Defender (New World Book 7) Page 4

  Macey plastered on her best, everything-is-fine gaze, and brought the girls milk. It would only be a matter of time before all was right with the world. They needed patience. Patience was something Macey had a great deal of.

  * * * *

  Taz had seen the images of Earth on the monitor for days on the shuttle but part of him hadn’t believed what he was seeing. When he ran out of forest, he was startled when he came to a town. A black substance was hard under his unshielded feet and he paused for a second to bend down and touch it. He wrinkled his nose wondering why anyone would put hard crap over natural beautiful earth; as strange as Earth’s ground, it was better than the black mess. Did this planet need coverings for everything?

  Who clothed a planet?

  A cold wind slipped across his chest as he stood. The area was quiet, and he moved as stealthily as possible. Parts near homes were covered in the black substance in lines where vehicles sat or moved; a strange line was whitish-grey adjoining the black to the green grass. Taz knew what grass was, they had it on his planet. It wasn’t the same lush hunter green he was used to. The grass was harder and didn’t smell as sweet. It was also sectioned oddly, squares, rectangles. Most of it was the same length.

  Does Earth grass only reach a certain height?

  Little things he took for granted on his planet made this planet distasteful. Glass covered windows but Taz instinctively knew these windows wouldn’t give way if pushed, they would smash into pieces. They looked odd. He bent to examine a small piece of the glass substance in pieces on the ground, the piece crumbled in his hand proving his theory right. Smoke spiraled from a few square objects on roofs. Humans purposely polluted their air. It made no sense.

  The planet changed while he ran during his flight from the couple. Not all of Earth was the same as was his planet. The trees changed in sizes, the air temperature differed. It was as though there were planets on the planet, and each one had its own look. At home everything was geared to a warrior’s needs, everything was the same everywhere, the trees and terrain; no matter where Taz went on his planet he was comfortable. Earth didn’t play favorites. Taz wondered if the humans chose the areas they were most comfortable in.

  His gaze fled everywhere, trying to absorb everything at once. Humans lived separately, not in a colony. There was no safety in the concept. Their homes were ugly and made out of strange substances. Everything was hard to the touch. Taz gripped a small piece of the siding of a domicile, the brick crumpled in his grasp. The shelters were piddly mockeries of what a real shelter should be.

  Taz ducked when he saw humans. A male walked with his female, and two offspring, a boy and a girl along the whitish-grey strip of hard surface. The humans—male, female and their offspring—wore various forms of clothing. The items were both similar and not, to the humans he first encountered. The male wore a shirt with little sleeves, the female long sleeves. Something nagged Taz’s memory. How did anyone know the female belonged to the male? Something was missing.

  Another couple traversed the side walk way that appeared designed for such a purpose. A designated walking area? Humans were told where to walk? What dictatorship was this? The males wore shirts in various forms, there were things covering their feet. He thought Krish said the odd objects were called shoes. Taz needed shoes to fit in, he needed a shirt too.

  It appeared most humans congregated at the front of homes and so he slipped behind the numerous buildings. At one home, Taz pushed in the back door. The door was pulled from its hinges. Taz’s shield went up in the confined space as he stepped inside. A yappy ball of fur began making a horrible racket. Taz sniffed the air. The yappy thing was female and not much larger than his hand when unshielded. A single blow would kill it. The creature was harmless and useless; Taz wondered why the humans here wanted it. Taz growled at the creature and she ran away to hide under odd looking furniture leaving a trail of piss behind. She remained under the stuffed brown blob of material whining.

  The room he was in crunched under his feet, tiles busting from his weight. He dropped his shield sensing no danger. Many odd devices adorned the room. There were small bottles on the counter in a round device. Taz picked one up and opened it reading the label.

  “Pepper.”

  Taz was aware humans and Tonans spoke the same language but the word was foreign. Taz sniffed the contents and sneezed. He dropped the bottle, it bounced; he crushed the offending object under his foot.

  Their alarm devices and weapons are crude.

  There were many odd little doors on the walls in the room that appeared to be a sort of eating space. Taz opened one; by accident, he pulled the door off the hinges. He dropped it. Plates were stacked on top of each other.

  “They need to stack plates?”

  At home he returned the dishes he used to the replicator. Warriors didn’t do dishes. Or wash glasses. As he walked through the many rooms he noted different doors. Too many places to hide. A larger door led to a room where the inhabitants obviously slept. Inside the bed chamber were a set of double doors.

  “It’s a fucking labyrinth in here.”

  He opened the doors and blinked. Rows of pants, shirts and shoes were stacked or hung neatly.

  “How many people live here? A hundred? How much clothes does a human need? They’re in for a huge awakening on my planet.”

  All Tonan warriors wore were flexible grey pants. They didn’t need shirts or shoes. The females would be lucky to have clothing on his planet; the males wouldn’t need any if they were dead. Taz picked up a pair of black boots and scowled. Castian warrior colors. The pink shoes he picked up next seemed interesting. He went to sit on the bed. It was uncomfortable and his ass sunk half way to the floor. He laid a shoe beside him and tried to get the other on his foot. The tip was pointy and the heel was two inches high.

  Interesting choice of weapon.

  Taz preferred his claws. Taz groaned as he tried to stuff his huge foot into the narrow heeled pink shoe. He wondered why the material wouldn’t give to accommodate him.

  “Damn, even their material is shitty. Yield to me, you damn thing.”

  He pushed and shoved. It wasn’t happening. The material split down the middle. This way he could get most of the front of his foot in but his heel hung out the back. He smiled, until he stood and his arms pin wheeled as he fell over.

  Damn.

  Growling Taz ripped the shoe off and went over and picked up the black boots. He was able to get his bare feet inside the hard material but he had to curl his toes. The feel was uncomfortable and pinched making his shield twitch. He stood up and clomped around the room. His actions were awkward. He caught a glimpse of himself in a reflector. He looked ridiculous; he could hear the howling laugh of the other Tonans in his mind.

  “Fuck you, Krish. Now I know why you sent me here. Very funny.”

  Taz dropped onto the bed and threw the boots missile-style, embedding them in the nearest wall. Concentrating, he covered his feet with his shield minus the claws, half his skin showed but it was better than nothing. He walked back to the closet and pulled out a grey shirt. He yanked and pulled trying to get his head through the small hole. He managed to drag the material over then choked until he ripped it off.

  “Fucking pin-head human.”

  He reached for another grey shirt and studied it. Taz felt a little stupid when he noted three holes. He stuck his arms through the smaller holes and his head through the larger one. Next he strolled to the cabinet with drawers. Small pants were in one. He held up a grey pair.

  “There’s a hole in these,” he said and stuck his finger through the hole. He gazed at his finger for a moment then wiggled it. He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, okay I get it.”

  He tossed the briefs back in and opened another drawer. Long tube things were in this one. Taz held up a tube at each end. He blinked in amazement.

  “Fuck, this dude is hung. Who the hell needs a compartment full of cock warmers?”

  He dropped the sock and went ba
ck to the closet. A pair of grey slacks caught his eye. They were tight but he fit them over his skin-tight grey pants. He went back to the full-length mirror and gazed at his appearance.

  “Krish is right about one thing. You’re an ugly fuck.”

  There were mirrors on his planet but normally Taz avoided them. He hated his hair color, eye color; he pretty much hated everything about him. Except for the fact he was bigger than Krish. Taz was well over six feet, many inches over and he smiled at his reflection knowing Krish hated him because of his height. His chest was confined in the tight material, one good flex and it would rip. He was a powerfully built warrior, and that was it. He grew up being called ugly and worthless his entire life. He knew he wasn’t worthless but ugly was a different matter altogether. There were no females to judge him; he was certain they’d think he was horrible, so it didn’t matter. Not being accepted by anyone was something he learned to deal with.

  “Honey, are you home? Diddles, why are you under there? Oh, crap, Diddles, you diddled again? Shit, you’re a pisser. What scared you this time, you mangy mutt? A leaf get too close to the fucking house? I swear one day I’m going to shove the end of a Swiffer up your ass and use you to dust with.”

  It was a male’s voice coming from downstairs. From his tone it was obvious the male had no use for the furry creature. Perhaps it was a female thing.

  “Well, holy fuck, what the hell happened to the floor?” The man yelled.

  Taz tensed and ran to the window. A transportation device was in the driveway. He raced down the hall to a back room and jumped out the window after sliding it open. His shield was protesting but Taz couldn’t risk changing. Once out of sight, he slowed his pace and headed to a road. The wind was picking up and Taz felt the cold spatter of something on his arm. It was raining, then pouring. The clothes he went to the trouble of acquiring were saturated in seconds and hung on him restricting his movements. Taz didn’t know whether to groan or growl.

  “Fuck this shit.”

  Taz ripped the clothing off, dropping the shirt and pants to languish in a puddle. Lightning streaked across the dark sky. A blast of wind would have knocked Taz over if his claws hadn’t embedded into the ground instantly—the force was that strong. A funnel was spinning in the grey distance.

  “Tornado. Awesome.”

  Taz stood watching the funnel as it twisted and weaved. His insides twitched with excitement. He was given images of tornadoes and how perfect they looked. The scientists manipulated Earth’s atmosphere with Mother Nature’s own weapons. This was Taz’s first disaster. Rain spattered down his face soaking his hair. Dark grey clouds rolled overhead turning the day to night. The cars on the road began sliding, horns honking. Chaos ensued. Taz had never witnessed a car crash. Vehicles tumbled and rolled as the wind became merciless, the pounding destruction was furious. Taz ducked as a truck flew over his head. His shield came up. No one was paying him any attention. The humans were focused on staying alive. Taz was impressed with the scientists’ ability to manipulate the surroundings so effectively. His father would have been impressed—with the science aspect.

  The vehicles crumpled, some were crushed which surprised Taz, he thought the humans would be safe in the transportation devices. He was wrong, the large objects aided in their demise. Windows were shattered—he was right, Earth glass busted on everything. A male, full grown was sent flying out a side window of his small car on impact with a truck. His body bounced when it hit the pavement. He left a trail of blood as he skidded into another car and was crushed between yet another sliding vehicle.

  “Bet that hurt,” Taz muttered.

  A huge long truck he noticed was sliding along the highway almost sideways, smashing into other vehicles. The noise of the tires was a squealing indication of imminent death to those in its wake. Humans were screaming in terror, fleeing from their trapped cars. Torrential rain pounded down adding to the chaos—or it was the cause. A woman’s terrified howls could be heard above the rest. When Taz spied her, the woman was pointing at something as she stumbled to her feet. Taz saw in the distance a female child of no more than three, standing motionless. Somehow the child had been separated from her mother. The transport was gradually tipping onto its side, the child in its path.

  Children were still a novelty and this was the smallest Earth female he had seen to date. His mind warred. She will be killed. Tonans wanted females. He wasn’t to interfere. She would be killed. He wasn’t to interfere. She was so tiny and vulnerable. If he were Krish he would enjoy watching the child die and joke about the mess as she splattered. Taz wasn’t Krish.

  Taz was in motion. The command not to interfere rang out in his thoughts, but the child was female. His mission was to ascertain the extent of the damage caused to Earth by the Tonan satellite. Taz wondered if the scientists knew the extent of the damage his race was inflicting. Everywhere on Earth was suffering. Not to a great extent, but enough for the humans to believe the Tonan lie that the planet was dying.

  Earth would calm after the choice humans were transported to another planet where the Tonans could harvest the females and kill the males. In a century, the Tonans could return to Earth and harvest more females.

  The screaming woman and the transport captured his attention. He was faced with a tiny dilemma. If Taz didn’t interfere, the little human female child dilemma would die. Human females were valuable. Full grown, the child could bring a Castain warrior to his knees.

  Shielded, Taz moved too fast for the humans to see him. The transport squealed as the wheels skidded along the pavement. The truck was almost on its side. Taz grabbed the child, dropping his shield, knowing if any human watched they would rather film the event than interfere, that was explicit on the monitor in the shuttle—recording devices were in excess. The girl wrapped her arms around his neck as Taz spun under the truck last second. The transport smashed onto the highway and kept its momentum, sparks flying in its wake.

  There were no other vehicles behind him, and Taz noted his shield was up. There had never been more times than now that his shield developed a mind of its own. He suspected the child had something to do with what he experienced. The human’s little face was warm buried in his throat, his shield detected no hurts. She was weightless. The threat had passed and he lowered his shield. Taz set the girl on her feet. She tucked her thumb in her mouth and gazed up at him.

  Fuck this thing is tiny.

  It was hard to imagine her growing up to be used as a weapon. Thankfully, the Tonans would be long gone before she was grown. Taz glanced around. He heard a woman screaming, he peeked around the jumbled mess of cars, motorcycles and debris; it was the female he had seen. He exhaled the breath he was holding. Taz picked the girl up and climbed onto a settled truck. He sat the child down.

  “When you see your mother, call to her. Do not stand up because if you fall on your head I’ll be ticked, kid. Understand?”

  She offered him a lopsided grin, removed her thumb from her mouth and kissed his cheek. Taz was startled. He hadn’t felt a female’s lips on him since his mother kissed him for the last time. The feeling was unnerving. Protective paternal bells and whistles were raging in his shield. The urge to shield her and return her to her mother was strong.

  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 ar
ms 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.