Out Of Darkness (The Starborn Saga) Read online

  Another screw pops off the latch which means the only thing keeping them away from me is the final screw.

  I look down at the shotgun in my hands and notice that I’ve only got one shell left. Now I’m forced between taking one last shot at the greyskins when they break through, or shoot myself before they can get to me.

  I shake my head and close my eyes. There’s no way I can do that. There’s no way I can die by my own hand.

  A few more seconds and that door will come down. I can see the faces of the greyskins now. I can see their hunger.

  I walk back to the door and they growl louder at my tempting bloody leg. I aim the barrel of the shotgun through the small opening and let off my final round. I probably just bought myself twenty extra seconds at the most. I move back to the edge of the building, searching in every direction to see if there is some place I can climb or jump. The other buildings are too far apart for me to simply hop to the next one. The cranes are far too tall for me to reach. Jumping to the ground would end my life even if there weren’t greyskins down there reaching for me.

  Tears streak down my face as I fall to my knees and drop the gun in front of me. I don’t know why, but in my desperation I reach out to the cranes above me. I actually feel like if I can just think hard enough, I might be able to reach them. I don’t know why. Maybe I’m delirious from loss of blood, maybe it’s utter desperation, but I now have both hands out, almost begging for them to move toward me.

  And they do.

  Or maybe I want them to move so badly that I think I saw them move. I reach up my hands again, this time I pull my fingers toward my chest, and this time I know they are moving. I’m shocked and overwhelmed by what I see, but I have no time to process it.

  The greyskins are back at the door. I have no idea why or how the cranes are moving, but I keep using my hands to pull the metal toward me.

  The door breaks open behind me, but I refuse to look, placing all of my concentration into pulling down the crane with this unseen force.

  The greyskins are still running toward me when the crane comes crashing down. I jump out of the way in the last second as the crane buries itself in the middle of the roof.

  When I look up, I can see that it extends away from the building, but not to the ground as I had hoped because it seems to have snapped in the middle with the crash. I don’t have time to think, so I limp as quickly as possible to the crane and start to climb out past the building. I don’t know how secure it is, but it seems sturdy enough. The greyskins below me are gathering more ferocity, and the ones that weren’t crushed on the roof, attempt to climb out toward me.

  Greyskins are useless climbers. One by one they lose their balance and fall on top of the other greyskins at the base of the building.

  There are more cranes. I look at my hands and can’t help but wonder if I can do such a thing again. There’s no harm in trying.

  I reach up with my fingers stretched out, focusing on another crane until it too comes crashing down. This one crashes into the side of the building and I nearly lose my balance from the rumble. The other crane is still too far away for me to climb down.

  I can’t believe or understand what is happening to me. I’ve never been able to do these kinds of things before. I never knew that this was even possible. But I don’t have time to think about it, I’ve got to use it. I reach my hands out again and desperately hope this next crane crashes close enough for me to climb. It too slams into the side of the building, but I’ll have to jump to reach it.

  I scoot to the edge of the long metal arm, knowing one bad move will land me in a swarm of famished human-eaters. I have to close my eyes and tell myself that I can do it. I’ll have to latch on from a ten-foot drop at least. When I open my eyes I finally feel the courage to move.

  I drop.

  I’m scrambling to find a hold, and my hands finally grip a metal bar and my body swings toward it. With my legs, I straddle metal, trying to stay firmly in place. The greyskins below are desperate for me now.

  I look behind me and see that all I have to do is walk or crawl my way down until I can reach the ground. Slowly, I make my way, but the greyskins are following my movements. If I crawl to the ground, they’ll be there to meet me. But if I could move these cranes before, why can’t I do it again?

  About midway down, I’ve got to take a rest. My heart is pounding and that isn’t good for my leg that is bleeding freely now. My head feels light and an overwhelming volume of grunts all around me is deafening and sickening at the same time. But I know I’ve got to keep moving. I’ve gotten this far. I can make it out if I just concentrate.

  I focus my attention on the first crane I had crawled out on. I reach out my hands again and it begins to shift away from the building. With all my strength, I try to make the crane move past the one I’m on, but it is too much for me. The top crane falls steadily until it slams into mine, juggling me into a free fall. My heart is in my throat as I scream toward the ground. I just know I’m going to slam into the crowd of greyskins, but the crane catches the side of the building and I slam into it, which launches me forward.

  I can’t help but squeeze my eyes shut to brace for the impact, and the pain that slams through my body takes me to the brink of unconsciousness. My face scrapes the ground as I land and skid across the asphalt. Warm blood trickles around my burning cheeks and I might have twisted my ankle. But no greyskins are eating me. When I look up, I see that the crane has smashed most of them, but the ones that weren’t killed are staggering toward me.

  I’ve got to move. I turn my head just in time to see a cloud of dust in the distance.

  “Help,” the words pass my lips in a whisper.

  I pull myself off the ground and try to run in the direction of the dust. Looking behind me there are at least five greyskins on my tail, and one of them has recently died, meaning it is fast.

  I keep running. The dust settles and I can tell it’s a vehicle, a truck. Someone’s getting out of it. A man. I run to the truck, praying he doesn’t think I’m one of the greyskins. I wave my arms.

  “I’m not one of them! I’m not one of them!”

  He pulls out a rifle and aims it at me. I have no idea what he’s planning, but I keep running.

  The next sound is a bullet whizzing past my head. Then another and another. Is he shooting at me?

  A quick look behind me shows that this guy is an excellent marksman because three of the greyskins are down. My ankle and cut leg hurt so badly, it’s difficult for me to move fast enough.

  Another bullet, another greyskin goes down. But the fast one is gaining on me. I hear another shot, but this one hits the greyskin’s chest. No good. I should be watching where I’m running instead of glancing behind me. My bum ankle gives out and I tumble to the ground. Another loud shot, and the greyskin is hit in the neck. Still no good. It’s coming up on me. No more shots. The guy must be reloading. I reach for my knife and try to stand, but the greyskin’s head cracks open with the sound of another blast and it drops to the ground. The echo of the shot is followed closely by silence and then the sound of hurried footsteps coming toward me.

  The man comes around from the other side of his truck and I look up at him. I wish my arms weren’t shaking uncontrollably.

  “Are you bit?” he asks me.

  I can’t find the words. I look down at my body. I’ve got scrapes bruises and a deep cut, but I haven’t been bitten or scratched.

  “No,” I tell him.

  He walks over to me, not taking his eyes off the town as more greyskins start to make their way toward us. He puts a strong hand under my arm and helps me to my feet.

  “Let’s go,” he says.

  “Where are we going?”

  He helps me into the seat and closes the door. The window is rolled down and he looks back at the town then turns to me.

  “Away from here.”

  Chapter Two

  We drive about a mile before the man pulls over. I can’t tell what his intent
ions are. He just saved my life, but for all I know he could be planning to leave me here in the middle of nowhere. Or worse.

  I watch him get out of the cab and move around the front of the truck before finally coming to my door and opening it. I stare at his eyes intently. Still, he says nothing, but looks at my leg and motions for me to sit forward. He leans the seat toward me and reaches for something.

  When he pushes the seat back, he’s holding a clear, plastic storage container. A medical kit. He opens it up and sets it on the floor of the truck as I scoot my legs over to dangle out the doorway so he can reach my wound better.

  “Pretty deep cut,” he says as he uses my knife to cut open my jeans. I try not to wince as he cleans the wound and finally rubs healing ointment on it.

  “You saved my life,” I say. “Thank you for that.”

  He shrugs. “Saw somebody in need. I feel like it’s my duty to help. I would hope you’d do the same for me.”

  Now that I get a good look at his face, I see that he can’t be much older than me. I can’t help but wonder why he would be out by himself near a deserted town.

  “You could probably use some stitches,” he says as he starts to wrap the gauze around my leg. “You sure you weren’t scratched or bitten? You’re awfully pretty. I’d hate to have to shoot you.”

  “They never touched me. Came close, though.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “What are you doing out here?” I ask.

  He shakes his head and keeps wrapping. “Looking for someone.”

  “Well, you found me.” My cheeks burn, knowing it was a dumb thing to say, but he grins and ties off the end of the fresh bandage.

  “It’s somebody from my colony. He’s been missing for four days now.”

  “What colony?”

  “Salem,” he dabs at the scrapes on my face.

  “I’ve heard good things about Salem.”

  “It’s got its problems.” He places the medical supplies back into the container and motions for me to put my feet back into the cab. He closes the door, moving back toward the driver’s side. He gets in and starts the truck. “What about you?”

  “I’m from a village called Springhill.”

  “I know of Springhill. I’m Connor,” he says as he extends a hand for me to shake.

  I accept it and notice an electronic, black wristband on his arm. “Mora.”

  “Mora,” he repeats and nods. “You’re a long way from home. I don’t think I’ll be able to take you out that far. I can give you a ride and a couch tonight, then maybe we can get you back to Springhill in the morning.”

  “I’m not looking to go back.”

  He looks at me with an eyebrow cocked. “Runaway?”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s just that Springhill has faced a lot of attacks that could be avoided if Screven were to help us. I was hoping to meet with the leader, Jeremiah, but I ran out of fuel a few miles back.”

  Connor nods his head and starts to drive away. He gives another long look at me. I can’t really tell what he’s thinking, but I know he wants to say something.

  “My village has come under attack too many times,” I say. “We can’t really fight off the herds anymore.”

  “Jeremiah demands a lot for his protection.”

  “I know it comes at a cost, but it’s worth it, isn’t it? All it would take is a couple more herds and we’re done for.”

  “I see.” Connor grips the wheel with both hands, keeping his eyes on the road. “There are a few colonists who wish we could get out from under Screven’s rules.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  “I don’t feel that way necessarily, but I see where the argument comes from. Jeremiah takes so many of our resources to feed the fat and lazy people of Screven.”

  “But you’re protected.”

  “At the cost of giving up most of our crops, and you have to wear one of these things,” he says lifting up his arm to show a black wristband. It’s square in shape and rests just above the curve of the bone. The small screen on top, about half the size of my palm, tells me that it must be more than a simple tracking device. “It’s how we buy things,” he says. “It’s how we check in and out; we can’t do anything without it. It contains all of our personal information. Being under Screven’s protection can make you feel like you’re not your own person.”

  “I don’t know much about that, but I do know that they offer complete protection from the herds, and that’s all I want.”

  “Well, they do that for sure. What we need is free protection.”

  “Of course that would be nice, but no one is offering it.”

  “No, but it could work if the colonies and villages would all come together and help one another,” he says. “Until then, Screven is the best protection that we have.”

  “My village can’t wait for that,” I say. I can’t really tell how Connor feels about the protection of Screven. But no one will convince me that this isn’t the best thing for our village. Especially a colonist who has never had to face attack after attack, herd after herd.

  “Most in the colonies think that Screven has taken too much power for themselves. They say that even if the colonies had the power to take care of themselves that Screven wouldn’t ever leave.”

  I don’t know why, but his words annoy me, so I eventually turn my head and rest it against the seat. We drive in silence for what feels like hours. The day is fading on the horizon and I can’t help but stay awake, though I pretend to be asleep. I can’t listen to people who try to convince me to stay away from Screven. I have a little brother to think about. I have a grandmother that has no business trying to fight off herds. Springhill Village is so vulnerable. Screven is the only chance they have. At least, I thought that until I was on the rooftop; until I discovered that I could move things with my mind. If this is something I’ll be able to continue, Springhill might not need Screven’s protection.

  They have me.

  What if there are more people like me? I was able to lift tons of metal with my mind. I only wish I knew why. I’ve heard of adrenaline rushes that have allowed people to do amazing things, but this is different. I didn’t touch anything, yet objects moved at my silent command.

  I’d love to test it out again, but there’s no way that I’m going to show my new ability to this guy. I don’t know how he would react. I didn’t make it this far to be trapped by him or the people of his colony. I need a place to stay for the night and to be pointed in the right direction toward Screven. Then I will accomplish what I set out to do – to get Springhill the protection it has needed for a long time.

  It wasn’t an easy decision for the village leaders to let me go. All of them knew it would be dangerous. Screven is so far away from Springhill, which is mostly full of older people. There are some my age, but most of them are taking care of sick loved ones or staying behind to help fight.

  Right now, Springhill is in a terrible location. For some reason, greyskins frequently travel the path that passes our village. We try to have lookouts posted, but by the time they see the greyskins, the once-human flesh-eaters have already sensed us, and they come for the feeding.

  We’re low on food. We’re low on ammunition. Our crops are dying. There are about a thousand of us, but the numbers are dwindling. We used to be a lot bigger. We might have had about ten thousand or more people at one time. But the more people there are, the more greyskins a place can attract.

  Almost six years ago, there was a series of attacks. Hundreds of greyskins assaulted Springhill. I’ll never forget that terrible morning. My parents were killed. At the end of the fight, those that had been bitten were all led to a long burial ditch. All of them went willingly.

  I hope Connor doesn’t notice me wipe away a tear from my cheek. I can’t think about that day without crying. The worst part was watching my little brother Jake. He was five at the time and didn’t understand why his parents were walking away from him so they could be shot an
d buried.

  He understands now. But it doesn’t make it any less difficult.

  I must have drifted off. My head jerks up when the truck’s engine turns off and Connor opens his door.

  It’s pitch black outside. I hate being outside when it’s dark. By the time you notice a greyskin at night it can be too late. They might already be on top of you.

  “Are we there?”

  “Almost, but not yet,” Connor says. “Come out here.”

  I really don’t want to open my door, but this is his turf. He probably knows there aren’t any greyskins around. This is what I tell myself anyway. It’s what I need to believe.

  I step out of the cab and wince at the new pain throbbing through my leg. Blood has soaked through the bandage that Connor gave me, but I can tell the wound has finally clotted.

  I meet Connor at the back of the truck. In the bed there are a few tarps and gardening tools.

  “You need to get under the tarp and stay quiet.”

  “What?”

  “You’re going into a colony, Mora. Colonies have very strict rules about newcomers.”

  “Can’t you just tell them that I’m here for the night and I’ll be gone tomorrow?”

  “It doesn’t work like that. They’ll want to process you, make sure you aren’t bit. After they question you most of the night, they’ll give you the boot. Now I’m not against the Screven guards, but they aren’t the nicest people to mess around with.”

  Whether he means to or not, Connor keeps giving me reasons not to trust Jeremiah and the Screven guards. It doesn’t exactly help lessen my anxiety in all of this.

  “Colonies under Screven’s protection are only allotted a certain number of citizens,” Connor says. “Salem is maxed out at twenty thousand right now. Bringing in more is against the rules.”