Feral Heart by Duron Crejaro (distant reading .TXT) 📕

Interesting indeed.” He scratched his chin before continuing, “But that’s not why you’re here is it?”

 

I smiled at his insight, maybe he was wiser than I suspected? “My friend Cami was taken by Enforcers. I tried to find out what they do with Wylder they take, but no one would tell me anything.” I frowned a little as I spoke, registering my contempt.

 

“Yes yes. Nasty business that is. Luckily for you.” He turned his smile up at me. “I am aware of what happens.”

 

I perked up, “So you can help?”

 

“Possibly. Really it depends on you I think.”

 

“On me?”

 

“How far are you willing to go to help this friend of yours? Cami.” His gaze gave me a moment’s chill that I conquered.

 

“I’ll do whatever,” I stressed the word. “It takes to save Cami. She is my best friend.” I put as much conviction as possible into my voice.

 

“Well then.” He clapped his hands together, giving them a brisk rub before continuing. “Come with me.” He strode from the room, and I followed.

 

Moments later we were in what I could only call his study. A large antique desk sat in the middle of the room. He beckoned me over to it, and I was surprised to see an detailed map of the local areas. A well-kept relic of the Old World, it was covered with Bobby’s own notations.

 

“There,” He pointed. “Is what is now Nashboro.” There was a thin line penciled around what I could only assume was the perimeter wall. “And this.” He said moving his finger slightly northwest. “Is us. In Springwell. Originally, it was called Springfield, till it was abandoned. We renamed it when we took over.” He said with a satisfied smile.

 

“Ok, but what does that have to do with Cami?”

 

His finger moved even more northwest as he pointed, “Here is what used to be a military post, before the apocalypse. Now, it’s a small city-state operating independently of everyone else. They have for several years, been conducting experiments on the Wylder.”

 

“So Nashboro sends them to this place?”

 

“Oh yes. We frequently intercept their convoys, but not always. Some make it through. When we do, we bring the Wylder here to live with us if they want. Of course, we don’t demand it, they are free to go if they wish, though most choose to stay.”

 

I pondered this a moment, it would make sense to stay here, safe with others of their kind. “You think Cami will be in one of these convoy’s?”

 

A quick nod, “We expect one tomorrow, we plan on raiding it. You should join us.”

 

I blanched with confusion, “Why me? What possible help could I be?”

 

He shrugged, brushing it off. “You never know.”

 

With that he would discuss it no more, only telling me that I should visit Tarin and to return tomorrow for the raid. With nothing else to do I quickly left the house and went in search of the guy whose fascination I held.

Chapter 12: Unexpected Meetings

I wandered through the village, unsure of where Tarin might be. I was lost in thought, my mind drifting to thoughts of Cami, wondering what kind of Wylder she might be. Who knows I thought, it’s not like I’m an expert on the subject. I came to a halt as I bumped into someone. I looked up to apologize and stopped, dumbstruck. “Gloria?” It was the best I could do, utter her name in shock.

 

A huge smile grew on her face quickly as she recognized me, “Eliza!” She wrapped me in a hug and squeezed with more strength then I thought she aught to have.

 

“What are you doing here?” She looked as I remembered her, lithe, tall, caramel colored skin. The only difference was she looked happy now.

 

“They rescued me,” She gave a flippant gesture to the community around her. “I’ve been here ever since.”

 

She released me, and I saw a blur of movement. My eyes couldn’t make it out, but my body felt the impact as I suddenly found myself looking up from the ground. Pain seared through me, and I flexed, making sure nothing was broken before looking up. Ugh, I thought. She was pretty I guess, medium height, and sandy blonde with jet black eyes. I could see the flames of jealousy in them.

 

I stood, looking angrily at the girl. Who the hell does she think she is? “This is here? The human thing Tarin is so enamored with?” She crinkled her nose in disgust. “Looks like a weak ass human to me.”

 

I felt the blood rush to my face as rage flooded through me. I don’t even remember tackling the girl to the ground, it just kind of happened. The next thing I remember I had tackled the poor girl to the ground and was throwing a flurry of punches at her face with ferocity that surprised even me. I felt a sharp pain and looked down to see a clawed hand attempting to pull me away from my victim. I saw the blood trickling down my arm where the talon-like nails dug into my arm. The pain drew me from my rage and I looked up into brown eyes, with flecks of green dancing merrily throughout them. I allowed myself to be pulled away, “Tarin.” I gasped as I sunk down away from my victim on my butt.

 

“I see you’ve met Rosalie.” He made a quick gesture towards the sandy blond I had moments before been pummeling.

 

“Yeah,” I shrugged as the adrenaline filled wave of energy began to fade, leaving me sullen and weak. “I dunno what came over me. I just kinda snapped.”

 

He shook his head, “It’s fine, Rosalie just has an attitude problem. Don’t you?” He turned his gaze to the bloodied girl who was picking herself up from the ground.

 

Her lip was busted, and a small trickle of blood ran from her nose. No doubt, she would be sporting numerous bruises by the end of the day. She snarled in my direction before looking back to Tarin. She attempted a half-assed smile, and gave a weak curtsey, “My Lord.” It sounded almost like a hiss as it left her lips. She retreated hastily towards a more crowded part of the town.

 

I raised a brow, “Why did she call you lord?”

 

He gave a small shrug, “My father is the leader, and it’s a courtesy. Some think I will replace him in time.”

 

“Why is your father the leader? I thought Bobby was.”

 

He gave a sympathetic shake of his head, “Bobby runs the day to day here, but my father is leader of the nine tribes. Some Wylder afflictions as your people call them, are more common than others.”

 

I gave him a confused expression as I attempted to staunch the flow of blood from my arm. He took my hand and led me down the road, to one of the larger, more impressive houses. “Come, let’s get that bandaged, sorry I clawed you, but you were really going at her.”

 

Despite the pain I smiled, surprised at my own angst at Rosalie’s verbal harassment. “It’s nothing.” I protested.

 

“Nonsense.” He led me into the house, which appeared empty, promptly sat me on a soft, if aged couch before rushing off for a first aid kit. I looked around, though the house was large, it appeared to be plainly furnished, nothing matched, it looked as though someone had collected what they needed from the Old World and threw it all together in a home, some of the pieces even looked handmade, like the etched coffee table in front of me.

 

Soon he returned, a small red box in his hands. He sat down beside me on the couch and smiled as he pulled out a few small bandages and peroxide. He placed my arm in his lap and poured the astringent on a small cotton swath. “This might hurt a bit.” He warned as he began to dab the blood up and clean the three horizontal scratches on my forearm.

 

“Like I was saying,” he began as he continued to clean the wound. “My father is head of the Delacouri. You people would call us Leopards I think.”

 

“So strange, that you can turn into a cat.” I murmured as he wrapped the bandage around my arm.

 

“No, not a cat.” He responded wryly as if insulted, “Much more than a mere cat.” He taped the bandage in place before smiling, “All done. There are five other tribes of,” His voice trailed off a moment. “Cats.” He finished with a slight chuckle. “Of course, I could name them all and the three other tribes, but its long and boring, as history tends to be. You will learn in time.”

 

I smiled, a bit of sadness behind it, “You know I never expected the Wylder to be the way you are.”

 

It was his turn to look sad, “Vicious monsters eh?” He asked.

 

I looked away, unable to look him in the eye. I knew it was true, we were taught to believe that from childhood, nothing but monsters. He wasn’t like that I thought as I let my gaze move to him. Nice, gentle, friendly, helpful, attractive. So many words I could use to describe him, and none of them were monstrous. His hand rested on mine as he inspected his work; I could feel the warmth. It felt safe.

 

“You’re blushing.”

 

I pulled my hand away, feeling the heat in my cheeks. I looked away. Ugh I thought, not now. “So Bobby says I’m to help with the convoy tomorrow. Will you be there?”

 

A slight nod, “You must be hungry, let’s go get you some food. Then I’ll show you to you room. The Palustri tribe has agreed to give you a place for now.”

 

I tried not to let the disappointment show. I wanted to stay here, with him. I would never admit it, but the urge was there. With a half-hearted smile, I rose and followed him into the evening.

Chapter 13: Into the Wylds

I awoke with a start, covered in a cold sweat. I couldn’t remember what I was dreaming about. I only had the lingering sense of dread. I dressed and joined those of the Palustri that were awake for breakfast in the common room. They had all been nice enough, welcoming, unobtrusive, and friendly. Jora, the eldest son of the aging leader of their tribe was tall, raven black hair with a sinister looking goatee. Despite his dark appearance, he was quite jovial. He was a funny guy, who liked to tell jokes and make others laugh. It was from him