat through something like that before?”
Willow turned her head and smiled triumphantly. “Never. That was my first time.”
With the vessel at rest, the soaked and freezing passengers took turns changing into drier clothing and shaking spray from their rubbery overcoats. Somehow Fern had managed to heat some cider, and she passed around a warm jug to her thankful comrades. Sitting with the jug between her hands for warmth, Sky’s thoughts returned to the cluster of buildings on the shore of the small bay.
“So what do you suppose ‘Coast Guard’ means?” she asked to everyone within earshot. Iris and Kolkov glanced up at the girl’s question. The sailor shrugged, but Kolkov ventured a guess.
“I believe it was a military term meaning those who guarded the coast. Guarding from what, I can’t say. Why do you ask?”
“Those buildings we passed,” she replied. “A big sign said ‘Coast Guard’. Wreckage in the water looked like collapsed docking bays, and I thought I saw an old boat sunk beneath one.”
“Yes. It could be a military post from Before,” Kolkov said. Sky sat for a moment, staring into space. When she spoke again, her vacant stare did not waver.
“A military post. I’ll bet they kept a lot of useful things at military posts.”
“I imagine so,” Kolkov replied. Then Sky looked up to meet the soldier’s curious gaze.
“Like maps,” Sky said. “Maps of the river mouth. Maps of the coastline. Maps that might show the way to The Saints.”
Kolkov nodded, before realizing the direction of Sky’s reasoning. Then she shook her head vigorously.
“No. Going ashore in a strange place is far too dangerous.”
“And so is blindly sailing the ocean toward an unknown destination!” Sky replied passionately. “We might end up wrecked on rocks, or we might sail past it without ever knowing. I don’t want to go through again what we just experienced, stabbing blindly in the dark for shelter and finding it through dumb luck. We need a map!”
Kolkov seemed taken aback by Sky’s resolve. Even stoic Stone arched her eyebrows in surprise. The sergeant appeared ready to launch a counter argument, but suppressed it. She pursed her lips in deep thought while staring at the insistent girl. When Kolkov finally spoke, her tone was soft but firm.
“As you wish, then. But just the two of us, and only when this storm abates. Everyone else remains aboard ship.”
Sky nodded agreement, and tried hard not to smile. Sky did not want Kolkov to suspect the pleasure she took in winning a battle of wills against the ironclad soldier.
* * *
The door splintered and disintegrated loudly from the force of Kolkov’s boot. The two women held a collective breath, waiting for any sign of response from within the building. When nothing stirred, Sky explosively expelled a breath.
“Didn’t expect that to happen,” said Kolkov with a sheepish grin.
“No worries,” Sky commented. “At least now we know the building does not hide any monsters.”
Kolkov ducked into a dim, musty interior, a lit torch in hand. Before Sky entered, she turned to scan the dark forest just yards from the doorway of the collapsing structure. Nothing moved but wisps of mist from the just-departed storm. Still, she could not shake a troublesome feeling that something lurked in the trees, watching. The girl slipped inside to find the soldier assessing the wrecked interior.
“Oh, where to start?” the woman said. Deciding quickly, Kolkov approached an interior wall holding deeply rusted filing cabinets. Sky joined her. Ten minutes and a crowbar later, all the drawers stood open, filled with moldering mounds of what used to be paper, intermingled with a century of mice droppings.
“I don’t think we are going to find anything salvageable,” Kolkov said with resignation. “We should go back.”
“Just a moment,” Sky replied, her attention gripped by a large metal bin apparently made of what the old ones called ‘stainless steel’. She had seen similar containers in the hospital at the Dark City during the failed shore expedition. What drew the girl’s primary interest was not the bin, but instead the rather large padlock that held it shut, and a hand-carved message etched into the wall above. She spoke the words as she read them.
“World gone to hell. Have the fever for sure. Won’t be long now. Take what you need. But leave by sundown. God bless. Bill Parsons”
An arrow pointed from the word ‘need’ to the large bin below. Kolkov hefted her crowbar and stepped toward the container.
“Let’s see what good old Bill left us,” she said, and began attacking the padlock. Taking turns, the two assaulted the ancient lock for another ten minutes before it surrendered with a snap. Kolkov pried the latch upward, and was greeted by a subtle hiss. Both jumped backwards with a start, and then the soldier laughed.
“Air escaping,” she conjectured. “This bin must have been pressure sealed.”
The women exchanged a knowing glance, acknowledging the significance of that. It meant the contents, if any, might be unspoiled by the march of years. Together they jumped to the bin and threw open its lid.
“Whoa!” Sky exclaimed. She and Kolkov simply stared for a long moment at a veritable treasure trove of supplies from Before. Then they dove in to rummage with frenzy.
“Ropes! A hunting knife! Cooking gear!” laughed Kolkov.
“Wool blankets! Flares! And field glasses, like the pair Thomas has!” shrieked Sky as she removed a plethora of precious objects. “And what is this?”
Kolkov stared at the small, rectangular metal object in the girl’s hand, and then took it gently. Flipping open the object’s lid, she rubbed it a few times before a tiny flame erupted, causing Sky to blink in surprise.
“It’s a lighter,” the soldier said. “I haven’t seen one of these in, well, I don’t know how long.”
Sky stared in awe at the small flame, a silly grin on her delighted face. Kolkov let the flame wink out and handed the lighter back to the girl with a magnanimous smile.
“Here, you keep it. But don’t use it all up. They only last so long before running out of fuel.”
Sky accepted the lighter and placed it carefully into her jacket pocket, before resuming her rummaging. Within seconds Kolkov came across that which they most desired.
“Maps!” the woman exclaimed. Retrieving a hard, arm-length tube labeled “nautical charts,” the soldier removed an end and tilted the tube. A thick roll of paper slid partially out into her waiting hand. “Your mother had a similar set stashed away with the satellite images.”
Stooping to the dusty floor, Kolkov unrolled the papers to reveal the first chart. Sky puzzled at a profusion of strange markings and wavy lines before an image began to take shape.
“Coastline!” she exclaimed with a thrill of discovery.
“Yes,” the woman replied as she rifled through the stack. “Each part represents a section of coastline, maybe one hundred miles per chart. We will need to lay them out to make a picture of the entire coast. But not here.”
Sky nodded. The sun was falling into the trees, rendering the dull light that precedes dusk.
“Let’s pack what we can into the kayak,” Kolkov instructed as she re-rolled the maps and replaced them in the tube. Each of them gathering an arm-load of treasure, including the tube of maps, the women walked briskly to their kayak and stuffed every item into its hull. Barely enough room remained for two seated bodies.
“I think some blankets will fit between us,” said Sky. “I’ll get them.”
She hurried up the hill in fading light and entered the building. As Sky stood with a bundle of blankets clutched to her chest, she noticed Bill Parson’s etched words a final time.
“But leave by sundown,” she muttered aloud. A sudden chill raced through her body in the growing gloom of the dusky building. Hustling out the doorway, she glanced into the darkening, mist-covered trees – and then froze. A ghostly image emerged slowly from the mist, fuzzy at first, then becoming clearer. Sky stared with apprehension that soon turned to surprise. The image belonged to a girl about Sky’s age, with long, thick, dark hair. Without thinking, Sky spoke to the approaching figure.
“Hello, there!” she said, confused by the presence of a young woman in this forgotten place. “Who are you?”
Only as the question left her lips did Sky realize her terrible mistake. Only then did she notice the ragged hide the girl wore, the matting of her long hair, the dirt streaked face, and wild eyes. Within a second the infected girl launched her body toward Sky and bowled her over, sending blankets flying. Driven to her back, Sky pushed desperately with her arms as the animal-minded young woman lunged at her neck with teeth bared and dirty nails flailing. Kicking upward with all her might, Sky sent her attacker rolling. She leaped to her feet and faced the wild girl. The monster loosed a primal scream and lunged at Sky again, but did not reach her stunned prey. A red spot formed suddenly on the attacker’s forehead and she collapsed in mid-leap to the damp ground. Sky stared at the still form for a moment, puzzled and uncomprehending, before turning to find Kolkov standing near, a handheld firearm clutched in the woman’s outstretched hand. The solider lowered her weapon and glared at Sky.
“Don’t just stand there,” she commanded. “Get those blankets and let’s go. More are coming!”
Howls of other monsters approaching through darkening woods spurred Sky into motion. Gathering scattered blankets, she raced to the kayak, and plunged in as Kolkov shoved the craft into the water. The boat had drifted only a short distance when a mob of half-starved, raging monsters hurtled to a stop at the water’s edge, bellowing frustrated anger at the escaping boat. Sky turned away and clutched the blankets tightly to her chest. Seated just behind her, Kolkov paddled methodically toward Orca. After a long silence between them, the soldier spoke.
“She wasn’t human. She would have killed you, and eaten your flesh. I had to shoot her. It was the only way.”
“I know,” the girl responded after another moment of silence. Deep within her soul, however, she lamented the madness of a world where such an act proved necessary.
Chapter 8
Anna’s Diary, mid-May, 24 Years After
“It was rather stupid of me to venture that far down the pass where monsters roam. However, I could not shake the idea of finding an infected subject for study. What was I thinking? How could I possibly capture a live subject and return it to my haven with no horse and no help. Perhaps I have been alone too long, and have surrendered too much judgment. Perhaps I had forgotten how violent and utterly malevolent monsters are. As a result, two of them lie dead in the green grass of springtime, victims of my vastly improved bow shot. But not before one took a prize. I just hope the loss of the little finger on my left hand will not interfere with either my survival or my research.
I was reckless today. I cannot afford to be that again.”
Chapter 9
The nautical maps quickly rendered the risky shore expedition worthwhile, despite Sky’s continued regret over the killing of the infected girl. She could not escape the newfound epiphany that continued to prod her conscience. Under different circumstances, she could have been just like the dead girl, infected by plague and living a mindless, animalistic, terror-ridden existence, barely alive until snuffed by exposure, starvation, or violence. Buried beneath melancholy, Sky spent most of the next few days in the boat’s cabin sleeping, stewing, and fiddling with Bill Parson’s lighter.