Ficlet: Jeremiah: Thunder Forth
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Title:Thunder Forth
Fandom: Jeremiah
Characters: Mister Smith, Kurdy
Word Count: 627
Rating: PG
Kurdy muttered a curse in his sleep, dreaming about thunder without rain. It's throaty growl filled his head with an ominous warning, shaking the hard ground on which he lay.
I'm coming, it rumbled, dark and guttural. Primeval. I'm almost here.
"Wake up!"
Mister Smith stumbled backward as Kurdy suddenly sat bolt upright in his bedroll, a hunting knife in his hand.
Kurdy's dream followed him into waking. The ground continued to vibrate beneath him and the air was filled with a distant shout of thunder. Looking up at the predawn sky, he saw the last fading stars on a cloudless sea of purple.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded as he sheathed the blade. "You trying to get your ass killed?"
"You have to get up," said Smith as he grabbed his battered knapsack and slung a threadbare strap over his shoulder. "They're coming!"
"They? What they? Who?" But the urgency in Smith's voice motivated to his feet. The earth trembled beneath him, sending shock waves through his body. "And what in the hell is doing that? Earthquake?"
But Smith was already moving with single-minded determination, away from Kurdy and the outcropping of rocks that they'd chosen for shelter. Toward the crescendoing noise.
"Shit," grumbled Kurdy as he quickly stuffed the threadbare blanket into his pack. Shale and dirt began to visibly buck and shiver around him.
They're coming, Smith had said. Whatever 'it' was, the fucker must be huge.
Only an idiot or a madman would run toward a sound like that. He hadn't decided exactly which category Smith fell under. The phantom Voice in Smith's head was probably driving him forward.
So what was his excuse? "Smith! Get your sorry white ass back here. Smith!"
Kurdy could see the smaller man, already surprisingly far ahead. He'd run the length of the mesa's summit and now -- what the hell was he doing? Instead of veering toward the winding slope that led to the valley below, Smith was heading for the jagged edge and a sheer drop.
Cursing all the way, Kurdy picked up the pace. No way he was going to let that crazy son of a bitch jump off a cliff on his watch!
But Smith didn't jump nor did he have any intention of doing so. He stopped within a foot of oblivion, the whole of his body singing with the vibration that began with the earth and rose to the heavens. The sound was deafening now, filling the arid morning air with raw energy. He couldn't hear Kurdy's shouts or curses but he knew when the larger man reached him - and suddenly stopped in awe at the view that unfolded before them.
The plain was filled with a black and brown mass stretching as far as the eye could see. Clouds of red clay dust billowed upward beneath the rumble of thousands of hooves. Rocks rained down from the mesa walls, shaken loose by their passing.
Buffalo. Hundreds upon hundreds -- no thousands -- of buffalo, were stampeding across the plain and through the valley, shaking the very world with their passing. Had anyone in more than a hundred years seen such a sight as this? Nearly hunted to extinction, this one herd now numbered more than all the people in Thunder Mountain and it's fragile alliance combined.
In fifteen years, a nearly extinct species flourished while mankind floundered. Just another harsh truth in the wake of the Big Death.
But damn, it was an awesome sight! Kurdy could almost feel the power and the freedom in the thunder of those hooves.
Equally moved, Mister Smith saw something more in the return of the buffalo. He saw a promise for the future.
If they can do it, so can we.
Title:Thunder Forth
Fandom: Jeremiah
Characters: Mister Smith, Kurdy
Word Count: 627
Rating: PG
Kurdy muttered a curse in his sleep, dreaming about thunder without rain. It's throaty growl filled his head with an ominous warning, shaking the hard ground on which he lay.
I'm coming, it rumbled, dark and guttural. Primeval. I'm almost here.
"Wake up!"
Mister Smith stumbled backward as Kurdy suddenly sat bolt upright in his bedroll, a hunting knife in his hand.
Kurdy's dream followed him into waking. The ground continued to vibrate beneath him and the air was filled with a distant shout of thunder. Looking up at the predawn sky, he saw the last fading stars on a cloudless sea of purple.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded as he sheathed the blade. "You trying to get your ass killed?"
"You have to get up," said Smith as he grabbed his battered knapsack and slung a threadbare strap over his shoulder. "They're coming!"
"They? What they? Who?" But the urgency in Smith's voice motivated to his feet. The earth trembled beneath him, sending shock waves through his body. "And what in the hell is doing that? Earthquake?"
But Smith was already moving with single-minded determination, away from Kurdy and the outcropping of rocks that they'd chosen for shelter. Toward the crescendoing noise.
"Shit," grumbled Kurdy as he quickly stuffed the threadbare blanket into his pack. Shale and dirt began to visibly buck and shiver around him.
They're coming, Smith had said. Whatever 'it' was, the fucker must be huge.
Only an idiot or a madman would run toward a sound like that. He hadn't decided exactly which category Smith fell under. The phantom Voice in Smith's head was probably driving him forward.
So what was his excuse? "Smith! Get your sorry white ass back here. Smith!"
Kurdy could see the smaller man, already surprisingly far ahead. He'd run the length of the mesa's summit and now -- what the hell was he doing? Instead of veering toward the winding slope that led to the valley below, Smith was heading for the jagged edge and a sheer drop.
Cursing all the way, Kurdy picked up the pace. No way he was going to let that crazy son of a bitch jump off a cliff on his watch!
But Smith didn't jump nor did he have any intention of doing so. He stopped within a foot of oblivion, the whole of his body singing with the vibration that began with the earth and rose to the heavens. The sound was deafening now, filling the arid morning air with raw energy. He couldn't hear Kurdy's shouts or curses but he knew when the larger man reached him - and suddenly stopped in awe at the view that unfolded before them.
The plain was filled with a black and brown mass stretching as far as the eye could see. Clouds of red clay dust billowed upward beneath the rumble of thousands of hooves. Rocks rained down from the mesa walls, shaken loose by their passing.
Buffalo. Hundreds upon hundreds -- no thousands -- of buffalo, were stampeding across the plain and through the valley, shaking the very world with their passing. Had anyone in more than a hundred years seen such a sight as this? Nearly hunted to extinction, this one herd now numbered more than all the people in Thunder Mountain and it's fragile alliance combined.
In fifteen years, a nearly extinct species flourished while mankind floundered. Just another harsh truth in the wake of the Big Death.
But damn, it was an awesome sight! Kurdy could almost feel the power and the freedom in the thunder of those hooves.
Equally moved, Mister Smith saw something more in the return of the buffalo. He saw a promise for the future.
If they can do it, so can we.