The Enhanced Series Box Set

by T. C. Edge

  He smiles weakly. It’s the best he can do right now.

  I take his hand and a new silence resumes, but for the quiet clicking of bugs and the occasional chirp of a strange bird. It’s oddly peaceful here, the sun peeking through a break in the clouds and laying a warm blanket on the little clearing ahead.

  But within no time at all, the peace is disrupted once more, nothing but a brief lull. Zander comes back over to us, hazel eyes searching through narrow sockets.

  “OK, break’s over. Let’s go.”

  There’s a worry to his voice, a tension that won’t fade until we’re back in the safe hands of the Nameless.

  “How far are we from the church?” I ask, referring to the rebel headquarters.

  “Hours,” he tells me. “We won’t get there before nightfall. And that’s when it’s most dangerous.”

  “But we’ve lost them,” I say.

  He turns his eyes to the dark green forest.

  “It’s not them I’m talking about.”

  130

  We’ve outrun our pursuers. And we’ve outrun the daylight too.

  It’s growing dark up above, dusk all but ready to fall. My body aches through action, the endless slog through the marshlands and woods taking a great deal of energy when I have so little to give. Adryan is struggling badly, but refuses to give in. Zander refuses to ask him if he’s OK. It’s as if there’s a silent pact between the two to not draw attention to weakness.

  He does ask me, though, and I assure him I’m fine. But after several days of neglect locked in that chair, I’m flagging badly. My mind is wavering, losing itself as we trek on and on with no real way to discern our progress.

  Far away as we are, even the lofty summit of the High Tower is absent from view. Perhaps if we were to climb a tree to get a better look it would appear, somewhere away in the distance. But down here in the bush and bog, we have no features to determine our course except the endless trunks of trees and the little ponds and puddles that populate the swamplands.

  On occasion, we reach another clearing, and Zander performs another check to make sure we’re going in the right direction. Above the trees, I see the faint sign of the mountains so far away. After another hour, I see them again, and note that they look exactly the same; that we’ve covered such a short amount of ground to make the view appear nigh on identical.

  I let myself smile only briefly at seeing the high peaks, topped with snow. I think back to only a couple of nights ago, when I’d seen a fire flickering inside a cave, wondering whether the rumours of the mountain dwellers had been true all along or if it was merely some trick of the light, some lie manifested inside my mind.

  When I looked upon the peaks from that high window, I had no hope that I’d ever be out here, looking up at the mountains from this vantage.

  I could, should I wish, continue on towards them. Please the selfish person inside me, the adventurer who wants to explore and get as far away from the city of Haven as possible.

  But then, that internal adventurer is tired, and weak, and easily overpowered by the gratefulness I need to show my brother.

  He broke me free. He broke Adryan free. Just like he did with Drum all those weeks ago. Back then, I promised him that I’d complete my mission in return. I didn’t. I failed. But at least I tried.

  Now, I have more debt to pay. More red in my ledger. I will, once again, need to accede to any demand he makes. If he wishes it, I will become a soldier. I will fight with him, side by side, and have another crack at crushing Cromwell.

  Because, really, I guess that’s still the main aim. Although something tells me it won’t be anywhere nearly as simple this time. He knows we’re coming now. Unless Burns does something from the inside, he’ll be untouchable.

  But whatever Zander wants, I’ll do. But only if it comes from him. Lady Orlando has earned no such compliance from me.

  We trudge on in the darkness, my Hawk-eyes losing some of the clarity that daylight brings. With the strange mist hanging around on the floor and clinging to the trees, this isn’t like any normal darkness. It’s deeper, pervading all, blocking out my powers so that my ability to see in the night is more limited.

  It frightens me. There’s a strange sense here, something rising in my bones.

  A feeling that we’re not alone.

  That there are eyes all over the place, hidden high and low, watching as we grind on through the trees. Mile upon mile has been covered since escaping the REEF, but there’s still a long way to go.

  And here, as dusk passes and the nightly light of the moon and stars are hidden by the swamp of cloud above, a new danger begins to brew. Not soldiers or guards. Not Dashers and Hawks and Brutes. Not guns and knives and manmade weapons.

  No.

  The dangers here are earthy, natural dangers of the world, a world made unsafe and terrible by the hand of man himself.

  Many years ago, these woods would have been so very different, were they even here at all. The lands were so dominated by humans that nature was controlled, hiding in the shadows and awaiting its time.

  That time has come again. The toxic mist, the horrible poison, isn’t a natural deterrent to this wild world. The beasts that hunt in these woods, accustomed now to the fog, have learned to stalk amid the mire, to prey on those foolish enough to step foot here.

  I find myself moving closer to Zander now, dragging Adryan with me. His step has slowed, his eyes more narrow. They stare with a greater intensity, knowing just what lurks around us.

  He’s hunted these woods before. He’s acted the part of the predator, him and his band of hybrids, too great a force for any beast here to reckon with.

  But not this force. Not the three of us. Not with me so tired and weak. Not with Adryan so defenceless.

  And Zander knows it.

  He knows full well of the threats we face. He knows full well that death could strike from any angle, behind any tree, pouncing on us before we can even raise our weapons.

  Usually, no doubt, he’d hunt with Bats and Sniffers. He’d have warning of strange scents in the air, of the musty smells given off by the animals that lurk here. And the otherwise imperceptible sounds of footfall would be detected, the Bats aware of all things moving among the trees.

  But we are not Bats.

  And we are not Sniffers.

  We have only our Hawk-eyes here, muted by the strange darkness, and our Dasher powers that might just help us in a chase. But mine are weak and waning, my energy levels spent. And Adryan has no such gifts to use. He’s not even armed.

  With all this clearly playing on Zander’s mind, he searches the night more carefully than ever. And turning to us, his hazel eyes shine with a bright and sudden concern, before switching to a large tree off to the right.

  “Go, now,” he whispers harshly. “Get into the branches.”

  I delay a split second, and that’s all I need. Suddenly, I hear them, the low growls and the scratching claws. And I see them too, the red eyes dotted in the gloom.

  I grab Adryan and run.

  We reach the trunk of the tree and scramble up, his injured ankle forced to work, to push his frame up from the ground as Zander retreats behind us, offering himself as a distraction.

  We reach the low branches just in time, only a couple of metres from the ground. From all sides the creatures come, wolf-like but larger, with a green tinge to their fur and a red light in their eyes. Their fangs are long and sharp, their muzzles strangely shaped and adapted to live among this poison.

  All the pictures I’ve seen of old wolves spring to mind, only morphed and altered into something more nightmarish and grotesque. Some are drawn straight to us, hiding in the branches, scratching at the bark and trying to climb up.

  As I lift my gun to shoot them down, I see Zander’s body phase into the night, his speed shifting him deeper into the woods in an attempt to draw the beasts away.

  Some follow, chasing him down. Others continue to growl at the base of the tree as I aim and fir
e into their snapping snouts.

  The sound of my gun cracks into the night, and one of the wolves drops to the earth with a bullet in its red eye. The rest move like lightning, out of my line of sight and around the trunk, searching for another avenue up.

  “Climb!” I call to Adryan.

  Together, we reach for the next set of branches and work our way up, just as the wolves dig their claws into the bark, ripping at the wood as they attempt to scramble up towards us. My gun spews forth more fire, each shot echoing loudly through the forest until, suddenly, the trigger yields only the sound of clicking.

  I’m out. The gun’s empty.

  I slip the weapon into my belt and continue up, higher and higher, following straight behind Adryan. Away into the woods, I see red lights bursting from the tip of Zander’s rifle, cutting through any wolf that threatens to get too close.

  But he must be tired too, his own Dasher powers only working for so long. Zipping from place to place, the beasts continue to charge him down, seemingly unafraid of the weapon that sees to the death of a number of their pack.

  More of them come, more than I can count, shadows forming into shapes in the night. They rush around, hunting down Zander or sniffing out Adryan and me as we claw our way higher to safety.

  The wolves struggle to keep up. They’re not built for climbing. Not like the jaguars and other deformed big cats that lurk around here too. They make progress by sheer will alone, scratching with such fury at that bark that some manage to reach the larger, lower branches.

  But we’re out of reach again, our more nimble frames and dextrous abilities giving us the advantage. My fear reaches fever pitch. Only by the continuous flaring of red lights am I aware of Zander’s safety.

  They’re further off now, glinting in the distance as my brother draws the beasts away. I scream his name as the wolves on the tree fight their way higher, gaining on us now as we cling to the limbs of the tree with nowhere to go, nothing to defend ourselves with.

  We reach the absolute summit, to the highest branches that will take our weight, and pray that they don’t give out as our attackers snap only metres below, salivating as they wish for the wood to crack and break, sending down their tasty treats.

  The drooling, desperate wolves can go no further. Their attempts to continue their ascent fail. But they’re not done, their unnaturally smart minds seeking a solution. They begin tearing at the main trunk, ripping and biting and trying to strip the tree to its bones, fell the beast and topple us to the ground along with it.

  I search around for another tree, somewhere to jump to. Nothing is close enough; only skinny, weak branches hang within reach, too risky to give the burden of our weight.

  I turn to Adryan, whose eyes look out upon the wolves without the same fear as mine. It’s as if his time being tortured and held in that cell have once again blunted his emotions, turned him back into one of his own kind. He stares at the terrifying creatures without the blaring eyes that widen on my own visage, without the panic etched across his brows.

  Turning to me, he wraps an arm around my body to keep me steady.

  “It’ll be OK,” he assures me. “Look…it’ll be OK.”

  At the word ‘look’ his eyes rise to the distance, to the red fire that now defoliates the woodland, Zander’s pulse rifle filling the forest with flames that ravage the nearby trees and bushes. And against the backdrop of the growing inferno, the shape of my brother appears, rushing back towards us and firing as he comes at the wolves snapping at our heels.

  They react immediately, turning to him, seeing the carnage he’s left behind. Some charge in and go the same way as many of their brothers and sisters. Dead in the mud.

  Others rush in another direction, dispersing into the trees and disappearing into the darkness.

  I watch my brother with a slack jawed gape of amazement, his Dasher powers still working to phase his body from place to place, too fast for Adryan to properly see.

  But not me.

  My Hawk-eyes watch him, catch his movements as he deals with the last of our attackers.

  In the end, the wood becomes a morgue, a battleground, soaked in blood and fire and peppered with the dead beasts that foolishly tried to fight him.

  He stands at the base of the tree, his hazel eyes catching the firelight, turning in each direction to make sure that the beasts have given up the contest, bested by the better man. Then, lifting his chin, he finds Adryan and me hidden in the high foliage.

  “You can come down now,” he says.

  We do so, clambering down through the broken and battered branches, reaching the blood-soaked earth and the bodies that littler it. I fall into my brother’s arms to thank him.

  How many times am I going to have to do that?

  How many times is he going to save me and those I care about?

  Adryan does the same – thanking him by way of a nod and appreciative word. Zander passes it off and merely says: “It’s not over yet. The fire will act as a beacon. They may still be tracking us. We have to continue on, right now.”

  It’s not what I wanted to hear. I’m exhausted and in dire need of sleep, although the past few minutes have certainly served to awaken me a little. As soon as the adrenaline wears off, however, I know I’m going to flag.

  But we have no choice.

  So without delay, we continue our journey into the dark night, leaving the blood and flame behind.

  131

  The night is long and endless. I start to lose myself again to exhaustion, dragging my limbs on and on despite the obvious dangers we face. With my pistol now out of ammunition and useless, we only have Zander’s pulse rifle, as well as a knife that he hands to me, as protection.

  “Last resort,” he says as I take possession of the blade.

  The commotion with the wolves won’t have gone unnoticed. Both our human pursuers, and the other foes that lurk in the wilds, will have been drawn to the fire. Scavengers will come for the meat, catching the scent of blood. Some may pass our way as we continue on, forcing us to sneak as silently as possible.

  That’s what we do.

  We walk in silence, creeping low, the mist seeming to grow more stifling as the night deepens and darkens. It seems to seep into my clothes, weighing me down, desperately trying to penetrate through my garments to begin its siege of my skin and flesh.

  Zander knows we can’t go on forever. He’s strong, and alert, but knows we’re not. He hasn’t been through what we have the last few days, my husband in particular. We both need rest, and we need it soon.

  Yet, he doesn’t know these lands. He came through the woods via routes he’d trekked before when he set up the ambush to free me half way between the city and the REEF.

  But this far to the west, and heading north, the woods might be as alien to him as they are to us, only his skills as a tracker and navigator helping us work our way in the direction of the northern outerlands where the little abandoned town, and church of the Nameless, are to be found.

  Finding a place to stop isn’t easy. His eyes turn back from his lead position on a regular basis to examine us, to see how close we are to collapse.

  I’m holding on, just about. Adryan, too, is stoically refusing to give in.

  When we get a chance to stop for even a moment, I slip into his mind and see his pain, his thoughts so clouded by discomfort and a terrible need for sleep that he’s liable to drop to the dirt at any second.

  And here, where the marshlands continue to pepper the world, such a thing could mean death. A wrong step or simple slip would find any of us sliding into a pool of acid, sucked down into the deathly bog.

  Eventually, we’re far enough away for Zander to consider us safe. It’s been a while since the wolf attack, and the burning woods have long since evaporated, no longer visible, even as a faint glow above the treetops.

  Moving through a firmer portion of land, we come across a small cliffside hidden among the tall trees as the ground begins to undulate. Zander rushes towa
rds it to find a more sturdy looking cave eaten into its flank, offering cover from the elements and an opportunity to stop and rest for a couple of hours.

  He tells us to wait outside while he checks the interior. Caves, as he informs us, are often the dwellings of beasts in these lands, and rarely unoccupied.

  After a few nervous minutes, however, we find Zander returning and nodding us in.

  “It goes further back there in the rocks,” he says. “But it’s empty.”

  The cave, too, appears to be unused. There’s no sign at all that its been lived in.

  My brother tells us to rest and that he’ll keep watch. Before I can offer my services as a night-guard, he waves the option away and says he’s fine and not tired, despite the weary look in his eyes.

  “Get a few hours,” he orders. “I’ll keep watch. We’ll set off again at first light.”

  As Zander sets himself up in a rather uncomfortable seating position against the wall – no doubt a method of making sure he doesn’t drop off –Adryan and I move a little deeper into the cave where we quickly find a suitable spot to lie down on.

  Turns out, the only smooth area of ground is about the right size for the two of us.

  Lying down, side by side, I feel the warmth of his breath at the back of my neck. I reach behind me and feel for his hand. I take a grip and gently pull his arm over my side, shifting his body a little towards mine.

  And as his chest hugs at my back, and his arm rests around my waist, I quickly begin to drift away with a stolen smile on my face.

  The respite doesn’t last.

  I’d be foolish to consider that it would.

  I’m woken from strange dreams by the sense that something is moving out beyond the cave, some intuition in me tearing me from my sleep and opening my eyes wide and suddenly.