Scavenger story
Chapter One
It was too dark to see what was going on, but I had my very own pair of night goggles. They were rare and very expensive, so it was a wonder a mercenary like me had them. But I did. I slipped them from the leather satchel attached to my waist, donned them, and drew my bow. I could see the pair of Scavengers on the ground and from my vantage point on the rooftop, I was positive I could kill them. It was my job to kill people who were deemed undesirable by my employer, no questions asked. As the female shuffled away from the male, I loosed my arrow. It found its target within her skull, the feather protruding from her ear. With a smile I notched another and aimed at the male, still stunned by the turn of events. He was probably thinking he wanted to eat his mate, though I couldn’t tell you what he was thinking. He was dead, and I can’t read dead minds. The second arrow found its slot in his eye socket, and he fell in a heap next to his definitely dead mate.
I paused for a brief moment to make sure there were no more Scavengers around, and then climbed down the building by the service stairs. I retrieved my arrows, cleaned them with an oiled cloth, and returned them to the quiver across my back. Despite the warmth of the night, I stacked the two bodies together and burned them, mostly to dispose of them. You couldn’t just leave the Scavenged out in the elements; any manner of creature could feast upon its flesh and itself become one of them. Animals did not deserve such a fate, not even the evil or cruel ones. I stood in the shadow of the alley and watched the bodies burn in the street, I wondered briefly what other things I could have done with my life. But then I realized there was nothing else for me except helping to cleanse the world of these diseased creatures.
My name is ___ ____. And I am a mercenary.
~
After I was sure the bodies were well burned, I retreated once again to the building through a door in the alley. I locked it behind me and found my horse standing there, neighing at me. Something was wrong. Scythe never spoke to me unless something was absolutely wrong, and right now it was. I searched into Scythe’s mind and found that another human was in the building, one who was not Scavenged. That was a relief, at least for a moment. Then my mind began to whirl as I hunted for the human, not with my body, but with my mind. I could not read minds or put thoughts in other people’s heads; I could simply detect the traces of a life source, human or animal, and know what its intentions were. My people had no name for my power, but it was what kept me alive all these years.
At last I found his dim mental signature, blue-grey in my mind’s eye. I calmed Scythe with a gentle touch to his nose and a calm murmur, before I pushed my night goggles down around my neck and crept around the makeshift stall and peered about. It was a man, strong and handsome and dead asleep. I willed my boots to be silent as I stalked toward him, keen on finding out his intentions. With my bow drawn, I kicked his foot. With a start he sat up, flinging out his hands in front of his face, to protect himself. He mumbled something, half asleep, and then focused on my arrow pointing between his brows. “I-I mean you no harm,” he said, stumbling over the words to make his intentions clear. He didn’t want to die tonight.
I had been up on the roof for hours, watching the pair of Scavengers shamble up and down the street, so it was a wonder that I had not noticed his presence before now. I had been concentrating on the targets so much I had failed to watch my own back. But at least he was telling the truth; his brain gave off no red, angry pulses. He didn’t want to hurt me. “Get up,” I demanded, taking half a step back to give him room in such a cramped space. He had made a fire in one of the old metal barrels and the embers still burned within, giving off smoke and heat. It was not cold enough for it, but the smell of singed meat-fresh meat-gave me the idea that perhaps he had made himself dinner in my hide out.
He stood rather quickly, dusting off his pants as he did so, keeping his eyes trained on my bow the entire time. I was not afraid to use it, either, but he already knew that. He knew who I was, and was glad to have found me; or so his brain told me. I can catch glimpses of emotions, too, if the timing is just right. Reading intentions and emotions, that was my power. “What do you want?” I asked, annoyed that I had been found so easily. But that could wait. I needed to know what this guy wanted with me. I drew back my bowstring a little tighter, and he threw up his hands in the universal sign of peace, but I didn’t relax. Instead, I simply waited.
Finally he opened his mouth. “My name is Evander O’Callaghan. I work for your boss, Mr. Faraday. He sent me here to give you another assignment, and to tell you that I’m to accompany you for the remainder of your contract.” I watched him carefully, scrutinizing his every move. Even my brain couldn’t find fault in that statement, but I was far from relaxing my grip on the bow.
“How did you find me?” I finally asked. He made a move toward his bag, and I tightened the string again, hissing at him. “If you want to keep your life, I suggest you tell me what’s in that bag, and why you’re reaching for it.”
He sighed, clearly scared for his life. “There’s food and water and clothes in here, plus a device that led me to you. It’s a tracker.” I raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly. He lifted the strap on the bag and pulled out a small electronic box, no bigger than a cigarette carton. He touched a few buttons on it, and a dim beep sounded. Frowning, I turned my ear toward Scythe, and heard him whinny again. The beeping was coming from my bag. “How did it get in there?” I asked, my eyes narrowed at him. Evander punched another button on the device and the beeping stopped. He placed it carefully back into his bag and straightened up, keeping his hands up, palms toward me, to show his innocence. I doubted that very much, but I wasn’t going to comment on the state of his soul just yet.
“A tracking device was put into your bags before you left, so our boss could keep track of your movements. He wanted to make sure you were getting his jobs done in a timely manner.” He shrugged then, as if my skills were not in question here. I sneered, but made no move or comment. Evander continued, “I was sent, like I said, to bring you another assignment. And, uh...our boss wants me to be your apprentice.” My eyes widened slightly, but only just slightly. I had never had an apprentice before, especially one nearly my own age; it seemed absurd, but I wouldn’t say that to him.
“How old are you?” I asked, to make sure my assumptions were correct.
“Twenty five,” he said, with another one of his shrugs.
So, I was right. He was only a year older than I was, but that alone seemed strange. How could I apprentice someone older than me? Maybe he was joking, but I didn’t think so. He bent to retrieve something else from his bag, and I kept my eyes fixed on him. Evander pulled out a folder of papers, tied together with a leather cord, and hesitated when he held it toward me. Obviously I was supposed to take it. I relaxed the bow and held it in my left hand as I pulled the papers from his grasp, but didn’t let him out of my sight. If necessary, I could still cut his throat with the arrow I held firmly between my fingers. But the more time went on, the more I began to trust that what he was saying was true. My brain was never wrong, but sometimes you just have to be cautious, especially in my trade. I slung the bow across my shoulder, put the arrow back in my quiver, and watched him for a moment as I held the papers between my hands.
This was unusual, receiving an assignment as soon as my previous one had been carried out. If Mr. Faraday knew where I was, he surely understood that I was picking off the Scavenged one by one, in this hell of a town. I hoped the pair still smoldering outside were the last I had to see, but somehow I knew that wasn’t the case. At least this town was clean of them, and the people here could start rebuilding. But this was not really Evander’s fault; it was my own. Three years ago, I had agreed to a five year contract. But Evander was foolish to come here, to seek me out in this hellish place; I looked around him, finding only a traveling cloak and his bag. Where was his horse? Or did he ride a motorcycle? “How did you get here?” I asked suddenly, placing the papers in my saddlebag on the floor. I would read it later, when I wasn’t concerned with his fool of a man before me.
“I rode my horse,” he said with a shrug. I was going to get tired of those fast.
“Where is it?” I asked, clearly not seeing it around here. He didn’t even bring it inside? What a fool! I was trying to hide my annoyance, but I know I wasn’t doing a good job.
He looked ashamed for a moment, but finally he answered, “She was bitten by a Scavenger, so I had to put her down.”
For a moment I felt stupid for assuming he had left her outside, but then I simply felt bad for what had happened to his horse. That meant, however, that we would have to share Scythe until we could find him another mount, and I had no idea when that would be. Scythe would manage, though. He always had. “I’m sorry,” I finally said. Normally, I would apologize to no one, not even Evander O’Callaghan, my apprentice; but something about his sad face made me think he had a similar relationship with his horse that I had with mine. That loss, at least, I could understand.
I took off my bow and quiver and set them near my bags before I really got a good look at Evander. He was exhausted, but otherwise unharmed. He had probably ridden very hard to get here as quickly as he had, and had probably fought off more than his share of Scavengers on the way. That alone raised him in my esteem, but only by a bit. He was still a sorry excuse for an apprentice. “Let’s get some sleep. We can work out details in the morning,” I told him as I checked the locks on both doors leading into our part of the building. The dead bolts were locked and secure, Scythe was safely sheltered in his stall, and my things were all in order. I crouched by my saddle, pulled out the grain bag, and fed my horse a few handfuls of food from my hand. He munched happily on the grain and when he was finished, I offered him water in the bowl I carried for him. I rinsed my hands in the extra water and then set it out to dry. Tucking his food back into my saddle bag, I pulled my cloak over myself and settled in to sleep.
I crouched by my saddle, pulled out the grain bag and fed my horse a few handfuls of food from my hand. He munched happily on the grain for a few moments and when he was finished, I offered him water in the bowl I carried for him. I rinsed my hands in the extra water and then set it out to dry. Tucking his food back into my saddle bag, I pulled my cloak over myself and settled in to sleep. Today was turning out stranger than I ever thought possible, and there was the tiny matter of Evander to deal with in the morning. But as his breath turned into the deep, rhythmic sounds of sleep, I began to relax and found that I could fall asleep despite the stranger sleeping only a few yards away.
Chapter Two
Evander turned out to be quite a fast learner.
Despite not trusting him completely, I found that I could count on him for certain things. Like being quiet when I called for silence, or knowing how to feed and properly care for Scythe whenever we stopped to rest. After traveling west for days, we found ourselves near a small village. It seemed quaint and thankfully quiet. I looked over at Evander, where he stood holding Scythe’s reins, and asked, “Should we chance it?”
“It would be easy enough to go around the town,” he said with one of his characteristic shrugs, like he was perpetually indifferent. In reality, those shrugs usually meant he was uncertain or nervous. Shifting my bow so it sat more comfortably across my shoulders, I studied Evander for a moment before turning my eyes back toward the town.
It was nestled between two hills, with a river valley spreading across the plains that were, at the moment, directly across from us. We stood at the pinnacle of the “v” the hills created, looking down on the small town. I could see sheep and shepherds on the rolling hillside, fishing boats on the river, and the town square where people were busy trading and selling their wares. We weren’t too far from the town, but far enough not to be noticed if anyone looked toward the hilltops in the distance.
“True, but if the town is quiet enough, we could find an inn for the night. Maybe have a proper night’s sleep and a hot bath,” I said, not forgetting about the hot meals an inn would provide. That would be a luxury both of us could enjoy, and we had enough money to spend. I was especially looking forward to a hot bath and a mug of warm cider. He considered my suggestion for a moment and finally agreed to chance it. He was as eager as I was for some of those rare comforts.
The town was a recent thing, probably cast offs from some larger, industrial city. After the wars/rebellions/revolutions (?), everybody seemed to remember that life could go on without technology, and that it might be a simpler and happier life, too. Some people still preferred to live in cities with brick buildings and gasoline-powered vehicles, but many others left their lives of luxury and moved out into the country, to settle and build communities along rivers and lakes and crossroads. They had little use for electricity or what city-dwellers referred to as “modern” things like cars or motorcycles. People in these small towns preferred to live in the old ways, relying on the land and their own hard work for the things they needed like food, water, and shelter. Even their livelihoods changed to match their new lives; shepherds and fishers, menders and bakers, even a few mercenaries, like me, to protect them from the city-dwellers and Scavenged alike.
Evander and I came from cities, but that didn’t mean we were adverse to these little hamlets. Sometimes I preferred the quiet and solitude of towns versus cities. Eventually, though, I had to return to city name (?) to report to Mr. Faraday and receive my new orders. Evander’s new presence in my life, however, had made my once frequent trips into the city almost nonexistent. He had some way to communicate to Mr. Faraday our whereabouts and the progress on our newest assignment. I didn’t pretend to understand it, but Evander wasn’t secretive about the process, either. He wanted me to trust him, I think, and slowly I began to see his merits.
I took the lead as we headed down the dirt road leading to the town. It was just past midday and while we had rations of dried meat and some stale bread, I knew we could find better fare here. I was determined to replenish our supplies before we left tomorrow, so we could have something different to eat than salt fish and dried deer.
This is far from finished, but I'm working on it. I think it has some promise.