Out Of Darkness (The Starborn Saga) Read online

  I’ll take a full belly any time I’m offered it. They are few and far between where I’m from.

  I make my way to the end of the hallway, open the double door and step out onto the balcony. As it closes behind me, I notice another figure lying down with his arms cradling his head as he stares up at the stars. It’s Aaron.

  I know he must have heard the door, but I have no desire to stay and talk. As I turn to leave, but his words stop me in my tracks.

  “I was an idiot, and I’m sorry,” he says. I turn back to look at him and he sits up to see me more clearly. “I was frustrated with the situation. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  I don’t say anything at first. I wasn’t expecting an apology.

  “You know it’s a beautiful night out here,” he says, looking up. “I shouldn’t be the only one enjoying the stars.” He pauses for a brief moment and looks back at me. “You shouldn’t leave.”

  Aaron’s been anything but a friend to me. Regardless, I’m here now, and leaving wouldn’t help anything. I walk to the middle of the balcony and sit about five feet away from him. I hook my arms around my knees as the night wind blows my hair.

  “You know, it’s hard to see the stars when you don’t look up,” he says.

  I’m not interested in the stars. I might have been before I saw him out here. I can feel him staring at me, but I don’t return it.

  “We got off on the wrong foot,” he says.

  “We didn’t really get off on any foot,” I snap. “You’ve barely spoken two words to me before now.”

  “I know,” he says. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

  “So have I.”

  “I’ve really tried to keep my gift a secret,” he continues. “Having people find out about it, especially Jeremiah, is the last thing I wanted to happen.”

  “So, why did you shoot lightning from your hands then?”

  “People were going to die,” he says. “At least, I thought they were. I saw you using your gift, but I didn’t know if it would be enough to stop them.”

  “Why were you stranded in the first place?” I ask, finally looking in his direction. I’m actually taken aback by the genuine smile he has on his face. I can’t help but notice his muscled arms as he leans his torso off the ground and props himself up on his elbows. I close my eyes briefly and shake my head. “Couldn’t you have blasted them away from you long before Connor and I found you?”

  He waits for a moment as if he’s thinking about the answer then says, “No.”

  I look at him with a questioning stare.

  “My gift isn’t what you or my brother think it is. It’s not quite that powerful.” He sits himself up and crosses his legs and I turn toward him now, more open for conversation.

  “But I know what I saw.”

  “You saw electricity,” he says. “You didn’t see me create it. My gift is that I can use electricity from another source. It’s like I can absorb it into myself and then use it as a weapon. Before the vehicles came in behind you, I had no electrical source. Just a gun.”

  It made sense. That must have been why all the batteries were dead in the vehicles.

  “Believe me,” he says, “I wish I could just create it. It would be a lot easier. That’s why we first lost communication with Salem. We were attacked by that same herd. It was a much larger herd than when you got there. I ended up having to use the power source from the vehicles that we had. I even used the power from our wristbands. It got a couple of us out, but it wasn’t enough. Eventually I was the only one left. I was able to hide from them for a couple of days, but I got lost in the woods. I stumbled upon the same herd and I knew I was done for. That’s when you showed up.”

  “What were you and your group doing out there anyway?” I ask.

  He looks from side to side, almost as if to make sure no one is listening and then closes his eyes. The one light that is on the balcony begins to flicker in and out until the bulb smashes. I let out a short scream, startled by the loud pop, followed by the tinkle of shattered glass falling to the balcony floor.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “My gift allows me to seek out electrical sources,” he says. “I wanted to make sure there wasn’t some kind of listening device up here.”

  “You’d be able to tell if they were listening in on us?”

  “Their devices use electricity, so yes. I wanted to check, because I’m about to tell you the truth.”

  I sit straighter and lean toward him to listen as his voice lowers.

  “Officially, we were looking for a part to a tractor,” he says. “We knew the area had abandoned farm lands, so it was a good reason to go that direction. But really, we were looking for a specific type of satellite dish.”

  “For what?”

  “Surveillance,” he says. “If I could get the right type of dish, we would be able to spot herds from miles away. And we could deal with it accordingly. It’s just the first step towards becoming free of Jeremiah and Screven.”

  Again with this? I have to keep myself from rolling my eyes.

  “Anyway,” he says, “I had done my research. I knew there would be a satellite receiver of this kind out there. I’m pretty sure we were close. Given one more day, I might have found it. But the greyskins got to us first.”

  “They always seem to be in the place you want to go most,” I say. There are a few moments of still silence between us.

  “It’s all kind of funny, don’t you think?” Aaron finally says.

  “What is?”

  “That you’re doing everything you possibly can to get protection provided by Screven, and everyone you’ve come across is doing everything they can to escape it.”

  “Not everybody,” I say, thinking of Connor. “But it does get annoying.”

  Aaron nods. “Yeah, I suppose it does.” He lets out a sigh and lays his back down to the balcony floor. “You can see even more stars without that light.”

  It’s an obvious invitation for me to lie down and look up, and at first, I don’t think I’ll do it. But then I realize that Aaron may be able to tell me more about my powers. With only a little hesitation, I lie on my back.

  Aaron is right about the stars. They look amazing tonight. They are beautiful when I watch them from my home in Springhill too, but I never get over it. I’m always in awe of how vast the universe is. I often wonder if there are other worlds out there with people like us. Do they have a constant fear of being eaten? Do they know the pain of loss like I do? Like so many people of this world?

  Aaron’s voice breaks into my thoughts.

  “What is it that drives you?” he asks. “Seems to me like the universe is working against you, but here you are, one night until your big meeting.”

  “It’s not the universe that’s against me, it’s the people of your colony. But I’d say it’s my brother and grandma that drive me. They’re all the family I have left. I need them to be protected.”

  “Your parents are gone too, huh?”

  “Yeah.” The images in my mind are still so vivid. I remember watching every bit of the executions that day. I had run from the clutches of my grandma and hid away in one of my favorite spots in clear view of the trenches. One-by-one the dropped to the dirt after being shot in the head. There were some who resisted, but they only wanted to cling to the few precious hours they had left. That day, the hours were not granted to them.

  “What if I told you there might be a better way to protect your family?” he says.

  “Is it something you can guarantee me right now? Is it something I can implement tomorrow?”

  This makes Aaron stutter for a second. “Well, not exactly…”

  “Then I don’t want to hear it. If you can tell me about a sure thing, then I’ll listen to you.”

  “There’s no such thing as a sure thing when it comes to protection from the herds,” Aaron says. We’re both sitting up now, and I can feel the heat of frustration growing.

  “What do you have in mind
then?” I know what he is referring to. I know he wants me to be on his side. I think back to the meeting I saw between Aaron and Heinrich.

  “There are others,” he says. Just the phrase he used in his meeting. Part of me wants to tell him that I overheard him; that I know he doesn’t trust Heinrich to take control.

  “People like you and me?” I ask.

  He nods slightly. “Yes. We’re called the Starborn.”

  “You come up with that yourself?” I ask.

  “No,” he says. “I don’t know how long that specific term has been around, but we have been called some variation of that for thousands of years.”

  Thousands of years?

  “I’m not really at liberty to say much about it right now, but I wish you’d meet with our leader.”

  “So, you have some sort of secret club?”

  “Sort of,” he says. “But it’s important, and we need all the help we can get.”

  This is when I stand. Aaron stands too. I’m sure he doesn’t know what I’m thinking, or maybe he does and he’s trying to play me somehow. With my family in mind, there’s no way I can join him against Jeremiah.

  “Listen,” he says. “I know you have to do what you have to do. Your family comes first. But could you promise me that when you’ve finished what you’re here to do that you’ll come back to Salem sometime? I want you to hear what my leader has to say.”

  It’s an odd request – one that I wasn’t expecting. I thought he would ask me to hold off on my meeting with Jeremiah so he could show me his plan. But he knows I’m not going to back down. And to be honest, I’m so intrigued by these new supernatural powers that I would do just about anything to learn more about them. How could I not meet with his leader? How could I not seek out answers for what has been happening to me?

  “It all depends,” I say. “I may travel back there, I may not.” He looks at me with his enticing blue stare and dark eyebrows. “Will your leader be able to tell me why I have these abilities? What it all means?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I’ll think about it,” I say. I turn and begin walking to the door.

  “Where are you going?” he asks.

  “Our meeting is early tomorrow. Jeremiah and I have a lot to discuss. I’d hate to sleep late and miss it.”

  Chapter Eight

  The dreams of that terrible day still haunt me. I know I’m just having a nightmare, but this knowledge isn’t enough to pull me from my restless slumber. After it initially happened, I would have this same dream every night. After some time, every week. Now I have it at least every month. Tonight is one of the nights.

  The most terrifying part about this nightmare is that when I’m having it, it’s as if I’m experiencing it for the first time again. I always feel like I can change the outcome. I feel like I can do something different that might save them. But this nightmare always ends the same. It always plays out exactly as it did in real life. That is what is so terrible about it. It’s a constant reminder of something that I can never change. It’s a dream that will never let me forget that my parents’ death was my fault.

  Springhill has few defenses. At this point, there are only about three thousand of us left. Our village has been the target of so many greyskin attacks that it’s difficult to keep up with them. But this is the largest by far. We have a wall, but it’s not enough to keep them out. Within the hour, it’s broken down. Howard told us that this wall would do it. This wall would keep them out for sure.

  Since that day, I have never had faith in walls. I now believe that if greyskins really want to get in, they will eventually. Nothing can curb their appetite.

  The first alarms ring out a few minutes before dawn. By then, the greyskins have already broken through. People have already been bitten.

  I jump out of my bed and look out the window of our house. It’s chaos in the streets. Gunfire, explosions, blades, blood. It’s all everywhere.

  My dad rushes into my room. Mom is behind him holding Jake by the hand. Dad hands me a shotgun.

  “We’ve got to get to the tree houses,” he says.

  I nod, knowing what this means. It means going to the place where the women and children always go when there’s an attack. The tree houses are dotted all around the woods of Springhill. They are places of temporary safety away from the reach of the greyskins.

  A sudden crash at our front door window tells us that it’s already too late to sneak out quietly. Despite my better judgment, I let out a scream. My knees and stomach feel weak at the sight of five or more rotting arms doing everything possible to get into our house.

  Dad runs to the front door and lets off three rounds through the shattered glass opening, blowing them away temporarily. He opens the door and fires at any more that are still flailing at our doorstep. He motions for us to follow him. Jake is crying, and I don’t know how Mom is keeping it all together.

  With Jake holding Mom’s hand, we follow Dad through the village toward the edge of the woods. Every now and again, Dad and I let off a round at an approaching greyskin. Some men are leading their families to the woods while others stay behind to defend against the onslaught of the hungry dead.

  The whole time, I can’t figure out why our village experiences so many attacks. It’s only been three months since our last one, although it was a much smaller herd that time.

  It’s difficult to be wary while trying to block the images from my eyes. Neighbors. Friends. I see so many fall to the unrelenting force of the undead. I almost vomit at the sight of an older lady whose right arm is missing. There are bite marks all up and down her side. If her wounds don’t kill her, she’ll be dead within hours anyway.

  Someone has released what little farm animals we have to try and help distract the greyskins from the people. It seems to only keep them busy for a few minutes. We follow my dad up the path through the woods. The closer tree houses are already filled to the brim with people. Some are even hanging onto the ladders, safely out of reach of the greyskins, but undeniably exposed. Even some of the men who usually stay behind to fight are huddled with their families. We keep moving past them and I can’t help but think of how my dad is going to want to stay behind and help once we are safe. I can’t let him this time.

  Squealing and shrieks of terrified victims rip through the air. Gunshots boom in every direction. And the unmistakable gargling growls of the greyskins surround us.

  Dad bends down and tears out a hatchet from the skull of one of the greyskins, knowing that ammunition is precious. One of the greyskins moves in on us from the left and dad hurries to stand between it and the rest of us. His first swing clips it in the jaw, but it still staggers forward. His next swing lands in the middle of its brain, silencing its famished moans.

  We keep moving.

  Dad doesn’t stop until he hears Grandma calling out to us from the top of one of the tree houses. He looks at the rest of us and grabs Jake to put him on the ladder. Jake starts to climb slowly as Grandma reaches her arms for him, encouraging him to move.

  I’m next.

  “You’re coming aren’t you, Dad?”

  “In a bit, sweetie. Go.”

  I swing the shotgun strap over my shoulder and begin to climb. When I get to the top, Grandma is holding a tearful Jake and rubbing his head. She reaches out a hand to me and squeezes.

  I see Mom kiss Dad. I know what this means.

  “No!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Dad, you’re coming up here!” It’s the largest herd any of us have ever seen around Springhill. There’s no way people should be on the ground fighting. At least, my dad shouldn’t be out there. He’s just going to die like the others.

  Mom starts to climb and Dad just looks up at us with water in his eyes. Checking his ammo, he begins to walk away.

  “No!” I scream out again, and Mom reaches out to me and tries to cradle my head, but I push her away. “How could you just let him go? You’re going to let him die?”

  “He’s going to help
the others, sweetie,” she says to me, trying her best to maintain composure.

  My tears are flowing freely, uncontrollably. I’m thirteen years old and not ready to lose my family to the ravenous dead. But I could never have been ready for today. No matter what age I was.

  “You can’t just let him die like this! We can fight too.” I hold up the shotgun.

  I look around the tree house and see a few others with guns. “You all can fight!” I say. One woman looks at me. She’s trembling with a shotgun in her hands. She wouldn’t be able to hold a gun straight, so she’s no use. I duck under the branches as I walk to her and snatch the shotgun out of her hands. Next to her foot is a box of shotgun shells. I grab a handful and stuff them into my pants pockets.

  “Mora, what are you doing?” Mom asks me.

  “I’m not afraid,” I say, wiping away more tears with my shoulder. With both guns slung over my shoulders, I make my way to the ladder to climb down. Grandma and Mom protest, and Mom even grabs my shoulders, digging her fingernails into them.

  “You will not go!” she says to me. “This isn’t like the other attacks. This herd is bigger.”

  I jerk my shoulders away from her and begin my descent. I don’t care what others have to say about it. Dad has prepared me for days like this. He’s taught me how to shoot. I know where to aim. I’m not going to let him die like everyone else. This is the biggest herd to attack Springhill in a long time. The others need more people to help fight.

  “Mora!” Mom screams.

  I ignore her.

  She calls out my name several more times, but I’m already on the ground and sprinting toward the fight.

  Smoke fills the air and it’s difficult to breathe at first. Three greyskins come at me to my right, but it only takes two shots to stop their movements.

  The heaviest action is at the front of the village where the broken wall is in pieces now. When I reach this point, I am stopped in my tracks. I’m too stunned to even notice the greyskins coming at me.

  Bodies lay everywhere. Mangled. Torn. Pieces of my friends. Screams rip through the air. It feels like the end of the world.

  I shake my head. The greyskins are almost on top of me before I think to shoot two rounds through them. The shots don’t hit their brains, but they are immobilized, which is all I need.