The Timber Effect

by Jacklyn Reynolds

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author's imagination.

  The Timber Effect. Copyright © 2016. All Rights Reserved.

  Printed and bound in the United States of America by Barnes&Noble, New York, NY

  www.barnesandnoble.com

  Cover design by Jacklyn Reynolds

  Cover photograph @ Pexels

  Reynolds, Jacklyn 1988 –

  The Timber Effect / Jacklyn Reynolds. – Second Edition

  Pages cm

  MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  Second Edition

  Dedicated to Matthew, Rick, Laura, and Starlin. Thank you for believing in my ability to put miscellaneous words in random orders that apparently make sense.

  It was nearing the hour of midnight and the pale light of the full moon shone brightly through the windows of a rickety, old white farmhouse. Outside, crickets sang their nightly lullaby and the breeze rustled the tall grass. The horses, goats, and pigs slept quietly in the barn secure and locked in their stalls and pins. It was no different from any other calm summer night in the town of Fort Benton, in northern Montana.

  Jonathan and Mary Zanther were sitting in the living room with their one-year-old daughter Elizabeth, who was finally falling asleep next to the family dog. Nothing about the moon or the crackling fire suggested that this would be the last night the three of them would ever be together. The clock struck midnight and the silence was broken by the border collie. She sprung to her feet, waking Elizabeth, and started barking at the front door. Jonathan, being a man who trusted the instinct of his animals, grabbed the poker from beside the fireplace and placed himself in front of his wife and child. Nothing, however, could prepare him for what was racing towards the house.

  With a crash that shook the entire building, an enormous brown and gray wolf burst through the screen door, breaking it off of its hinges. Jonathan yelled at Mary to take Elizabeth to the barn and ride to town. Within a short second, the wolf sprang at Jonathan, ripping open his neck and spraying the floor with blood. The collie tried to save her master but she stood no chance against the hungry wolf.

  After the immediate shock wore off, Mary ran, carrying the baby out through the back door and to the barn. Elizabeth screamed as her mother opened the stall and mounted the fastest horse they had. They took off into the night, speeding through the strawberries as fast as they could, but they could not outrun the wolf. Out of nowhere, it leaped up and knocked Mary and Elizabeth off of the horse.

  Mary dropped Elizabeth as the wolf bit her side. Screams filled the air as the woman was eaten alive, only four feet from the terrified infant. Within moments, Mary was gone down the animal's throat and he rounded on the small girl. He jumped but the tips of his claws were the only thing that touched her. A flash of gold light and brilliant snowy white wings came out of nowhere and sixteen-year-old Elizabeth Zanther woke with a start.

  Upon realizing that she was safe and she was having another nightmare, she got up and went for a walk through the woods outside the city walls alone to clear her head. She ambled along in a silk robe of white that fell to her bare feet and a crisp white camisole and denim shorts. She was on her way to anywhere but where she came from. Her footsteps were light and silent as she approached the lake. Danger usually resided near the water and there was no moon to light the ground so Elizabeth had to be extra cautious. When the lake came into view, Elizabeth stopped, listening for any noise that would tell her that she was not alone. However, all she could hear was the breeze and an owl hooting somewhere nearby. She stepped out into the clearing and looked around. She was completely alone and for that she was happy. Elizabeth pulled her long, curly brown hair away from her pale round face, knelt at the water's edge and cupped her hands to drink.

  She sat in the comfort of the silence on a lifted root and began to drift back to sleep. She felt as though she had just relaxed when she heard a twig break somewhere off to her left. Her heart raced as her body tensed and she anticipated a fight. She leaped to her feet with surprising speed and agility. She pulled a knife out of a sheath that she had strapped to her lower thigh and braced herself.

  A slightly muscular young man who looked no older than seventeen came through the trees holding a small tin bucket. He saw Elizabeth and his russet eyes got round with awe and he dropped the bucket he was carrying.

  "It's okay I'm not going to hurt you," he said with a slight southern accent. Elizabeth thought maybe he was originally from Texas or Georgia. "I'm Daniel Brogan."

  "Elizabeth Zanther," she replied. Her voice was warm and soft but her tone was alert. "Were you following me?"

  "No," said Daniel. "I live a short distance from here to the south. I'm here for water for tomorrow."

  "Why not just come in the morning?" asked Elizabeth, lowering the dagger but she wasn't ready to put it away yet.

  "I couldn't sleep," said Daniel, running a hand through his dark hair. "I got a letter from my baby sister yesterday. She got accepted to a university in California after she finishes high school in June."

  "I would think that you would be happy," said Elizabeth.

  "I am," said Daniel. "But Grace has never been away from home before. I worry about her."

  Elizabeth studied him with her ice blue eyes for a moment and then she put her knife away. She sat down on the tree root and motioned for Daniel to join her. He moved with caution so as not to scare her and sat down to her right.

  "If I may ask," said Elizabeth, "how long have you been imprisoned here?"

  "Since I was twelve," said Daniel. "I was catching fireflies in the backyard when I was attacked. How about you?"

  "I was one," said Elizabeth. "I don't remember anything before I was brought here. I don't remember my attack. I don't even remember what my parents really looked like though I see them in nightmares."

  "I'm sorry," said Daniel. His long face fell a little. "It must be hard to have no memories of a life outside these fences."

  "I would imagine that it's easier to have no memories than to be ripped away from your family and still remember what they were like. They must miss you."

  "My sister Grace does," said Daniel. "My father isn't happy that his only son had to be locked away. He hasn't written me a letter in years. Grace said he's putting all of his energy into putting her through college. I guess my other sister ran away, which almost killed my mother. She was spoiled and selfish. I don't think she's going to make it that far in life."

  "Are all families like yours," asked Elizabeth curiously.

  "No. Some are better, some are worse, some stay together and some fall apart." Daniel looked a little bitter for a moment. "Either way, having a family, no matter how dysfunctional, is still better than this place."

  "Well, as soon as I turn eighteen I'm getting out of here," declared Elizabeth. "I don't care if the Highers find out or not."

  "You know that escape from here is nearly impossible," warned Daniel.

  "Nearly. Not completely."

  "You seem like one of the lucky ones the Highers will let go," said Daniel glumly.

  "Come with me," said Elizabeth. "We could escape together."

  Daniel smiled and his eyes lit up. "I would like that."

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Elizabeth could tell that Daniel wanted to say something so she asked him to say what he was thinking. He looked surprised at being asked so directly and he took a moment to respond.

  "I think you're beautiful and I wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me sometime. I know a spot that has a lot of deer."

  "I would love to see you again," said Elizabeth. "Maybe right here when the moon is full."

  Daniel smiled. He got up
and grabbed his bucket and filled it. When he looked up, Elizabeth had gone.

  .

  Timber Elizabeth Brogan was, for the most part, the average seventeen-year-old girl in many ways. As was true for most independent girls who were coming up on eighteen, she loved spending her free time with her four best friends. She adored them all to pieces and she told them almost everything. Yet, she worried about what they would do if they found out that she was different from everyone they knew. What set Timber apart, aside from her unusual name of course, was her darkest secret.

  Timber's parents, Daniel and Elizabeth Brogan were from a world that was separate from the one in which she now lived. That world was something Timber knew about but was afraid of. When Timber was nine years old, Daniel and Elizabeth were out on their usual monthly trek through the forest. They were both gunned down by the Hunters a couple of hours into the night. Timber felt devastated and abandoned even though she knew they did not leave her of their own accord.

  Weeks after her parent's death, Timber had been discovered half alive. She was then sent to live with her father's youngest sister Grace, her husband Chad and their only daughter Emily. Grace, Chad, and Emily accepted Timber into the family with open arms knowing full well about her secret and some of the challenges that came with it. They took care of her and loved her as though she had always been with them and for that, Timber would be eternally grateful. The whole family was good-natured and friendly which was wonderful in helping Timber recover from her tragedy.

  Chad and Grace both worked steady, well-paying jobs although Timber did not know exactly what it was that they did. She asked them a few times but she never got a direct answer so she gave up. Timber told herself that they must be working on something top-secret and they were not allowed to tell anyone. Timber liked to think that they were doing research for the government or something along those lines. The only thing she knew for sure was it was in the field of medicine because Grace knew exactly what to do in every medical situation Timber had ever needed her for. She had two medical degrees and she was a registered nurse. Timber had never in her life gone to the doctor for anything other than the shots necessary for school. Grace had always tended to her because she required special care. It would cause havoc if she Turned on the doctor's table.

  The small city the four of them lived in was calm and quiet. It was, in most terms, a small town of over seven thousand people, with very little room for growth. On the west side of town, there were eighty-five-foot cliffs that dropped down to the Pacific Ocean. On the south, there was the gentle Noyo River and Lt. Charles Larson Memorial Noyo River Bridge, (known to locals as Noyo Bridge). Below, was Noyo Harbor, which housed the town's own fishing community. On the north side of town, there was Pudding Creek, which flowed into the ocean under the old logging railroad trestle, now called Pudding Creek Bridge. Then, on the east side of town, and expanding to the north and south borders was about three thousand square miles of preserved Redwood forest.

  Fort Bragg, which was the name of the town, was an old logging town founded in the late 1880s. In the past, there would be trucks loaded down with fresh-cut logs coming back into town and going down Main Street, or coming from Haul Road. Most of the trucks usually left and returned on Highway 20, which went east to the town of Willits, before turning south to Clearlake. The full loads would be taken to the Mendo Mill & Lumber CO. The piercing shift-change whistles were so like clockwork, people all over town used them to tell time. Now, there was no whistle now since the mill was demolished.

  It was the first day in August and fast approaching the first day of her last year of high school when Timber Brogan's story began. It was some thirty minutes past six in the evening and dusk had settled over her. Everything around her was generally quiet. The only sounds were cricket chirps and an occasional loud vehicle speeding a few streets over. The clear, late summer sky was turning deep blue from the pink and plum purple it had been a moment ago, and stars were becoming visible one by one. The row of fifty-year-old homes and yellowing lawns on her street were progressively becoming darker as the light faded away. Timber was walking home alone after spending the afternoon with her best friend Xianna Greydlan, who lived eleven blocks away. She had just turned the corner of Livingston Street when she felt someone watching her. She stopped and looked all around but she didn't see anything out of the ordinary though there was a foul stench in the air that she did not like.

  She started walking again though she kept her guard up. The aroma of strong body odor, old, unwashed socks, beer, and cigarette smoke reached her small, slight pointed nose and it made Timber want to vomit. She had always had a keen sense of smell and sensitive ears, but she had rarely smelled anything so disgusting though she had a strong suspicion as to the source of the scent. She heard someone trying to sneak up on her and she spun around. She came face to face with her neighbor from up the street; a man who had always made Timber extremely uneasy. He was large and unclean and she had caught him watching the neighborhood girls on several occasions. He was short for a man, standing an inch taller than her but he was twice her size in width.

  "Where'r ya com'n' from, Timber?" he asked. He had a sick tone in his voice and Timber's muscles tensed up and her brain went on high alert.

  Timber could smell the large amount of alcohol he had drunk. She wished her uncle would come around the corner soon on the way home from work because she couldn't risk exposing her secret but she couldn't defend herself otherwise.

  "Could you please leave, Greg," said Timber with a clear tone of warning. She did not want trouble. She only wanted to go home.

  "Come on Timber. We're friends right?" said Greg, stepping closer.

  Timber backed away slowly but she kept her eyes fixed on Greg. He was looking at her up at down as though she was some sort of delectable treat. Timber was overcome with the feeling that he was undressing her with his eyes. She felt violated. She wanted nothing more than to scream but her vocal cords could not produce that loud of a sound in her current state of panic.

  "No, we're not friends. I don't like you. Please leave me alone," said Timber with a shaking voice.

  She wanted to run as fast as she could the other way but her body would not cooperate. It wanted to Turn and fight, not run away. Greg grabbed her by the wrist out of the blue and pulled her into him. Timber pushed away and scratched him hard across the face with her sharp fingernails. A small amount of blood to trickle down his cheeks. He released her wrist and covered his cheek with his hand. He raised his other hand and Timber threw her arms in front of her face and ducked, as she prepared for the strike.

  "How dare you! Ya little -"

  "I believe that she made it quite clear that she does not want to be grabbed or bothered in any way," said a stern voice. Timber looked to her right and saw a rather good-looking man in his early twenties crossing the street in a calm hurry. He looked as if he had worked out recently judging by a large amount of sweat on the front of his plain gray t-shirt. "I would leave her alone if I were you; unless, of course, you want me to get the police involved."

  Greg sized him up, grunted and stalked back indignantly across his dead, unkempt lawn and into his house. Timber, still a little shaken, looked at the man who had saved her. He was at least six feet tall and thin. His sand colored hair was long enough to run her fingers through and show his dark roots. He had brilliant hazel eyes that shone bright like the moon reflecting on the ocean. He looked a little tired and underfed but overall he seemed alert. He was carrying an old string tie gym bag and on his feet were graying running shoes. Timber could smell a familiar scent coming from him over his musky cologne but she could not pinpoint where she knew that scent from. His eyes too, seemed familiar. They made her think of marshmallows. It made her heart pound.

  "Thank you for rescuing me, Sir," said Timber shyly, all of a sudden very aware of her slightly large size. She turned pink and started curling her freshly painted toes, causing her sandals to slide a bit. She couldn't understand
her body's reaction to him and it made her feel insecure.

  "You're quite welcome," said the man. His eyes looked almost excited. "So your name is Timber? It's a rather unusual name, but I think it suits you."

  "Thank you," said Timber, looking anywhere but his eyes. "Are you new here? I know all the neighbors and I've never seen you before."

  "Yes, I am," he said. "I live up the road in the little white duplex. I just got into town about two hours ago."

  "That's across the street from my aunt and uncle's house. We're neighbors. So may I ask your name, Sir?"

  "Of course, how rude of me," he said, holding out his hand in a polite manner. Timber took it and felt a soothing warmth spread from her hand through the rest of her body like ocean waves crashing gently onto the shoreline. "My first name is Ferdinand but I prefer to be addressed by my middle name, which is Henry."

  "I'm very glad to have met you, Henry," said Timber. The two of them were abruptly basked in yellow light and Timber looked up to see the street lights just starting to turn on which was her signal that she should have already been home. "I have to get home now. My aunt will worry if I'm not home in a few minutes."

  "Please allow me to walk you home," said Henry. "You have my word you can trust me. I would like to make sure you get home safely."

  Timber sensed nothing but sincerity from him and so she allowed him to walk her to the house in the middle of the block. They walked in silence, though Timber stole an occasional glance at the figure beside her. Henry had a sturdy, physique that looked as though he did actually work out every once in a while. She had to admit to herself that the man was rather stunning. Being only five foot four, Timber's head was barely taller than his shoulder. Within a few minutes, they reached Timber's home, opened the gate, and strode across a dying lawn and up to her front porch where her Aunt Grace greeted her enthusiastically.

  "Timber!" she cried in her thick southern accent, pulling her niece into a tight hug. "Jessica called me and said that you had a confrontational encounter with Greg. I was just comin' out to get you." She pushed Timber's bushy brown hair back, looking for any sign of injury. "Are you alright?"