by Glynn James
Maybe they have to use a different sound for people, he thought, and he decided that he would rather not find out. To be honest, he had decided that this talent Ghafir’s elders had was a farce, something that was rumored but not actually true. He had expected to find them playing and the wolves either ignoring them or going crazy with anger at being trapped. Either way, his goal was achieved. The wolves were trapped in the building with no way out, now the gap was blocked. Whether there was a room full of angry or passive wolves didn’t really matter. They would still be killed, and it would amount to little more than a question of how many arrows were needed for the job.
But the rumors, it seemed, were true. He looked down into the chamber below and was puzzled to see that every one of the wolves was standing perfectly still. Some of them looked at the ground, and some at each other, but only one large wolf seemed to be watching the players above them. All of them, maybe twenty or more, stood perfectly still and calm.
“Let’s get this done, and quickly,” Jonah said, nodding to Ghafir, who stood a few feet away. Jonah took out his bow, dropped the quiver to his side, knelt, and notched the first arrow. Around him, lining the edge of the half-broken floor, were other warriors with bows. He had picked his best, and even had them compete in target practice for the last few days, to make sure they were up to the job.
Jonah looked down into the mass of wolves below and took aim on the large one that was watching Ghafir’s people play their strange tubes.
“Fire,” said Jonah.
And the arrows began to fall.
* * *
The Brother felt the first strike him through the shoulder. The Flying Claw came from the darkness above, from the mass of Walking Ones that stood up there, and pain jolted him from his stupor. He looked around and saw many of his kin falling to arrows, but others stood, perfectly still, captivated by the strange sounds that still came from above them.
How could he have thought that the Walking Ones above were no threat? How could he have fallen for this? A trap, surely. There were many Walking Ones up there, and many now used their Flying Claws to strike at his kin.
Dazed, he turned and ran for the exit, only to find it blocked by a solid wall.
He stopped and turned around. There must be another way out. He must have gone the wrong way. He was confused, that was all. Two more of his kin fell to the Flying Claws nearby, and another of the evil projectiles thudded into the soil next to his front paws. He jumped back, panicking, and ran at the solid wall. There was something blocking the entrance, surely. It looked as it had before but with no hole to run through.
The Brother slammed into the solid wall, but instead of it staying solid, it shifted and almost moved. Fury boiled in his mind. They had done this, the Walking Ones. That had built this thing that blocked the way, just as they built other things. He took some paces back, and was about to rush forward again to attack the wall that was not a wall, but he stumbled, feeling a pain in one of his back legs. He looked down and saw another Flying Claw sticking out from his left haunch.
The howl came from deep in his gut, louder and more desperate than any he had uttered before. The noise echoed around the chamber and brought the remaining few of his kin to their senses. Somehow, he managed to snap them out of the reverie that the Walking Ones had caused with their strange sounding sticks. He rushed forward once more, thinking that he would not be alone this time, that his kin would rush the wall that was not a wall with him. The wall buckled but soon fell back into place once more. He heard shouting from the other side, the sound of Walking Ones just the other side of the wall that was not a wall, and the anger turned to pure hatred and blind fury.
He took a few steps back, risking the Flying Claws once more, and glanced around. His kin lay dead, all of them silent and unmoving. Only he was left alive. A Flying Claw struck the wall next to him, and another glanced off his back, but he felt nothing. Another thudded into his side, but he felt nothing. He felt only rage.
He rushed the wall that was not a wall one last time, all his strength lent to the single task of escaping. He could find the young cubs hidden in the forest and take them away from this place. He would take them far to the north, deep into the darkest of the forests, where they would grow again.
* * *
Gideon felt the door shift more than he could hold it, and he cried out. Solomon held the main bulk of the door at the center, placing most of his weight in the middle, and two other warriors now pushed at the sides. Only he was holding the top when his strength gave out. The door flipped over. Whatever massive creature was slamming into it on the other side had become too much for even the four of them to take. The top of the door came down heavily into Solomon’s face, and Gideon heard a crunch as the heavy door fell on the man. The two warriors that had been helping hold the door stumbled back, thrown aside as the massive wolf burst over the top of them.
Gideon had but a second to react as he fell backwards with a face full of angry fur. He could hear other warriors around them shouting, but somehow it was muffled as he fell back, the wolf landing on him. His hand quickly darted to his waist, to the knife as the air was pushed from his lungs. His vision blurred, and he saw figures rushing forward to attack the wolf, but the creature was looking down at him.
It knows, he thought. Somehow, maybe by my scent. It knows that I’m the son of the leader. How Gideon knew was puzzling. It must have been just gut instinct, but the animal was not trying to flee, even though there were enough gaps for it to do so. Maybe it was in its eyes as it stared down on him. Some recognition.
The wolf opened its jaws, showing a set of sharp, lethal teeth, and lunged, just as Gideon managed to free the blade from his belt and thrust it upwards. He felt the blade snap, his hand still free, but he didn’t feel the pain that should follow. This was where his knife failed him and the massive angry wolf gnawed his face off. But instead he felt the wolf collapse on top of him, its breath leaving its body.
Its eyes were just inches from his, looking at him, and Gideon watched as the light in them faded until they stared blankly. The crushing weight of the wolf was lifted, and Solomon was there again, his face covered with blood and his nose strangely twisted to one side.
“You ok there, boy?” he bellowed. “Ye not dead? No bites?”
Gideon took a deep breath, finally remembering that he had stopped breathing. “No, I’m okay. Is it—”
“Yes,” said Solomon. “Damn if ya didn’t stick it right through its neck. I thought I’d lost ya, then! Jonah would kill me. Damn it.”
Solomon helped him to his feet, laughing, just as Jonah arrived.
“What the…?” Jonah looked pale.
“Yer boy here just bagged himself a king wolf,” said Solomon. “Damn thing knocked down three of us before it got to him, but he stuck it good.”
Jonah looked as though he might collapse.
“It broke my knife,” Gideon said, grinning and holding up the bladeless hilt.
Chapter 26
Rav kicked at the rail. His boot bounced off the steel, his big toe stinging from the pain that now radiated up his leg. He had begun to hate the damn things. They stretched on endlessly into the wilderness, a pair of almost perfectly parallel lines in a hideously imperfect world. He thought Briar and the other hunters felt the same way, but they had not talked about it. It was as if the past were mocking them, flaunting the technology that had once been but was no more—a relic of majestic advancement that would eventually disappear like everything else.
They had camped for the night at the trail’s edge and continued walking well into the next day. Rav saw a few signs of the runner dispatched by Briar, which worried him. If Rav could follow his trail, anybody could. If the message didn’t make it to Jonah with the runner, it would be up to Rav to get there—and soon. Either way, Jonah had to know what was facing the Elk. Then again, he expected Jonah to have some sense of what was coming his way already. The Valk appeared to be crawling out of their holes in mas
sive numbers, and the Cygoa warbands seemed to grow continuously.
“I hate these rails.”
Rav smiled at Briar and let him continue complaining.
“I want to rip them up and toss them on the ruins.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” said Rav. “I fucking hate them. Such arrogance, when you think about it.”
Briar shrugged. “I’m trying not to.”
Rav chuckled, realizing that neither of them could do much about the train tracks. They had more immediate concerns.
“Your runner. He’s leaving shit right out in the open.”
“He’s sacrificing concealment for speed,” said Briar. “I haven’t seen anyone else come up behind him before us. So, it’s not an issue.”
“Not trying to make one out of it. Just an observation.”
Briar didn’t take the conversation any further, and Rav let it go. His wounds from the fall in the breach had continued to heal, but in some ways, they hadn’t. The more he walked, the more he felt the dull ache in his bones. Maybe it wasn’t the fall after all. Maybe this is what it feels like to get old, to have one’s body deteriorate one day at a time .
The Ninety-Five trail took them over the crest of the hill with a shallow valley spreading out for several miles to the horizon. The old train tracks cut a straight but thin line through the thick forest. Rav put a hand on his forehead to keep the sun’s glare out of his eyes. He thought he could see smoke in the distance, but he couldn’t be sure. A flock of birds flew over them silently and towards the west, one of the few signs of any kind of migration he had seen all day.
Briar’s men stopped and dropped their gear. They drank from bottles and canteens, some gnawing on pieces of dried meat. Rav felt a warm breeze rush across his face, and yet a cold shiver ran down his back.
“Something ain’t right.”
Briar looked to the hunters and then held up his bow in front of Rav’s face. “Then we’ll make it right.”
“I don’t think so,” said Rav. “I can feel the vibrations coming through the soles of my boots. If it’s footfall, then it’s way, way more than we can handle.” What he didn’t say was how much it freaked the hell out of him. Footfall under the ground maybe? No. He was feeling it through the rail lines, maybe? He touched the tip of the rails with his foot and felt the vibrations increase. This wasn’t under his feet, and it couldn’t be too far away, otherwise he would never have detected it. Just the idea of the Valk spreading across the lands, out in the open and not hidden in their burrows, was unsettling. So much of the game had changed if they were willing to walk the land in daylight.
The men stopped drinking their water and stood in silence.
“Over there.” Briar pointed.
Rav looked to the east, where an old ruin sat several hundred yards off the rails. The roof had caved in years ago, but the walls stood. The brick structure looked as if a giant V had fallen from the sky to crush it. The right side of the double doors had been mangled but the left side was open. Rav could see nothing but the black hole which led inside.
“I ain’t crazy about crawling into that thing, and I’m not sure were all gonna fit in there. But what’s coming could be a whole lot worse. Nobody has spotted the underground demons since we left the depot, and now I think I know why. They’re on the move, in big numbers.”
Hunters had grabbed their things and were already moving off the rails and toward the ruin when Briar turned to Rav. “Come on.”
The more the earth shook, the faster the men ran. What began as a faint vibration grew into a stampede, or at least that’s what it sounded like to Rav’s ears. He could imagine those creatures scuttling across the surface like diseased insects. Another chill shot down his back.
Three hunters entered the structure first to scope it out. A few moments later, the last one in stuck his head back out and waved Briar and Rav inside. He stepped into the darkness with one hand on Briar’s shoulder. When Rav cleared the threshold, one of the other hunters pulled a tangled mess of wire in front of the doorway. He could see through it and out to the rails, but it would be difficult for anyone—or anything—to see inside.
Rav smelled them before he saw them. The Valk stench reminded him of the refuse pits in the woods, the ones left behind by the nomadic clans. Those people filled the pits with their own waste and what was left of the animals they hunted. The odor was enough to make one gag. And now, it was as if Rav had fallen into one of the pits. His eyes burned, and he breathed shallowly through his mouth to keep the stink from filling his nostrils. He heard the other hunters gasp as they tried to scramble deeper into the dark recess of the ruin.
Briar appeared on his right and used his fingers to separate two strands of wire that blocked his vision. Rav looked through the opening with Briar and saw what had come down the rails only minutes behind them.
The Valk lumbered more than marched. They pushed each other, sometimes bearing their fangs in silent snarls. Some had blackened the skin around their eyes while others had dark streaks running down their faces. Dozens of them passed by. Rav held his breath, and he noticed that none of Briar’s men moved either.
“There could be hundreds of those things, maybe even thousands,” Briar said through gritted teeth.
Rav waited until the last of the Valk passed by before turning to face Briar. “And if that is only one warband, we’re in some serious shit.”
The hunters emerged from the darkness, coming up behind Briar and looking through the doorway and toward the rails.
“They are moving slowly, but if they are as relentless as I’ve heard, it’s possible they’ll overtake my runner.”
“I know,” said Rav “We either have to stop them or get ahead of them. We need to warn Jonah.”
“Do you think they’re headed to Raleigh?”
Rav moved aside as the hunters pulled the tangle of wire away from the doorway and stepped back out into the forest. The stench of the Valk hung in the air, overpowering even the fragrant aroma of the pine trees.
“They are following the tracks now, but we have no idea why or for how long. We can only assume they are on the hunt. Why else would they be on the surface?”
“I don’t know, Rav. I’m afraid to assume anything about those beasts. There has to be somebody in the clans, someone serving Jonah, who has an idea of what to do about the Valk.”
Rav walked to the top of the rise with Briar and they looked out over the rails once again. He looked closer now and noticed that the Ninety-Five trail angled toward the east.
“We can’t outrun them if they never stop to rest, but maybe we don’t have to.” Rav pointed, and Briar nodded. “If we take the angle, we can get out ahead of them.”
Briar nodded. “I’m not sure we have much of a choice. Let’s go.”
Chapter 27
The lake wasn’t as clean as the reservoir near the village in the forest, and the surface of the water was different too. The water rippled continuously, as though some vast creature stirred far down in the depths. Having seen several lakes in her travels, Seren had come to believe that the reservoir was probably the only clean water left in the world, fed by the melting ice from the mountains where there was no taint; she could see almost to the bottom when the fish were still. But this lake, south of the ruins of Burlington, was thick with dirt and almost brown in color.
“We should boil the water from there,” she said as Declan was about to refill his bottle.
Declan stopped, looked at the water, and nodded. “Sure, yeah. Probably a good idea. Just means we’ll be longer, and the farther we are from Greensboro the better.”
“We’re nearly a day’s travel already,” said Seren.
Declan frowned. “Though it’s taken us two.” He shrugged and looked at her, and she knew she had to say something otherwise he’d be beating himself for the whole journey. Seren was quiet for a moment. She didn’t want to dig at Declan’s pride any more than necessary. The right words, that was what was needed. �
�You’ll heal soon enough,” she said. “It was a nasty wound. You’ve done well to even live after that.”
Declan slumped to the floor and started setting up a small camp fire. It wasn’t dark yet, still only half-way through the afternoon, so they could light a fire if they kept it small and avoided too much smoke. Seren collected wood and they sat and waited for the lake water to boil. Sorcha didn’t seem bothered by the color of the water and took her fill before lying in the shade of a nearby tree.
It was half an hour later, after they had boiled a second pot of water and left the water to cool in the bottles, that they heard the crack of branches nearby. Seren was up with her bow in a few seconds, but Declan struggled to rise. Seren glanced around the small clearing looking for her arrows and spotted them at the other side.
