Clarity's Doom (Ancient Origins Book 1) Read online

  Clarity could see the youngsters were hybrid children. Smaller, their faces juvenile, stuffing themselves on the bird. Then something surprised her. A little one, younger than the others came forward. DaV-nin studied the child. The way the youngster moved, the way the older males shoved each other but never touched the smaller one. When one of the males became too wild, DaV-nin growled at him. The smaller hybrid reached up for DaV-nin.

  She’s female.

  Clarity was certain. So, some of the females were spared. DaV-nin’s perhaps. There was something different about the hybrid offspring. Her features were harder than the dead female they found. Her gaze was—evil. He swung the child into his arms. Try as she might, Clarity could see no mother and the thought gave her chills. DaV-nin reached to retrieve a piece of the downed bird and handed it to the female. Soon her mouth was covered in blood.

  “With enough explosives we can level the mountain,” Clarity said.

  “How long will it take?”

  “We’ll need the year. But we know where they are. We might come up with a better idea later. And did you see the fur the smallest was wearing? It’s not a simple loincloth; it’s a thick fur. I bet they don’t migrate. If this is where they hibernate, we need to start planning.”

  “We need to find the human children.”

  Clarity agreed.

  Chapter Ten

  A deep darkness rose in the sky and Doom gazed up. High above their heads was a murmuration, the dancing-type motion of an entire flock of large birds shifted on a whim. Clarity stood mouth gaping.

  “Look at the size of those birds. They’re as big as the one DaV-nin killed. Maybe it flew away from the flock,” she exclaimed. “They must be two feet high apiece. I’ve seen less impressive wingspans on gliders. For a second I thought a sinkhole was forming. Black as pitch, all of them. Massive bats?”

  The deep inky black was a startling contrast to the sky. When humans asked Doom what it was like to be colorblind, he in return asked them what it was like not to be. He saw what he saw. Who was to say their words were right and his colors were wrong. Nevertheless, the birds were impressive.

  “They’re herbivores mostly. They will eat small rodents, and we do watch the smaller children. I guess the hybrids watch them around their young, too.”

  A sharp squeal to his left and Doom grabbed Clarity to him and bounded for a high rock. The birds would leave them alone. What was coming might not. Clarity gasped when the prey came running into the area then slid to a stop on all fours thrusting dirt and sticks in its wake. A massive-type furred horse with claws ducked down then rose up on hind legs to sniff the air.

  “Doom?”

  “Shh.”

  Clarity screamed when a massive creature dubbed a hell pig raced through the bush to land on the furred beast. The horse clawed at the pig but the attempt was futile. Massive tusks gored the underbelly as the pig slaughtered the prey. Entrails slipped from a bloody cavity, steam rising. The slaughter was over quickly. Doom took Clarity’s hand and led her over the other side of the rocks. They scrambled down and though cautious, they moved at a clipped rate.

  They slowed once they put distance between them and the hell pig. At a clearing, Clarity stopped to catch her breath. The tree she leaned against dwarfed her. She started at a huge butterfly half her size. The winged creature fluttered near her curious, hovering, then floated away.

  Doom reached into a sack he brought and pulled out two hard tart apples. Clarity dropped to the ground and held hers in her lap. She had agreed to leave her purse behind, but he knew she wore the taser and mace in a smaller pouch around her waist tied by a leather rope. The pouch bulged and he wondered what else she couldn’t live without for their search. Her purse was safe enough; his men liked their balls where they were.

  Edge had been stupid enough to slide a cocky hand into a compartment on her purse when Clarity wasn’t looking. A snap sounded and the huge man danced around with something attached to his fingers. He ripped the device off and Clarity chuckled when she picked it up. She waggled it at Edge.

  “Mouse trap,” she commented. “Some hotels I ended up in were a little on the nasty side. Seems I can catch bigger rodents.”

  Edge wasn’t impressed, but refrained from touching her purse after that, they all did. Doom had only chuckled. The device would be handy super-sized.

  “Look,” she said rousing him from his thoughts, and gestured into the valley below them. A massive bear lumbered. “On my planet the polar bear has mixed with the brown bear, too. Survival, I guess. Holy hell, that bear’s huge. Our colder regions are warming. Icebergs are melting. Do you know if yours are?”

  “Icebergs? What’s an iceberg?”

  “A massive amount of ice not separated but all together. They can move.”

  “My father showed me once large blocks of ice. They always form in the winter. We have caves filled with ice, some near the ocean. Some are salty, some fresh.”

  “I wondered about that. Icebergs are miles high and long. They can sink ships.”

  “A ship is something very large you float on water with.”

  “Yes.”

  “Your humans, well the others, talk about a cruise with strange upright walking animals your children love. Human children are spoiled outrageously. Our children learn to survive.”

  “They aren’t yours.”

  “They are loved and treated as our own.”

  “Yet there are no grown humans in your village besides Heath and me.”

  “The bane of my existence. The sacrifice of our young adults makes us all bleed. Any child we have we covet. But the rules of the sacrifice are clear. The hybrids know of the offspring in every village. A father of another village offered his life in exchange for his Earth son’s life. They took not only the father but hunted the son. They lost both. Do we lose the one or the two? His wife is now without a husband and her son.”

  “What a sad horrible way to live.”

  “I thought so, too, but we were alive. Cultivating humans as one would wheat. You don’t mourn wheat. My body isn’t covered in tattoos of roots or dinosaurs. You are what living is, Clarity. I’m done simply surviving.”

  Doom sat beside her and took a healthy bite from the apple. After a few bites, he flung the remains of the fruit down near the bear. The bear was startled but was soon sniffing the air. It found the treat and wandered away.

  A lock of Clarity’s hair slipped over an eye and Doom lifted a finger to tuck the strand behind her ear. She let the apple fall to her side but pulled her knees up to her chest.

  “There is danger everywhere out there,” she said.

  “Yes. You also realize the dinosaurs know my scent and fear my people. At least you should. Even the mammoth mastodons keep their distance. My villagers are skilled hunters.”

  “But we were attacked.”

  Doom lifted an eyebrow. “You were attacked.”

  “Oh.” The realization dawned in her eyes.

  “The dinosaurs will learn in time to fear your scent—when you’re with me. I’m also a skilled hunter.”

  “I think maybe those children are, too. I want to get a closer look. Flight, the boy, said his father is a pilot and when I asked him if he knew what a gun was he pointed his fingers at me and went, boom gotcha with water. His arm is marked so I wonder. He’s young still. Even our world tries to shield our children from harsh realities until they learn on their own. To us, water guns are harmless. I think these wild children might be from my Earth. Heath knew of a cross bow, but he was adamant you killed animals with it for food. Only food. No sport hunting. That girl knew exactly how to kill and didn’t blink an eye. When my Earth humans are threatened we react, she must be from my world, her brother, too.”

  Doom thought they might be but said nothing. It had been a number of years since a child came through a sinkhole speaking of warrior fathers. At least two decades, maybe more. The years blurred after a while. Extra hunters would be a boon, even young ones. Clarity i
nsisted these bombs she spoke of could be tossed by a child.

  When the first spatter of rain struck him, Doom was surprised. The weather was always temperamental this time of year. Horrific thunderstorms blew in fast and breezed out as quick. This time of year the land was thirsty for water as life grew in droves.

  Clarity hated their rain. The thought was amusing. Why would anyone hate weather? It had no feelings. Nevertheless, she expressed loathing when the storm rumbled in. Gripping her hand he rose to his feet and began racing toward a shelter. Doom knew every inch of his area. The hybrids’ home was a surprise to him because he had never ventured near ‘their’ side. Learning they could read was a surprise, but Doom had never seen a written word before Clarity came. That the hybrids could read was frightening, their thought process was growing. The written signs he thought were marks began a few years back.

  Within a tangled mass of overgrown colossal roots were small shelters. The trees grew overtop the boulders. Clarity screamed when the ground heaved up as they passed a line of trees to get to the trees on boulders. Even the trees adapted. The roots of the other trees on the direct ground in this particular area separated. When the wind blew, the ground breathed as would a sleeping giant.

  Doom took her higher to the stable trunks, and they slipped through into shelter as the ground gave up its water supply to the sky. On hands and knees Clarity watched with fascination, peering out the small opening they squeezed through. She was breathing heavily and turned to gaze at him.

  “Does it snow up, too?”

  “Flakes of snow fly where the wind takes them. In a blizzard, does it seem you’re attacked by any one direction?”

  “Point taken.”

  Doom, who had been crouching, settled back against the hanging moss on the inside of the shelter. There were mounds of small sticks and dry vegetation surrounding them. The cave was dry, roots hung like tiny stalactites from the ceiling, curling their way round and over each other before pointing down. Clarity continued to peer outside and he knew she watched the breathing ground until she sneezed and coughed and sat beside him. She swiped at her face and Doom could see she had gotten a breath of rain. The moss door fell into place, casting much of the cave into darkness. From her pouch she pulled her flashlight and flicked it on, the cave lit instantly.

  From within, Clarity gathered dry kindling after sweeping a circular area clean. She dug out a small indentation in the ground with her hands and using her fire tube she sparked a flame. She called it a lighter. Truth be told, it was a magic light to hold in your hand. She informed him there was liquid inside the tube allowing it to flame when a spark was produced. The fire didn’t burn down but up. Another novelty of the mystic.

  The first time a human created matches with a substance called sulfur they melted to liquid and rolled the head of small sticks in, Doom was inclined to make them. A simple trick really, but the small shards of wood it was rolled on burned down to your hand. Useful nonetheless. Fire was a necessity of life. With the fire established, Clarity switched off her flashlight, storing it back in her pouch and cuddled up beside him. He draped his arm across her shoulders and leaned her into his chest. The high rise of her beautiful forehead drew him to kiss her. His hand cupped her cheek lifting her face to his.

  “Are we safe in here?” she asked.

  “Yes. The animals don’t like the storms and they dislike fire.”

  “The hybrids?”

  “The hybrids seem to loathe any uncertain weather. They adapt, they cope, but they appear unsettled in storms.”

  “That could be Neanderthal or dinosaur or both. It was hard for humans to go too far in dangerous weather. Still is but humans are too impatient. We’d rather risk injury, get to where we’re going right this very second, than sit and wait it out. Can’t tell you how many rainstorms I’ve driven through and could hardly see out the windshield. Or blizzards.”

  “Stupidity or fearlessness?” he was teasing and she grinned.

  “Both.”

  Doom sighed when he saw the sky darken further when the long vines blew up then settled, and he took a quick peek. Few rocks were in the cave and he maneuvered a few onto the vines to keep them down. Only a few strands blew in to brighten the fire with life-giving air. He felt a tug on his hand and took the piece of jerky Clarity handed him from a package she had brought, a treasure from her purse. The meat was soft and different from what he was used to.

  “Is this meat?”

  “Beef.”

  “Beef from a…?”

  “Cow.” She held up the package for him to see. The animal was unlike anything he’d ever seen. They wouldn’t last long on his planet. He gripped the meat and tugged a bite into his mouth, chewing with contentment.

  “Cow is good. Too bad they don’t fall into sinkholes.”

  “As a matter of fact our planet has been losing animals. That only started recently. Normally it’s people. Maybe we should keep watch. After all, if Bubble-gum came through, you never know what else might follow.”

  “True.”

  Clarity handed him another piece of meat and stored the rest. “We may need this for breakfast. I don’t think we’re going anywhere for now.”

  “We’ll be fine. I always have a backup in case.”

  Doom had other foods for them if they were trapped for a little while. It was best to pack a satchel any time he went anywhere. Some humans were hungry when found, some thirsty. He was hoping to persuade the children with food. Clarity nudged him and handed him a brown piece of something. Doom scowled at it. The substance was chunky and unusual.

  “Looks like shit.”

  “It’s a part of a chocolate bar with nuts. Try a taste. And ouch, if you’re pooping things like this you may want to watch your diet.” She snickered and took a bite of the piece she had.

  With a tentative gesture Doom lifted the suspicious hunk to his lips. He knew she wouldn’t give him something inedible. After his first bite, he was hooked.

  “How can this small block of food taste almost as good as you, Clarity?”

  “That was incredibly smart.” She chuckled.

  His saliva glands went into overdrive. Doom closed his mouth and after the food disappeared down his throat the taste lingered. Now he understood why Muffin adored her. He opened his eyes to Clarity’s smiling face. Her hair was in wisps and Doom tucked a strand behind a perfect ear. Humans were dainty compared to his village lot. Fine bones, slender and graceful at one time seemed an annoyance. The work they did was less, the loads they carried smaller.

  In time, Doom came to realize they made up for physical failings in emotion and intelligence. They loved harder; their words were filled with passion. Their laughter came easy. The tears they cried from loss were many. Something occurred to Doom.

  “Why don’t you cry?”

  “Why should I?” she sounded perplexed.

  “No I don’t mean at this very moment. I mean when things are frightening or you’re upset, you don’t cry.”

  “I learned not to at a young age. I was surrounded by drama and watched and learned after a while people stop listening if you cry at everything. If you cry when you’re hurt, such as a broken bone, then as much as when you stub a toe, how do people know when to believe there is a real problem?”

  “Either way you are hurt. Shouldn’t that be what matters?”

  “I suppose for me it’s the equivalent of crying wolf. When I cry, I want who I’m with to know I mean it. I need help, or the hurt is too much or the emotion too much.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  Doom remembered his tears in front of her. He wondered if she thought him weak. The way she gazed at him, full of sweet tenderness, made him believe otherwise. She melted his heart with a glance. When she lifted her hand to cup the side of his face, he was lost in her eyes. He might not see color the way she did, but he saw desire and want.

  For me. Someone wants me.

  The explosion of emotion in his chest brought fire to hi
s loins. The raw physical compulsion to be within her was overwhelming and intense. Exquisite wonder lust wreaked havoc and for a moment, a single moment, he wanted to run away, with her. Doom had never run from anything, masked perhaps, ignored, but not run.

  “You deserve better than me,” Doom said.

  Clarity leaned to kiss his lips in a manner so sensual he thought his seed would explode. Her breath seared his skin and he made a fist as he wrapped an arm around her back pulling her closer. Shoulders shaking, his mouth was on fire with a teasing tiny taste of her tongue. She clung tighter, both killing and reviving her victim. When she released her emotional torture, Doom lifted his fingers to his lips.

  “They are still there,” was said with wonder in his heart. “You captured my essence where I still burn for you. Am I in there, in your heart with you? Because I’m not here anymore. My breath is yours to have or stop. My heart beats for you. But if I am in you, how can you be inside me? Tremors rock my core. Blood pulses in my veins taking your taste to each fingertip. Are you my blood, are you my flesh?”

  “You say I deserve better than you. If I am in you, would you want me to go to another?”

  Doom felt the rage flood his face. The burning of heated blood didn’t creep silently over him. It crashed through him. Anger that another would think to touch someone so obviously made for him sent his insides to war. A revelation washed through him.

  I can war.

  “I’ll take that particular look as a no,” she said and sounded cheeky.

  “A ‘no’?” His words were soft and volatile. “Death would be sweet humanity to any who as much as glance your way.”

  “Doom, I think I understand this is your first experience with love, but get a grip.”

  “I plan on it.”

  He pounced. Clarity squealed when her clothes were removed with lightning speed. She was on her back and panting as he rose over her. Her gaze was of mixed emotions which added heat to Doom’s action. Trembling, he lifted a finger to again push a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.