I guess I was about halfway to the house when I heard movement within the trees. Something bigger than an edash. Those weren’t twigs crackling underfoot of a creature that stood no more than knee-high on all four legs. Those were thick branches breaking. I stopped and glanced around. The noises halted.
I’d been told that no creature larger than the edash had been in these parts for years. Despite being carnivores, the critters were too shy to approach anything more than half their own size. They hunted alone, rather than in packs.
There were reptiles and some venomous insects to watch out for, but nothing large enough to have made those noises. I wondered if my clanmates had spied me leaving or if Gilsa had sent them after me. Maybe one of our bodyguards was patrolling.
I couldn’t call out, however. My overactive imagination shut me up. After almost a week of being free of Nang’s presence, I was on alert all over again. Man, he had messed with my head. There was no reason to think he’d followed us to Lobam, not when our home on Kalquor showed all evidence that we were there. We were a couple of days from having it revealed that we’d left.
I didn’t move. My ears strained. Silence.
After a minute, I resumed my journey towards Clan Denkar’s home. I moved faster, while trying to be quiet. I listened. Nothing stirred, yet the hair on the back of my neck stood up. All my primitive instincts told me to run. I held them off, chiding myself for the urge to panic.
Then a dark figure moved deep within the trees to my right, about ten yards off. I had only the most fleeting image of it moving in my direction before my legs went into a full-tilt gallop down the trail.
Brown fur. Two-legged. Maybe seven feet tall. Massive tusks. Everything else was a blur as I raced along the curves of the path, my pack bouncing hard against my spine.
It was a nightmare. The creature ran parallel to me, coming closer bit by bit, angling as if to cut me off. It voiced weird hooting and cackling, which rang like a lunatic’s laughter. Part of my brain screamed at me to stop using the trail, that I’d reach the homestead faster if I cut straight through the woods. The trouble was, the path twisted so much that I wasn’t positive a straight route would take me to my clan and safety. That, plus I did not want to get lost in the trees with that thing.
It was the stuff nightmares are made of, the endless running with a huge mysterious creature coming at me, screeching its terrible sound. Not knowing if I’d make it to safety before it got me. Not knowing what it would do to me once it caught me.
I swore I could feel its hot breath on my neck when at last, the trees thinned and a mountain of scrap machinery appeared before me. I shot out of the woods into the clearing surrounding Clan Denkar’s home, shrieking at the top of my lungs for help. As I did so, I thought, now is when it grabs me and snatches me into the trees, never to be seen again.
Nothing yanked me to an awful end, however. I was halfway across the clearing to the house when all eight men burst out, blurring as they cleared the doorway to reach me. Gilsa came hauling ass from the front of the house at the same time.
It took a few seconds before their excited jabbering lessened so I could explain what I’d run from. “Tall—shaggy fur,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath. “Giant—tusks! Huge! Coming—after—me!”
While I struggled to breathe and talk, I jerked to and fro, trying to see around Hatzeg and Tiron, whose oversized bulks were between me and the woods.
I was shocked when Larten and Barun whooped with excitement. “A thamom! Practically in the backyard!” Larten grabbed his mother’s hands and kissed them with a pleading look. “Lunch can be delayed, can’t it? Just an hour?”
“Oh, go on. But no more than an hour!” Gilsa yelled as they bolted to the barn, howling with excitement. Except Iramas, who was roused enough to trot in their wake, his features stretched in a grin. Gilsa kept yelling, “If you haven’t caught it by then, you’re hopeless as hunters, and I don’t know any of you.”
I stared after them, stunned that my brush with Certain Death had been met with no petting, no horror, and all the glee of boys on a glorious adventure. “What the hell?”
“The thamom hasn’t been here for the last decade. Its migratory path changed when it stripped the area of the idars roots it eats.” Gilsa pulled a face. “Destructive animal, the thamom. It’s a blessing and a curse to have them in the area. Their hides provide wonderful insulation for the house. We store our supply in the area over the shuttle. We’re down to our final dozen from the last time they moved through here, so I’m a little glad they’re shifting this way again. But I’ll have to warn the district to gather up all the idars we can find before they clean us out.”
The menfolk dashed out of the barn, all eight brandishing—ancestors save me—clubs and spears. Homemade, no doubt repurposed from the metal junkpile and heaven knew what else.
“We’ll be back soon!” Denkar shouted as they hurried into the woods, needing only fur loincloths to look like Neanderthals. Apparently, the thamom could furnish those nicely.
“I suppose the one I saw is no match for four Nobeks, two Dramoks, and two Imdikos.” I would have felt sorry for the beast had it not scared the shit out of me. “Even with its size and those tusks.”
Gilsa waved me off. “Oh, you weren’t in any danger, Shalia. Thamom make a production out of defending their path, but they’re only dangerous when cornered. If you’d turned on it and acted as if you were attacking, it would have run from you. It would have run from Anrel, for that matter.” Gilsa groaned and hurried towards the house. “The cakes! I forgot all about them, and I doubt those men didn’t watch the time. Go grab Anrel. She’s napping on the front porch.”
My face heated to hear I’d run screaming from something that was all bark and no bite. For heaven’s sake, what a big baby I must have seemed. But nobody had warned me. Sheesh. What was I supposed to think with a monstrous, tusked creature chasing after me?
I was embarrassed enough to not go through the house to fetch Anrel on the porch on the other side. I was sure Gilsa needed a few private moments to laugh at me. I jogged to the front.
As I rounded the corner, I saw the mat that we often set out for her to nap on. With a push of a button, it sent up a containment field four feet high to keep her from wandering off. Anrel wasn’t on it. Only her now-beloved stuffed kestarsh, given to her by Breft, lay on the mat.
Gilsa found her cakes safe and sound and came out here to get her ahead of me, I thought. I started for the door to join them.
I stopped short when I heard Anrel crying. Not from inside the house. Not from there on the porch. Somewhere distant.
“Anrel?”
Instinct took hold, and I went running, following the unhappy wails of my child. Around the side of the house, opposite from the direction I’d come. In the barnlike structure where the shuttle was kept. No, not in it. Behind it. I sprinted as fast as I could go, terrified that maybe the thamom wasn’t so fearful of people after all.
I skidded behind the barn, Anrel’s name on my lips, ready to deal with whatever I discovered in a violent manner. Well, almost ready.
He sat there on a stump, bouncing the baby on his knee, crooning to her with a huge smile. For an instant, my knees turned to water. It was Nang. He’d found us.
He had Anrel.
He gazed up at me with delight, as if expecting to be greeted with open arms. “Look, precious. Here’s your mother. Now we’re finally together as a happy family.”
Maybe it was the rush of adrenaline that made it hideously clear. Nang’s beaming face, filled with celebration. Anrel’s tear-streaked cheeks, though she stopped crying as her purple eyes riveted on me. She smiled too. I was there, so everything had to be okay. Except it wasn’t.
A pile of brown fur lay in a heap at Nang’s feet. The hide of an animal with tusks. A thamom skin.
Their hides provide wonderful insulation for the house. We store our supply in the area over the shuttle. Apparently, Nang had discovered them and used one
to scare me and entice my protectors to hunt for a nuisance animal that was as prized as it was reviled. Leaving me and Anrel without guards.
How long had he been here, watching us? A day? Two? Since we got here?
I stared at him. I’d forgotten what a large man Nang was. He’d lost weight, leaving his eyes hollowed, his body gaunt. But still, much bigger than me, at least as tall as Oses. A behemoth in comparison to Anrel. His hand cupped the back of her head and neck, supporting her. How easily he could do harm to my little girl who stared trustingly up me, her mother who would make it all right.
Unless I couldn’t. I had no idea what to do with him holding my child hostage, except beg.
“Give her to me, Nang,” I said, in as calm a voice I could muster. “Give me my baby.”
“Our baby,” he corrected. “The first of many. You do want a lot of children, don’t you?”
I tried to come up with an argument that would convince him to give Anrel up. “She’s not yours. Her father is Dusa. They did a genetic anomaly test to confirm it.”
One side of his mouth curled up. Naughty Shalia, I heard in my memories. He’d called me that often. And what would happen after that—my stomach twisted.
“None of the potential sires had anything to suggest a genetic matching test was required. I saw the reports. I had access to them until I left Earth.”
“Then you don’t know for certain that she’s your daughter.”
“I know in my heart.” His certainty was chilling. He couldn’t be convinced.
I had to try anyway. At the very least, I could delay whatever he had in mind until my clan and security guards returned. “A Kalquorian child’s fathers are not determined by biology. I have a clan; therefore, Anrel is their child. Not yours.”
“You and she will never be theirs!” Nang half-rose from his stump. I thought his hands tightened on Anrel, and I readied to spring, to try to wrench her from him before he could hurt her.
But he settled down almost immediately, his expression going from red-faced rage to calm certainty once more. “I’ve gone through too much to give you up to others. We were meant to be together. You’ll see. After a little while, you’ll understand.”
“Nang, listen to me,” I said, inching closer, looking for some opening that would allow me to save Anrel. “Where can we go where we won’t be hunted down? You were smarter than anyone gave you credit for. You made it to Kalquor. You found me and Anrel. You figured out we came here, outsmarting some pretty crafty guys in Global Security.”
“I did, didn’t I? They underestimated how overpowering love can be. How it can inspire a man to claim what is his.” Nang beamed with pride.
“Running off with a baby is another matter. Kalquorian babies are few, and you won’t be able to slip away with this one. You need to stop and think about what’s real and what’s fantasy, Nang.”
“But you’ll tell them you and she belong with me.” Nang’s assuredness was dumbfounding in its solidity. “We had something special before you met this Clan Seot. No one can fault you for giving them up and returning to me.” He barked a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. “You should have never left Earth. I should have stopped you. I was a fool to let those boys and that asshole doctor come between us.”
My temper boiled at his reference to Nayun. The only reason Nang wasn’t picking his teeth up off the ground was because he had Anrel.
I settled for, “Watch your mouth in my child’s presence. I don’t tolerate filthy language around her.”
He finally appeared chagrined. “Oh, you’re right. Sorry, my lady.” He kissed her ears. Anrel giggled and stared at him, the strange man who had woken her from her nap and tickled her ears.
I tried again. “Give me my child.”
“Our child.” The cool way he said it told me Nang was getting irritated with my insistence he had nothing to do with her.
“Whatever. I want her.”
“Good.” Nang stood and cuddled her close. “You’ll have no problem following us to my shuttle then.” He started off, walking towards the woods, carrying Anrel away.
My heart jolted. “Nang—”
A blurred figure shot from around the corner and halted next to him. Nang froze as Gilsa pressed the barrel of a pulse rifle between his eyes.
“Take the baby, Shalia,” she spat, her expression deadlier than any Nobek’s I’d ever seen. There wasn’t the slightest tremor as she held the weapon on Nang. “Move a fucking inch, hurt either of them, and I will blast you straight to the ancestors, gurluck,” she snarled at him. “And I do not apologize for my language.”
I didn’t question Gilsa for a second. I raced to grab Anrel, sure Nang would snap her neck, or drop her to snap mine. But I went, knowing this was my chance to win my child from him.
Maybe in the midst of his madness, he saw he had no chance against Gilsa. I admit, I think I peed myself a little at her glare, and it wasn’t trained at me. I was positive she’d kill him. Positive.
I believe with all my heart she would have, had Anrel not been there. The baby’s wide-eyed presence was the only thing that kept Nang alive after I grabbed her and jerked away to stand behind my mother-in-law.
“Into the shuttle. Start it up. Hurry,” Gilsa commanded me.
I went. Gilsa backed off from Nang, following me with the pulse rifle aimed at his head the whole while. He watched her, and as much as her look had scared me, his was almost as bad. Nang was too cautious to challenge her, but the predatory expression he wore said he waited for Gilsa to make a mistake. If she did, it would be her last.
I’ve had some pretty fucked-up moments in my life. Maybe a few that were worse than that one. But it ranked up there. No doubt about that.
Keeping an eye on them both, I raced to the barn, threw the doors open wide, and jumped into the shuttle. The hatch was wide open, left that way from the guys working on it. I swung into the pilot’s seat and sat Anrel on my lap. I powered it up, swearing under my breath as the engine spluttered. “Don’t you dare act up now. You will run well enough to fly us out of here,” I snarled at the vessel.
It smoothed out…in time for me to hear the distinctive zip of the pulse rifle go off twice.
I had an image of Gilsa killing Nang. Another image of Nang grabbing the rifle and killing Gilsa. Of them wrestling for the rifle and it going off as they fought.
My awful choices narrowed as Gilsa raced into the barn, holding the rifle. She lunged into the shuttle and grabbed Anrel, plopping into the co-pilot’s seat and yanking the safety harness on. “Go! Go!”
“Did you kill him?” I babbled as I sent us out of the shelter at a speed I shouldn’t have. But fuck it. Anrel was secured, and the fact Gilsa was screaming at me to go told me Nang was out there and alive and able to do some damage. We flew into the air, the craft listing drunkenly as I fought to avoid the house. I straightened it out and flew in the general direction Gilsa pointed me to.
“He’s alive. I shot into the air to alert our clans. Scared the shit out of him when I did.” Gilsa laughed breathlessly. “He took off into the woods, but it wasn’t a good idea to stick around for him to come back.”
“He’s got a shuttle close by,” I said.
“I heard him trying to lead you to it. I was hoping he’d give me an opening to get Anrel from him.”
“Should we search for him?”
“No, fly for town instead. There is no telling how far away our men are, and we need to be near witnesses in case that Dramok decides to follow us. Plus, it’s the only area with enough signal to reliably reach law enforcement in a hurry.” She had her com out, trying to call for help at the same time she fiddled with the shuttle’s communications system. “Nothing.”
The engine coughed. “Don’t pull this shit,” I muttered to the shuttle. As if to answer, it coughed again and sputtered. There was a grinding I hadn’t heard from it before, which grew louder with each passing second.
“Better put us down near the ground, Shalia,” Gils
a advised me. “Just in case. I wish we’d had the parts to repair the shuttle before this happened.”
I had an unwelcome thought. “You’re good with mechanics. Check the gauges. Nang pulled a thamom skin out of your supply. He might have screwed with more than a costume.”
“Crap.” Gilsa peered at the readouts, tapped a few buttons, and frowned. “The bucket is running too hot. And it’s getting hotter fast.”
“How far to town?”
“Four more minutes flight. Twenty miles on foot.”
The engine went dead for a couple of seconds before blatting back to life. I smelled smoke, and red indicators came on. The ship lurched, and an alarm went off. “We’re not going to make it.”
Shalia's Diary Book 12 Page 12
