That night his mind swam through the depths of lucidity, and delved straight into madness. He fought against smoky men with writhing and twitching beards. Killed scores of undead. Had a mental domination battle with a fish. Watched all seven people he knew die.
Died himself. Then lusted after a pair of red-hot women with fox ears and a tail.
With a start, Jace jarred awake and gasped. Whatever was covering him was hot, and he threw it off himself. In that moment between full wakefulness and the fog of sleep.
Jace saw clarity. He saw everything of himself. Everything he had been and done, said and regretted. His hope and dreams, and his acquiescence of a deal struck. Then it all blew away scattering to the winds of the void in his mind.
Jace sat up and the cold air, and early dawn light grounded him in reality. The soft snores to his left, accompanied this. He froze for a second, his mind rapidly recounting everything that had happened to him yesterday. He worried this recollection of horror, fright and fighting to stay alive—to stay ahead—would be taken from him as well.
For a long timeless moment, he simply sat there on the mat. The cold damp air, chilled his sweat soaked clothes and body. He shivered and stumbled to his feet. Looking around he noticed that Marcia was sleeping peaceably with Athena opposite her, and between them slept their children.
Jace took that moment to fully take in the fox-women beautiful faces and delicate features. The small silken strip of fur curving beneath their eyes almost touch their long eyelashes as they slept.
Even in her sleep though Marcia’ face was still like steel. Though there was noticeably less there and that alone made her more youthful and just as stunning as her daughter.
A sound outside drew his attention and creeping towards the door, Jace pried it open his mind operating back to zombie rules. If it squeaks, run like fucking hell, Jace shook his head, clearing the nonsense away. Even as his mind processed the thought, it still made no sense to him.
Outside he found Douglas chopping wood with an axe. The wiry fox noticed Jace and waved him on.
“If you’re looking for the outhouse its behind the barn,” Douglas greeted him nodded the way. Jace waved back and headed in that direction. He immediately gagged as the smell of decomposing food and shit hit him then. Compost heap, Jace guessed eyeing the darkened mound.
Once he was done pissing, Jace ran back to Douglas. The man handed him the axe and set a block of wood on the cut and worn-down stump. “Take over for me,” was all he said and Jace got to work. Bringing the axe swinging down and chopping easily through block after block of wood.
By the time he stopped, he’d acquired quite the collection. Wordlessly helping Douglas by carrying a stack, Jace followed him. “So you’ve got questions?” the fox-man asked Jace and he nodded as they went around the back of the house. Jace hadn’t realised they had a chicken coop, as they were so quiet.
Except that chickens don’t have scales, he thought looking at them. They were broader than a usual chicken as well, their features sharper and more reptilian. Instead of a beak they had a scaled snout, and though they clucked with a hiss they still moved jerkily like chickens did.
Jace shook his head fractionally and set his stack down turning to the fox-man. “I do. I have a lot of questions actually.”
“I figured as such. If you can mind to wait an hour or so. The women will be up then, and we can go hunting,” Douglas informed him.
“Fine with me,” Jace smiled his agreement.
Two hours later after the lots chores were done, Jace stepped out of the oddly vacant barn and swiped at his brow. Though the sky was still dark with roiling clouds the heat of the unseen sun still made it through. Though the air chilled his lungs, like the onset of winter coming around the bend.
His heart fluttered as Athena strolled from the house and stopped briefly as a ray of sunlight peeked through to shine down on her. It moved on just as Marcia stepped out beside her, carrying Gabrielle. There was a gentleness to the older fox-woman’s possessive grip on the baby girl.
Gabrielle cooed at her grandma and played with her curly auburn hair, tangling her small chubby fingers through it.
He saw Douglas talking to them both and nodding in Jace’ direction. Frowning Jace followed his instinct and honed his hearing, singling out their whispery noises. The further he focused, the clearer they became. “-we’re going hunting,” Douglas’ voice warbled, sounding murky.
“Probably best that you do. Try and find any traces of where our Lurka went as well, will you,” Marcia replied and gave her husband a chaste kiss.
“The both of you look after each other, alright?” Douglas said, looking between them.
“Of course father,” Athena said, stepping in to give him a hug. “Watch out for each other as well.”
“I still don’t trust him,” Marcia grumbled.
“You don’t trust anyone, Marcy,” Douglas chuckled lightly.
“I trust you, husband,” she replied almost immediately. This was followed by a derisive snort from Douglas. “Took you a while though, didn’t it. Look, I don’t fully trust him either. But I do believe he doesn’t mean us any harm. He’s … just lost is all,” Douglas said.
Jace looked away, as the family glanced in his direction. He studiously pretended to be wiping his hands clean with a wet rag. It wasn’t wet.
“More like distant,” Athena supplied, her voice a measure of softness. “I have this feeling like every time I look at him. He’s looking and searching for something else, something far away from here.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll see you both later.” With that Douglas limped over to Jace and dropped a sack on the ground. Jace looked at it, and then at Douglas, “what’s in the bag?”
“A quiver of arrows and a bow,” Douglas pulled out his own, tucking the empty sack through the belt at his waist, he swung the quiver over his head and tightened the straps.
Jace followed suit and a few seconds later, he was shrugging his shoulders trying to get used to the dig of the strap and the loose weight of the quiver. He grabbed the reasonably plain bow off the ground and tested the draw. Shifting his stance to accommodate the bow, and using three fingers he drew the string taut all the way back to his chin.
Easing his draw Jace looked to Douglas, who nodded appreciatively. Jace apparently knew how to handle a bow. Though Jace himself, had no idea how he knew.
They left the lot, climbing the wagon wedged in the gap and dropping to the other side. They started off into the woods, marching the way the zombies had ran to last night. As they started, Jace began drawing out arrows.
He found that each arrow was caught by some sort of hook device that required twisting the arrow free before pulling it from the quiver. Though that would be helpful in cases of running or falling over. Jace imagined it wasn’t exactly convenient for drawing fast and quick shots.
He checked the shafts for splits, the arrow heads for chips or cracks, and the fletching for misplaced feathers. Surprisingly, he found that a few of the arrows curved slightly in the middle, which meant he would have to adjust his aim when loosing an arrow. Out of the fifteen he had, two had the bend.
“So, I’m just going to come right out and say it,” Douglas said after a while of them slogging in silence.
“Go ahead,” Jace prompted him.
“You’re not of our world are you?”
Jace shook his head doubtfully, “no. I don’t believe I am.”
“What do you mean, don’t believe?” Douglas asked curiously.
Jace told him how he woke up in a room, in Parkers Hold without any memories other than his name. He didn’t tell him about the fifty-one other people there though.
“All I know so far,” Jace continued, and patted at his waist where the journal was. “And from what I’ve gathered is that this all… thing.” He waved his hands in an encompassing gesture. “Is because of some evil god. And that it happened before.”
Douglas nodded fractionally; his eyes stayed on whatever trail they were following. “That’s vague, but there is truth there,” he sighed heavily and stopped, turning to look at Jace. “Most of the things people know about the Eclipse cycle is that, well yes it did happen before. It happened some three hundred odd years ago. And maybe once before even then. This evil god business, is the newest of horrors to assail Aederon and came about nearing the end of the last cycle. Most belief that the wretches and Dwellers are things made up by the church of the Sacred Light. Well, we’ve seen and fought them,” he paused to take account of his thoughts.
“Then there’re the summoned. The Fifty-One betrayers of scale and balance. Tricked, as it was told, by the fae who were in cahoots with the Nigh Dwellers,” Douglas shook his head. “Likely is, that that was bullshit, and the humans and kin wanted the fae kingdoms for themselves. Which brought us the kingdom and its ducal territories. Now all manner of fae and goblin kind treated little better than slaves, with us kin and you humans ruling across all of Dimere.”
“Dimere?” Jace asked, interrupting.
“This continent. Aederon is the world.”
“So the … fifty-one summoned betray everyone?” Jace asked sceptically.
“So it was said, at least that is the most popular opinion. Personally… I believe they sacrificed themselves.”
“Oh, why do you believe that?” Jace asked, surprise written plain across his face.
“They had fought countless battles against the wretch horde and their Dweller masters. Then suddenly this evil god arrives, and the wretches retreat into the haunted lands to the south and the Dwellers seemingly disappear along with the Fifty-One summoned.”
They froze as some foliage to their left cracked, the sound loud in the eerily quiet forest. Then a small rabbit patted out and Douglas relaxed. Guess we aren’t hunting bunny’s then, Jace thought and blinked realising he had drawn an arrow without even noticing himself.
Unknown to Jace. His vambrace lit alight with dim slivery blue symbols, that coalesced to form the image of a drawn bow and arrow on the surface of the steel panel. As quickly as it manifested it disappeared.
“So, what about the Dwellers themselves, what do you know about them?” Jace asked oblivious to had happened.
“Not much is known I’m afraid. It’s believed that they were powerful Magi. It was also believed that the Fifty-One summoned were as well. Other than that, there’s their appearance-”
Jace was finding it hard to believe that all Fifty-One were accounted for, whenever this supposed battle took place. He knew first-hand how quickly everything could fall apart. Which brough up an interesting question.
“Do the Fifty-One always show up in the same place?” he asked cutting whatever Douglas was saying short.
“What do you mean?” the fox-man replied, his brows drawing together.
“I mean, like, when summoned do they always appear in the same place?”
“I.. don’t know. I don’t think anything is known about that.”
“Are they always human?” Jace pressed. The foundation of an idea forming in his mind, though where it was going he had no clue.
“Human? No. The last summoned were of different races. Mostly of kin, human, elves and demons. Why?”
“Uh-huh,” Jace mumbled and stored that information away, the mention of elves and demons interested him. The fact that it was elves mentioned instead of fae, and that apparently the fae were the ones that tricked the summoned, meant they were of different tribes or something. Similarly to how he guessed that not all kin—as Douglas referred to himself as—were foxes. Though his wife and daughter certainly were.
They trekked on, and Jace finally noted the trail they were following. Large prints and impressions in the ground as if something fairly big had dragged its bulk across the forest floor briefly. Noting that, he started to see others signs then. Snapped branches, odd build-ups of leaves in certain areas, crushed flowers, and twigs.
“What’re we following exactly?” Jace asked finally.
“A Lurka. More specifically my Lurka,” he explained further at Jace’ look of confusion. “A Lurka is a reptilian beast of burden. Like a flightless drake, only smaller.”
“And how big is a drake exactly?” Jace asked sighing.
“Pretty big,” Douglas laughed wryly, “come on. We’re getting close.
They followed the tracks into a dew heavy clearing with tall grass. They found the Lurka, at the rim of the clearing. It was on its side dead, with the entire cavity of its chest splayed open with all of its insides removed.
Flies swarmed around the carcass, and Jace had cover at his nose and breathe shallowly as it reeked of death, blood and shit.
Huh, looks more like a Komodo dragon. Though it didn’t seem to have a tail.
“Those bastards,” Douglas spat vehemently and stood from where he’d crouched. They scanned the tall grass looking for signs of any zombies or obvious signs and passage.
“The zom- wretches do this?” Jace corrected himself.
“Yes. This must’ve been why they retreated, when they had the overwhelming number last night.”
“We should head back,” Jace suggested. He didn’t like what this could implied. They had numbers, yet chose different prey last night. However that didn’t mean they would again tonight.
“We should check in on our neighbours tomorrow, see if they’re still around.”
“There are others living out here?” Jace asked curiously. He personally didn’t understand it, maybe it was the isolation that people liked.
“Yes. besides us. There is a hamlet to our south east. A few farms out north west of us. And a village to our south, where we do most of our trading. Which will be more difficult now that our Lurka is dead.”
“How’d it get out anyway?”
“It was already outside its barn when the wretches showed themselves. From there it panic and bolted...” Douglas sighed.
“And broke the fence,” Jace finished.
“Exactly,” Douglas agreed. “We’ve enough meat at home, that hunting now would just be excessive,” he looked around, “let’s go back.”
~*~*~*~
Athena stretched in the sun, and then rubbed at her eyes tiredly. She was relaxing on the bench in front of her father and aunty’ house. Not feeling at all safe in her own home anymore, since Mathia died. Now they all stayed in the same room, under the same roof.
The unspoken agreement that there was safety in numbers.
Now that this stranger had come into their lives yesterday, Athena had found it amusing to watch her aunt silently intimidate the man. Ever since her mother had died, and they had all left Oedrin behind wanting to escape the riots a year ago. Marcia had become even more distrustful of outsiders, even going so far as to arm herself when a neighbour visited.
This Jace though. There was something about him. A darkness to him, that hung around him like a shroud. Yet it was an attractive feature. To Athena, it seemed as if Jace was running away from something. Responsibility maybe? She didn’t know, and doubted that she ever would.
She had seen his uncertainty evaporate before dinner, as he played with her daughter. His green eyes—so alike her Gabrielle’—alight in such childish wonder as he made faces and allowed Gabrielle to slap his cheeks as he pretended to be shocked. There was real love in his eyes in those moments.
She smiled to herself. Mathia had been good to her. He’d given her Gabrielle after all—and she would always love him for that. But what they had, had simply started out as a fling that got so entangled when she became pregnant. That they had then decided it would be best to remain together.
It had broke her heart when Mathia had foolishly died. They’d all known it was the beginning of the eclipse, and yet… Athena sighed, watching her aunt and daughter play around on a blanket as Cain read one of his picture books.
She wanted to ask her aunt for a sleeping remedy. Remembering how Jace had twisted and turned all night. Muffling cries of panic and claiming he was sorry all the time. But, she knew that even though her aunt Marcia was an acclaimed alchemist, she guarded her tincture and remedies closely.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Maybe it was time Athena took up her family trade. Her mother had taught her aunt. It was only right that she should learn as well.
The wretches attacking them in such a number last night had scared her fiercely. She had taken Gabrielle and hid as she panicked. Stuffing herself down the hatch, where her father kept his Oedrin guard equipment. And her aunt kept her tome and potions of medicine.
Her mind wandered back to Jace then, and the way he’d at stared at her. The raw intensity of his gaze. She knew her aunt felt it as well. Their was power to the man. Oh, he could act timid, but she guessed at the fact that he alone had strived to help them against the wretches. Could only mean he had some fight in him.
Mathia had been kind, gentle, but he was weak willed. She heard a sound then and looking up from where her daughter played, she saw Jace helping her father down off the wagon.
“They’re back,” she informed her aunt.
“And without the Lurka it seems,” Marcia sighed and ruffled Gabrielle’s hair. Her smile, Athena saw, tilted into a pretend scowl.
“What does that mean for us?” she asked worriedly, glancing at her aunt.
“It mean…” Marcia sighed again, her vain scowl slipping briefly. “That if it does get worse. Escaping here, now became a whole lot harder.”
~*~*~*~
“We found her,” Douglas began, as they slowly made their way over to the two women and children. “They killed her. And I suspect that’s why they retreated last night.” Jace watched as Gabrielle looked up at him and held out her arms then, babbling continuously and as she grabbed at the air. Bending down he laid his bow flat and held his hands out palms facing skyward.
Gabrielle crawled over to him, shocking everyone except Jace who wasn’t paying them any mind.
“Good girl,” Jace laughed and brought her close to him then, and stood up. He didn’t noticed how Athena, Marcia and Douglas all stopped talking to watch him carrying, and swishing a giggling Gabrielle around.
Athena and Marcy shot each other a glance, unspoken words passing between them. Douglas shook his head and turned back to the conversation.
“Jace and I are gonna check on the neighbours tomorrow.”
“Are you sure that’s wise father,” Athena asked struggling to tear her eyes away from Jace and her daughter.
“I was thinking about that on the way here, actually,” Jace interjected, swishing back in and throwing a squealing Gabrielle into the air. The baby girl, kicked her arms and legs and screamed joy as she flew up and then burst out laughing as Jace caught her and hugged her.
“Oh, what did you have in mind, son?”
“Well,” Jace began and sighed as Marcy rather angrily pried Gabrielle off of him. “Now this is just a theory. But what if the zom- wretches are purposefully trying to drive you from your homes.” Jace watched as their eyebrow came down then.
“What do you mean? They’ve been trying to kill us and attacking our lot for weeks now.”
“They also killed Mathia,” Marcia informed him.
“Right, that was the first death. What about the other farms, or the village. Have you visited any of them since this all started?”
“We visited Maypor, she owns a rather large farm to our north west. And we journeyed to the village to hold Mathia’ wake after he died,” Athena informed him looking at Jace rather curiously.
“And how many people have they lost?” All was silent for a moment.
“Maypor lost her two grandsons. They were out hacking the weeds off their fence,” Athena replied.
“The village?”
“A few, maybe. It might be more now.”
“What’re getting at here, son?” Douglas asked him, and trotted over to sit beside his daughter on the bench.
“I’ve seen a good portion of their numbers, Douglas,” Jace informed, and saw understanding come to the fox-man’ face. “If they wanted to, I reckoned they could’ve rolled over you and the others with minimum effort. Yet, they aren’t. Why is that?”
“We’ll be easier to kill without our walls and homes,” Marcia whispered and held onto Gabrielle protectively.
“Maybe so,” Jace half agreed. He’d thought hard on this on the way back. The number of zombies attacking this lot, was pitiful compared to the numbers he had seen. Either their force was so stretched thin, or…
“Or, they want to drive you from your homes for a reason. Like say… send all of you scurrying to safest place you know.”
“Oedrin…” Douglas breathed and slumped on the bench, Athena grabbing her father hands.
“But why?” Marcia asked, her distrust of Jace seemingly forgotten in the face of such a revelation.
“Remember, this is simply a theory,” Jace reminded them. They all looked ready to faint with shock.
“Aye,” Douglas agreed, “but it makes bleeding-sense, son.”
“Overcrowded areas will have more trouble providing for everyone. They’ll be riots and lack of faith in leadership. Disease and overpopulation go hand in hand in these cases. Hell, if that really is what the Dweller’ are planning. You’ll likely find the people fighting and distrusting each other, as much as fearing the zombies at their door.” He wasn’t exactly sure how he knew these sort of scenarios, yet it fit with his line of thinking.
“Zombies?” Athena asked curiously, tilting her head cutely.
“Uhhh- wretches,” Jace explained.
“So what do we do?” Marcia asked, looking to her husband.
Douglas looked at Jace, in fact they all looked at Jace. Even Cain and Gabrielle, though Jace reckoned the latter was actually pooping.
“Do we stay here then, son?” Douglas asked.
Jace shook his head sadly. “No. We can’t I’m afraid. They’ll increase the numbers attacking, and if you don’t eventually run. I imagine they’ll just kill you instead.”
“So what do we do?” Athena asked him, mirroring her aunt question, though she looked at Jace.
“We gather everyone we can in the coming days.” He began. “Then we go to Oedrin.”
~*~*~*~
A few hours later, saw Jace and the Shaw family sat around eating a late lunch. Jace ate greedily of his portion of cold cut meat served with cheese, lettuce, onions, chopped tomatoes and a hard-crunchy biscuit filled with seeds and oats.
A horn blew then, as the light outside started to dim. “Same as yesterday,” Douglas growled, wiping his hands on a handkerchief and standing up, he walked over to where they’d left their bows earlier. “We’ve got an hour or so before we’ll start seeing them.”
“Do they come straight for you?” Jace asked him, standing as well as he finished off a last bite of cheese.
Douglas shook his head, “no. Some’ll run right passed us. Onto other farms I suspect.” Then he turned to his family. “Marcia, you and Cain go around back and collect that wood we’d chopped today.”
Marcy nodded and stood, grabbing her son’s hand tugging the boy towards the door. “What about me father?” Athena asked him, a hopeful look in her eye.
“You stay in here and keep yourselves safe,” he told her, and then limped for the door. Jace saw the dejected look in her eyes. Keeping her locked up, just reinforces the fear she has. She’ll never overcome it this rate, Jace thought and gave the beautiful fox-woman a nod before following her father. Which means, she’ll either try to overcome it and get herself killed. Or freeze up in fright when the situation warrants fighting and fleeing.
Then again the woman did have a child. And a child is nothing without its mothers nurture, and a fathers guidance.
“Catch!” Jace blinked and reflexively snapped out his hand as he caught the chopping axe. “Figured you make better use of it than me,” Douglas smiled slightly at him then. “You would make quite the Orcish berserker. That is if you weren’t so pink and human.”
“Orcs?” Jace asked confused, but Douglas simply waived the question away. The name ticked something in Jace’s mind. A need to shout: ‘For the Horde!’ as loud as he could. Shaking the mind fog away, Jace spun the axe in his hand. The shaft long enough to make it two-handed. Its edge was blunted from obvious use. Tucking the axe through his belt, Jace swung his quiver over head and shoulder and moved over to Douglas.
“Marcia will light the pyre soon. We’ll stand watch and wait. Avoid making noise, or drawing them too us. If we’re lucky, they’ll ignore us for tonight.”
I doubt that, Jace thought, if anything, we’re likely to see more of them tonight, than elsewhere. Jumping up onto the wagon, wedged in the fence gap. Jace crouched down waited. The evening sky had swallowed their portion of the world in grey clouds, and pitch-black-darkness.
The only sounds Jace heard were that of Marcia and Cain scurrying wood out to tent a fire. Jace frowned and focused on calming his breathing. A twig snapped. A hitching breath and ragged wheeze, then more and more. More branches crackled and scrunch, leaves shuffled under many feet. The breathing became more sharper as Jace homed in on it.
It was so haggard it almost sounded like a growl. “They’re already here,” Jace murmured softly in realisation. He still couldn’t see much beyond the muddy clearing outside of the fence. Marcia’ pyre hadn’t risen high up enough to give Jace a good gleam of the forest yet.
“What’re you waiting for?” Jace questioned them quietly. Surprised when one of the zombies stepped out the forest. This one looked fresh to Jace. Its skin rather clear, except the gaping chunk ripped out the side of the female torso. Thick black veins spouted out the corner of its eyes, like watered mascaras running in sinuous line down her face. The zombie raised its arm, and pointed directly at Jace.
“Me!” Jace flinched back.
A rasping, choke hissed out of its mouth as it loudly formed one word. “Aaaaa-nooom-aaaa-lyyy.” It smiled a mouth of feral desire and hunger for human flesh.
They’ve come for me, Jace thought frantically. They know I’m here. Looking over his shoulder, Jace saw Douglas, Marcia and cain all staring at him in fear, terror, and … disappointingly, hope.
Beyond them he saw Athena poke her head out of the door of the house, little Gabrielle in her arms, the child oddly knowing where Jace was. The baby babbled, and reached out to him. To Jace though it seemed as if she waving Bye-bye.
Looking back at Douglas, Jace saw the fox-man emotions warring internally, and he sighed heavily in dejection. Standing up without a word, Jace walked to the end of the wagon and hopped off into the chilled air, absent of any fire, or light. “You want me,” he called to the undead fucking horde, “then come and fucking get me!” Shouting, Jace turned about and ran.
~*~*~*~
Athena blinked, Jace had stood up on the wagon. “Get down you idiot,” she hissed quietly, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able hear her even if she said the words aloud. “Dah-Dah?” Gabrielle asked her, turning to looked up at her, still with her hand out grabbing at Jace.
“I don’t know baby,” Athena replied and looked back just in time to see Jace turn about and jump off the wagon and land on the other side of the fence. “No, no, no, no. Stop you idiot!” Athena shouted and started stumbling into a run towards her father. “Where is he going?” she demanded frantically on her father and heard Jace then.
“If you want me, then come and fucking get me!”
A massive animalistic roar went up then, filling the air in growls and snarls of feral hunger, and predatory anger.
“Stop him!” Athena shouted, and began to march towards the wagon, Gabrielle still in her arms. Her baby girl, simply turned into her chest, but didn’t a cry or complain.
Athena loved her daughter for that. Never once had her baby girl cried, not even when she was born. Simply welcoming the world, bright eyes full of laughter and joy.
Hands and arms seized her, “what’re you doing? He’s going to die out there.” She saw through the gap, as possibly hundreds thunder pass the fence. All of them howling as they gave chase after the heroic human.
“That’s the…” her father tried to say as she wiggled in his grasp. Her aunt coming around to take Gabrielle off of her. “That’s the point!” Her father snapped angrily.
“W-what? What’re you saying?” Athena asked of him, shoving some of her hair tangled in front of her face aside.
“That’s the point. They go after him, we get to live,” Douglas snarled, and Athena realised then that he was angry and upset with himself. “There’ were too many of them, Athena. We wouldn’t have made it. They even pointed at him and said they wanted him. Him, Athena. Not us!”
“S-so tomorrow, they’ll just what- forget about us?” she screamed at her father. Why the hell am I so angry, she thought. Her hands clenched into fists, her clawed fingertips digging into her calloused palms. Tears flowing freely down her face. “I… I liked him,” she gasped in realisation and she clutched at the tightness in her chest.
“Dah-Dah?” her daughter asked them. She fell to her knees and wept for a man she barely known a full day. A man she had barely even spoke too.
I’m sorry, his voice laden with regret and sorrow drifting to her as he slept fitfully last night. It’s my fault. Sweat soaking his brow, as he fumbled for escape from his blanket.
No, she thought, It’s our fault now.
~*~*~*~
“Oh, fuck!” Jace shouted and weaved left ducking behind a tree and sprint diagonally. “Worse fucking idea ever. Knew I should’ve kept moving.” Twisting right Jace spun, axe flying out of his belt, and lodging in the back of a wretches knee, and throwing it of its feet and onto its back.
Then Jace saw the true scope of the what chased him and rapid fired a series of garbled curses. Stomping his foot down, Jace dislodged his axe—thank you, Douglas—turned and continued running. “You just had to start fantasising about fox-girls and mother-daughter scenarios. Didn’t you?” Jace accused himself, breathily. The cold air hitting his lungs hard.
He was almost certain; he was running back towards the direction of Parkers Hold. Or at least the pool of water. Lets see if these fuckers can swim. The only problem was, Jace realised rather quickly, is that the wretches—he was even using their term for zombies now—wouldn’t tire out like he would soon enough.
The pool he had been dragged from was a good full days march away, and that was if he even was heading in the right direction.
Jumping and hopping over a fallen tree laid horizontal, Jace skidded to a halt and spun into a crouch. His axe sliding back into his belt where it dug against his waist, and his bow unslung off his shoulder.
Reaching over his shoulder fluidly, Jace pinched the end of an arrows shaft, twisted it, and withdrew. His bow already rising, his eyes training on a target; the first wretch around the fallen trunk. Before he knew it, his arrow was nocked, and the string was drawn.
He sighted, adjusted, and loosed.
The white fletching of the arrows shaft sprouted out of a wretches forehead. It flopped down and skidded through the leaves. The others rushing around the fallen tree, stumbled over the dead wretch and falling themselves.
Jace let loose once more, pinging another through the mouth as it climbed over the banked tree and jumped for him, growling.
Slinging the bow back, Jace turned and beat feet through dark forest. Listening out for the sounds of cascading water.
More roaring howls and gurgled growls chased him as he sprinted through the tense layering of trees. Luckily for him, the wretches weren’t as good at navigating around such obstacles as Jace. He wove around the trees, making the wretches following him, stumble into each other and the towering green and brown sentinels.
They were so focused on him, that they didn’t see anything else. He could out pace them at a sprint. But the wretches seemed to have only one speed. And that was a strange sort of loping sprint. A half mad stumble and run.
Soon his breathing grew heavy, the night air playing havoc against his lungs. Making his chest constrict, as he grew winded and out of stamina.
Jace cursed, training his hearing again and seeking out any sounds other than from those chasing him. But the wretches collective feral groans was all encompassing.
His eyes had thankfully adjusted, allowing him some small measure of night vision. I should climb a tree, he thought looking around as he slowed to a slight jog. The wretches were so cluttered up behind him, that he was able to keep them at a distance. He scanned the towering bark of those tree’s he’d past. Their branches were too high for him to reach with a simply jump.
Oh, he imagined he could climb up without the need of grabbing a branch. But if he failed. Not worth it, he thought and carried on.
Eventually, his legs became weary. His legs only barely shuffling up a steep incline, he hadn’t remember crossing beforehand. Some of the wretches tried to follow him upwards, stumbling and gripping at the dirt as they tried to pull themselves along, prone on their stomachs.
Others, Jace saw, started to shuffled wide. He guessed they must’ve known of a shorter route somehow. When Jace reached the top he sat for a moment. There was a good ten feet of distance between him and the lead wretch climbing after him. The bank he’d climbed up spanned at least thirty feet in height.
“Should… find… some stones…” he wheezed and a struggled upright. “Bowl theses bitches into their crypt.” Whatever the hell a Bowl is? he thought internally.
Looking around Jace found only a few rocks as big as his head. Hefting one took him a few seconds and by the time he turned back, the lead wretch had banked the rise. “Catch,” Jace grunted and threw the large rock straight into its sternum.
The wretch crumpled around natures bowling ball, enveloping it and stumbling back over the rise. Jace heard it thump several times. Then heard several angered growls followed by more impactful thumps.
He would’ve gone over and checked the damaged, but even as the thought registered those wretches who had gone around were now stumbling up after him from his right.
Shaking his head, Jace turned back to moving on. His stride noticeably lesser.
~*~*~*~
Several hours later, Jace saw the first dawn of early light peeking down through the blackened clouds overhead. He was soo tired. His feet were barely shuffling. His legs barely moving and straining with pulsing aches, with every move.
The Wretches were still behind him. Though for some reason there were noticeably less of them than there was a few hours ago.
He heaved out each panting breath. Just making enough effort to stay ahead of the still sizable horde. He had noticed however, that as the sun rose, the wretches had lost much of their enthusiasm. Moving no better than Jace was now.
He’d detected no outwards signs of strain, nor stress. Simply lack of motor function. Some would even stop, fall to their knees and curl up in the fetal position, going quiet. If Jace had to hazard a guess, he surmised that the wretches were primarily nocturnal.
Still able to operate throughout the day, but with noticeably weaker and slower responses.
His eyes were heavy with fatigue. No longer was he listening out for the waterfall. His feet fell out from under him then. “What the--” he tried to splutter and thrash. But suddenly a stark-naked coldness enveloped his entire being, making Jace spasm with rigidity. His body locking up cold and soaking wet.
He had enough presence of mind to hold his breath as he plunged into the pool of water. Sinking, Jace fought against splashing up to the surface. The pool was rather clear thankfully, with no signs of active life.
A few seconds later there was a splash above him, as a wretch flailed and started to sink. Jace waved his hands and kicked backwards avoiding the sinking undead as it streamed passed him rather quickly.
Then more and more wretches fell and splashed into the pool, dumbly following one after the other. Even as more fell in, Jace kicked to the surface and breached long enough to take a quick breath of air and spot how many were still left to come.
Soon enough he had gathered a good thirty to forty wretches at the bottom of the pool. All bubbling with still un-life. They couldn’t swim thankfully, and for some reason were so heavy that they even had trouble moving across the bottom of the basin like pool. The surroundings banks too steep for any of them to scurry up.
If they climbed on top of each other, maybe then, but I doubt they’re intelligent enough for-- His thought was cut off as two of the wretches heads imploded in a sickening oily layer of blood that hung there in the water, before rising up.
Then Jace’ eyes widened as he caught movement from the blasted skulls. Something and sleek, and better suited to water than him. Thrashed out of the broken fragments of the head. Slid out of the mush that was the brain. And wiggled freely in the water. Then just as the second one started to the free itself. The first reoriented on Jace, and in a burst of speed propelled itself at him.
Jace’ right hand immediately slid down to his belt and shrugged his axe free. The instant it was out he swung backhandedly, as the cephalopod jarred to a halt and then dove under his swing. It spun around to fling its thin hooked tendrils wide, latching out for his face.
He snapped his left arm back and intercepted the gaping maw centred with a beak at its core. Bubbles, frothed out of his mouth as he bit back a scream of pain, as its beak dove into the flesh of his arm.
He brought his axe back around, the water making his movements dull and slow. The edge homed in all the same, cutting and biting through the cephalopods mantle. It screeched through his mind, and he rocked back internally trying to dam up a wall of blocks in his head. He pushed his axe deep into the small squid and was surprised when two of its longer tendrils latched onto it and started to push against him.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw the second one breach out of the imploded skull and swivel to shoot towards him.
Shit, shit, shit, he thought frantically, and letting go his axe he reached behind himself.
Twisting an arrow loose, he spun it around his fingers, grimacing as the cephalopods beak dug even deeper into the muscle of his forearm, tearing chunk of it away. Then he slammed the arrowhead through its rather large eye, met some resistance then jammed the shaft further until the arrow penetrated out the other side of its head.
Spinning and biting off another fit of pain, Jace flicked his axe out of the small squid and spun with it to slam the shaft into the second squid, propelling it off course.
It shot through the water and shook slightly. With another burst of its thin tentacles, it launched itself back around and shot for Jace once again. He winced as he dug his way through the dead squid still latched onto his left arm. Then when the second brain squid was within seven feet of Jace, he pried deeper, and dislodged the dead squid directly into the path of the second.
He kicked back, felt his foot hit and slide through the grip of a hand beneath and snapped his axe down, burying it through the second brain squid as it wove around its sibling.
More bubbles of air involuntarily burst from his sealed lips, as he kicked at the wretches hand trying to drag him down.
He swung down viciously twice, chopping the offending limbs grabbing at him. Hooking his axe back through his belt, Jace fumbled for the surface.
“FUCK!” he gasped as he breached, and with one hand shuffled himself over in a paddle to the pools rim. It was so damn cold. His entire left arm was numb and raw with pain. He shook fiercely and with as much effort as he could manage to prop himself up onto the flat rock surrounding the deep pool.
“N-n-need to m-m-move…” Jace chattered as he tried to stand. His whole entire being shook, his very soul felt like ice. His arm hurt badly, and felt more like dead weight to him now. The freezing climate air, made him cough and choke which increased his shakes.
“Ne-ne-need. Mo-move,” he forced himself to say. As if speaking the commands aloud would motivate him more. Jace got his feet under him and scanned around as his body spasmed from the cold frigid air. Thankfully it seemed as if most of the wretches had either fallen in the pool. Curled on the forest floor. Or, he’d simply lost them during the long march.
“G-get back, t-to the o-others,” he muttered and stepped forward. Planting one foot purposefully down, then another, and another. His attention focused solely on making each move precisely. Yet, his eyes drooped, and numbness spread throughout him. The only things keeping him wakeful was the occasional hacking cough, or when he would stumble nearly falling over.
Soon enough though it proved too much for him and collapsing to his knees, Jace past out somewhere in Trager forest.
This novel is the work of Rhys Thomas. If you are reading this and it has not been published by Rhys Thomas, then this work has been stolen. Please report this to Amazon and me at email: [email protected]