“Do you communicate with them?”
“Their leader, he calls himself DaV-nin, leads all of his kind.” Clarity shuddered at the name, his tone was guttural, animalistic, almost a growl. Clarity could understand a Neanderthal being named but a dinosaur with a name, calling itself by name, was unconventional and too strange.
“DaV-nin,” she whispered.
“DaV-nin,” he repeated, rolling the words in a growl. “Their number is many and growing. Far outnumbering my own kind. We understand each other well enough. They use little words, mostly whistles and hand gestures, grunts and growls. They adapt to any weather, heat, cold, rain. And they make use of skins and furs as do my people. I’m uncertain where they live, or what their home structures are, but I think they dwell deep within caves. Dinosaur and man. When they need to they switch to the use of the bones which will aid their environment necessities best.”
“So they wear clothes. Like the Neanderthal their flat nose and added mucus warms cold air, so maybe they don’t migrate. The feather fur is a bit of a surprise, must be the dinosaur aspect. They think, problem solve. Brilliant, really.” Clarity sat pondering; the scientist in her couldn’t help but be impressed.
“Deadly, more so.” His tone again suggested an evasion of truths. He turned and sat beside her as the torrential rains rose from beyond the stone opening.
“Why does it rain up?” Clarity asked.
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“The clouds release the rain.”
“Yes, so does the ground.”
“That is the most extreme sense of evaporation I’ve ever witnessed. So, do I just wait for a sinkhole to come pick me up?”
He cast her a fast glance before looking away. “No, you will come with me. I’ve explained the hybrids to you for a reason. This planet is dangerous to those who don’t know it. You are safe with me and my people. There are few rules. You will be happy. We have simple lives, no currency. We trade expertise. It takes about a year before you will be welcomed home.”
Clarity groaned. A year to be here, a year to go home and die, that had to be why the scientists found the bodies. Or had she already traveled a year? There would be no way this man could know to return was certain death. What would be worse, here or dead? Maybe not all died on re-entry, maybe. Living with dinosaurs on a strange planet wasn’t on her bucket list—at twenty-eight she didn’t have a bucket list.
Crap.
“I can’t stay a year. I have no clue how to survive here. I have no home or job. If your kind has no currency, I have nothing to trade.” She was mortified; she couldn’t keep the wail from her tone. The three hundred and ten dollars and eighty-five cents in her wallet was useless. The same with her credit and debit cards. All she had was her purse and the ripped and stained clothing on her back.
Doom reached to clutch her hand. His features tightened. “There is no one better than me to take care of you during your time here. Entrust your life to me. I promise to keep you safe.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I will.”
****
Doom meant what he said to the human female. Clarity, her name is Clarity. What a beautiful name. There was nothing more precious than her life to him. Her life meant the salvation of one of his people, his family. Doom’s family survived for decades together; there was no one more important than the people he cared for. For a year, Clarity was his to feed, clothe, and care for. The first of many, he hoped. Eventually, she would be moved from the protected area to aid another family through the rough winter approaching.
During the time of the great sleep, the human children in the village would need to rely on human adults. He learned humans thought it odd he and the villagers hibernated for a short time, the coldest time; Doom thought it odd humans didn’t.
Keeping the truth from humans was imperative, especially when the villagers slumbered. The snow was deep and humans would freeze to death if they left the safety of their homes. There was no escape. The bulwarks hibernated as well, but the snowdrifts were brutal. If the humans ventured out, sank into the snow, and died, Doom’s people would die. Humans brought to the village were made to feel safe and wanted. Each was coveted. Everything was provided for them. Locking them all together with the human children in the safe area was impossible for six weeks. The humans needed to be able to roam the entire shelter, to access food supplies and water. Keeping them in the village at all times was paramount.
The humans he met were happy to stay in the safety of the village. From the village, they could see certain dinosaurs that helped prove his point. Many times Doom had come across a human fleeing from a dinosaur. Their flight for life into his arms made trusting him easy. He wished it was.
The storm stopped and Doom took the opportunity to guide Clarity from the cave. He needed to see her safely to his people. Glancing at her as she watched every moving leaf, he wondered if he should keep her for the duration. The Neandersauri coveted human females the most. Doom didn’t know why the females were killed, as were males. If the beasts who discovered her tried to interact with her, Doom wondered if it was to send her in his direction or kill her. The beasts had never kept humans on their own. They wouldn’t take the time to feed and house them, to keep them safe. It was rumored the hybrids hibernated, but Doom wasn’t certain. The hybrids wouldn’t keep humans close when vulnerable. Unless they were never vulnerable as was also rumored. To date, Doom knew of no one who had killed a hybrid, the theory was too much to grasp.
Clarity grabbed his hand at a shrill noise. Humans always behaved in this fearful fashion at first. Doom could only imagine their terror, especially after hearing how docile their planet was. It was hard for Doom to imagine a world without dinosaurs and hybrids. At first when the harvest of humans began, Doom guiltily sent them to their demise, and though the guilt was raw and real, learning their planet was home to billions of humans made the sacrifice easier. A planet that harbored billions could afford to miss a few each year. Doom wasn’t greedy; he wanted only to meet his quota. The villagers of Dooms’ kind counted in the hundreds, or small thousands, if that, spread over the planet. It was hard to tell when gatherings of clans ceased so long ago, before Doom was born.
Humans who came through the sinkholes spoke of countries and States or Provinces. Doom had traveled often on his planet before the village was created. He couldn’t fathom a world where people were cut off from one another by oceans. His kind were kept apart by hybrids.
The female’s small hand was warm and sticky. With bits of tree and sap covering her, he could only guess at where she sought shelter from the beasts. Her earthy smell could have been what put them off, perhaps questioning if their scent was right. This little human was smart. For a second his heart raced, he had to hand the humans over by setting them loose in the forest of loss, the villagers aptly named the area. If the offerings escaped the beasts, it wasn’t his fault. His breath expelled in a sigh, no human ever escaped. The beasts were too efficient, the humans too afraid. The hybrids learned sweet whistles would draw a human to their fate. It’s why no villager ever whistled, and human children were reprimanded if they did.
The males of his tribe had a hard time letting go of the beautiful humans found. Letting this one go would be difficult for them all. But when a protest was made, the ultimate question was would they be willing to sacrifice someone from their own family. It was rare, but there had been a few occasions his people gathered more than their quota of humans, and then a nearby tribe would trade for a human if they were short.
Doom’s people were more important than the humans. So were the other tribes fighting for existence. It was a race to find any humans, many perished moments after landing on the planet, the other creatures of this world made no deal with the Neandersauri. They wouldn’t know how. Sometimes Doom damned his people’s ability to think. Even humans used the term “ignorance is bliss.”
Doom’s people had an uncanny life span compared to humans, so he was told.
He supposed it was part of their ancient breeding with other humanoid types. He never really questioned the amount of time for his existence before. Doom learned humans were obsessed with the concept. As the animals of his planet evolved, mixed, and the strong prevailed, so too did Doom’s kind, and unfortunately so did the hybrids. His people had stopped breeding, and as far as Doom knew only his kind and the hybrids were left of the known thinkers. For every new birth, DaV-nin wanted another sacrifice. In a way, Doom’s people saved as many of the humans as possible, sacrificing the joy of having their own children to spare suffering. Human children found wouldn’t add to the quota. The evil beasts considered them offerings sooner or later.
At Clarity’s gasp, and the pressure on his hand increased, Doom watched as a dinosaur crept by. Humans told him it was a mix of a turtle and alligator. Doom had never seen either species as a whole and was surprised when humans informed him their creatures were mixed. He should have known earlier in his planet’s history animals bred for supremacy. It was that or extinction, but the knowledge was a revelation when he first learned. The creature lumbering before them was massive and would attack if cornered or challenged, Doom did neither.
Clarity pressed against him, eyes wide. Culture shock apparent. Doom had no doubt if he went to Earth the culture shock would be his. Humans spoke of strange inventions, artilleries, but none were capable of recreating such weaponry. Strange lightning that zipped across the heavens instead of weaving through tree trunks. One human was able to develop matches. For a while, Doom had optimism that one human would be the one to save them, but it didn’t happen. There was always hope in the back of his mind a human would come to help them with the hybrids. Each sacrifice dimmed his hope.
The beauty beside him was timid, small. She would be among the first captured when the time came. It was a shame; she was the first female in a long time to stir his loins until he quashed his ardor. There would never be anyone for him. Some human men lasted longer during the hunt, when they possessed brute strength. It wasn’t morbid curiosity that led him to watch the gathering on one occasion. A human man, powerful yet weak with kindness had fought back. He was brought to his knees by a hybrid, thrown over a shoulder, and taken away. Doom watched no more gatherings after that, hope was too elusive.
There was nothing strong about Clarity. Her dainty hand lifted to brush a lock of hair from her face. She was what humans called Caucasian, but something about her features nagged him. She was human there was no doubt; he’d seen many humans of varying colors and races. His mind shrugged, her looks didn’t matter; she was a sacrifice. For the next year, Doom planned to make certain her life was happy. She deserved that. Her hair was damp from the storm, her eyes a whirlwind of mystery waiting to unfold. He hoped she had many stories to tell. Humans were fun during the long winter months before the deep sleep of the most brutal of weather, swapping tales of their adventures.
She’s cute…so were many.
The first thing she needed was a bath, then clothes, then food. He debated whether he should put her alone in the protection chamber. When they entered his camp, she decided for him when she gripped his hand in a way it would take a T-rex of old to pry her off. He chuckled at the image conjured. The T-rex was said to be formidable at one time. Folklore.
Curious about the newcomer, the villagers came forward. Some of the older women wiped tears away or ducked heads to avoid a direct glance, welcomed Clarity, and moved off. The men eyed her. Some looked hostile but they were of an age to want a mate; the anger came from frustration. Trading for mates with other villagers became scarce as time went on. Doom’s race was destined to suffer alone.
“Good God what is that?” Clarity asked.
A lumbering malevolent bulwark slowed as they passed it. The beast sniffed at her and Doom was certain she’d climb into his arms. The female beast was taller than Clarity while on all fours. Dark shaggy brown in color. The beast’s head was massive, her shoulders broad. Huge feet sunk into the moist ground leaving the impression of her five three-inch claws. As the beast sniffed, her lips curled back exposing sharp teeth. Doom always imagined it was her way of smiling. Even Doom could smell Clarity’s fear. To Clarity’s credit, she stood still until he realized she was frozen to the spot in terror. This was her first exposure to such a creature. The idea of a race losing their heritage to a meteor or the environment was something unfathomable. Then again, the humans didn’t suffer from hybrid dinosaurs.
“The beast won’t hurt you, Clarity. There are four who protect the village and villagers. Including you, now that it has your scent. It’s an evolved creature, a cave bear wolf mix. A human called them mutts. This one is female.”
“I died and went to Jurassic World,” she whispered.
The beast ambled off grunting and Doom turned her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You are alive. Trust me.”
“I may need new underwear,” she mumbled.
Doom chuckled. He enjoyed spirit; he’d have to reassess her. Doom could learn to care for this human, in a small way. “Come with me. I will show you a place to bathe. I need your clothes, I will provide more.”
“Why my clothes?”
“Other animals, dinosaurs might come if they scent the strangeness of your garments. The satchel you carry must be burned as well. The animals on this planet are a curious lot. Nosy-ass things.”
Clarity gripped her leather pouch to her chest surprising him. Her features twisted into an unpleasant scowl. Feet spread her stance was rigid.
“On my planet, a man knows better than to mess with a woman’s purse.”
Doom blinked. No other humans had ever come through the sinkhole with anything but the clothes on their backs, some not even with that. He admitted to being curious as to what the sack contained. He thought he would look through it and dispose of it while she washed.
“Give me the item,” Doom said, holding out his hand.
Her scowl deepened. “No way. It’s all I have of home.”
“I will not argue in front of my people; you will do as I say. It’s best you start now.”
“No.”
Doom heard chuckling from behind him. A small group of men was watching. Soon everyone would be talking. He wasn’t about to battle a female in public. It was beneath him to engage in a tug-of-war. In public. Shaking his head, Doom dipped down and tossed her over his shoulder. She howled as though being eaten. Doom had no clue what was in her sack but he cringed when it connected to his ass repeatedly.
“Hell, female. What the fuck is in there, a T-rex?”
“Only things I need and I’m keeping it,” she bellowed.
She whacked him again. Then again. Doom growled.
Something tells me this will be the longest fucking year of my life.
Chapter Four
Clarity sat naked in a cove of water, clutching her sodden purse to her chest. Both she and Doom were snarling and gasping in air. He was as saturated as she was. The wet hide knee-length pants he wore pooled liquid at his moccasin feet. Eerie droplets of water dripped from faces tattooed on his body as though the images wept. Doom tried wrestling the purse away while she fought like a wildcat; he bore the assault of a perfect French manicure. He managed to strip her, but she felt victorious as she held onto her purse. He stood outside of the large pool soaked, fists balled, a hand squeezing lace panties, looking as though he may lunge for her. Clarity leveled her best evil glare, the one that made Edward run for cover, onto Doom.
“You’re going to have to bust my arms before you pull this purse from my cold dead chest. If you live.” The words were controlled menace.
Doom roared in fury, clutched the rest of her clothing up off the floor and left, stomping from the hut-like structure inside a larger cave.
“Damn,” she grumbled. “A three-hundred-dollar purse and he acts like it’s Pandora’s box.”
Searching her surroundings Clarity placed the purse on a natural rock shelf. The ceiling overhead was that of the cave. Four larg
e hide walls made inside the interior were for privacy and warmth as added protection from any breeze. Further, she could see other steaming pools. She wondered at hot springs. The light in the room emanated from strategically placed rocks. A fire outside the cave entrance kept predators away, so Doom managed to inform her as they fought. He seemed under the impression her small weak self should be terrified without him. She admitted part of her was when a bulwark nudged the hide aside to peer at her. Clarity wondered if the beast could smell the food in her purse.
The people seemed ancient and uncouth, but the landscaping of the pool was solid, beautiful, and breathtaking. The pool she sat in was smoothed stone. She shifted and noted where her behind sat was lit with a bright light, not hot. Curious, she touched the side of the pool. When she pulled her hand away, the rock glowed a soft blue, further lighting the area.
Reaching, she lifted the purse and scrambled to her knees in the waist-high water. There was no light where the purse had sat. Clarity touched the rock. Warmth tingled her fingers, and soon the rock lit with her handprint.
Florescent minerals. Extreme thermoluminesence.
“Weird and yet mildly entertaining.”
Clarity rifled through the contents of her purse and pulled out a wet wipe to wash her body with. She used her small containers of soap, shampoo, and conditioner to get rid of the sticky sap and places where rain hadn’t washed away the mud. When finished, she pulled out her scarf, frowned at the lace, and decided she could dry it off. After patting down her skin until she was less wet she wrapped her hair in the scarf after combing the tangles, donned an extra pair of clean silk panties tucked away in a side pocket, and sat on a polished chair of wood and waited with her purse in her lap.
Clarity's Doom (Ancient Origins Book 1) Page 5
