Black Bear Fall: A BWWM Paranormal Romance (Black Bear Saga Book 2) (6 page)

BOOK: Black Bear Fall: A BWWM Paranormal Romance (Black Bear Saga Book 2)
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“That’s how the humans are, how they have always been. They are a fear based animal and difference is their weak spot. Look how they treat each other over different shades of skin colour. If only they knew the kinds of things that are really out there stalking the earth. Their petty concerns would quickly be forgotten,” Nasak said stretching out on the bed. He closed his eyes as he listened to Clarence speak. He had heard his story countless times before, sharing each others pain was a time honoured mongrel tradition. No one in the group kept secrets from each other and only by sharing their weakest moments did the group grow stronger. Nasak would fight to the death for each and every one of his mongrel tribe and he knew he could count of the rest to do the same for him.

“The first few days where some of the lowest of my life. Everything I had was ripped away from me. I wandered through the forest in a fog of pain and heartbreak. I’d started to notice that boney stubs on my back seemed to have a life of their own. They would begin to retract into my spine as the sun went down, only to reappear the next morning. I was in a constant cycle of agony, stealing food from the summer cabins near the lake. Sleeping in derelict buildings at the edge of town. It was on one of my night raids to a dumpster at the back of a diner that I saw my first glimpse of the Fenton travelling show. You know the picture, we’ve all seen it. A man bare chested and howling at the moon, a deformed mix of human and bear brought to life in lurid colours. Something in my gut told me right away that the man on the poster was the same as me. It wasn’t a gimmick or a trick, I just knew that he was like me. The poster advertised that the travelling Fenton show would be in town in three days. It was billed as the ultimate spectacle of freaks, monsters and deformities. The last of a dying breed. I had to go to the show and talk to the man on the poster. Since I was banished from the white bear clan I hadn’t seen another of my kind. I had started to believe that I could integrate with the humans, be accepted as one of them. After my true self started to manifest, I knew all chances of a normal life where over. I wanted to be back with people of my own kind. It became my only chance at salvation and I thought maybe even something resembling a real life,” Clarence said and cracked his knuckles loudly.

“So many of our kind have imagined a life where they can blend in with the humans, finally belong to a group. The harsh reality is the humans would fear us even more than our old clan would. The humans would want to destroy us. The clan sees us as a disappointment and aberration that should be hidden away from sight. They think freaks like you and I would take away from the majesty of the clan. You cant have misshapen deformed creatures living amongst the regal and powerful white bears,” Nasak said spitting out the last few words in disgust.

“Then why come back to them and offer up this woman?” Clarence asked.

“It’s time for change. No more sneaking around in the shadows as if we are some kind of monster. You and I have as much right to be part of the white bear clan as any of those shifters out there. If they don't take us in we always have a more radical approach to reintegration.” Nasak said.

“You know it would be impossible for us to take over the clan. Our numbers are too small and only a few of us are trained for any kind of real combat. We wouldn’t stand a chance against them,” Clarence said.

“We have one advantage my friend. The clan see us as nothing more than freaks. They have always and they will always continue to underestimate us and our abilities. They think throwing us from the safety of the clan would weaken us, kill us off. Their mistake. We are stronger and more resilient than they could ever imagine. As long as they continue to think of us as a collection of sideshow freaks we hold the upper hand,” Nasak said lying back and closing his eyes.

They will always underestimate us Nasak thought and that is why they would never suspect that a ragtag bunch of freaks could ever have any kind of advantage over a pure shifter. Nasak knew he held the real trump card. The wooden crate and the prisoner inside that they had carried for the last month was the key to the kingdom. The creature inside was going to pay for the sins of the white bear clan. Only Nasak and one other mongrel knew who it was they had captured and he intended to keep it that way for as long as was needed.

Clarence nodded his head and knew now wasn’t the time to get into a long digression with his friend. They both knew what needed to be done and that the path ahead was dangerous for all mongrel kind.

Within a few minutes Nasak could hear the raspy breathing of his friend sleeping, each breath sounding like something fleshy and loose was fluttering. He stared at the ceiling thinking of home and his final day. A day mixed with the fear of the ceremony and a kind of reflected pride that came from his father. On that day Nasak was to become a man. Instead he became a twisted broken monster that made clan members turn away in disgust and a shared communal shame at what Nasak had become. His expulsion from the bosom of the clan was quick and brutal. I won’t go so easy on you Tulimak, he thought as he closed his eyes. I intend for you to suffer a slow and painful demise as I destroy everything that you believe is your birthright and I will pull the fabric of your family apart. Starting with your father.

9
Tom

T
om lay
on his stomach at the edge of the ridge and looked across the wide open plain. The train tracks cutting across the browning grassland were the only man made thing visible. To the south the tracks continued on for a hundred miles before they crossed the ravine known as Ravens Wing to the the local nomadic people. The ravine and the bridge that crossed it was the point of no return, if Tom was still on the train by then the mission was a failure.

To the west where the train tracks snaked down from the snow capped mountains Tom could see a thin line of smoke curling up into the sky. He dialled in the binoculars and the image came into focus. It was the White Star, the train he was looking for. From this distance he could just about make out the blazing star logo on the side of the train.

Tom unzipped a pouch on the front of his flack jacket and took out a protein bar and started to eat it. I have thirty minutes before the train passes me by, he thought, as he chewed on the dry fruit packed bar. He finished eating and drank some water and checked the trains distance again. He still had plenty of time. Tom ran his hand over the saddle of the dirt bike. He had haggled the price down to four hundred dollars, the kid who was selling it was more interested in being payed in the mighty dollar than the local currency.

He checked again and now the train was a couple of minutes away. He traced his path across the grass plains on a small map he had and recalculated the time it would take him to clear the train and make it to the front carriage and the sleeping quarters. If all went to plan he should have a few minutes to spare before the train hit the bridge. He checked his calculations again, anything to keep his mind off the dangerous mission ahead. One last time Tom checked each item of his equipment and tightened his kevlar jacket. He was ready.

The train passed by Toms hiding spot and he threw the binoculars on the ground. He hopped on his motorbike and gunned the engine. The bike bounced down the hill and once he was on the flat hard dirt of the grass plains Tom accelerated towards the train speeding away.

The bike was engulfed in a cloud of dust as Tom drew parallel to the train tracks. The back of the train had a small viewing platform surrounded by a railing. Tom caught up and got as close to the back of the train as possible. He matched the speed and reached his hand out towards the railing. The tips of his fingers brushed against the cold metal. He stretched again and the bike hit a clump of dried dirt and he grabbed the handle bars with both hands to gain control of the bike as it shook.

The engine let out a roar as he accelerated and drew up beside the train again. He reached out and his hand grabbed the railing and held on tight. Vibrations ran though his arm from the train. He glanced ahead and then swung his leg over the bike and grabbed with his other hand for the railing. Tom hung from the railing as his feet scrabbled for a foothold. His bike careened away from the train and hit a mud flat and flipped end over end before coming to a stop. Toms shoulders and arms ached as he hung on. His hands began to slip and his eyes were wide as he began to slip off. His right foot found a foot hold and he pushed himself up and over the railing. He lay on the floor of the small viewing platform breathing hard. You were nearly finished before you even started, he thought to himself.

Tom peered in the window into the rear carriage. It was empty. He slid the door open a crack and went inside. Tom stayed crouched and listened. The roar of the train was all he could hear. Maybe his intel had been right and the only other people on the train would be a lone guard with the sleepers. Tom didn’t believe that he was going to get that lucky. He kept low and moved to the end of the carriage and poked his head out to see into the next one. It was empty as well. This is all seeming too easy, he thought to himself and I don’t like it.

He entered the next carriage and slid the door shut. He smelt the other occupant nearly immediately. It was one of Tulimak's augmented assassins with the metal teeth. Tom could smell the metallic twang of the composite biting plate these particular assassins favoured. He stood up, no point in hiding now.

A man stood up from a seat at the end of the carriage. He had been hunkered down, waiting for Toms arrival. He wore a dark suit and as he watched Tom he took his bright red tie off and wrapped it around the knuckles of his right hand. The suited man was twice the size of Tom, pumped up from a course of steroids and gene tweaking by Doctor Clavin.

“Come on freak, time for a lesson,” the man said gesturing for Tom to approach.

Tom sniffed the air again and he could sense it, the train was studded with obsidian. He suspected it was in the walls and floor. If he tried to shift now it could tear him apart.

The suited man smiled and said, “Clever boy. I was hoping to see you turn yourself inside out. Looks like I get to dispose of you the old fashioned way,” and punched his hand into his open palm.

Tom took a step forward and then he charged at the suited man. The first punch whizzed by Toms head as he ducked out of the way and kicked at the mans knee in one smooth movement. The suited man went down on one knee and Tom punched with all his force into the mans exposed neck. The man let out a guttural yell and grabbed Tom by his kevlar jacket. The suited man lifted Tom into the air and smashed him into the ceiling. Plastic shards from a light fell and clattered across the floor. The wind was knocked out of Tom as he was crushed against the metal ceiling. He could feel his ribs protest in pain from the pressure as the man held him aloft and tried to crush the air out of him.

Tom flicked his wrist and the hidden blade flipped out from its housing. He stabbed downwards and cut a shallow gash across the other mans face. This seemed to anger him even more. He lowered Tom like a rag doll and slammed him against the ceiling again with a smash. Tom swung the blade again and the man dodged it. Tom plunged his hand down and with a liquid squelch the blade slid into the mans eye socket. His arms buckled and Tom fell on top of him and they fell backwards into the aisle.

The breath was knocked out of Tom and he scrambled to get away to try to catch a breather. He rolled back away from the man and wiped the sweat out of his eyes as he prepared to fight again. The suited man didn’t move. Tom stood up and saw that his blade had snapped off and it was buried up to the hilt in the mans eye socket. A trail of blood ran from it and pooled on the floor underneath him. That’s one less augmented freak, Tom thought to himself, as he threw the knife housing from his wrist onto the floor.

He crossed the back of the chairs never taking his eyes off the corpse on the floor. You can never be too careful with these freaks, he thought as he passed him. Tom knelt at the end of the carriage and looked through the window into the next one, it looked empty. Tom moved through the next three carriages at speed. Each one was empty and stunk of disinfectant. He got to the last carriage and peered through the dirt grimed window. The carriage was lit by a bulb that cast a dark blue hue. In the centre of the carriage was a steel box strapped to the floor with ropes attached to loops in the floor. The whole carriage was empty except for the box.

Tom opened the door half expecting an alarm to sound as soon as he entered. Nothing happened. He stepped inside and closed the door and leaned against it. The door at the other end was bolted and a heavy padlock hung from it. He allowed himself a moment to relax and then approached the box. He could smell the rich aroma of forest earth as he got near to it. It had to be a resting place for a shifter, now he was about to find out who. There was something else he could smell, something familiar and long forgotten.

Tom tested the lid of the box and it moved under his touch. He lifted up a corner and prepared to open it. He was going to hold onto the lid and keep it between him and what ever was hibernating in the box, shifters could be extremely viscous when disturbed, even to their own kind. Tom pulled the wooden lid off and backed away into the corner of the compartment. He looked at the loose packed soil and it began to stir as the inhabitant began to wake. He had seen a shifter wake up from a ten year sleep and go into a rage. He had to be held down by three other shifters to get him under control. Disturbing a shifter before it was his time to leave hibernation could be disastrous. I don’t have time to worry about that now, he thought, we need the person in this box now more than ever.

The soil began to shift and a thin arm poked though as clumps of the damp soil fell through. It was the delicate and fine boned arm of a woman. Toms stomach clenched in a tight knot as he watched, his mouth hanging agape. A face broke through the soil as the inhabitant began to rise. Dirt fell away from the woman to reveal long silvery hair, high cheekbones and skin as pale as milk.

No it can’t be, Tom thought to himself, as she began to rise and turn in his direction. She stepped out of the box with stiff legs. A long white dress clung to her body, streaked in mud and dirt and showing off her ample chest. In her right arm slept a small baby who was sleeping peacefully against his mothers soft chest. Toms eyes were wide as he watched the women sniff the air around her. She reached up to her face and with her thin bony finger scraped away the mud covering her eyes. Her eyes blinked several times as they adjusted to the blue light of the room. She turned towards Tom and looked at him with her large salmon pink eyes.

“I knew it would be you,” Oishin said taking a step towards Tom. “I always knew you would come back for me. Don’t worry he is not yours,” she said clutching the baby tight against her body. “We can be together again, finally after all these years,” she said as she walked towards him.

Tom backed away not believing who was before him, his mouth hung agape as Oishin approached him and reached out with a pale dirt flecked hand. “It can’t be,” he stuttered as he backed up against the wall. “I gave up on you a long time ago,” he said his eyes wide with disbelief.

“We can be together again,” Oishin said as her cool fingers brushed Toms cheek.He did everything he could not to recoil in horror from her. She was a ghost from his long dead past, a memory that was now standing in front of him as if the over hundred years absence had never happened.

“How is this possible. I heard you were dead,” Tom said.

“An exaggeration no doubt. Maybe from someone that wished I were. I wished I was dead those first few years when we were apart. It pained me to think of you scouring Ireland trying to find me,” Oishin said in her soft voice. The same voice that had made Tom almost fall in love with her on the first meeting. This time it left him cold, a whisper from the depths of a tomb.

“I searched for you for a decade,” Tom said feeling the old bitterness towards her rise again.

“I thought it,” she said, not getting to finish her sentence when the door at the end of the carriage opened.

A man with a thick neck covered in tattoos stepped into the carriage and grabbed a gun from his holster. Tom turned and ran towards the man, fast and low. The man fired two bullets as loud as firecrackers in the confined space, and the bullets ripped into Toms shoulder and flank as he tackled the man. Two more shots fired in rapid succession. Both embedding into the ceiling with a metallic clang. Tom grabbed the large mans arms and twisted his wrist until he dropped it. The man reached for a knife in his boot with his free hand and Tom snapped his wrist and arced back as the man lunged with the serrated blade.

The large mans damaged hand hung by his side and his whole face tensed and went the colour of a roasted ham. The cords in his neck stiffened as his eyes bulged in pain. He darted forward again with the blade, quick for a man his size. The blade swished past Toms face in a silvery blur. Blood ran down Toms side from the bullet wounds and he didn’t notice it. His attention was fixed on the tip of the blade, waiting for the man to lunge again so he could swipe down and snap his wrist. The blade swung back and forth glinting from the over head lights.

The man let out a roar and dropped the knife clattering to the floor. Oishin was on his back and had sunk her teeth deep into his neck. Blood bubbled out from her mouth and the man staggered back all strength going from his legs because of the surprise attack. Tom stepped back and watched Oishin hold on tight, her legs like wiry steel wrapped around the mans waist as he swatted her like a fly. Oishin wrenched her head back and ripped a strip of flesh off as the blood arched out from the wound and sprayed all over the ceiling. The mans knees buckled and he fell face forward with a crash. Blood bubbled from his mouth as his eyes flickered and then shut for the last time.

Oishin climbed off the mans back and stood up wiping the blood from her mouth. She smiled at Tom. Her teeth covered in a red foam. “You’re getting slow in your old age,” Oishin said. She sauntered over to the soil filled container and looked in at the sleeping baby and smiled.

“You haven’t changed,” Tom said, as images of their shared past flooded his mind.

“The Tom I once knew would not have let that beast of a man get the drop on us like that. I think it’s you that’s changed. Have you been slumming it with the humans for too long? You know how bad an influence they can be on us shifters,” She said approaching him.

She stood close to Tom and the smell of cold earth and fresh blood filled his nose. Oishin leaned in to him and sniffed deeply. “I can smell them off you. I can practically smell how weak and feeble they are. Always have been and always will be,” she said laughing.

“Times have changed Oishin. We need to get moving,” Tom said checking his watch. “There’s a drop off point coming up in five minutes. We bail and then I have orders to take you to Twin Rock.”

“Twin Rock,” Oishin said elongating the words as if she was tasting them and wanted to savour how they felt in her mouth. “Let me guess the clan finally made the utopia you have all been dreaming about for centuries. Good for you. I want no part of any shifter society after what they did to me.”

“The clan obviously needs you, otherwise they wouldn’t have sent me to get you. Do you know where this train is going?”

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