Sisters of Ruin (Lucent Book 1)

by Darren Lewis

  I remember you. Your voice came to me as I began to sleep.

  Blue thought into the ever expanding dark cloud above. Blue sensed a wry amusement from his visitor.

  Indeed, and I've watched you ever since. When possible anyway. Speaking like this doesn't come naturally to me.

  You're not gifted then?

  Blue found his curiosity overriding any black thoughts.

  In a fashion. Again there was that warmth of amusement. A couple of my friends help me out but I wouldn't be able to do it at all without my friend.

  Blue cocked his head in interest and he felt an overpowering sense of affection, of belonging flooding this method of communication.

  May I speak to your friend? Or meet them?

  You may meet him. He wishes to meet you very much.

  Blue instinctively reached out and allowed his mind to become enveloped in this being's stream of thoughts. He followed them to their source. He opened his, their eyes, and saw a massive red body towering before him or them, a few feet away. Swirling colours regarded him from two eyes and Blue gasped at the revelation of what he was seeing.

  That is part of your gift, Blue and what the others before you could not see. Trust me, Blue. Allow Cerys to bring you to me. See the world.

  Blue smiled with genuine delight.

  Yes.

  He replied to the other's mind.

  “Yes.” He replied out loud to the increasing wind around him. Blue opened his eyes and bowed his head in respect to the graves. He then turned, and as the first few drops of rain fell upon the soil, Blue walked with resolution back to the farmhouse and Cerys.

  The day we feared

  Mountains tremble in awe at the weapons unleashed upon the earth.

  Bodies of dead creatures piled high enough to rival the tallest of peaks shudders and then collapses, crushing and breaking apart skin, bone and sinew, transforming each to dust under the terrible force of gravity. Dust storms rise from the debris and twist and search the land around them, ever seeking, ever seeking.

  A lone figure is witness to all this. The last of her kind, she tries to weep at the emptiness but her face is dry, her eyes as cold as the desolate, barren land as she knows the fault is hers. The wind whips the mighty dust clouds around her and she screams in silence for there is no one to hear.

  The sky turns black as the sun is gorged upon and as the world grows cold the wind and dust storms die. The figure is left in darkness upon her knees, weeping her cold tears. The death of every creature has invaded her and torn her down with their memories of life and the very moments of their death.

  A burning white fire rips across the black sky, the final illumination this dead world will ever witness. The woman stands and is shocked to find she is able to look straight into its fierce glare. A white tendril reaches out for her and she feels warm and comforted the closer it comes. A sense of finality overcomes her and she reaches with her own hand for the questing white fire. The ground beneath her cracks apart and a hand grabs her ankle. She screams and the white fire pulls away. The crack widens but rather than be pulled in the hand pulls harder and a figure climbs from the cracked earth. It stands and growls at the comforting light and it recedes but does not disappear. The naked figure is covered in dry mud from their hair to their feet. It moves forward until the lone woman can see blue eyes boring into her soul. The creature from the ground opens its mouth and a forked tongue is revealed.

  “Begone!” The creature hisses at the white fire. The blue eyes widen and focus on the woman. “It is time.” The world turns black again as the white fire is extinguished.

  * * *

  “Gabby! Gabby wake up!”

  Gabby lifted her head quickly from her folded arms and winced at the stiffness in her neck. She looked up with blurry eyes and saw the mud stained figure from her dream at her side. Gabby rocked backwards, almost falling from the chair she'd fallen asleep in but for a pair of hands stopping her. Gabby grabbed the edge of the desk as the hands righted her position and she took a calming breath. Gabby looked again and this time saw Mary, wringing her hands. As Gabby's mind moved further from the strange dream she now heard a persistent alarm sounding outside her room.

  “What's going on, Mary? I haven't heard that alarm in fifteen years?” A fleeting rush of desperation swept over Mary's face and Gabby cursed her half-awake brain, there was only one reason the alarm would be sounding. “They're here?” Though both Gabby and Mary knew it wasn't a question.

  * * *

  “I can't believe it's taken so long for them to find us.” Mary stated wrapping a heavy scarf around her neck to ward off the icy chill from the sea. Gabby nodded and smiled at her friend who she knew was attempting to be flippant in such a dire situation.

  “The reports we do get say The Grey have been causing this lot quite a bit of grief, more with each passing year.” Mary had overcome her nerves from earlier and refused to be left below, wishing to see for herself what was occurring above ground. Now the two young women and their most trusted advisor were standing at the highest point of the power station's surviving building, surveying the scene.

  “If they come at us all at once how long do you guess we can hold them?” Gabby asked, her eyes searching and analysing the bleak landscape around her.

  “All at once, perhaps twenty minutes. That assumes they attack with half their numbers in the first volley, the other half in the second and so on.”

  “And even if they don't do that straightaway and they take some time figuring it out then allowing for worst case scenario the station will fall eventually.” Gabby concluded turning to look at the man standing next to her. Former lieutenant McCaffrey was perhaps Gabby's most trusted friend, at least after her oldest friend Mary. The army officer was one of the few surviving members of the original military staff based at the nuclear power station.

  The attack upon the power station at the beginning of the war resulted in a great deal of cosmetic damage to the bunker and several severed power lines. As emergency generators activated the new residents of the bunker came to realise the immense forces ranged against them. Whether the dragons were aware of the importance of this particular nuclear power station or they simply were knocking out energy supplies the bunker's inhabitants realised quickly how fortunate they were to be sequestered below the surface. Only one casualty resulted from the attack in the form of Mr Harris. A concrete beam had cracked and pinned the teacher's leg, shattering it instantly. Staff and the medical team successfully rescued Gabby's injured teacher but were unable to save his leg. In a short period of time his mental health deteriorated. To the girl's horror they watched as their former teacher grew weak. He refused to speak and refused any sustenance to nourish his body. The doctors even went so far as to introduce a drip feed and a food tube directly into the man's stomach. The physical damage that was so easily treated could not compare to the mental damage the teacher had suffered and the weaker he was the more prone to illness he became. The medical staff tried their utmost to counsel the suffering teacher even to the extreme action of promising his family were safe and on their way to him. The mental damage was too strong a wound. Six weeks after the attack on the power station Mr Harris succumbed to pneumonia. The first real casualty the girls were to witness of the war.

  During this period, communications were re-established with the outside world. Dire news started coming through that the war was taking a heavy toll on military and civilians, and the soldiers quartered in the bunker started to become understandably restless. Their fellow soldiers and in most cases, friends, were high above, on the ground, fighting a losing battle. Every soldier knew it was extremely unlikely their actions on the field of battle would alter the outcome of the war but the call to defend their friends, their fellow brothers and sisters, and country was undeniably strong.

  The armed force within the bunker were given just one order. Maintain their posts and defend the site at all costs. The station was a valuable asset that required a military
presence. But as news of loss after loss came in dissent grew. It was the final message that caused every soldier and a number of the civilian staff to disobey orders and leave. The enemy were beginning their assault on the nation's capital. Even though a surrender had been issued by the human leadership it had been ignored by the aggressor, so every soldier; army, navy or air force were being recalled to defend the heart of their country.

  Gabby would still experience chills when she thought of that moment fifteen years or so ago. Watching those brave men and women pack up and leave. Seeing in their eyes that they were ready to face death. The fear was great but she never once saw one of them falter that day. At the time she thought them foolish. Ridiculous simple minded people who had no other thought but to shoot and kill others in some overblown game of 'war.' That they marched off thinking that this was their glorious moment, that they alone would be the hero and save the human race in its direst hour of need. It had taken Gabby a few years of maturing, reading, thinking and talking to the soldiers ordered to remain that changed her views. Not on war, never that. But on those who fought and died. That all they wanted to do was serve and do it alongside someone they could trust to have their back as they would watch another's. Among Gabby's many hopes and wishes, meeting even one of those soldiers again would fulfil her fervent desire to apologise for her scorn the day they left the safety of the station.

  “Do you think they'll offer terms?” McCaffrey asked, leaning out over the high roof of the station's main building to ensure every person housed at the station was out of sight. Gabby grabbed McCaffrey's arm and pulled him back, shivering as she did so.

  “Don't do that.” She complained. “You know heights give me the willies.” McCaffrey snorted and ran a hand through his greying hair. Gabby studied the man she'd known for over half her life. When they met on the first day of the attacks she thought he encompassed everything typical of an upper class army officer. His accent was so proper it made Gabby's jaw ache as she clenched her teeth listening to it. But through those first days, that ultimately led to weeks, months and years McCaffrey had taken the responsibility of taking care of his charges as seriously as if they were his own children. Throughout the emotional turmoil brought on from news about the war, being unable to contact their families and finally not being able to leave the facility at all, McCaffrey was on hand to deal with the three teenage girls, helping them through their grief, anger and frustrations. He ensured their education continued under the tutelage of one of the professors onsite, Professor Eames, known to the girls as Elliot, locked away underground with them. It came as no surprise to anyone that Gabby was the most proficient student and that in her intelligence, Professor Eames proudly acknowledged his student would surpass him, though he tagged 'eventually' onto that thought.

  Gabby sighed at the sight of her ageing friend, now in his late forties, and she worried that any course of action she chose would mean one of her dearest friends would not reach fifty. She turned from McCaffrey and focused on the sight arrayed in a huge semicircle around the nuclear power station. On her last count she had found one hundred and twenty of them, most in the air and the remainder poised like beautiful but deadly statues around the station's perimeter fence. Now she estimated another fifty had joined the ranks of the small army amassing in front of her but one especially drew her attention. Gabby reached out a hand and McCaffrey responded automatically and placed the scope in her hand. She raised it and focused on the one all others on the ground were paying deference to.

  “I guess we'll find out soon, my friend. And when we do it will be that one making the decision.” Gabby lowered the scope and had to suppress the fear threatening to make her dash madly for the safety of the underground bunker. It was frightening enough to stand off against over one hundred and fifty dragons but the one that truly gave her pause was of the human she had seen sitting astride the terrifying green dragon. His face was young, handsome even, but contained such a wealth of sorrow and anger that his true age was eclipsed by the shadow of his memories. Even now with the scope lowered and detail now a blur Gabby could feel that face turned towards her exuding hatred and malice from his eyes. The dragon's visage was a match for its rider's but only in emotion. The huge jaw of the beast was tilted, lopsided, allowing several sharp yellow fangs to be on display on one side of its face. Gabby couldn't think of any circumstances that another human or creature could perpetrate such a wound to a dragon.

  “Lord Andas has come for us.”

  * * *

  In the early years after the war, or at least what those in the bunker thought signalled the end of the war proper, the complete breakdown in communications, there was no exploration above ground. Protocols were in place and were followed to protect the integrity of the site and the secrets it held. Regardless of who the enemy was, whether it be an invasion from a human army, or in this case, no matter how ridiculous it sounded at the time, by dragons, the station was not to fall into enemy hands under any circumstances. Therefore, no personnel were allowed out of the bunker lest they draw attention to the station's ongoing occupation. But with the main bulk of the military presence gone the resolve to stay underground for what seemed year after pointless year to the majority of its residents wavered and eventually died. Any lingering arguments concerning the official secret act or duty to one's country were ground down by the ongoing relentlessness and boredom of a life below ground. All those below without exception ached to see the sky once again.

  In addition, as the years passed and no cessation to their duty came one factor for exploring the surface gained prominence. In short, food supplies were never meant to last for such an extended period of time. Contact had to be made and trade established if the station's survival was to be ongoing.

  Caution was not thrown to the wind. Several plans were made, discussed, examined, cast aside and re-examined ad nauseam. Gabby, Mary and Brooke were an integral part of the underground operation. The girl's education quickly became a key aspect in the ongoing function of the station. The three girls however if not enjoyed then endured a singular bond. Many of the station's technicians had family above ground when the attacks began and the war started. As Gabby discovered in her talks with Dr Eames, each 'employee' was chosen, trained and assigned to this post, a post that required a certain mental toughness and a particular dedication to duty. The girls and their teacher, before his death, were an anomaly, a fluke. Thrown into a bizarre situation and locked away underground while a war raged upon the planet's surface. Gabby had not cared especially for anyone left behind but she empathised greatly with her classmates and teacher. It was Mary who endured silently, the almost paralysing pain of loss without the knowledge of what had really happened to her family. The question of 'are they?' 'aren't they?' A damning song of frustration playing constantly in her mind. Brooke however suffered intensely. In school, both Gabby and Mary would be the first to consider the tall, blond girl, a complete bitch. A bully, a terror to anyone that didn't fit into her plane of existence. That view, even after the war began and Mr Harris's death, did not alter, even though the girl suffered as they all did. Gabby and Mary avoided her as best they could, wishing not to be a witness to Brooke's over dramatic lamentations winding up to hysterical levels requiring sedation. As thirteen-year-old girls, Gabby and Mary, could not endure Brooke's histrionics as a reminder to their own form of suffering, but as time went on they understood in greater depth that Brooke wasn't performing for anyone and that she was suffering in her own unique way. With encouragements from McCaffrey and Professor Eames, Gabby and Mary resolved to help their once classroom enemy. All were wary at first, with Brooke demonising both the girls, now teenagers, for neglecting her and not caring. Both Gabby and Mary to their credit admitted that Brooke was correct and realised that standing together and sharing their grief, their weaknesses made the three of them stronger. Brooke for her own part improved and although she still suffered episodes of black moods and depression she had two friends close at hand at al
l times.

  As the wealth of earth above them provided a protective cocoon from the outside world the three girls were essentially adopted by the remaining staff and military personnel giving them the support, both emotional and psychological, as they matured into young women, though many of those staff would admit to purposely ignoring the girls at times as all three journeyed through adolescence to adulthood and all the teenage troubles that invoked.

  Those with families left above ground invested themselves in the three, perhaps motivated by guilt at first over the apparent abandonment of their own kin, in time however it surfaced as a deep abiding affection. As Gabby, Mary and Brooke entered adulthood, a natural passing of responsibilities began to settle upon the three's shoulders. McCaffrey represented one of the youngest 'original' members of the group and with more pressure to visit the outside world for resources it was becoming quite clear who would be at the forefront of that investigation, namely, the three young charges in their care.

  * * *

  “That's close enough!” McCaffrey barked his order, automatically bringing his weapon to his shoulder and releasing the safety. The messenger looking down the barrel of the lieutenant's assault gun and raised his hands before him in a gesture of peace and compliance, but Gabby noted the hint of contempt in the messenger's eyes. Gabby placed a hand on her friend's shoulder and McCaffrey lowered his weapon, but only by a few inches, he kept the safety off and removed his finger from around the trigger.

  Only twenty minutes had passed since the two friends had speculated on whether an attack was forthcoming or an offer of some kind. With only a little relief Gabby had watched a tall, dark haired man under a white banner march without fear towards the station's security fence.