Defender (New World Book 7) (6 page)

Damn. Even this tiny they’re dangerous.

Taz left the child where he knew her mother would find her; he could see the woman scrambling over car parts, hoods and around fireballs. Only a mother would jump into an insane foray. Taz jumped to the ground; as he ran, he changed. His mind was screaming at him to get away. The nightmare of the skies was only the beginning in this part of the world. Krish should have compensated for human frailty. The storms were too fierce and too much for humans to be battered repeatedly. Taz would need to report to let up. If the Tonans weren’t careful, everyone would die. There would be no re-harvest. Taz wanted to see more of Earth. He wanted to leave the tiny, vulnerable, female child far behind.

* * * *

Haven was curled in Macey’s arms while she read her a story in an oversized easy chair. The child could read, but it was a comfort thing for them both. Macey cuddled Haven close having formed an attachment with both girls. Skylar was more a little sister, but Haven craved a mother figure. Macey’s mother insisted Macey was a mother hen to all creatures. It was true, and this child was no different, Macey’s heart softened every time the girl spoke her name. Macey wished her parents were alive at times like these; she could use her own cuddles of support. There was a deep rumbling in the skies and Macey heard Skylar sigh.

“Sounds like it’s coming again. Third storm in over a week,” Greta said.

“They’re getting worse,” Skylar said.

“I’m sure this will blow over, sweetheart. But why don’t we grab our emergency overnight bags as a precaution and head to the cellar instead of the basement. Haven, honey, take your story; we can finish it later.” Macey kissed the girl’s forehead as she slipped from her embrace.

They all began to shuffle around getting what was needed, in no real hurry. The storms this way were more a nuisance than anything. There was an increase in storms in larger cities. Macey and her aunt tracked what they could on the radio; TV reception was minimal. It was worrisome when other countries became shut off from the world. Macey thought it might be the aliens playing with the satellites and airwaves. Unsubstantiated claims that countries were crippled had to be exaggerated.

Macey watched Haven pick through a few more stories to take; they had a generator and plenty of gas. They slept with a light on at night; both Haven and Skylar had nightmares. Macey looked through the contents of a cupboard, gathering an armful of tins. Dinner would be a small affair of canned meat, peas and round potatoes. The pudding cups would do for dessert. Juice boxes and a small bottle of wine were last. Her mind wandered, thinking she would need to go to the corner store in the morning. The pickings were slim, but the owner was all smiles the day before saying they expected a small truck load from farmers. It should last if they rationed what they had.

The grocer carried a huge rifle. You got what you were given, and he made certain those with kids were taken care of first. He also had five grown sons, who were no nonsense. With his own little army, no one gave him any grief. None of the huge men were able to buy a shuttle ride—none seemed to care. All in the area were talking, and most believed the same as Macey and her aunt. The aliens would leave soon and the storms would stop.

Macey dropped to all fours when a horrific boom sounded; the food spilled from her arms. Haven and Skylar screamed when a bolt of lightning struck a tree, which smashed onto the cabin only feet from where they stood, caving in part of the roof. The rain and wind whipped into their faces soaking them through. Macey was on the move; she yanked off the jacket she’d just put on and wrapped it around Haven, tugging the child into her arms.

The sky was alive in the view through the shattered roof. The four raced outside. Lightning streaked across the heavens in a shower of bolts. Not one streak here and there, numerous explosions lit up the sky firecracker style. The heavens were alive with a meteor shower. Haven was screaming, and Macey crushed the child into her arms as a tree exploded near them. She fled with Greta and Skylar to the cellar at the back of the cabin. The cellar was deeper underground than the basement. She tripped and slid down the embankment, the grass was saturated and she feared flooding but it couldn’t be helped. Topside was volatile.

The women and girls had been together for over a week. The two girls went to huddle on a small metal cot, rusted with age, the mattress threadbare. Macey grabbed thick blankets to toss over the girls while they wrapped their arms around each other. She took a moment to run her hand across each child’s cheek to sooth them. Trusting eyes gazed back.

“Don’t be scared, little sweethearts,” Macey said. “You know it’s safe in here. You’re not alone. You’re stuck with us. I’ll make us some popcorn after I make dinner and read to you both. We’ll just use the emergency supplies down here and I’ll get the things I dropped in the kitchen tomorrow. No worries.”

“You dropped them to carry me,” Haven said. She wore her adorable saddened pouty face. Macey cupped her chin.

“Well, who wouldn’t rather carry you, cutie, than an armload of cold tins?”

“We need the extra gas for the generator,” Greta said. “It may not clear up out there for a while. I didn’t bring the extra gas down in case, well in case…”

Macey knew she meant in case the house was annihilated and there was an explosion. There was no choice now. Macey had never seen the skies on fire before. The place where the extra gas was held might not be there come morning.

Her aunt turned to leave, but Macey stopped her. Greta was in her early sixties. “I’ll go. Watch the girls.”

“It’s in the shed.”

“I know; I’ll be right back. Close the door behind me and bar it, and don’t open it for anyone else.”

“Hurry back,” Haven called.

“I will, honey. I’m unstoppable because I’m fueled with love. No better fuel anywhere.”

Thunder crashed overhead making Macey jump as she left the cellar. The shed was around the back near the forest line. Rain turned to hail and she cried out when she was hit with icy golf ball-sized hail that left stinging red welts. Her arm over her head, she ran. The shed door was stuck as she yanked on it repeatedly. She groaned feeling dumb, remembering the shed opened inwardly. Using both hands she smashed into the door and swung it open, ducked inside, and smashed it closed. Her back pressed to the door, her chest heaving. All she needed was the gas can and her wits. Everything would be fine.

Another storm lit the new area Taz ventured into. It was a smallish town with little destruction. Until now. People were running for shelter from the brutal winds. Taz remained unshielded and ducked into a one-level building. He slipped into a small room and noted shelves with folded white coats. He draped one on and stuck his bare feet into strange blue paper slippers with elastics. They fit.

Wails and moans inside the building drove him to investigate. There were rows of humans on white beds. Others in white jackets were frantically pushing the bed-ridden humans. A last lone human wept off to the side. The scent of the human was odd; its smell was strange and unreadable. If the human was female Taz scented no organ to differentiate. But it couldn’t have been male. In the recess of his mind a thought struck and held about females and why he could scent them better. This female was missing something internal.

They remove a female’s babe organ?

Taz shook his head. Humans removed the organ designed for a babe when the Tonans were hot and bothered for females with the organ. The universe had gone insane. When Taz pulled back the cover to glimpse the female he recoiled. The human had a shock of white hair. Pale skin sported sunken eyes that leaked until she saw him, and she smiled a sweet smile. A lined face where wrinkles joined to create new wrinkles was an oddity. Small brown spots dotted her skin. Her pale lips were thin, she had no teeth.

A tube of clear liquid went into the back of it’s, the female’s, hand. Overwhelming frailty assaulted his senses. The human was near death. How could anyone torture anything like this? Taz was appalled, he hated the emotion but it stuck. She was so young; Taz sensed only ninety five or more. The poor thing was shriveled to child size. She wore a small covering and a diaper. She shivered and Taz grabbed a blanket to tuck around her, then another. Was this punishment for giving up her babe organ? Were the humans wise to the Tonans and what they were after?

“Female?” he whispered. “What’s been done to you?” Did Krish have other experiments Taz knew nothing about? This was horrid.

“My son,” she croaked and lifted her shaky hand to touch his cheek and she smiled.

The touch was soft and Taz knew she was a female for certain. She would be dead soon and the thought saddened him, though he hated himself for yet another stupid emotion.

“What happened to you, little human female? Who did this to you? I never knew females would be injured in this fashion. Even I’m not that cruel.” He settled his hand onto her forehead, she was too warm.

“Hurry up, damn it,” a voice snapped at him. “Why are you standing here? Get this bed into the basement. Her frail old bones will snap like twigs if the doors blow open and the wind tosses the gurney.”

Taz was surprised when a younger female grabbed the bed and began to push it towards a hallway. Her momentum increased and she was trotting while the bed swayed.

“
Old
?” Taz whispered. “The female is old?”

His shield flickered with thoughts. Humans, like female Tonans and Castians must grow old and wither and die. The room stunk of age, imminent death. Taz had never experienced old, aging. A thought flickered. Females aged when they refused to mate. Had all these humans refused to mate? But Taz was certain he smelled males in the beds as well. The idea was too much. He had to get out of here. The smell of death dripped from the walls, it was in the urine on the floors, the scent of fluid from empty beds.

How do humans stand it?

Taz ripped off the coat and foot coverings and smashed through the door where the gust of wind that hit him made his shield go up. He glanced back but the bed and females were gone. Into the storm he raced at a furious pace until the wind died down. He needed to think. Earth was so different. Humans aged, they had little protection. Wind knocked them down. They were a race of toys for Krish to play with. A place evil could destroy with violent games. What was the sense and why did Taz care?

Taz
hated
Earth. He hated the smell; he hated the humans and their pathetic weakness. They were all going to die. Tonans were too rough, too cruel. None would at least have to worry about dying of old age. The offspring of these creatures were tiny, helpless. Krish would turn them into toys and before long they would be broken. Like the tiny girl child he cured and tiny girl child he saved. Why had he bothered? Death would be more merciful. Did he save them to be cruel? What he did wasn’t an act of mercy at all. He
was
cruel.

His mind was racing when he stopped many miles away and went to sit on rubble. There was more to Earth’s offspring. Pregnant females didn’t have a baby shield. He had approached an unmonitored infant, his shield suggested caution but there was nothing to keep him from killing the babe. It cooed and babbled and waved its arms towards him. Another female to twist at his heart. They had no way to protect themselves. The idea boggled his mind.

Another storm hit as he sat thinking. Debris flew overhead. Destruction was everywhere he looked. Buildings collapsed. Cars were tossed, smashed, annihilated. Taz didn’t move, he simply watched. Clouds billowed in, dark and ominous. Rain ran from his skin in rivers, forming a puddle at his feet. A small chunk of cement flew at his face. Taz lifted his hand, caught the hard substance and clutched the strange material and crushed it.

The wind died down. Death hung in the air. The injured were calling for help. Taz wanted to scream at them there was no help, they were doomed. Die now, suffer later, it made no difference. It was getting harder to keep his thoughts on track. He was on a mission, nothing more. He shouldn’t care one way or the other. The first shuttles were leaving, it was early and he hadn’t reported back, so Taz was a bit confused, some flew overhead. Taz needed to get back and report to Krish. Perhaps Krish was informed already the storms were too brutal for humans. He hoped that was it.

The air stunk of not only death but sadness. The emotion creeping over Taz over the last week was pity. Humans cried tears. Their eyes leaked with suffering. Their bones could be torn from their flesh, limbs ripped off. How much destruction could one warrior take and not feel affected? Krish would be loving the scene before him. Taz had to regain his senses.

I will feel no pity.

Incessant howling from a child penetrated his thoughts. He wanted to tune him out. There were children on Earth all right. Scores of them. All suffering. Some areas dozens of orphans scoured the garbage. Each child he saw dead infuriated Taz. The Tonans didn’t have to do this. Krish had spared Taz, why did he need to kill the children of this world? The little ones were more defenseless than Taz had been. Krish could have sent a ship and stolen of-age females. Instead, he was murdering a species. Warring with the helpless. Taz loved to battle, he was a war machine. Slaughtering an opponent who had no way to defend itself wasn’t war, it was evil filth. Everywhere Krish went there was suffering. Krish wanted the destruction for fun. Taz, snarling, jumped to his feet.

The howling boy was under a vehicle crying for help. Taz walked by, gripped the bottom of the car and sent it spinning, freeing the child. Everywhere he looked humans were in need of help. The grown males Taz ignored. The crying female woman who gazed with frightened eyes under a tree gripped at a trapped leg. She cried out for his help. One handed Taz lifted the large limb and continued to walk. He was unshielded, shirtless and didn’t care. No one cared.

Taz was growing too soft with the humans. He should be killing the ones who saw him, not aiding them. Helpless or not, he had a duty to his own kind. He swore the next human he ran into he would kill. He had to. There was too much pity building within him; if he didn’t stop it, the feeling might consume him. He would change in front of the next human he saw and slide his talons into their guts and twist. He would smile as they took their last breath,
he would
. After that thought a female girl child ran into his leg, running frightened of a snarling dog. The child, perhaps ten, was hefted high into the air across one arm and Taz smashed his fist into the dog’s head. The dog died instantly. Taz lowered the child and set her on her feet. She was female. He could let her live. The next human he ran across was a teenage boy. A male child, but a child. Frustrated, Taz left him alone.