The throwback twitched almost imperceptibly, then lunged. Tiger stepped in, rotating the blade edge out, parallel to his forearm, dragging it across the beast’s neck and severing the head from its body. As it fell, he spun around, totally spent and swaying drunkenly, to see the boy crouching in the water a few feet away, the saya still clutched against his trembling body. He breathed a sigh of relief, took a tentative step, then another towards the boy, collapsing as darkness overtook him.
A woman came running down the hill towards them from around the back of the nearby cabin, carrying a rifle in her hands.
“Richard! Richard are you hurt?” she exclaimed as she reached him. “What the hell happened? I heard you all the way out at the north end! Are you okay?” She wrapped an arm around the child, pulling him against her side, eyes wild, breathless as she took in the scene before her. He sniffled against her briefly; his fingers twisting in her shirt, then he jerked away from her, pointing toward Tiger.
“Mom! Mom, we need to help him! He’s hurt bad! The monster came after me, but he saved me! He cut his head off just like a super ninja!” Richard was still gripping the saya in his hand, shaking like a leaf, eyes wide. He moved towards Tiger, but she pulled him back.
She glanced briefly at the saya and looked around at the carnage. A headless beast lay on the other side of the creek, black blood soaking into the ground, and a long-haired young man, sword in hand, lay unconscious facedown and halfway in the creek bed, bloody water swirling around his torso. “Wait here,” she ordered.
She approached him cautiously, rifle still in her hand. She could see that he was breathing and could tell that his shoulder was probably injured. Crouching down, she gingerly plucked the katana from his hand and set it aside. His fingers twitched slightly, as if missing the contact; he moaned softly but didn’t rouse.
Rolling him over carefully, she gasped when she saw the torn shirt and bloody punctures marring his chest just above his left nipple. She knew about the throwbacks and knew what would happen to him. Stepping back, she raised the rifle and pointed it at his head.
“No, what are you doing? You can’t kill him! He saved me!” Richard threw himself across Tiger’s body, tears running down his cheeks.
“Get away from him! I told you to stay back” she barked. “He’ll die anyway. If we don’t do this, he’ll kill us or someone else sooner or later. If he’s a good man, he wouldn’t want to live with that.”
“No, we have to try at least. It’s not fair. He wouldn’t have saved me if he wasn’t a good guy. Can’t you use one of your poultices to get the poison out? Maybe the docs can help him if we give him a chance to get to them. Please!”
She stared at Richard for a few moments, then sighed in resignation. Killing a stranger who risked his life to save her only child was a poor way of showing her gratitude after all.
“I just know I’m going to regret this,” she grumbled. Grabbing the katana and Richard, she trudged back to the cabin. She wiped the blade clean and, taking the saya from Richard, slid it back into the sheath, then hung it and the rifle back on the wall.
She arched an eyebrow at Richard. “Stay here. I mean it this time, and no messing around with either of those, got it?”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied meekly.
Grabbing a bed sheet out of the closet and the key to the ATV, she rushed out the door and hitched the flatbed to the ATV, then gunned the engine and raced down to the creek.
Tucking Tiger’s left hand tighter into his shirt, she sat him up and wrapped the sheet carefully around his torso to immobilize his arms. Thankfully, Tiger wasn’t a large man, so she didn’t have too hard a time dragging him out of the creek and up the ramp onto the flatbed. She drove slowly back to the cabin trying not to jostle Tiger too much over the uneven ground.
With Richard’s help, she managed to get Tiger into her bed and stripped him down to his briefs. She briefly appreciated the view, but he was too young for her, not to mention the whole ‘could become a monster issue’. He looked like he was maybe twenty-three, barely older than a child himself.
While Richard cleaned Tiger up, she threw his clothes and the sheet into the washer and prepared the poultice. She’d been a nurse before marrying her farmer-husband and was well versed in both modern medicine and home remedies.
She was still trying to figure out how he’d managed to kill that thing with only a sword. Why the hell wasn’t he carrying some kind of firearm? No one traipsed around the countryside unarmed.
When she came back into the bedroom, Tiger was still unconscious. Placing the poultice on the wound, she pressed lightly to make sure it had good contact, then taped a bandage in place over it. Tiger didn’t react at all. Next, she manipulated his dislocated arm back into place and used strips from a torn-up sheet to immobilize the arm.
Fortunately, aside from the dislocation and the bite, he only had minor cuts and bruises… she hoped. There was always the possibility of a concussion, since she had missed most of the fight. Prying his eyelids up, she checked his pupils, startled by the violet color of his irises, but saw no signs of a concussion.
“Now we wait” she told Richard. “He’ll probably be out for a while. I’m going to go move that thing away from the creek. We can put it in the barn until tomorrow, then bury it in the morning. I don’t want any animals feeding off it.”
She went back into the living room, took the rifle down and returned to the bedroom. Pulling a chair up near the side of the bed, she sat Richard down and leaned the rifle against the wall within easy reach.
“Keep an eye on him and don’t touch the rifle unless he wakes up. Yell for me if he does. I won’t be long, and I’ll start dinner when I get back.” She gently tipped Richard’s chin up so she could make eye contact with him. “You doing okay, buddy?”
“Yeah. I’m not afraid anymore. He protected me, so I know he’s not going to do anything.” She smiled fondly and left the room.
There was no way they could call for help since the farm was in the back country and the transmitter was on the fritz… again. She really needed to have someone check it out, but she just kept putting it off. Damn thing never worked right half the time. Next time she picked up supplies she probably should just see if she could find a good used replacement. She wouldn’t have time to wait around for repairs and they couldn’t afford to be without one at the farm for long. Maybe she could get a loaner from Ben until he could fix hers.
Anyway, calling the government toadies would probably mean an automatic death sentence for the poor kid. They’d lock him up, use him as a lab rat, then let him die. None of them knew what the hell they were doing most of the time.
With her husband long dead, it was just her and Richard running the farm now, with the occasional seasonal hired hands. One worker from last season had been especially sweet with Richard and she thought maybe he was interested in her, but he was a bit on the shy side. Still, he was smart, reliable and ambitious. He was only trying to build up a grubstake to start his own farm.
Tobias had promised to return this season and she had decided that maybe she needed to take the initiative in pursuing a relationship with the bashful hunk. Richard needed a father and she was still an attractive woman. She was tired of sleeping alone in her cold bed at night.
In the meantime, they were on their own. They’d just have to do what they could for their patient with what they had on hand. She was an excellent herbalist and had built up quite an impressive resume of unique cures using the local plants. They certainly couldn’t do any worse than the so-called scientists.
Chapter 2
Tiger drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few days. He was in unbearable pain but the woman, Elvi, had nothing but herbal medicine to help alleviate it.
He shivered and convulsed and moaned, thrashing around in the bed. He ran a high fever and babbled in his delirium. Something about a friend named Takuma who had apparently been killed during the war, and a superior who had abused Tiger.
It sounded like he’d been tortured. He begged the person he called Harriott to stop, telling him he’d be court martialed. That’s when she figured out that he either was currently or had been a soldier. Apparently not all government men were useless after all. Who knew?
He wasn’t really dressed like a soldier, but he had on some kind of bad-ass semi-military outfit that was probably comfortable and blended with his surroundings. Stylish commando chic. He was also sporting a silver earring, a few silver rings, and a heavy cast silver bracelet that looked Celtic in design, which seemed inconsistent with the whole soldier theme but who was she to judge.
Silver was very rare on Corvan and the items looked old and well-worn so Elvi speculated that they were probably family heirlooms. They would be worth a lot to collectors. One ring looked like a signet with a tiger. It might have an inscription, but she wasn’t about to try to remove it to check… unless he… well, she could worry about that later if they needed it to identify the body.
The bracelet was strange. Whenever she touched it, it seemed to have a vibration to it and had a calming effect on her.
It made Elvi sad to think that such a brave and beautiful young man might die so tragically before he’d even had a chance to experience a full life. She wondered if he had friends and family who would miss him.
One could only call him beautiful, not handsome, because he had long thick silky raven hair that he wore braided to the side and fine features that were almost feminine. He had a muscular but lean body, like a gymnast, pale soft skin and exotic violet eyes with a tiny ring of silver around the iris; obviously not one hundred percent human.
He looked to be about five foot eight, probably in his early twenties, and had very little body hair. Even after three days he had only a little scruff on his face and she knew he had to have been in the field for a while. His fingers were long and slender, but he had calluses on his right hand, no doubt from long hours of practice with his weapon.
Elvi sat at his side and wiped away the perspiration from Tiger’s face and neck, cooling him with a damp rag. He had leaves and twigs stuck in his hair that she had tried to pick out without much success. Finally, she gave up and pulled the braid apart, running her fingers through it to spread it out across the pillow so she could run a comb through it.
If he wore it loose, it would probably hang to his butt when standing. When she was done, she braided it again to keep it from tangling. She was slightly jealous… she’d never been able to grow her hair out like that.
As she sat with him, she mused about what type of person he was, and her mind wandered. Did he have a good sense of humor or a stick up his ass? Was he shy like Tobias or a hellcat? Did he like children? Was he married? Probably not at his age. Straight or gay, or maybe bi? Boxers or briefs she threw in just as a joke and giggled in her head, recalling an old clothing advertisement.
‘Well I pretty much know the answer to that one now. Thank god he didn’t go commando! Well…. that would’ve made things interesting’ she thought and blushed at the image that popped into her head. ‘I really need to get laid.’ She sighed heavily. Fatigue was obviously catching up with her.
Richard came in every couple of hours to see if she needed anything and to give her a break so she could cook and take care of her own needs. He’d been handling most of the chores so that Elvi could stay with Tiger, but he was still too young to do some things, like the cooking, although he was learning. Every man should know how to cook in Elvi’s opinion, especially if he was a bachelor, unless he wanted to end up eating crap all his life.
The body of the beast had been buried with a small marker bearing the name of Robert Severen. After all, he couldn’t help what he’d become. They both hoped that his soul had found peace at least. They’d found his name on the death warrant in Tiger’s backpack.
Richard had found Tiger’s pack and rifle in the forest the next morning but there was nothing in the pack or on him to identify who or what he was. If he really was military, most likely it was to prevent being identified by any enemies.
She knew there was a possibility he was a mercenary. He didn’t have the look of a tradesman or farmer, not with those weapons. The rifle and handgun they’d found in his pack looked like military issue, but that brought her back again to the possibility that he was a mercenary. Mercenaries weren’t all bad. They served a purpose, but some of them were nasty characters.
The warrant, though… that looked like something more likely to be issued to a military sniper rather than a bounty hunter. Well, she’d find out one way or another. If he didn’t survive, she’d contact the authorities to claim the body and they could identify him.
They’d set up a cot in her room so she could nap while keeping an eye on her patient. Richard sat in the chair on the other side of the bed and took Tiger’s sword hand in his own, rubbing lightly at the calluses. His skin was so cold. The pulse was there but very faint.
Tiger was still for once, his breaths shallow but the fever seemed to have broken. Elvi had taken the last poultice off that morning and his wound showed no signs of infection. It seemed to be healing well but of course the virus would still be in his system.
“Do you think he’s gonna be okay?” Richard asked.
“I think maybe he’s past the worst of it if he’s not too weak to recover,” Elvi replied. “He’s small but he seems pretty strong. After all, he took down a throwback single-handed with just a sword. I’d say his odds of beating this look good.” She lay down to sleep on the cot that night, feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders, worn to the bone but hopeful.
The next morning Elvi was awakened by the rustling of bed sheets. She startled and grabbed for the rifle but what she saw was a pair of bewildered violet eyes staring back at her from her bed.
“Hi” she said and leaned back onto the cot, hand still resting lightly on the rifle. “How are you feeling?”
“Um… confused… and pretty sore?” he croaked. What happened? Where am I?” Tiger shifted, trying to sit up. He winced and slumped back onto the pillows taking a ragged breath.
Elvi got up and walked over to the bed, trying to gauge his mental and physical condition. He seemed lucid and non-threatening, so she helped him sit up and propped the pillows behind him, careful of his injured shoulder. Just his luck to have the bite and dislocation centered right in the same shoulder. She helped him drink some water.
“My name’s Elvi, short for Elvira, and you’re at my farm. You were hurt when you fought with that throwback down by the creek. Do you remember? You saved my son Richard, but you passed out after killing that thing.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I remember the fight and turning around afterwards to see your boy crouching in the water with my saya in his hands, then nothing until now. Did he tell you he found my katana in the creek and slipped to me just in the nick of time? He’s a brave little squirt. He’s okay, isn’t he? How long have I been out?” He rubbed at his chest, then the color drained from his face as he remembered being bitten. “Shit! Oh! Gomen’nasai… um, sorry!” He blushed, lowering his eyes.
“It’s okay. I’m no prude. I used to be married to an ex-soldier and he knew swear words I didn’t even know the meaning of. Just try to keep it in check around Richard.”
“You’ve been pretty sick. It’s been three days since the attack. I think I managed to draw all the poison out. Your shoulder was dislocated so I had to reset it, and we’ll need to keep it strapped up for a while till it heals. Any dizziness or headache? Do you remember if you hit your head?”
“No, I got knocked around some, but I managed to avoid anything serious.… outside of nearly having my arm ripped off and being bitten by a rabid monster. Damn! I’m surprised you didn’t just blow my head off while you had the chance.”
“You have Richard to thank for that. You’re a soldier, right? Were you tracking that thing?”
“Yeah, I’ve been on his trail for a week. They dispatched me out of Fort
Yamano. I’m UCAR Lieutenant Specialist Toro Enya Yamano, but everyone just calls me Tiger.”
“Why Tiger? Wait… your last name is Yamano? As in Fort Yamano?”
He blushed again. “Yeah, I get that reaction from everybody. They renamed the place after my dad when he was killed. Toro means Tiger in Japanese. My parents were both from Old Earth. My father was Japanese, Native American and Irish, and my mother was Fae. I have my father’s height, hair color, and bad temperament. Everything else comes from my mother’s genes. I lost them both when I was still young, so I kinda became the unofficial mascot of my dad’s regiment and grew up at the fort.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that. Wait! What? You’re saying you’re part fairy? How is that even physically possible? I thought they were a myth. Do you have any magical powers?”
Tiger rolled his eyes and counted to ten. How many times had he heard that in his short lifetime?
The Fae had ‘come out’ so to speak after the discovery of other inhabited planets with various intelligent lifeforms. After seeing what else was out there in the universe, the concept of elves and faeries seemed rather tame by comparison. They were smart enough, however, to keep a tight lid on their abilities around other species. ‘Ignorance is bliss’ was their motto. If what they were truly capable of became public knowledge, they’d probably be killed or hunted down for various unscrupulous purposes.
Tiger looked human enough that most people had no idea what he was, but they could tell that he wasn’t entirely human due to his strange eyes.
“Yeah, well, people used to think aliens were a myth too. Surprise! I’m not a fairy. I’m part Elven. They’re actually slightly taller than most humans, generally have white hair and pointed ears, but I get my height and ears from my dad’s Japanese heritage. I don’t have wings and I don’t scatter pixie dust wherever I go. As far as I know, the only power I have is the ability to piss people off at light speed, which tends to get me in a lot of trouble,” he groused.
Tiger Page 2
