Novels2Search
Brunning Divide
Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

----------------------------------------

…Which was a wasted sentiment.

Solar lights high on the walls cast beams through the slightly dusty air in the main room of the hall. Only an overturned table and a broken chair scattered across the flagstones hinted at any past violence. In fact, the room appeared to be empty. I made for the storeroom door at the opposite end of the room where I assumed my father, Sam, Reese, and the freak were at.

The meeting hall held little fond memories for me. It was the place where I, like all Brunning children, had received my education under the tutelage of Tenley Larkin—a woman with little patience for children. And it was the temporary home where the seven remaining families had lived while the spider-proof rock foundations similar to the one under the hall were added to each house and barn. And even though the spiders had been gone for a while, my father had insisted on finishing every other house, even the Suiza’s empty house, before we could finish the reinforcement of our own home.

A muffled conversation leaked out from the thick metal storeroom door. If any room was fit for a prison cell, this was it. Sloping into the ground, and made purely out of reinforced stone, even the ceiling, we used the room as a depot for our crops. It was designed to keep all pests out, so why not use it to keep pests in? I figured the freak must have been tied up and the other men were in the room with him.

A sweat broke across my face. The dark had cloaked most of the freak from my view the night before. The image of a gnarled foot smashing into my face flashed in my mind. I shuddered a bit as my imagination began to fill in the details of that bent and twisted figure obscured by the night. My mind refused to reconcile that conjured image as anything close to human. My mother had said the freak was an unfortunate young man. But what human could survive among the spiders? Someone evil and as bloodthirsty as the eight-legged monsters, that’s who.

I tried to listen in on the conversation, but couldn’t distinguish any words. I grabbed the heavy door to pull it open.

“I suggest knocking.”

Every muscle in my sore body tensed and the air caught in my lungs. “Blight me!” I gasped at Reese Larkin.

He’d been sitting in a lotus position on the floor in the dark corner of the main room the whole time. I had completely looked over him, but with Reese that was normal. With his black skin that almost seemed to blend with any shadows, Reese had a scary talent for not being noticed unless he wanted to be.

His mouth curved in a small smile. “Surprising our guest could prove harmful for your father and Sam.”

“And surprising me isn’t harmful?” I shook my head, trying to calm my rampaging heart.

Reese raised an eyebrow. “When entering in a new situation, any harm is deserved for the unobservant.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

I scrunched my face and realized he was right. Reese had a hard wisdom to him. I often wondered what life had been like for him and his wife, Tenley, before Brunning. Their DNA was derived from ancestral human strains, just like the rest of us at Brunning, but the couple always acted with the discipline of a Hibernarii soldier. As much as they were loved and trusted by everyone in the colony, relaxing around the Larkins wasn’t easy.

“Is it safe in there?”

“Now that Sam is calm, yes.”

“I meant safe from the freak.”

“Aside from ignoring everyone, our guest has not shown any hostility.”

The way he referred to the freak as “guest” grated me. “Just comm my father and let him know I want to come in.” Reese nodded and tapped at the screen wrapped around his wrist. I waited. Again. So far the morning seemed like a big case of hurry-up-and-wait.

Life would have been easier if I had a comm of my own, but the only tech we had was what the Hibernarii allowed my father to have when they "let" us come to Brunning. A lot of it, like the burnt-out blaster on my bedroom wall, was useless and broken. We hodge-podged and improvised to keep essential tech, like the solar panels and the tired water pumps, functioning. Even if it meant cannibalizing other tech to do it.

Everyone had comms on Tatmus Delta, ancestral humans and Hibernarii alike. But those comms were more advanced and biologically integrated than the few surviving coveted wrist comms in Brunning. Only the original Brunning men, my mother, and Tenley Larkin had functioning comms—and Pa Thurns who had Rueben Suiza’s comm, which he hoarded, but never used.

“Reese.” I had my hands on my head, almost pulling my hair.

He looked up from his comm. “Yes?”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m reading.”

“Are you talking with my father or Sam?”

“Neither.”

“What?” I might have pulled a bit of hair then. “Then who are you talking to?”

“I am reading.”

“What. Are. You. Reading?”

“Sun Tzu. About art.”

More hair died. “I don’t give a damn about art! What’s going on in there?”

Reese sighed and adjusted an ear piece.

“You’ve been receiving audio this whole time?”

“Of course. Why do you think I am sitting here?”

If I clenched my jaw any tighter I would have broken a tooth. I pounded the door with my fists. “I’m coming in!”

Pulling the door open, I was greeted by a pained roar.