TERRA: Earth Warder Chronicles

by Adrian M Ferguson

  ‘Anyway, now that there have been deaths, I don't want you running out there for the time being, and I hate to say it but it’s official. So I have to have your word on it, Dee Dee. I don't want to risk you getting hurt or anything. We’re also putting out a warning to locals and tourists alike to avoid hiking in at least a 10-mile radius till we find whatever is the cause of their deaths.’

  ‘Hmmmm, I don't know, Brucey.’ I was wide-awake now, digesting this information. My cop’s spidey senses were tingling. It seems it’s something you never really lose, an intuitive sense of something just not right, and now, after what I had been through and considering what I now was, this had the feeling of being in the realm of my new responsibilities. I should check it out. ‘Say please with a cherry on top,’ I teased.

  ‘Deirdre,’ he drawled, his voice deepening, ‘this is not a joke.’

  ‘Shit, okay. I'm sorry. I'm just tired, Bruce. What areas should I avoid till you give the go-ahead?’

  ‘Just stick to the main roads and you should be all right if you do go for a walk. But no wandering off into the mountains.’

  ‘I’ve mentioned this to Zoey as well, Deirdre. Should I ask her to come and check on you, since you’re a lot more isolated out at your place, or do you want me to come over sometime just to do a perimeter check and make sure nothing nasty is hanging around?’

  ‘Geez, no on both counts, Bruce. I plan on staying home today, and yes that means inside. And don't you dare tell Zoey to check on me. You know how protective she can get, and as much as I love her to bits, I'll never hear the end of how dangerous it is to go running in the areas I do. She'll bloody put surveillance on me. She's already going to be on alert since I didn't open the store today, geez.’

  ‘Well, as long as you listen to me for once, Dee Dee, I won't ask her to pop over for a nice little visit, hey?’

  ‘Bloody bribery now, huh, and to think I didn't believe that you'd ever stoop this low — nasty, Bruce, nasty, and don't think I'll forget this one.’

  ‘Good, as long as you’re safe, that's what counts, Dee Dee,’ and he hung up in my ear.

  That shit, getting the last word in, with his goddamn dimples glaring at me through the phone too no doubt. He knows how much that irritates me. Lucky for me, I had no intention of holing up for the day, or however long bloody Bruce thought I should. I had some investigating to do, and now I’d got a bit of info out of dear old' Brucey it was time to go check out what was killing mountain hikers. We couldn't have that now. Ketchum was a great place to live, and very popular with tourists. I bet Bruce's superiors were keeping this well under wraps, even considering what Bruce said.

  I only met his boss once, in passing. Sergeant James Carter, I believe Bruce said his name was, and he was all mountain-grizzled and tough, not someone to let anything ruin the tranquility of his town.

  First, to fuel the rest of my day I went downstairs. The house I’d purchased was large, roomy with lots of floor-to-ceiling windows, all double insulated to keep the warmth in during winter. I bought this house with one thought in the front of my mind: privacy.

  After New York and the hectic lifestyle I’d had there I just wanted a place that was quiet and private, a home that gave me the opportunity to sit and reflect without unnecessary distractions, and I can happily say that this house had achieved that for me. It was set far back away from the road and was far out enough from town to feel isolated — perfect.

  I padded into my large stainless steel kitchen. I loved the concept of the kitchen being the heart of the home. My mother thought the same, which I think had rubbed off on me. The kitchen was balanced with a lot of greenery. I had a long bay window, a bank thick, with every herb you could think of, so when you walked into the kitchen it was a feast for the olfactory senses. Across from it was another large bay window. This had a bi-fold opening to let in the breeze and here I had in large pots a row of decorative topiary, green and luscious. I felt lucky to have such a kitchen. My New York loft kitchen had overlooked another building with windows half the size of these.

  In the center of the kitchen I had a stark stainless steel bench with six leather bar stools around it, and overhanging that, hooked to the ceiling, were my chrome pots and pans. The color combination was very easy on the eye.

  I quickly scrambled some eggs, popped some wheat toast on and sat down with a fresh glass of orange juice. I added some fresh crushed basil leaves to my eggs as they cooked. The aroma of egg and herb wafted up at me — ah, heaven. As I sat there, I looked down at my palm, marveling at the now distinct scar.

  So, my mother must have had scars too. It was unbelievable to think that this gave me access to power from an element. I rubbed at my other palm, still itching; well, that was one thing that hadn't changed.

  Leaving the house a couple of hours later, I was dressed down so as not to attract attention. I had my docs on again, baggy old khaki cargo pants and a black crop top, support and all. I'd pulled my hair up loosely and encased it in a khaki colored hat. And, not to be unprepared, I had a form-fitting, slim backpack on. It compressed in towards my back and was lightweight, so it was relatively discrete. I had a few essentials in there, and since I was still new to my elemental powers, I wasn't going to rely on them too heavily anytime soon. I was a natural survivalist at heart and knew how to count on my other skills.

  Time to go hunting.

  CHAPTER 9

  The area where the attack occurred was a bit too close for comfort, making me wonder if it was just coincidence, considering I had run that trail only last week. It was also quite popular with the tourists generally, though when I was there last week, it was pretty quiet.

  Getting into my little Audi coupe, I sat there blinking in amazement, gazing at the interior of the car. I was momentarily stunned, it freaking sparkled — the dash was glossy and clean and the leather was super soft, my body sinking into it; a burst of that incredible new car smell wafted up to me. It was immaculate. In fact, more beautiful than the day I bought it.

  My paranoia levels rose. I triggered the driver’s window down and peered around the house and surrounding landscape. Everything appeared peaceful and in order. What the hell? How could someone break into my car without the car alarm going off and clean it? Actually, fuck that thought, the question was: who the hell would want to?

  Baffled, I drove off slowly. Exiting the long driveway, I continued with the window down, enjoying the fresh air lightly tinted with pine and wood. It rolled into the car acting like a balm and easing away some of the tension I felt finding my car, umm, detailed.

  Letting my doubts flow away, I focused on the day. It felt good to have a goal, to have some understanding of where I was going, and it seemed a new identity. I had a moment where I almost forgot why I’d moved here and what I was escaping from. Memories, they're a bitch.

  I arrived at the beginning of the hiking trail area not long after, pulling off to the side of the trail. I knew of a small, secluded spot to hide my car. It wouldn't be in my best interests for Bruce to spot me if he went past on patrol. I knew that when a cop asked you to do something, for example telling you to stay at home, they got peeved if you didn't do what they asked.

  So I tucked the car in behind some close-knit white pine and yew, hoping it was concealed enough. I locked up and attached my backpack, adjusting the straps tightly around my midsection. I looked around one last time and then headed up the trail.

  This hiking track was a lot more overgrown and wild than some of the better used ones. The large trees crowded inwards, creating a lush tunnel of greenery. I could understand why unwary hitchhikers could be picked off here so easily: there were more than enough spots for an ambush.

  I slowed down, letting the sounds of the area wash over me. Standing still, I felt a surprising connection with the earth below my feet. It vibrated up with a steady reassuring hum that, if I concentrated, was faintly audible. I allowed the dry energy to permeate my body and became aware of the harmony it sang of, a harmon
y embedded in the surrounding forest.

  It was connected to everything under my feet. I listened intently and turned, letting my senses follow. I frowned as a sharp note of discord hit me. Something unnatural had occurred in that direction. My eyes snapped open and I grimly headed off towards it, instinct taking over. The earth tugged me forward, urging me into a run.

  I picked up speed, dodging around trees and fallen undergrowth with ease. My feet, guided by my connection with Earth, knew exactly where to step and at what angle to maximize my traction and speed. Energy coursed through me in a haze and I briefly closed my eyes, not faltering in the slightest; in fact, my momentum seemed to increase.

  Reluctantly, I eased off the pace, sensing the discord up ahead. I spied a part of the trail intersecting my path. I had gone completely off course, finding that the hiking trail wasn't necessary. As I veered off towards the left I sensed a rocky outcrop, which amazingly wasn't even visible to me yet; Earth was enhancing my knowledge of the land.

  I came upon boulders strewn haphazardly together, feeling the intensity of the discord rack up a few notches. It hung like a clouded miasma over two of the very largest boulders. They were covered thickly with fern, moss, and debris and leaned in towards each other creating a triangular wedge of space underneath. I knew with certainty that this is where Bruce had found the dead tourists. Running my fingers over one of the boulders I shuddered slightly at the uneasiness and confusion lightly running through the rock.

  Crouching, I looked through the almost hidden gap: a good spot to shove bodies. I wondered how Bruce found them, probably with tracking dogs. This place was far too concealed and off road for people to find. Looking into the cleft, I saw it ended further in and was blocked up at the end with earth, moss, and leaves. Cozy. I looked at the rock and ground and spied dry blood stains at the far end. It had sunk into the earth in quite a large amount — the creature responsible wasn't too concerned with losing some of its meal.

  Getting back to my feet I wondered how I was going to find what was responsible for this. Would Earth locate the creature for me? I reached down and out, stretching my thoughts. The spike of agony from the rocks’ opening was here, loud and off key. I attempted to feel further out, urging my mind further. I listened, holding my breath, straining, but nothing, just a general sense of vague life forms in the vicinity, one stronger, one behind me, but nothing Earth seemed to want to warn me about, so I dismissed it; otherwise, here in the immediate area was just a blank coldness, as if whatever had done this, had left no trace around it.

  I quickly scanned the ground around me for any noticeable tracks, scuffmarks, or anything out of the ordinary, but as Bruce had already found, there was nothing really here either; the ground was too impacted. There were some pine needles strewn around near the base of the boulders, but it was mostly exposed earth with rocks appearing in random spots. Well, I surmised, if Bruce, being the far more competent tracker, couldn't find anything then little ol' novice here wasn’t likely to have much luck.

  Glancing back to the boulders, searching for some clue or discrepancy, I spotted some marks on one of the stones that seemed odd, but nothing came to mind from them. Frowning in frustration I put my hands on my hips, leaning back to look up higher. The rocks were, at least, two meters up; maybe if I climbed there I’d get a broader view and a different perspective of the area.

  As I went to head around the larger boulder, I heard a soft crunch of needles. I spun around, crouching defensively, habit and old police instincts kicking in.

  ‘Whoa, whoa! Slow down there, little honey,’ a strange guy cautiously pronounced, raising his hands in mock surrender above and in front of him.

  ‘I won't hurt you. I'm just hiking in this area.’ He gave me an easy smile, his eyes lighting up as he also gave me a slow, top-to-bottom once over.

  ‘Like what you see, asshole?’ I snapped.

  The guy was so not here for a hike, and he was dressed for business alright — combat business, that is. He was wearing black combat boots and camouflage pants. Strapped to one thigh appeared to be a baton holder; I could see the end sticking up near his waist. A thick black belt was around his midsection, defining his narrow muscular top half. This was encased in a ballistic flak armless jacket. It was apparent that he had nothing underneath, as his toned, tattooed arms were bare. On his hands he wore black gloves. This looked like a dangerous man.

  ‘Easy there, sweetheart — I know how I look, and I can see you’re not fooled, but I'm here on business. There were people killed around here on suspicious grounds, did you know that?’

  I did not like the clichéd endearments or trust him one inch.

  ‘No, I didn't know,’ I spat, ‘and if you call me honey or sweetheart again, there's going to be a big problem — aka your ass being kicked.’

  ‘Wow, feisty aren't we? Okay, I apologize, fair lady, no more crude flattery.’

  I growled, low in my throat. This only raised a chuckle from him.

  ‘Who are you?’ I demanded, rubbing unconsciously at my itching left palm.

  Just as the question left my mouth, I smelt an intense waft of decay fall onto me from above. I spun, gasping, trying to contain my stomach contents. Above me, lying on top of the boulder silently watching us was the most hideous creature I had ever seen, and I’d seen quite a few hideous creatures lately. Its blank white eyes looked impassively down at me and jagged teeth protruded from its maw. As it snarled at me its mouth unhinged from its jaw, swinging haphazardly. It raised its midsection up on swollen, bloated arms, ripe with gas and disease, blackened and putrid. Lifting one hand, it cocked its head at me and then slapped the stone; a haze of night engulfed it, and it disappeared from view.

  I back-pedaled like crazy, not sure where to look — at the cadaver or the dangerous ‘hiker’. As I drew even with him, he pulled a gun from his belt. Geez, good cop instincts there, I hadn't even noticed the fucking gun, admonishing myself.

  Come to think of it, he was prepared and did not look in the least bit fazed by what he had just witnessed.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ I hissed. His eyes never left the boulder.

  ‘What, you don't know? Shit, of course, you wouldn't know; it's a revenant — the undead, lady, nasty, intelligent and usually disease-carrying sons of bitches.’

  ‘What the fuck!’ I looked at him in disbelief, forgetting for the moment the danger ahead of us. ‘Who the hell are you?’

  'The name’s Ford, mam.’ He grinned, ‘and this here is what I was searching for.’

  From the darkness a rendering shriek filled the air. The creature hadn't moved. The scream died down, and we watched it slink down from the front of the darkness, blunt claws somehow gripping the rock. It scuttled down headfirst; at the bottom it placed one diseased, clawed hand on the ground. I smelt dead meat billow out from its direction. The creature, the revenant, calls it what you fucking will, paused looking up at us. It stretched its decaying mouth into a parody of a grin and slowly licked its mouth with a stub of a tongue. It slapped its other arm down onto the ground in front of it and darkness descended on its position again.

  I held my breath from the stench and watched in horror as it catapulted out of the day made into night in a shambling run on all fours. Time stilled. I watched its rotten eyes roll in its head, as if they had no internal support

  Ford pulled the trigger in a quick series of shots, aiming it seemed at the head and chest. He missed, but one shot got through, and its right shoulder disappeared in a gory explosion. Its arm, hanging by decayed strands, flopped madly against its bloated body. It slowed down a bit and dropped to one knee. Crouching, I wracked my brain about what to do. I did have a gun, though it was safely locked up at home and I certainly did not want to use my power over Earth in front of this asshole — shit, shit, shit.

  In my backpack I had brought a serrated knife, a Ka-bar to be exact, in its leather case, but I hadn’t thought I would have to use it. I swung my backpack around and frantically unzi
pped one side, reached in and grabbed it, flinging my bag behind me to the ground. I flicked the hunting knife out of its sheath, and held it before me. Bring it on, motherfucker, undead kebabs coming up.

  The revenant howled, gnashing its teeth, dripping long horrid green and black strands of saliva; it seemed it was hungry.

  Ford ran forward, whipping out his baton. He flicked his wrist and the baton telescoped out a good 16 inches. It reminded me of what I used to carry in the police force: hard, anodized, aluminum steel, which was wicked fast and, if held in incompetent hands, extremely dangerous. Ford casually tossed it to his other hand and back, looking at me and grinning like an idiot. Yup, I think he might be competent enough. Fucking show-off.

  Speeding up, he came in low, cracking the creature across the knee. It popped and sprayed filth into the air, effectively disabled for a brief moment. Ford swung round and aimed for the head, though the revenant seemed to anticipate the move, ducking even on its cavity of a knee, swiping at Ford’s midsection with surprising speed. Ford took the impact directly, and it flung him backwards a few meters onto his ass; the glasses he had on his head flew off, hitting some rocks behind him. He rolled back up and flipped back onto his feet in one smooth movement, grinning like it was Christmas.

  ‘Fuck yeah!’ he yelled in excitement.

  Goddamn lunatic.

  The revenant swung to face me, shrieking in anger. It pulled at its knee, and I saw globs of black flesh fall away; it was decaying as it stood there. It ran at me, claws swinging. I ran forward, diving and rolling underneath its aim, bouncing up to slice my Ka-bar behind me, aiming for its head. The blade, a decent seven inches, coated with black epoxy, was razor sharp. It hit its mark, catching the creature at the back of the head and, in one movement, scalping off what hair it had left. Blood oozed out thickly as I retracted the blade. The undead creature hissed in displeasure. The wound would have normally been a critical hit for most things, but this guy just swung back around, its fleshy hair flap bouncing madly.