October 2163, Exilon 5
Stephen pushed open the hatch that covered one of many tunnel entrances leading out to the stony wasteland beyond New London. The dirty metal hatch blended in with the landscape, hidden behind a cluster of large rocks.
Stephen stayed behind a rock and watched both the military in the distance and his intended target. The wolf headed towards the bait Stephen had left to lure it away from the military.
As he stood up his foot scuffed some loose rubble. The wolf stopped and raised its head. Stephen could smell its fear. But to his relief it moved again towards the trap. Serena shifted closer to Stephen’s side. She growled low as her hunting instincts kicked in.
The military waited in the dark expanse. Ever since Anton had returned with the bomb that had destroyed part of their tunnels, the military had increased their patrols. Stephen could make their shapes out as they leaned against their vehicles. Their aura colours of greens and blues matched their relaxed attitude.
‘They don’t know we’re here,’ he said to Serena. ‘We have time.’
Serena looked at him, then at the military. ‘Can you hear them this far out?’
His eyes snapped back to the young wolf inching closer to the bait. It sniffed at the edge of the rocks. Its immaturity worked to Stephen’s advantage. The adult biodome animals would never get his close to one of his traps.
The military said something that caught Stephen’s attention. ‘We’ll have to be quick. They’re thinking about making a move.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I can hear them. They’ve spotted the wolf.’
Serena shook her head. ‘All I hear is a collective mumbling. Nothing they say is clear.’
Her inability to hear well troubled him. All Indigenes had the ability. He switched his focus back to the wolf again. Pierre needed this kill.
Stephen ran the minute the wolf began tugging at the piece of meat staked into the ground. Before the wolf could turn its head, Stephen stood before it, his eyes focused on the blood dripping from the animal’s mouth. The wolf shifted towards him just as an out-of-breath Serena caught up with him. He could hear her erratic thoughts that pulled her mind in different directions.
‘Are you okay?’ He kept his eyes on the cagey wolf.
‘I’m fine. Why?’ She had adopted the stance that all Indigenes did when they hunted—one leg pitched in front of the other, head straining forward, back low, arms poised to snatch.
The young wolf growled.
‘Are you worried about something?’ He adopted the same pose, crouching low until his fingertips almost touched the ground.
She shook her head and he straightened up, sensing her worry. The air displaced around him as the wolf lunged at Serena.
The force of the animal knocked her to the ground. Serena screamed. The animal pinned her shoulder down. It snarled through a mouthful of Indigene flesh.
‘Come on, you’re stronger than it,’ said Stephen. ‘You can take it.’
She screamed again. ‘Get it off me.’
He could watch no longer than a few seconds. The muscles in his arms strained as he lifted the wolf up by the scruff and snapped its neck. Stephen unclamped its mouth from Serena’s shoulder and she fell back to the ground. The glistening teeth marks on her shoulder instantly healed.
He threw the dead wolf over his shoulder just as Serena scrambled to her feet. ‘I can’t believe that just happened.’ She grinned and wiped the dirt from her dark hunting clothes.
‘Come on. We have to go.’
Serena looked around her. ‘How far away are they?’
‘Not far. They’re getting into their vehicles.’
He took off, running as fast as he could with Serena close on his heels.
‘Can you make it with that thing on your shoulder?’ she asked, panting.
‘I think so.’ His legs strained with the extra weight. ‘Run up ahead and open the entrance. I won’t have time to stop.’
Serena raced towards the cluster of rocks and the hidden entrance. She opened the metal hatch and stood back.
When he was within range he threw the wolf through the hatch. His momentum carried him over a large rock and through the opening, to land on his kill. Serena pulled the hatch closed, securing it with metal bars on the inside.
‘That was close.’
Stephen brushed himself down and hauled the wolf with its mouth frozen mid-snarl through the tunnel. Serena followed.
‘What happened back there?’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The scream. It came from you.’
‘No, it didn’t.’
‘When the wolf lunged, you screamed.’
‘It took me by surprise,’ she said.
The entrance to their district loomed, constructed from the impervious omega rock. Genetic scanners above the door verified them as Indigenes. The door slid back into the rock face.
‘Can you manage from here?’ Serena said once the door had closed behind them. She removed her air filtration device.
Stephen nodded, doing the same.
‘Then I’ll talk to you later.’
She moved through the tunnel with poise and grace, then vanished from sight at the first bend. He dragged the dead animal through the cold, low-lit tunnel. The smell of fresh blood made his stomach rumble, but it wouldn’t stay fresh for long. He needed Gabriel’s help, the visiting elder from District Eight.
He sensed him close by and found him in a tunnel near to the core of District Three. Gabriel’s wife, Margaux, was with him along with three males. Margaux’s wild eyes searched the space. Stephen had sensed an unfocused mind from her when she’d arrived. Gabriel argued with one of the males. When he heard Pierre’s name mentioned, his anger flared.
‘He’s not well,’ said Gabriel. ‘He needs time to come to terms with Elise’s death. Have some patience, please.’
‘You’re not the elder here, and tell your wife to keep her nose out of my thoughts.’ The male rubbed his temple. ‘I can feel her poking around. It gives me the creeps.’
Margaux concentrated on the male before turning her attention to his friends. They shook their heads as if trying to dislodge something. Margaux smirked.
‘Margaux, please.’ Gabriel touched her arm and she dropped her intense gaze.
‘You’re no fun,’ she said.
‘I have every right to be here,’ said Gabriel to the male. ‘Until Pierre is well enough to govern this district again, I am the presiding elder. Is that clear?’
‘You and your crazy wife are not welcome here.’ The male walked away and his friends fell into line behind him.
Gabriel ground his fist into his eyes. It was not the first confrontation to happen since his arrival. Three short weeks had passed since Elise, Pierre’s wife, had been killed by Anton after he’d returned from Earth with an additional personality he still harboured. Following Elise’s funeral, Pierre had locked himself in Council Chambers and had refused to come out. Uncertain whispers of what would happen accompanied the daily confusion in the district.
Other districts had been asked to help bring order to District Three. When Gabriel and Margaux, the elders from District Eight, showed up, Gabriel came with a message from the other districts: “We will not help. Pierre has betrayed our trust by keeping our true origin a secret.”
Pierre’s actions had harmed their democratic society. Stephen had no idea how to help Gabriel unite a district that was falling apart without Pierre.
He dropped the wolf at Gabriel’s feet.
‘I see you managed to get one?’ said Gabriel.
‘Wasn’t easy. The military are watching.’
The visiting elder, taller than Stephen and of a sturdier build, nodded. At the age of one hundred and seven, Gabriel was thirteen years younger than Pierre. It was hoped his more youthful energy would help calm the unrest in the district.
Margaux clucked her tongue. ‘Pierre doesn’t need that.’ She kicked the dead wolf. ‘He needs something else.’
‘What does she mean?’ Stephen still couldn’t figure Margaux out.
Gabriel half smiled. ‘Just ignore her. I love my wife, but she can be a little eccentric. The Indigenes find her too difficult to handle and the Evolvers stay away. They’re well used to her in our district, but here, they haven’t taken to her.’
Stephen nodded to the dead animal. ‘Can you bring some to Pierre?’
Gabriel hoisted the animal onto his shoulder. ‘I’ll pick the choicest cuts. And if he doesn’t eat it, I’ll ram it down his scrawny throat. Then I’ll kick him out of his Chambers and take up residence there, so I can have some peace.’
Stephen smiled. He confessed to liking Gabriel’s way with words. Gabriel had always seemed so unlike the other Indigenes. But with context, Stephen now understood the difference: Gabriel spoke like a human.
‘Just one other thing,’ said Stephen.
Gabriel looked back.
‘It’s about Serena.’
Margaux poked and prodded his thoughts—just like Elise used to do.
‘The female from District Eight?’
Stephen nodded. ‘I need you to meet her.’
‘I’ve tried but she’s always too busy to meet. Maybe when things calm down.’
‘No, you must meet her soon.’
Gabriel frowned. ‘What’s the rush?’
‘I’m worried Serena isn’t who she says she is.’