The Birth (The Black Wing Book 1)

by Yvette, Miriam

  Kinoki gracefully followed me to the kitchen where I downed a full glass of water. When I pondered about the strange meteor shower, a thought approached me, and it hit me hard. What kind of attention will the Okanogan Forest receive tomorrow?

  "This is not good.” I said to Kinoki. “Everyone that saw the meteor shower will come here, just think of it! The local news, reporters, astrologists—a whole parade is going be here, first thing in the morning!”

  The media will want me as a witness, I will be on the visual vision in everyone’s home, and of the entire world. It’s a guarantee that my husband and his family will find me. His face and his threats came back to haunt me. He has become more dangerous that I thought, that night, I never thought he would go as far as pulling his pocket knife at me.

  With my husband’s threats lingering in my head, I groaned my way back to bed and nestled into my icy bed sheets. Kinoki leaped on my bed and secured herself into a ball. I reached for her soft black fur, her yellow eyes focused on me. Her purring brought me back to the news event I watched in Dr. Graham’s clinic.

  There was a rally in Washington D.C. from the animal rights movement that rallied against a group of intentional people who went on a cat killing spree. Their purpose was to lower their population. Cats have been a target because of their nature to eat birds. It’s true that an enormous amount of birds are falling in numbers because of them, but I don’t think they are a minor to a major cause. It seems almost dark that the people who went out to hunt cats fail to acknowledge that our demand for resources and the destruction or trees literally destroy the homes millions of animal wild life—especially that of their precious birds. Of course, the blame would go to the domestic cat, much less the owners who aren’t accountable for a litter of kittens. Cats—much like dogs receive the punishment for living with euthanasia and civilian gun shots.

  My relationship with Kinoki has never been easy, but I learned that keeping a cat means we have to learn to let go of our expectations of them. They are territorial, egotistic, silly, intelligent, and loving. Even when the last thing I want to see is a dead field mouse in my kitchen. I’m sure to Kinoki, her gifts are a meaningful messages of love. My effort to think is beginning to lose its focus, my eyelids are growing heavy.

  “Kinoki.” I said, drifting into sleep. “Am I your best friend?”

  My eyes were half open when Kinoki raised her head, she looked at me intently as I slept. What was her answer?

  Chapter Eleven

  Hot Chocolate

  “I looked at my furniture, and dropped my cup of hot chocolate.”

  28th day of September

  31 weeks and 2 days pregnant

  The clock on the corner table read 9:36 a.m. The bedroom window trembled from the driving wind earnestly smearing the clouds on the blue sky. Yearning for breakfast, I stirred out of bed with a heavy sensation on my mind. I ignored it. Kinoki turned to greet me, she sat by the window of the living room begging to be led out.

  I froze.

  The way Kinoki lingered, is startling me, but I can’t figure out why, I ignored her once again. My desire to eat ignored Kinoki’s request and I yawned my way to the kitchen. When I opened the fridge I shoved a grape in my mouth and gradually took out some eggs. Soon after closing the refrigerator door, the eggs slipped through my fingers and cracked on the floor. The heavy sensation returned and I remembered—the meteor shower, the stirring stars, and the meteorite that crashed nearby!

  I rushed to the porch window with stomping feet. Startled, Kinoki jumped out of my way. The front yard is vacant, the sight brought me back to relief. No one is here, not yet anyway. I dragged myself back to the kitchen, the lost expectation of reporters and researchers tired me. Should anyone asks me about the meteor shower, I will simply tell them I slept through it all and hope for the best outcome. Sure, last night was a historical phenomenon, but being a spectator will place me as beacon of light to my short-tempered husband. I wiped the sticky yolk from the floor, guilt ran on my face for ruining three good eggs.

  The kitchen is one of the largest rooms in the cabin, and I can see why it remains to stay that way. A large window expanded over the dining table. This particular spot depicted the best sights of the Okanogan forest. From the comfort of my seat, the peaking shapes of the Cascade Mountains stretched over the horizon. Here, rests a large variety of trees living among family of pine trees. From the view of my kitchen window, I can see the scattered willows, burning its bright red leaves. In the mix, you can still grasp the beauty of the aspen tree’s white bark and the yellow leaves shuddering in the cold wind. I spent my breakfast there, mesmerized by the shifting leaves. While the government restrictions to openly enjoy the Okanogan Forest do exist, it isn’t as solitary as many think. The summer and fall seasons are important to many organizations, from firefighters to wood cutters.

  I spent the remaining morning in the living room, watching the Visual Vision waiting for news of last night. Throughout the broadcast, nobody mentioned anything. It’s only the near end of September, and the reporters did an excellent duty to warn the region about the months of upcoming snow. I was even educated on their annual reminder of tire chains, and the slippery roads. It looks like Dr. Graham isn’t trying to scare me after all, the snow can be hazardous.

  My afternoon has been spent on my cell, my fingers desperate searched new sentences for last night’s meteor shower. No articles have been found, no video from innocent bystanders of the nearby towns—even NASA made any comments on that subject. While some meteor showers have been recorded over the years, none could replicate the majestic blue meteorites, and the swirling stars.

  My stomach ached for a particular craving. I spend an hour denying the temptation of sweets but my mind flooded with thoughts of hot chocolate with overflowing marshmallows. Giving in, I made a hot cup, and threw a thick wool blanket over me. I left the warmth of the cabin, and took a breath of fresh air on the porch. Kinoki stormed out to do her personal business behind the shrubs. A few deer lurked on the lawn, they looked up at me, and resumed eating. My presence didn’t bother them, they know I’m going to revert to reading my books and magazines. Two fawns sat frozen like when they caught Kinoki prancing around the yard. The doe didn’t mind Kinoki, they ate eagerly—preparing for the shortage of food in winter. One chewed a white sheet that resembles a piece of paper. I looked at my furniture, and dropped my cup of hot chocolate. The ceramic cup shattered across the wooden floor—the does and their fawn rushed into the forest. I remained still, examining my chair, and coffee table. It’s been overturned.

  “Hello?” I called out.

  My pillows laid scattered on the ground. All of the pages of my books and magazines have been torn. Not a single page is on the spine of my hardcovers. The porch has a few torn pages, the yard scattered the rest. There isn’t any reason to imagine an animal, deliberately overturning my coffee table and tearing my pages. Maybe a bear could overturn my table, but it needs fingers to clearly tear the pages off the books. The dumpster diving raccoons never shared any interest in my porch—at least not when my garbage is their only desire. My attempts to find an explanation, frightened me. I started to think of every horror movie where the protagonist is haunted by an evil ghost. Chills crawled up my spine.

  I caught a gray string of smoke lingering on the north side of the forest. My thoughts returned crashing meteorite, from the looks of it—it isn’t far from here. Yet, no reporters are showing up. I finally came to a conclusion, the restricted access to the forest must keep them from arriving here. I decided to wait patiently for a knock on the door. In the meantime, I grumbled from the second spill of the day. I returned to the cabin to hide from the sight of torn pages. A sight I am too afraid to think about.

  Chapter Twelve

  Blood on a Leaf

  “If I’m leaving the safety of my truck, I’m taking my only weapon of defense…”

  My truck faced the north end of the Okanogan forest. I griped the steering wheels,
and took this moment of silence to reflect. It’s been three days since the meteor shower, and nobody has arrived, nothing was reported on the news—much less the internet. After picking up the remaining torn pages from the property an idea struck me—the nearby crash site. Accordingly to the world, the meteor shower of doesn’t exist, nobody except for me. I want to see it for myself, I want to make sure I’m not going crazy.

  My shotgun rested on the passenger seat. Because of my husband’s collection of guns, I learned how to shoot and handle a gun. Even though I won’t be getting off my truck, I wanted to hold on to something that will make me feel safe. I slowly grew near the opening path to the forest. A family of hemlock trees narrowed the road ahead. Entering the forest will become a problem because the land isn’t flat, there are hills, dead branches, and collapsed trees. I will drive as far as the terrain can take me. If I come across a large hill, I will immediately end my journey.

  The rumbling sound of my engine, made Kinoki run up the porch—she despised my truck. I waved at Kinoki who curled her tail on the rail of the porch and watched me.

  When I entered the forest, the dark shade casted by the branches, enveloped us. I drove pass the tight scattered aspen trees and around a wide western hemlock. I turned on the heater to balance the chilly air entering through the passenger window. With my wheels crunching the leaves, and cracking the branches on the ground, I couldn’t be discreet about my journey through the forest.

  Driving slow didn’t help me cover much ground, it’s been 15 minutes and so far I found nothing unusual. I looked at every corner, and behind every part of wilderness—no crash site is within sight. The chilly air has started to numb the tip of my nose. I grew tired of bumpy truck and the lack of sunlight. Even the storm of autumn leaves—a view I enjoy, made me nauseous. Nothing stood out of the ordinary, until I switched my gear into parking. The small hill blocking my way forward is lacking trees. The surrounding ones have suffered some damage, a deadly impact has ripped trunk of the largest pine trees into two, and others have been torn from its roots.

  This is where my journey ends, the crash site does exist. Now there is no point in wandering in the forest anymore. If. Graham found out about this, he would do backflips. I shifted my gear to reverse, and looked back. My feet instantly pressed on the brakes.

  “Kinoki!” I shouted.

  She followed behind, cautiously smelling the ground and taking a few steps closer.

  “Of all the things in the world.”

  I opened my door and called her in, Kinoki didn’t budge. With my second try she acted like she didn’t hear me and her ears to other sounds. Again, it’s my truck that’s keeping Kinoki away. The grumbling engine frightened her.

  Hiding my frustration from her, I turned off the engine and carefully slipped out of the truck. To fool Kinoki, I acted like I had food in my hand and told her to come eat. I smacked my tongue under my upper teeth, a sound I used to catch her attention. With a few pauses, Kinoki finally walked towards me, her eyes glued to mine, I have her trust and she is going to abide. I was ready to reach down for her and snatch her like an owl, but she leaped before I could grab her.

  Kinoki sprinted up the hill, and sat at the top. I called her to come down. Kinoki twisted her left ear, signaling that she heard me—but didn’t care. When she looked over the hill, her tail began to swish back and forth. The sweeping of the leaves formed a thin cloud of dust.

  “I’m going home.” I whispered with anger.

  I’m on the end of my rope. Not only did I get out of my truck, but I’m in the wilderness, arguing with a cat! Kinoki started chirping, a sound she made when she tries to attract birds or the impossible red laser pointer. Her antsy personality startled me, she walked around back and forth, unsure if she should move or stay. The hill is small, but for my truck, that task is inaccessible. The wind blew the leaves from the ground, when they passed me, I quickly took notice. These leaves are dark, they have been burned.

  If I’m leaving the safety of my truck, I’m taking my only weapon of defense—my shotgun. Stepping on the hill felt like mattress, soft and firm. With each gradual step, I peeled my eyes for wild animals. Half way from my march, I caught a distinct scent. Kinoki noticed it too, her nose rose to the air every time a breeze came by.

  The stench began to sting my eyes, an awful chemical is burning. The aroma is so potent, it irritated my nose and watered my eyes. When I approached the end of the hill, I looked below. A deep ruptured land expanded 60 meters in diameter. Within that terrain bowl, blue flames brightly burned around the site. This is where the scent originated, the smell persuaded me to cover my nose.

  The flames fed off the leaves, but strangely enough—it didn’t disintegrate them. I watched in wonder as the leaves folded, swaying around—none turned into a crisp. Small black blotches burned among them, they are dead crows. They possibly got wedged in the impact of the meteorite. The crust beneath my feet declined into layers of soil, they almost resembled steps to lead me to the center. There remains the culprit of this disaster. The astral rock—half buried in the center of the crater.

  The blue flames are harmless, I walked passed them, and nothing unusual happened. The oval meteorite is another story, it drew me in like a scent of perfume. I walked over the dead crows, their faces—frozen from the cold temperature. A magnetic attraction grew from the meteorite and me, I can’t separate myself from wanting to grow nearer. The feeling made me instinctively nervous. I shouldered my shot gun and aimed at the inanimate object. It’s better to be safe, than sorry.

  Kinoki watched me reel to the rock like a bass. I should follow her example and stay firm on the top of the hill but I can’t leave without investigating this rock.

  It looked bigger in the sky—seconds before it landed. Now it’s no bigger than my truck, but how can it cause a crater this wide? I placed my fingers on the exterior, a peculiar dark gloss on the ridged edges, forged from the unyielding heat. The surface is bumpy, rough, and prickly. Tiny specks of crystals glittered at every turn, surprisingly, it’s still warm—even on a cold day like this.

  When I walked around to inspect the dark edges. I noticed a chunk fractured on the ground. It’s a crack.

  Like a broken coconut, this meteorite shattered from the impact of the earth. The outer layer is plain gravy compared to what is inside this rock. A mussel shell is the best link I can make with this extraterrestrial rock. It’s hollow, and bright. Tiny shards of compacted crystals sparkled, glimmering at each movement of my eyes. I can almost say it’s not crystals but real diamonds!

  Fascinated, I leaned inside to get a better look. Warmth emanated from within, wisps of heat evaporated in the air. Something smeared the bottom, but I couldn’t identify the substance.

  As I leaned closer, the hairs on my back began to stand up—the stain is blood.

  "My God!” I cried.

  I walked back—grasping shotgun’s trigger too tight. I fired into the hollow crystal. The shell ran through the meteorite.

  The diamond crystals began to glow a dim color of silver, blue, and magenta, then—it fell back to its original state. Utterly shocked by a glowing rock, the thing that haunted me the most is the traces of blood. Maybe it belonged to the lifeless crows, but that couldn’t be—not when there’s a trail.

  The stain led out of the crater, and into the opposite side of the crater. My knees are losing their strength, this magical wonder and innocent curiosity is gone.

  I am done.

  This is a bad idea.

  I watchfully strode back to Kinoki, each step I made spooked me. My legs stumbled, they trembled when I climbed on the crater’s steps. Kinoki stared, knowingly aware of my fear.

  “Kinoki.” I whispered. “Let's go home—”

  A cry echoed into the forest.

  Horror obligated me to turn around, there’s nothing but the vandalized crows, and burning blue leaves. My stagnant body locked in its place.

  The ghostly voice returned—a wailing woman in a
gony shook the ground beneath me. Adrenaline unlocked my stiff bones, and I paced up the crater as fast as I could. My left foot twisted, and my leg slid underneath me. My hands barely caught my balance, preventing any damage. Calming down my nerves became harder than my desire to run like an Olympic runner. With my feet holding a solid grip on the ground, I boosted my body up and made my way back to Kinoki. The cry returned, this time it howled for help.

  I cringed and quickly grabbed Kinoki, we stumbled into my truck. With my gear on reverse, I left the hill. The voice wailed out again. The hairs on my body felt like a porcupine, there shouldn’t be anyone in the forest—at least not in this area. Kinoki hid underneath the passenger seat, frighten from the bumps and the grumbling truck. The cries continued to call out for me, but I did not answer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Waiting

  “I want to call Dr. Graham and tell him of my terrible insomnia…”

  The cold morning kept me from leaving my bed. I’m even considering going back to sleep. I rolled left and right unable close my eyes and drift away. The sun innocently peeked through the morning fog, a scene that brings peace to the soul. But I could no longer stand the urge to shout at the world.

  Since the meteor shower, I anticipated a group of meteorologists to storm this place, but nobody arrived. The morning news has been a waste of my time, no missing person was reported. I went online and searched for anything that could connect the meteor showers to the Okanogan Forest but the world turned a blind eye.

  I want to call Dr. Graham and tell him of my terrible insomnia, and share the re-occurring nightmares I’ve been having. In one dream I have a baby boy peacefully sleeping inside his crib. I’m watching myself sleep in my dream, until a dark figure drifts over my baby. In another dream, I have a girl—there’s even one where I had twins! Maybe I shouldn’t tell this to Dr. Graham—he’s already pushy as it is. His morning text messages reported the weather with the temperature, chances of fog, and rain. At the end of every text, is a smiley face. I’m starting to suspect his wife has been texting on his account. The real Dr. Graham would add a grumpy face—not a smiley face.