The Awakening (The Fempiror Chronicles Book 1)

by George Willson

  The kiss broke finally, and they gazed at each other one more time. She smiled, and he studied every line of her face.

  “I love you,” she said softly.

  “I love you too,” he replied. They kissed once more. She stepped back and looked down.

  “I should get back,” she said.

  David nodded. “I know.”

  He took a step towards the door and held out his hand to her. She took it and took a step before she collapsed, hyperventilating. David knelt beside her. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she sat on the floor, leaning on her arms for support. Her breathing quickened.

  “What's ... happening...” she said, trying to force the question out, but failing. Tears fell from her eyes, as she looked at David, confused. She lost her balance entirely and landed on the floor on her back, still hyperventilating, and moving her body as if in pain.

  “Beth?” David said in a panic, leaning over her. “Beth!”

  Suddenly, a hand grabbed David by the collar and swung him clean off the floor. He slammed hard against a wall of the mill, cracking the interior wall and knocking the wind out of him. The hand maintained an iron grip on his shirt and held him in place off the floor against the wall. David looked up to see the furious face of Zechariah boring a hole through him with his eyes.

  “What the hell do you think you're doing?” Zechariah yelled at him. David had never seen this side of Zechariah before. He remembered the anger he had touched on in Erim, but this was beyond anything he had ever seen. Zechariah was now truly frightening. Zechariah pulled David away from the wall and smashed him into it again.

  “Answer me!” he shouted. “What did you do to her?” David did not know how to say it. One did not discuss such things in civilized society, and given their status, it was not something they were supposed to have done to begin with.

  “We ... uh ... sort of ... consummated...” he began, but Beth reacted again. She arched her back hard on the floor. A scream broke from within her to peel paint or shatter glass. David cringed. Zechariah just watched her. For a moment, Zechariah’s expression changed to that of pity. Beth passed out on the floor. David did not understand this. Zechariah had said it took blood to change someone, and he had not given her anything.

  “What's happening to her?” he asked desperately.

  Zechariah’s expression resumed his hard anger and threw David across the room, cracking the opposite wall where he hit and crashed to the ground. Zechariah walked toward him.

  “What do you think is happening to her?” he said. “The serum to turn one into a Fempiror is in your bloodstream. Coition would also give her the serum. It worked slower, but it is still effective.”

  David stumbled to his feet, winded again. This was impossible. How could this have happened?

  “Forgive me...” David said through his heavy breathing. “I didn't mean to...” Zechariah charged across the room and took David’s shirt in his hand again.

  “If you didn't mean to, you would have done as I asked, and not come back!” At the word “back”, Zechariah threw David across the room again towards the floor, where David landed near Beth, cracking the floorboards beneath him. David coughed, the wind completely knocked out of him. He tried to roll over, but he could not breathe. Zechariah moved quickly toward him and knelt on top of him, his knee resting on David’s chest. David could only look into Zechariah’s face.

  “Give me one good reason not to kill you,” Zechariah said, staring unblinkingly into David’s eyes. David did not know what to say. He had broken the rule that Zechariah held dearer to him than any other. It was the one thing he told David not to do upon pain of death.

  David recalled Zechariah’s exact words in almost this same position: “If you go back to Hauginstown and deliberately change Beth into a Fempiror, I will kill you.” And he had done it. He did not mean to do it, but without trying to, he had done the one thing that, according to the Rastem Code, deserved death. Zechariah snapped him out of his thoughts with a sharp pull of his collar causing his head to rap on the floor.

  “Well?” Zechariah asked.

  David looked at him with all the honesty he had within him. “Forgive me,” he said. “I didn't know.”

  Zechariah spoke evenly through his teeth. It looked like Zechariah was trying to keep his temper in place. “If you are to survive, you must follow our rules. You are but a child to us, and it will be a long time before you will be a man.”

  The two continued to stare at each other. David was scared. Would Zechariah kill him right here? Was this the end for him?

  After a long moment, Zechariah stood up and walked across the room, his back to David. David propped himself on his elbows, looking at Zechariah for a moment. Zechariah did not move.

  David turned to Beth and looked at her face. She looked peaceful. She had never asked for this. She did not agree to it. He touched her face; it was already growing cold. He remembered the pain he had felt before the scream, and it hurt him that he had put her through that. Perhaps she could stay here in the care of her family, though. They would take care of her. Maybe she would not have to endure the same separation he had to now. She could still be happy if she could stay.

  “Get ready,” Zechariah said, his voice still level. “It looks like we have another passenger.”

  David looked at him, surprised. “What?”

  “If it was your wish to have her come,” Zechariah said, turning to him, “then you have it. She cannot stay here.”

  “But ... why not?” David asked. “I always wanted to get away, but she never did. Taking her away from her family would kill her.”

  Zechariah sighed with irritation and closed his eyes for a moment. He reopened them and looked at David.

  “You will study the Rastem Code and learn it like your Bible. You have cursed her, so we have no choice. It's part of the Code, remember? If you had followed it to begin with, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

  David’s head raced. She had given herself to him, and he had taken her life away. He had never intended this, but she would not know that. Even if she did know, it would not matter. He will have had a hand in removing her from her family and the life she had. Would she had stayed alone for him, or would she have married another and had the family she desired more than anything else in the world? A family she would never have now – because of him.

  “She'll hate me,” he said softly.

  Zechariah’s grim expression remained unchanged, though David could detect a note of satisfaction that David finally understood him.

  “Undoubtedly.”

  The soft sound of voices rolled in from outside the mill. It sounded like a lot of them. The change in Zechariah’s expression showed he had heard them as well. He ran to the door and opened it a crack.

  It was only a second before he closed the door and turned to David. “We have a problem,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “I think your loved ones have come to see you off.”

  The statement confused David. He walked to the door and looked out as Zechariah had done. Without light in the mill, there was no fear of the people seeing them from the outside.

  Outside the mill, a large number of people quickly approached that David recognized as being from Hauginstown. One of the people in the front of the crowd was Abraham. Why had he led them here? It did not take long to put it together.

  Abraham would have been upset that David had attacked him, and he would have known where David would have taken Beth to talk to be away from town. Only Abraham knew of the existence of the mill as a rendezvous for the two of them, and more to the point, it was a secret he carried. It appeared that the secret was no longer sacred to him. David had to talk to him.

  David pulled the door open wider, but Zechariah stopped him, closing the door again.

  “Wait,” Zechariah said. “Vladimir is there.”

  David thought for a moment and recalled that next to Abraham was a tall man dressed in black that did look
like Vladimir. Of course, Zechariah would have recognized him at once.

  “I saw him,” David said.

  “Yes,” Zechariah said, “but why did he come? And why is he leading the town here?” Zechariah looked away, his face deeply lined in thought. “This changes things considerably. We were going to just escape through your hole there,” he pointed to the place in the floor that had gotten them into the Tepish’s hideout before, “and leave before they could find us, but with Vladimir here…” He trailed off again, clearly trying to work out why Vladimir was within the approaching mob from Hauginstown.

  “I assume that hole goes down to the cave where you parked the Chaser,” he said.

  David nodded in reply and then stopped. “How did you know that?” he asked. The hole was only made a few days ago when Beth had broken through it, and Zechariah himself was unaware of the cave before David had told him and Tiberius about it.

  “I parked the Levi-Cart next to it and heard you up here,” he said as simply as possible. David averted his eyes, quickly realizing exactly what Zechariah would have heard. He could feel the heat rising even in his cold cheeks as the blood flowed in. Yet, Zechariah did not seem to take any notice of it.

  “Take Beth and escape that way,” he said. “I will deal with Vladimir and the crowd.”

  David was immediately concerned for the well-being of everyone out there against Zechariah’s formidable strength and skill.

  “What are you going to do?” David asked.

  “Nothing to your people, I assure you,” he said as if reading David’s concern. “I just need to find out why Vladimir is here.”

  “Do you want me to wait?” David asked.

  “I'll take the Chaser,” he said. “Just take Beth in the Levi-Cart and go.”

  David nodded. “Very well,” he said and easily lifted Beth’s form from the floor. He looked at the hole and knew this time, he would be able to leap down holding her, and not hurt either one of them. Zechariah walked toward the door.

  David turned to him. “Zechariah,” he said. Zechariah looked at him. “Thank you for everything.”

  Zechariah smiled again, becoming the Fempiror he had met only a few days before. “You have begun a long road, David,” he said. “Follow it to the best of your ability, and you'll find this is not such a hard life. Good luck.”

  David nodded. “You too.”

  David stepped toward the hole. He stared down into the darkness of the cave below. He moved Beth until she was upright in his arms and dropped into the darkness.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Zechariah watched David disappear down the hole. The boy was young and foolish, but the transmutation had been an accident. A preventable accident, he knew all too well, but an accident all the same; a mistake David would never make again. The price of this mistake was too high in David’s head. Zechariah turned to the door and stepped out into the night air.

  The crowd was almost upon the mill now. Vladimir walked in the front of the mob with David’s friend, Abraham, who stood to Vladimir’s right. Upon seeing Zechariah emerge from the mill, the crowd roared, and Vladimir smiled broadly. Zechariah wondered what secrets he was keeping behind that smile.

  “There he is!” Vladimir declared to the mob behind him, pointing at Zechariah. “The murderer who has been plaguing your city. He took David from you! Changed him into the inhuman beast that now seeks to destroy your beloved daughter, Beth.”

  He had the crowd in the palm of his hand. They grunted and howled in lust for Zechariah’s blood. They screamed obscenities at him, and others pleaded for him to give Beth back to them.

  While they reacted, Vladimir had spoken something quietly to Abraham. Zechariah watched the exchange carefully trying to discern what they were saying. Abraham pointed at the mill, and Vladimir had nodded off in another direction. Abraham broke away from the group running to the east. No one even seemed to notice him go, focused as they were on Zechariah.

  Based on the direction Abraham was taking, however, Zechariah guessed that David would have his own confrontation to deal with before he left. He prayed that the boy would handle it well, and not hurt his well-meaning friend to escape.

  Vladimir roused them again before Abraham had gotten far. “He has killed before and will kill again!” Vladimir declared almost melodramatically. “You know what he is! The walking dead! The spawn of Satan! A bloodthirsty criminal who has been left bereft of a soul by God!”

  Zechariah watched Vladimir’s performance, unimpressed. He was playing the part of the classic vampire hunter: the type of person who claimed to have some kind of sacred holy knowledge of a supernatural creature that did not exist. They were always more like witch hunters in Zechariah’s eyes, since every time they appeared, some poor innocent ended up dead for sins they never committed. He was not aware of any of these hunters ever catching an actual Fempiror.

  Zechariah took a step towards Vladimir, causing the crowd to gasp and take a step back. As amusing as Zechariah found it, he knew he was in a dangerous situation since unlike fighting Tepish, these people were completely innocent, and he had to ensure he avoided killing any of them regardless of how bad the situation got. He looked at Vladimir.

  “Tell me, old friend,” Zechariah said, “when did the Tepish buy your loyalty?”

  “Evil dead!” Vladimir declared, still playing his part. “I am a Master Vampire Hunter who will have your head.”

  Zechariah did not respond to the game. “Really?” Zechariah asked. “And these have fallen for this charade?”

  Vladimir stepped out of the crowd, who gasped as their newfound friend approached a dreaded “vampire.” Various cautionary statements drifted out of the crowd.

  “Fear not!” Vladimir shouted. “I will slay this villain!”

  He leaned closer to Zechariah. “Of course,” Vladimir said softly. “They have two deaths with no closure and no one to blame. And then your precious little friend showed up and took a third. They will believe anyone who will give them something.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Zechariah asked.

  “Because you are trouble. And the council wants your head.”

  “The council is afraid of the truth.”

  “No, my friend. The council IS the truth.”

  Zechariah stared at Vladimir, searching his face for any other meaning that the one that Vladimir could only mean. His expression dropped as the pieces all fell together. The new laws. The mysterious deaths. His removal. The sudden Tepish buildup.

  “Yes, you figured it out,” Vladimir said with a smile. “Your warnings came too late. Twenty-five years ago, when you found the massing of a mere portion of the Tepish army, most of the council had already changed their allegiance. They ousted you because they knew you would not follow the Tepish way. Issachar considered it for some time before he refused and was done away with too. The council did not want your words because they have been ordering the transmutations. Council Head Karian is the Elrod Malnak.”

  Zechariah did not want to believe it. He felt as if a part of his life lost all its meaning and died. Everything they had built and worked to keep together was shattered. The Tepish way of slowly biding their time had paid off for them, for now, the truth could be revealed and no one could do anything about it.

  “Then it is over,” Zechariah said in a hollow voice. “The Fempiror way of life is dead.”

  “Only the Rastem way, dear friend. The Tepish way - the way of truth - is the new way.”

  “The Tepish way is vengeance. That’s no way to live.”

  “It makes no difference. The Council of Erim is ours. The only task that remains is to stamp out the only opposition that poses any threat: the Rastem. You're first.”

  Zechariah drew his sword and held it before him. He knew how it would appear to the crowd, but he did not care. Vladimir had broken the code and wanted to further the Tepish way with his corrupt council. Vladimir had violated the belief he had helped to build.

  “If I die,�
�� Zechariah said, “may I be your easiest battle. Let the Rastem live forever, and may your threat always remain unresolved.”

  Vladimir smiled and drew his sword. More cautionary shouts rose from the crowd, but they kept their distance from the old friends – a circle of flame around the combatants.

  “If you die, your order will fall,” Vladimir said confidently.

  “Never!” screamed Zechariah, and he made the first swing. Vladimir blocked it and came around with his own attack. Zechariah blocked it as well, and the two engaged in a fast and fierce battle of skill such as the crowd around them had never seen, nor would they ever see again in their short lives. The crowd did not appear to know what to make of their hunter crossing swords with the dreaded vampire. The two appeared on level ground, so who was to say that the hunter was not just one of them too?

  Four hundred years each of skill, training, and battle culminated between the two as neither backed down nor gained a foothold on the other. Zechariah’s fighting style was swift and direct with each blow having a defined target and each block knowledgeable, quick, and on the mark. Vladimir retained the cockiness Zechariah had seen earlier twirling his sword around his fingers before making a strike – a style that tested the very extent of Zechariah’s skills.

  Vladimir continued his directed onslaught, and Zechariah realized Vladimir had turned him around to where his back was to the mob. Vladimir was beginning to strike more fiercely from the front, driving Zechariah backward, which would most likely encourage the mob to attempt to attack him from behind.

  He glanced to the mill door just beyond Vladimir. He bent his knees and sprang into the air, flipping over Vladimir’s head, neither of them missing a blow or block. Landing deftly on his feet, Zechariah gave Vladimir a swift kick, throwing off his balance enough for Zechariah to back through the mill door, and close it behind him.

  He had hoped to reach the hole in the floor before Vladimir had a chance to notice what he was doing and entice Vladimir to follow, allowing him the upper hand from below. He took a step towards the hole, but Vladimir kicked in the door and ran towards him, preventing Zechariah’s escape.