The Awakening (The Fempiror Chronicles Book 1)

by George Willson

  The same type of light that was in his room lit this larger room except that these lights were on the walls in the form of sconces. David approached one of them, looking at it closely, wondering again how it worked since there was no fire within it. He noticed lines on the wall behind it leading from one light to another which connected to a button of some kind on the wall and then along the floor and back down the hallway.

  He glanced back into his room and found a similar line entering the room at the floor level that went around his room to the lamp on the nightstand. Although he was very curious about this, he had also noticed that the large room was empty, so this might be his chance to get out of here. On the wall opposite the other doors was a single door with a latch on the inside. He assumed that was the exit.

  He crept out of his room, not bothering to close the door behind him. He walked softly across the room, his eyes fixed on the door that was the only thing standing between freedom and captivity. He reached for the door and slowly unlatched it. He pulled on the handle and light from the outside streamed in. The light reminded him that he had left his hat in the bedroom, but he knew he had no time to get it now. He had to leave while he had the chance.

  Suddenly, a hand bolted from behind and grabbed his wrist before he could fully open the door. David turned angrily to find Zechariah standing behind him.

  “You’re not leaving, are you, David?” Zechariah asked.

  “I’m going home. You can’t hold me here,” David insisted.

  Zechariah nodded. “True,” he said, “I can’t. But if you go out there right now, you’ll die.”

  “I don’t believe you,” David shot back.

  “Really,” Zechariah said. Zechariah swung the door open. David looked out across a wide-open field, the sun shining across it. He wanted to run across it as fast as he could to get away from this lunatic, but Zechariah still had a grip on his wrist, and David was unable to break his iron grip.

  The door to this house was set back about five yards from a sort of cave-like exit. David could see grass on the sides of the opening, and the short passage leading to the door was well maintained and smooth. It still looked like dirt, but it was fashioned to the point of being as smooth as marble. The sun was off to one side of the exit, so David knew that the opening was facing either north or south, but since he did not know the time of day, he could not be certain of the direction yet. He realized that this house was a hole in the ground much like what was under the old mill, but more established.

  Zechariah took a step toward the opening. David paused. When the door opened, the outside air felt unnaturally hot. It was summer, but it was not so warm yesterday. To add to that, it should not be so warm in the back of an underground tunnel. Zechariah turned to him.

  “Are you coming?” he asked.

  David nodded and followed Zechariah the handful of steps it took to reach where the light was just hitting the end of the tunnel. Zechariah stopped him, took David’s hand, and moved it toward the light.

  “This will sting,” he warned, and thrust David’s hand into the sunlight, carefully keeping his own hand out of the light.

  Unlike the slow and confusing burn from the previous evening, this pain hit David full on like touching a pot that has been on the fire all day. It shot through him in a flash, and he howled in pain as the flesh on the back of his hand quickly turned red. The sun had burned him before, but this was happening a hundred times faster.

  Zechariah released David’s hand and David dropped to the ground, cradling his hand to his belly. He glared angrily at Zechariah from the soft ground. Zechariah appeared unmoved.

  “Hate me if you want, but remember,” Zechariah warned, “I could have let you leave.” He walked back into his house and held the door open, waiting for David.

  David looked out into the sunlit field and then back down at his hand, which had the faintest trails of steam wisping off it. He stumbled to his feet and walked back inside. Zechariah closed the door.

  David held his hand out examining the blisters growing on his deeply reddened skin, not only on the back of his hand but under his nails and even down the sides of his fingers. He closed his eyes and held his hand to his belly again.

  “Why?” he asked, truly perplexed.

  Zechariah walked to a chair in his living area. David watched him but did not move.

  “I’ve seen men burst into flames running out into the sunlight when they couldn’t take the darkness anymore,” Zechariah said. “I don’t know why it harms us; it just does.”

  “So we can’t go out during the day at all?” David asked.

  “Sunlight,” Zechariah clarified. “If there are clouds, you can go out. In fact, we have cloaks to cover us during the day if we need to move during that time. It’s the sun specifically that hurts us.”

  “What else will hurt me?” David asked.

  “Garlic, white oak, and I hope you’re not fond of orange juice,” Zechariah finished with a smirk.

  David scoffed, remembering what else he had heard about vampires. Except for the orange juice (something he had never heard of), this was all sounding very familiar but very unbelievable. However, the proof was in his hand … or rather, on the back of it.

  “Does that mean I’m immortal too?” he asked, looking sidelong at Zechariah. Part of him really hoped this was true. If he lived forever, he could go back for Beth, and they could still be happy together. There was a chance.

  “No,” Zechariah said. “We can be killed in exactly the same ways as everyone else. We seem immortal to humanity because we live so much longer than they do.”

  “Why?” David asked. He felt like he was asking a lot of questions, but Zechariah seemed more than willing to answer them. Besides, what else could he do?

  “Something about having a lower body temperature,” Zechariah explained with a shrug. “I’ve never been clear on what that has to do with aging, but to give you an idea: when I was changed, I was your age, or not much older.”

  David stared at him. They live longer, and this old man looked very old. “How old are you?” he asked, picking the obvious question.

  Zechariah looked at him without a trace of humor in his face. “Four hundred ten,” he said. David could see that he was quite serious.

  David’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Was he serious? Four hundred ten? There was no way he could be that old. David looked away from him and tried to let this sink in.

  “So what else is different?” David asked. “You said I’m not human. What does that mean?”

  “Humanity lives during the daylight hours,” Zechariah explained. “They are warm, live about sixty years. On average, they’ll lift up to a hundred pounds and could run from the town to the mill in about ten minutes.

  “You, on the other hand, are cold. You noticed how warm it was outside, yet it is no warmer than it was yesterday. One of your townsfolk would feel hot to your touch and you would feel freezing to them. From your age, you could live at least five hundred more years. You could easily lift that stove over there.” Zechariah pointed to an old black iron stove that looked like it would take four or five men to move. “And,” Zechariah continued, “You could make the run from town to the mill in a couple minutes at the most. You already know what sunlight does to you.”

  David nodded. The evidence was in his hand. He just stared at it, the rest of Zechariah’s words spinning around in his head. Strength, speed, long life, but a prohibition on going home. It was like a dream wrapped in a nightmare.

  Zechariah stood. “Please get some rest,” he advised, “we have to go to Erim, the central Fempiror city. I need to talk to the Council, and it’s a long trip.”

  David shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “I don’t expect you to,” Zechariah replied. “We leave just after sunset.” Zechariah remained standing where he was. David knew he had no choice but to go along with Zechariah wherever it caused him to end up.

  He turned back to the room
he had awakened in not so long ago. The door stood open just as he had left it. He walked slowly into the room and closed the door.

  He looked at his hand again. It was all so impossible. How could some kind of serum have changed him into something that Zechariah refers to as “no longer human?” What else was out there for him to find out about? They were going to a Fempiror City. That meant there were more of them – a lot more of them. Enough to warrant a city and some kind of council. And who was this Zechariah? How did he fit in to all of this? How did he relate to the Fempiror that changed him?

  He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He hoped that maybe it was all a really bad dream, and the next time he woke up, he would be back in his own room ready to take the punishment for sneaking out to be with Beth. He thought about Beth and what would happen to her if all this was real. Would she be able to move on with her life? Would she try to find him?

  Or would she, like the rest of the town had last night, abandon him forever.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Zechariah watched as David closed the door. He was sure that at the very least, the boy would not try leaving during the day. So many questions and he knew that there would be many more before the first few days were done with. There was a lot to know about this life, and based on their first conversation, David Taylor was going to be difficult. The only thing that would make this more difficult would be his having someone special in his life that he would have to leave behind. Those were always harder.

  He turned from David’s room and walked toward the short hallway past his kitchen that separated a small room from the rest of his house. He had a lot on his mind – more than just David. It was more or less what David represented in his world. He was not changed by some rogue in the middle of nowhere; he was changed by a Tepish with the acquisition rank of Redäl Kötz. Where there was one of those, there were more, and that meant trouble.

  He entered the room that contained a seat on the floor in front of a wooden pedestal in the center of the room. A plain Christian cross rested on top of the pedestal, which was positioned in the room beneath a hole in the ceiling that allowed the sun to shine directly upon it at certain times of the day, but not on the seat. Zechariah entered the room and knelt with both knees on the seat. He folded his hands and bowed his head.

  “Father in heaven, please be with this child through this difficult time in his new life. And Lord, help us all if the Tepish have truly returned…”

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Abraham sat on the front bench of the town hall with his father and mother on his right. On his left, were Jonathan and

  Mary Taylor, along with David’s brothers, James and Mark. On the bench across the center aisle were Beth Carpenter and her family. Behind him, the hall was full. Everyone in town had shown up for this and for good reason.

  He looked to the small stage at the front of the hall. Gerald Haugins the fourth was a plump little man with a round face and a body to match. He was over-dressed for the town wearing an expensive suit that the Taylor family certainly did not make, as one could not even the materials in this part of the country. He stood up and waddled to the lectern in the center of the stage.

  While the mayor was typically known for his jolly nature, today, he looked positively downcast along with many of the townsfolk. A glance to David’s mother showed her face tear stained and blotched from crying since this morning. Beth did not look much better.

  “Friends and neighbors,” Mayor Haugins began, “two days ago, Ben Thurman disappeared. Most people attributed the disappearance to Ben’s demeanor. We all know he has disappeared before.” Many of the townsfolk nodded at this. The mayor continued. “However, last night a greater tragedy occurred. David Taylor, the youngest son of Jonathan Taylor, never returned home.”

  David’s mother choked back a wail and buried her face in Jonathan’s shirt. He put his hand reassuringly around her. Abraham had been trying not to cry. The reminder forced him to choke back his emotions and take a few deep breaths. He glanced quickly at his parents. His mother had been crying, of course. After all, David was his cousin – their nephew.

  The mayor looked out over the audience. He appeared to be having trouble with the next part of his speech. “This morning, just east of the Taylor family business, we found the…” and the mayor broke off for a moment. He took a deep breath. Abraham had heard what they’d found, and the very thought forced him to stifle back the tears again. The mayor continued. “…charred … remains of a person. Based on the size of what was left, we can only surmise that these are the remains of David Taylor.”

  Finally, Mary lifted her head and wailed. Jonathan held her tightly in his arms, and she dropped her head back into his shirt. Abraham looked at Beth, who was actively crying and leaning on her father, Patrick. Even his stern face had a softened look today as he comforted his daughter.

  “The last person to see David alive,” the mayor continued, “was Miss Elizabeth Carpenter.” Despite the impropriety implied in David and Beth being out together, the people of the town forewent any comments or indication of their opinions. The mayor continued. “Her parents indicated that she and David had discovered Ben Thurman in a cave by the old Miller place. Mr. Tibbets had gone out to this cave with some men earlier. Mr. Tibbets, would you please relay the results of that discovery?”

  “Yes, Mayor Haugins.” Everyone turned to find Mr. Tibbets, a skinny man in his 40’s at the back of the hall leaning against the wall. He looked unhappy with what he had to do recently, and really looked liked he would rather be somewhere else. Generally, Tibbets could be found hunting or fishing far outside of town, and he only came into town to sell the meat of his catches to the local grocer who sold them in town immediately. There was usually a very high demand for Tibbets’ wares.

  Tibbets stepped away from the wall and barely made eye contact with the mayor as he spoke. “We went out to the area described by Miss Carpenter and found a cave where we discovered more charred remains we believe may have been Ben Thurman. In the cave, we found a small area that looked lived in, and there was a broken lantern on the floor. Thurman may have knocked it over in a struggle.”

  The mayor nodded. He looked back out to the crowd that turned back to him. “Friends and neighbors, while some rumors of demons and vampires may be about, we can be certain that there is danger in Hauginstown at night. I must reiterate, do not go out after dark until we are sure this matter is resolved. During the day, travel in pairs at a minimum.” The mayor took another deep breath. “Funerals for our departed brethren will be tomorrow afternoon. God be with you all through this difficult time.”

  He stepped back from the lectern and sat down, where he removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. Abraham looked over to where Beth was sitting. The people were all standing and leaving at this point, so it was difficult to see her. He stood up and saw her father and mother leading her out. He hoped to see her soon to find out what they saw out there last night.

  For now, though, he knew he would be going home. Perhaps tomorrow…

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Fempiror Origins

  David reclined on his bed, his hands behind his head, and his eyes closed. He was not asleep, but he had little else to do but lie down and relax. His mind formulated plans to escape from Zechariah after dark and return home. There must be a way to get out of here before Zechariah came to—

  The door opened. David opened his eyes to see Zechariah standing in the doorway, dressed as before but now with a long, dark riding coat, a sword strapped to his back, and metal gauntlets on his wrists and ankles. David rolled his eyes and closed them again.

  “Are you ready?” Zechariah asked.

  “No,” David scoffed.

  “What do you need?”

  David sat up and looked directly into Zechariah’s impossibly blue eyes. “I need for you to let me go home,” David insisted.

  “We’ve already covered this,” Zechariah said without a trace of hu
mor.

  “They would understand,” David said.

  “David,” Zechariah said, “I became a Fempiror by choice almost four hundred years ago for a country that no longer exists. When I came home, my family and clan rejected me, and they knew what I was. Our government explained everything to them, but they still didn’t accept me. I know how regular people react to our condition.”

  “But you’re out here among regular people,” David pointed out.

  Zechariah nodded. “You’re not permanently prohibited from being around humanity,” he said. “Like I said, it is our mission to protect them, but you have to be properly trained and conditioned before you can be permitted to be around them. I can train you in time, and we can even do some of it within sight of your hometown, but you just can’t go back there. You have to know how to handle yourself as a Fempiror around humanity first, and that will take time. You may find when you learn enough that returning home isn’t something you should do. Please trust me on this for now. I can help you. But tonight we have another mission that’s been waiting a long time to fulfill.”

  David looked at him for a moment, and then something occurred to him. Zechariah had said something about protecting him, and he was apparently somewhere nearby when this happened. “Why didn’t you stop my change?” he asked.

  “I was too late,” Zechariah sighed. The old man turned silently to the button that the lines on the wall had led to and pressed it.

  Instantly, the light in his room went out. Only the light from the main room served to pierce the darkness that followed. David was shocked. He jumped off the bed, grabbed his hat, and followed Zechariah into the other room.