Mutation Genesis (The Fempiror Chronicles Book 2)

by George Willson

  Frinyar nodded and watched the forms of David and Beth disappear into the night. What guarantee did he have that they would return, though? They came from nowhere and left in the same manner. Now, he had a night of nothing ahead of him.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  David drove the Levi-Cart at top speed across the plains leading towards Hauginstown. He once thought that he would never be able to find his way back to his old hometown, but after traveling all over the country over the last ten years, he knew where to find Hauginstown. He never went back to it, though, nor even indicated an interest in seeing it again. He knew how foolish an urge like that would be not only for him, but for those he left behind.

  Beth said very little during the ride, just as she had during their ride to Kelïrum, but he knew this one was different. She stared forward peacefully this time, and he wondered where she had gone over the past ten years and whether she could have found it without him. He had asked her what she was thinking about, but she only smiled and shrugged.

  He passed south of a small slope that he knew had a cave in it once. Beth also glanced towards the site where an old mill had stood for years before it burned to the ground at the hands of the Hauginstown residents who believed they were killing a deadly vampire. Now the top of the slope was clear, the remains of the mill long gone. He wondered if the cave was even still there or if the collapse of the mill led to the collapse of the cave carved ten years ago by the Tepish who had brought him into this life.

  They were both silent as he passed to the south of their former home. In the darkness, it was difficult to see if anything had changed in their little town or not. He saw the little road leading into town, but everything was dark. Hauginstown passed them by, and David continued flying to the west. Beth craned her head to watch Hauginstown grow smaller behind them, before she finally turned to him.

  “Where are we going to stop?” she asked.

  “I have a safe place in mind,” he replied. He was certain that even after all this time, his destination had remained mostly unnoticed. Even if someone had stumbled upon it, its builder had made it well enough that it should still be there.

  David brought the Levi-Cart to a stop next to a pair of grass-covered mounds that blended into the landscape perfectly. One glance at Beth showed that she had not even noticed why he had stopped. Only a small tunnel cut into the side of one of them gave any indication that these were anything more than a couple of rolling hills. David leapt out of the Cart and Beth followed suit, though she appeared rather confused. She looked at the mounds.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  “It belonged to Zechariah,” David said. “He helped me in the beginning.”

  “Ulrich told me about him,” Beth said. “He was betrayed.”

  “Yes,” David nodded, pained by the memory and his very real part in it. “We can leave the Cart here. It’s safer than anywhere else.”

  David had not been back to this place since Zechariah had shown him the Levi-Cart for the first time only a day after the Tepish Redäl Kötz Rufus had transmutated him. The sight of the Levi-Cart had left David speechless when Zechariah pulled it out of the small mound next to the larger one. When David considered a moment that he actually wanted to be a Fempiror, it was then, whether he was willing to admit it or not.

  David vaguely remembered how Zechariah opened the mound. He knew there was a handle of some kind hidden on the right side of the hill at about shoulder level. He felt over the grass until his hand slipped into an indentation. Inside, there was a small handle. He pulled out on it, and as smooth as it had ten years ago, the door opened upward to reveal a hold large enough to store the Levi-Cart. The inside of the storage space was carved out of the mound with almost perfectly straight walls, reinforced with wooden beams to keep the dirt from falling in on itself. Ten years had only loosened a little dirt making the walls a little less smooth than they perhaps used to be.

  Beth nodded with a smile. “Very nice,” she said. “How did you manage to remember that?”

  “Well, it’s where this Levi-Cart came from,” David informed her. “It made an impression.” Beth nodded again and then stopped. David glanced at her, and she appeared to be piecing something together in her head. Finally, she narrowed her eyes and looked at him.

  “You’ve had this the whole time?” she asked.

  “Yes,” David said, afraid to discuss it much more. Since the Tepish takeover caused the almost complete decimation of the Levi-Cart, few were left outside Tepish control, and those that existed were usually inoperable. Tiberius had warned David repeatedly that Zechariah’s Levi-Cart was to be one of his most carefully guarded secrets.

  Beth stared at him, as if expecting more, but he only smiled at her. He could feel her eyes boring into him as he pushed the Cart into its old home. He lowered its short legs and turned off the power. The soft hum that had accompanied their journey for so long silenced as the Cart lowered to the ground inside its former home. David looked at it for a moment, musing that the old machine had come full circle now, and when it left again, it would probably never return.

  He turned to find Beth impatiently staring at him. He reached up and pulled the door closed. As smooth as ever, it quietly moved down to its closed position and clicked shut. He turned to her and said, “Let’s go.” She nodded, and they walked the short distance to Hauginstown.

  Even though it had been ten years, the town had not changed at all. The ostentatious statue of Gerald Haugins dominated the grassy area in the center of town. Not only were the little stores where they always had been, none of them had changed. David found it difficult not to look in the window of his family shop on the east side of town to see what half-finished clothes it might contain. On the north side of town, he could clearly see the barber and carpenter shops still separated by the candle maker. Houses, most of which were white, two-story box shapes, still dominated the west side of town and served as their destination.

  David had always taken for granted the house size in Hauginstown, but once he had seen the rest of the world, he noticed that Hauginstown’s houses were larger than most places he had visited. His father had always said that Haugins took care of his town, but until now, it was unclear how he was doing so. David suddenly wished he had time to find out about Hauginstown, since the town had every resource it needed as well as the ability to build large houses for its residents, which would more than justify the desire of its earlier residents to erect a statue to their founder. This desire only served to intensify the nostalgia he was already feeling.

  “This is strange,” David said nostalgically as they stood at the edge of town and took it all in. “This is only made worse by the fact that we’re dressed as we were when we left.”

  “I know,” Beth said with a chuckle. “All my life I assumed I would grow up, grow old, and die in this little town.”

  “We’ve probably seen more in the last ten years than everyone in this town has seen in their entire lives,” he observed.

  “I’ll bet you’re right,” she agreed.

  David noticed that the Whitt’s End Tavern was dark, and he wondered if the town still lived in fear after all this time. He also spotted a night watchman walking slowly around the outside edge of the road, meaning that they would need to stay out of sight, or they could find themselves face to face with someone who knew them. He was not sure how they would explain that.

  “We should hurry,” he said. She nodded, and they moved swiftly along the south side of town towards the Carpenter house.

  They approached the two story, white structure, and Beth gazed at it. It had not changed either. The paint was weathered, to be sure, but it was same house he remembered. He looked at Beth, who stared like one who had found a precious object years after losing it. Her mouth hung open as if in awe, and her eyes moved slowly from side to side studying the structure. Her gaze broke, and her eyes moved downward. Moonlight glinted off a tear just running down her cheek.

  “Wha
t’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I’ve changed so much,” she said. “As I look at the house where I grew up, I know in my heart that I can’t come back to this.”

  “Do you want to go in?” he asked, hopeful that she might have changed her mind.

  “Yes,” she said resolutely. “I still have to say good-bye. Despite what I just learned in my heart, it won’t be any easier.”

  “I’ll wait for you outside,” he assured her.

  “I’ll find you,” she said. She backed away from him and walked around to where her room was on the side of the house. She tested the window, and it was unlocked. She opened it, climbed into her room, and was gone.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A Homecoming Farewell

  Beth stood in the room that had been hers for the first seventeen years of her life and stared at its appearance. Even though she had not been here for ten years, it was still her room. Everything was where she had left it the night that David had come through her window and taken her away. Even the blanket for two she had been working on was still in its unfinished state; the wooden needles and yarn rested on her bed attached to the half-completed blanket. The only item missing was the painting she had finished of her and David only the day before he returned and took her away.

  Her parents had moved nothing else, but her mother clearly kept the room clean since there was no dust anywhere. One might think the room was lived in but for the empty bed. She could only stare silently at it as the memories of another life flooded over her.

  Ever since Ulrich had taken her in that night, she had put every thought of Hauginstown, her parents, her life, and especially David, as far from her mind as possible. She had thrown herself into the Elewo training and way of life thoughtlessly and placed everything behind her. Everything from the evacuation of Urufdiam to the day crossing to Erim to the constant moving around in Erim hiding from the Tepish was little more than a blur in her head. She had become someone else. She was an Elewo: a warrior with deadly unarmed skill and reflexes. There were few on this planet who could match her because she threw herself into every battle like someone with nothing to live for – because she felt that she had nothing to live for. And then, David showed up again.

  Seeing him again brought ten years of repression back to the forefront of her mind. She knew she had to deal with her past, but until they were alone, she did not know how. Now, standing in her room and looking at the life she lost, she wondered if this would help at all. She wanted nothing more at this moment than to crawl into her bed, pull the bedclothes over her head, and hope that in the morning, she would wake up from a bad dream – a dream where she had killed with her bare hands and relished each one.

  In this moment, she was just Beth: a girl from a little town that no one had ever heard of except in stories from other people. She was someone with a past that she had pushed aside for years before it had come crashing down on her out of nowhere.

  She walked slowly around the room, gently touching the remnants of another life – another girl. She ran her fingers along the rack of children’s clothes that she had hoped to use one day when she had children. There were not many of them, but each one had represented a phase of a young life that would never exist now.

  She choked back tears, careful not to make noise in the quiet house. She was here for a reason more difficult than just seeing her room again. She had to look upon the people who loved her most in this world and tell them goodbye. She had to walk away from them knowing that she would live for hundreds of years after their deaths and that she would never see them again.

  She walked out of her room and through her house. The house was virtually identical to how she left it with one notable exception. Hung above the fireplace in the living room was her picture. They had even left David’s face intact. She looked at the happy couple she had conjured into a space neither of them had ever really occupied in that life and wondered what her parents had really thought when it had all come to light. She would never know now, just as they would never know that it could still happen.

  She closed her eyes and walked out of the living room and into her parents’ bedroom. While the house had remained relatively unchanged, the two people she looked upon now had changed considerably. Her younger parents had been exchanged for two very old and grief-stricken people. White that had never been there before streaked her mother’s hair. She knew that the grief that made them look old beyond their years.

  Beth sighed and considered her words carefully. “What can I say to you?” she said aloud, hoping that in their sleep they might hear her words. “I don’t want to cause you any more pain than you must have experienced already. And yet, some selfish part of me needs to tell you good-bye. To tell you that I’m doing well. To tell you that I’m alive.”

  Her father, Patrick Carpenter, stirred restlessly, but did not awaken. Beth walked around the bed to her mother’s side and knelt beside her. Gently, Beth stroked her mother’s hair. Her mother sighed in her sleep.

  “My dearest mother,” she continued. “I can see how my loss has hurt you. Don’t mourn for me any longer. Don’t shed another tear. You both know how much I love you, and I will miss you forever. But don’t worry any more.”

  Beth leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. A tear fell from her mother’s eye on to the pillow as a smile drifted across her sleeping face. Beth stood and wiped her own tears. She walked to her parents’ window and opened it. A chill from the night air blew in.

  She turned back to look at her parents one last time. Her father stirred again, but this time, he opened his eyes and glanced to the open window. The moonlight reflected clearly off Beth’s face, and she knew he would recognize her. Part of her had hoped this would happen.

  “Beth?” her father said, bewildered.

  She smiled. “Go to sleep, father,” she said. “When you wake up tomorrow, be happy again. Smile again. Let the town hear your laughter once more. I’m sure they’ve missed it these past years. I know I have.”

  Her last words barely came out as the weight of the loss came upon her. She walked across the room and kissed him on the cheek. He only stared at her, his face betraying happiness and confusion. She looked him in the eyes one last time.

  “This is a very good dream,” she said. Tears streaked down his face as he watched her walk to the window and climb out. She pulled the window down behind her, but listened for just a moment as he rolled back over in bed.

  Then she heard her mother’s voice. “Are you well?” her mother asked her father.

  “Yes,” he said. “Everything’s fine now.” She heard the covers shuffle again and her mother sighed.

  “Yes,” her mother said. “Yes, it is.”

  Then it was silent again. Beth finally sank to the ground outside her parents’ window. She rested her head against the wall and cried. As silently as she could, she cried for everything she had lost and avoided all these years. She had to get away from their window.

  She ran behind her parents’ house and collapsed on the ground. It all came out. Curled into a fetal position behind the western houses of Hauginstown, Beth finally dealt with her loss.

  And no one heard her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Vows

  David wondered how long it would be until Beth returned. It was hard not to go with her, but he knew this was something she had to do on her own. He could not help her. She did not want his help.

  Instead, he had been observing the night watchman walk around the town square. Twice, this person had missed David standing next to a large tree that stood in front of the houses on the west side of town, and David wondered how efficient a night watchman could possibly be if he was unable to spot the one type of intruder he needed to catch.

  As the watchman wandered around the square for the third time, David squinted his eyes to try to make out the person’s face. On the first two passes, he had hidden behind the tree when the person had walked around to the point where he might see David, but thi
s time, David decided he would attempt to identify this person.

  It only took a moment for recognition to dawn on him, and he quickly hid behind the tree again. He looked up and saw Beth was walking toward him, wiping her eyes. She looked tired and clearly, she had been crying.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked softly when she reached him.

  “Better,” she said. “It was awkward. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know if this helped or not.”

  “I’m sure it did,” he assured her. She stood only inches from him, and instinctively, he held out his arm for her. She stepped into his embrace, and he held her close to him for the first time since he had to drop through the floor of the old mill with her. Holding her body against his, he felt complete for the first time in a long time. She sniffled again as she laid her head against his shoulder. He kissed her head and stroked her hair. He glanced around the tree to find that the watchman was walking right past them. He felt Beth draw in a breath of air to speak.

  “David,” she began, but he put his hand over her mouth. Her stance changed as she went instantly alert. “What is it?” she whispered almost inaudibly.

  “One of my brothers,” he whispered. “We need to get out of here. I don’t know how it would affect him to see us.”

  David glanced back to see if his brother, Mark, had passed by them, but instead Mark, who was now thirty-one, had stopped and was craning his head around, as if he had heard something. David watched him intently until Mark turned around fully to look directly at him.

  He froze for a moment like a wild animal suddenly caught by a predator and then swiftly moved his head behind the tree again. His breath quickened, nervous.

  “We’ve got to get out of here!” he whispered anxiously.

  “There’s no where to go!” Beth responded.

  Mark whipped around the tree, a primitive club raised in defense. “Who are you?” he asked sharply.