The Son of the Morning: Book One of The Nightfall Wars by Jacob Peppers

Author:Jacob Peppers [Peppers, Jacob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jacob Peppers
Published: 2017-10-29T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

His mother’s scream was muffled by the wagon’s compartment, but he could hear the fear, the hysteria in it. A moment more and his father’s shouting joined hers, ragged cries of rage and despair. There was a bone-jarring impact, and Alesh’s head slammed into the slat of wood that enclosed the compartment. He bit his tongue, tasted the coppery tang of blood, and then they were flipping through the air, end over end, each revolution slamming him against the inside of the wagon and sending sharp lances of agony through his body.

The wagon crashed to the earth, wood snapping and shattering with the force of its landing. Alesh’s head struck the side of the wagon again and white light flashed in his eyes. He lay, dazed, feeling as if every bone in his body had been broken. Outside, something growled in what sound like satisfaction, then other voices joined it, growling and shrieking in maddening, terrible cries that sent a shiver of terror through him. “Get away from her, you bastards!” His father’s voice, almost as feral, as bestial as the others.

“Torrik!” His mother screamed, “Watch out!”

His father answered in a wordless howl of fury and pain that seemed to go on forever. Then there was a violent ripping sound, and abruptly his father’s cries cut off. His mother screamed, her voice breaking into heart-wrenching sobs that could be heard over the cacophony of growls and snarls that seemed to come from every direction. “Amedan, Father of Light, ple--“ That terrible tearing sound came again, and then she, too, was silent.

Inhuman voices howled and cried out their triumph, a blood-curdling chorus that was, by far, the worst sound Alesh had ever heard. Until they began to feed. Please no, Alesh thought. This isn’t how it happened. I wasn’t awake. But the dream did not stop, and he laid there, his body crying out in pain, and listened to the wet slurping noises until, finally, they ended. He felt a wash of relief when the noises stopped but, in another moment, a snuffling came from outside the wagon, a sound that reminded Alesh of a dog searching for a scent. They can smell me, his fear-addled mind had time to register. Then the wagon gave a violent lurch, the wood creaking in protest as something jerked at the compartment door. Alesh’s cry of fear was answered by an ear-splitting roar and the wagon gave a lurch even more powerful than the first. Wood cracked and a chunk of the compartment’s door came free in a shower of splinters.

Alesh watched the finger-length claws tearing at the wood with something almost like relief. He would be with his parents again. Soon. My father’s name is Torrik, he thought, then he closed his eyes and waited for the end.

Alesh, A strangely familiar voice spoke inside of his head, you must awake. He pushed the voice away, tried to ignore it. He’d been alone for too long. This time would be different, this time, he would be with his parents.

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