So first things first, loyal RSS subscribers wondering what has happened to the Beach Bum and his minimal musings, you can find his ramblings at BeachBumBillionaire.net. A nicely branded URL. Then if your RSS feed becomes suddenly filled with my angst filled tirades about self-publishing and you start wondering about mailing me some anthrax to speed up the process, then rather re-subscribe to BBB using http://beachbumbillionaire.net/feed

All loyal readers using email to follow along will be moved automagically for you, manually for me, to a brand new spanking thoroughly worth it MailChimp system. It will have bells, there may be whistles.

That’s all for now. Apologies for the hiccups.

Status:

Draft Complete, Massive Re-writes

Backcover Blurb:

In the darkness of a world close to death a single light flickers. A world choked in the killing vines of the near triumphant Dark. A girl child is born free of malice, hatred, and rage. Born without a corrupted heart. A unique child, the final pulse of an all but hopeless world. Innocence and light radiate from her. A single candle shining bright, in the world’s endless night.

Eva, was like any other alley scrap, dressed in dirt covered tatters, her lungs choked by smoke and the ever-present ash of the world’s burning as the last nations raged and crumbled. Her honey brown hair was matted and grimy, her green eyes bloodshot and darkly ringed. She was a beautiful girl underneath it all, though not remarkably different.

Except that she drew the eye, and the heart, and the last vestige of the soul, a broken man carried with him. She pulled that toward her, as if a light shone from within. Drawing to her those lost moonless moths back from the edge of the abyss. Back to the light.

That night it drew two cut-purses with loathsome desires. In the deepening dark of night, she hurried home, feet finding purchase on the concrete wall she ran atop. Her pursuers following her at street level like hungry beasts. They hunted at the same time but not together, competing to draw closer to her as she fled as fast as she could.

Weekly Scenes are released on this blog every Friday, you can find them below:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Support the Work and the Author

If you would like to skip ahead and support the work as it is developing, it is lean published here. Buying the novel now will throw the writer a few cookies to keep him going, earn his eternal gratitude. You will be written down in the little book of super-fans to be rewarded later when he rules with an iron fist, um.. with benevolence and kindness.  As I update the novel you will receive the updated versions as soon as they come out, reading ahead of every one else. Your feedback which would be greatly appreciated throughout this Beta Process will also be included in upcoming drafts. So you can shape the story! Thanks again.

• Editing and Revising first Draft

Blurb:

A man’s obsessive love for his dying wife, prevents him from letting her go.

Project Back Story:

This story was first written as a short. It goes without saying that there are spoilers in the short. Nevertheless, in keeping with netiquette. SPOILER ALERT: The Short Story version

Having written it as a short and asking a few people to read it the overwhelming response was positive and that it should be developed. There was too much story in too little space, and so for NaNoWriMo 2012, I wrote the first draft of the novel version of the story.

I plan on publishing this story at the end of April 2013 via Kindle Direct Publishing with help of the wisdom of these three nuts.

In the growing formless light Eva washed Fabre’s cook pots in the water of a nearby stream, he had handed them to her with a smile when he woke her.

“Bonnar and I will look for something to aid young Kord. See if you can fix something up for him to eat. He needs his strength,” the man had said.

Eva’s mind drifted as she washed the pots in the icy water, it made the skin on her fingers tight and blue. She looked at her small hands, and then the cut on her arm. Stitched neatly. She glanced up then to watch the backs of the brothers as they searched the landscape. Bonnar ever watchful, always scanning for danger. Fabre pouncing on bushes and shrubs only to throw aside useless stalks muttering to himself.

“My name is Dalibor Jerochim, but you may call me ‘Dal’. That is… if you can forgive me,” Dal said dropping two fat rabbits next to Eva.

Eva started at his voice, and the two dead rabbits.

“Thank you,” she said finally.

She looked to Kord, who still slept, his face pale and his dreams fitful and unpleasant. The two brothers were distant, out of ear shot now.

“Thanks Dal, this will help,” she said, forcing a smile. The man nodded. She reached for the rabbits.

Before Eva’s hand grasped the first rabbit, Dal flicked out a knife, and Eva jumped, dropping the pots and scuttling back.

Dal looked at her and frowned, as he began skinning the first rabbit. He expertly removed the hide, without tearing or piercing it.

“Relax, Eva.” He said with his crooked smile, “I do not think… clearly when it comes to dire wolves.” He paused looking at the rabbits, “Should we make a quick rabbit stew?”

She nodded and he sectioned the small animal, separating its limbs, and casting aside the innards. She fetched the pots, inspecting them quickly for dents or cracks. The was only one little dent, maybe Fabre wouldn’t notice.

She began washing the tubers she had dug up earlier, a little further up the stream from Dal. She didn’t trust this man, his skill could be useful and the rabbits would certainly help Kord’s strength. Which only a fool would not see he needed desperately. But she would breathe far more easily when Bonnar was back.

She worked quietly and quickly, lighting a fire to boil some water for the tubers. Skinning them and chopping them up, all the while watching Dal as he flicked his knife through the rabbits. He separated skin from flesh, limb from body with such ease it made Eva’s skin crawl. She cursed softly as she dropped a tuber into the fire, snatching it quickly, she dusted it off and dropped it into the pot.

When she looked back up, Dal was watching her. He seemed to sigh inwardly, and continued with the rabbits. He handed them to Eva, who took them with outstretched arms, keeping her distance.

The sun was cresting the valley walls, and the stew was almost ready when Eva heard an excited voice.

“Eva! Eva I have something!” called Fabre, hurrying back. Bonnar taking quick long strides to keep up.

In his hands he held some green fluffy leaves, Eva had never seen that particular leaf before, although she doubted she would recognise it again if she stood on the plant. She smiled up at him uncertainly.

“Oh yes of course, well, it’s called Heartsboon by some. Good for a bit of vigour, we used to use it our winter stews. Just added it to Kord’s meal,” he said excitedly, “It smells great by the way. Is it ready? I’m starving!”

Bonnar eyed the hunter sitting nearby trimming his nails with his blade.

“He brought the rabbits,” said Eva pointing at the bubbling stew.

“My thanks, good hunter,” said Fabre.

“Dal, my name is Dal,” He replied.

“My name -”

“I know yours, Fabre brother of Bonnar.” He said nodding to both men.

Bonnar remained silent. He held a few forgotten sprigs of Heartsboon in his hand, his club was in his other. His fingers flexed around the handle as he considered Dal. He took two quick steps and sat between Eva and Dal.

“I’m watching you, hunter,” said Bonnar.

“I can see that, slayer.”

“Bonnar.”

“Yes that’s you, I’m called Dal,” said Dal with hand placed on his chest, and earnest eyes.

Dal continued trimming his nails as if Bonnar didn’t exist. The big man’s face grew dark and the muscles in his neck bunched. Dal ignored him some more.

“It’s ready,” Eva said and blushed when nerves made her voice pitch shoot up.

“Great, not a moment too soon, child,” Fabre said taking a steaming bowl from Eva and handing it to Bonnar pointedly.

Bonnar took it, snatching it from Fabre. Who rapped him on the knuckles with a spoon and motioned with his head to Eva. Bonnar’s cheeks flushed.

“Thank you Eva.” He said, returning his attention to the bowl he began shovelling the food into his mouth. Eva thought he might eat the bowl as well.

“Bloody cavemen,” Fabre said shaking his head at the two men,”Excuse my language Eva. The hunter can help himself I think. Come help me feed Kord.”

Eva dished a bowl for Kord. Fabre moved to the lad, propped the boy up and held his head steady. Fabre gently pryed open Kord’s mouth, and nodded for Eva to spoon in some stew. She placed a mouthful in, and Fabre closed Kord’s mouth, stroking his throat to make him swallow.

Eva paused looking at Fabre uncertainly.

“His fever will keep him asleep, Eva but he needs the strength. Let’s carry on.”

They continued to feed Kord in small bites, as he sat delirious, looking increasingly grey. Dal and Bonnar both watched each other as they ate their own bowls of stew. Glaring at each other with menace, whenever their eyes met.

“Like two dogs in a yard those two,” Eva said.

“Yes, that one might be rabid, ” Fabre said, “best we keep an eye on him, hmm.”

The two men moved to wash their bowls in the stream, standing at the same time, they both strode quickly to the stream and then started to rush. Bowl washing quickly splashing water about, Bonnar finished first with a smirk. Dal handed his bowl to Bonnar and shrugged. He walked up to Eva and Fabre, crouching down beside them. Eva tensed, pausing her feeding of Kord. Fabre leaned over Kord, coming protectively between the boy and Dal. Dal showed them his empty hands. He paused a moment, licking his lips, then smiled his crooked smile.

“I know a healer,” he said.

Eva looked from his face to his right hand. The dark blood dripped from the heart, the black and twisted thing was from the alpha wolf. The one that leapt first. A lump of flesh that had driven that beast, and stoked the fires of its hatred.

Eva looked back to those eyes, white in the deep darkness of that hood. More beast than man. Guessing his intentions, her veins were rivers of ice. Her stomach knotted and threatened to empty itself.

Eva laid Kord’s head gently down and stood. Kord’s eyes never left her. Fabre and Bonnar watched her too.

“What are you doing with that, hunter?” Eva said approaching the man.

“It is nothing of your concern, girl,” he said. “What of your friend? That wound looks bad.”

“He will be fine for now, Fabre does what he can.” She gave him a nod of her own for thanks, “Tell me, good hunter. What is your intentions?” Eva said stepping closer, her voice growing hard as iron. She could guess but she needed to know.

“Girl, this is my – you need not know what I intend,” the Hunter said.

Eva stood in front of the tall man. He towered over her, head and shoulders taller. Even so he took a half step backwards, under the brunt of her steady gaze. He grew uncertain and appeared to shrink before her.

“I would consume their strength,” he said faintly, raising the bloody chunk in his hand, frowning slightly as he did so. He seemed surprised by his words and the thing in his hand.

“That is an evil thing to do, good hunter” she whispered. Her face calm.

“All in this world is evil, girl,” he said with a shrug waving at the world deep in darkness, “I am no different.”

There was sorrow there, Eva thought.

“That is not true. We are different. ” Eva said, “You are different, you are a good man.”

Eva took his wrist, reaching toward his fingers to loosen their grip.

“Don’t call me that!” he yelled “Nothing is good in this forsaken world.”

The hunter pushed her back, causing her to stumble. A firm hand held her up, and nudged her forward. It was Bonnar. He was standing behind her now.

“The nights may be long and kindness short, but we are not forsaken. It takes but the changing will of man, and a just act to lighten the darkness. You did not stand by. Neither did Kord, he bled to save me. Even now a stranger helps one who attacked his kin.” Eva said, stepping forward once more pressing her will on the hunter.

“You were my bait, child. Nothing more!” He yelled, eyeing Bannor who stood behind Eva his torch light dancing shadows behind the hunter.

“Then why not wait until the wolves were distracted with feeding?” Eva yelled back.

The hunter flinched as if struck by those words, pain flickered across his face. The whites of his eyes were visible, and he looked hunted. He looked at the heart in his stained hand, he seemed disgusted by it.

“Hunter, cast it aside.” Bonnar said in a low grumble.

“You do not understand! I need their strength!” He said, stepping back unsheathing his dagger and pointing his dagger at Eva. “You cannot take my vengeance from me!” he had a wild look in his eyes as if struggling.

Eva saw the turmoil in his mind and stepped forward, “Hunter I do not -”

Snap.

The hunter attacked like a cornered animal. He slashed outward with his dagger, cutting Eva on the forearm. She recoiled in pain, clutching her arm, blood seeped between her fingers. Tears welling in her eyes. The hunter stepped backwards stumbling over the corpse of a wolf. He looked at the dagger in his hand, his fingers uncurled and he let it drop to the road.

He snapped his head back to Eva, turned and threw the heart into the darkness, and then he fled into the night. Silence. Bonnar stepped up to the girl quickly and took Eva by the wrist in his huge hands. He unclasped her hand and turned her forearm to look at the cut. His brow smoothed and he whistled.

“It is but a scratch, that man is lucky,” he said glaring in the direction the hunter had run.

He smiled at Eva, placing an arm behind her, guiding her to Fabre.

“Brother, you have more work.”

Kord’s wound was closed, Fabre shook off his disbelief and moved to look at Eva’s arm. “It is minor Eva, don’t fret.”

He was silent a few moments before saying “What path do you take, young lady?”

“We were travelling to the Black Forest, I heard there is game there. Life must be easier away from the gangs.” Eva said clenching her jaw as Fabre stitched her cut closed.

Another scar, she thought.

“I will follow you,” he said finally, without looking up from his ministrations.

Eva looked at him in surprise, almost pulling back from his firm grasp. He looked up then, at her face, seeing the question there.

“I think that boy there will die by tomorrow night if I did not lend what aid I can. I am no healer, mind you, as I said. But I’ll be damned if I cannot find something to give him strength. Bonnar and I will look when it’s light,” Fabre said, looking at her squarely in the eye. There was a twinkle there.

“I feel you will have need of me, miss.” Fabre said before falling silent.

“Where Fabre goes, I go,” Bonnar rumbled behind her, “It is a long way, child. You will have need of two strong hands, and a sturdy club.” He paused a moment, “And Fabre and his little needle.” Bonnar grinned broadly, kicking Fabre’s dagger which was lying on the ground toward him.

Eva nodded.

And then there were four.

The beast was dead.

Eva laid there in shock. She could not move the animal, its bitter life flowing over her, soaking her in crimson. She looked up and saw the white fletching of arrows. Two.

One in the heart, one in the eye.

She could barely breathe with the weight on her, crushing down on her. She struggled pushing with all her strength against it but the corpse did not move.

A hunter! Eva thought.

The air filled with growls, the shouts of men, breaking bones and tearing flesh. The air whistled with loosed arrows, striking their targets and ramming home. The thumps of that massive club connecting and cracking skulls. Dire wolves howled, yelped and died. In seconds it was over. The night still again.

Eva’s lungs began to burn, and here world started to swirl. She was about to pass out, when the wolf was lifted off Eva, and tossed aside into the ditch beside the road. Air rushed into her lungs in a deep gasp. Her vision steadied and a man with a beard, stood over her.

“Are you hurt?” said the great man, his accent was French.

Eva touched her cheek, and shook her head. The man turned away from her.

“Fabre!” Bonnar yelled, “Are you hurt?”

He could not see his brother, he had killed three wolves. One to save the girl, the other two to save himself. His brother had not been in his thoughts for those moments.

“Bonnar, I am fine. This young fox is bleeding badly though,” said Fabre, “Find the hunter and thank him. We owe him our lives.”

Bonnar looked around, at the scene before him. The young girl still lay on the road. Fabre pressed on the young boys wound. There were those two dead wolves, the other two near Bonnar. On the ground in total, nine of the beasts lay dead. Six of them bristling with arrows.

Six! Bonnar thought, Two for every one of mine.

In the cool night slow tendrils of steam rose from the massive twisted animals. They were half again bigger than any natural wolf. They would chase their prey off a cliff before giving up. Bonnar spat to his side to ward off evil, crossing himself for added measure.

He turned at the sound of a man stepping quietly up behind him.

“Hold, giant. I do not wish to waste an arrow,” the hunter said, his voice hinted at a smile though his face was unseen in his hood.

“I have never seen a man crush a dire wolf’s skull. You killed three with that stick, Slayer.”

“It’s a good club. My name is Bonnar,” was all Bonnar could say as his fatigue hit him, adrenalin leeching out of his veins. A wave of tiredness washed over him, his strength fled and he dropped down onto one knee, using his club to stop his fall.

“Do not kneel to me Bonnar, I am no lord,” said the hunter, lowering his bow.

“Good hunter, we owe you our lives.” Eva said standing.

“Girl, you owe me nothing. You were the bait, I was the trap.” He said pulling arrows from the corpses. He cursed when one broke, kicking the dead beast in the ribs. It twitched and he rammed a dagger into its heart.

Eva walked to the hooded man, coming between him and the skewered corpse.

“Thank you sir, truly,” she said, placing her hands on his chest and looking up at him.

The man paused.

“It was nothing,” he said pulling back from her and shrugging off her hands.

He walked from her, to the beast that first attacked her. And began skinning it. It was the largest of the dead dire wolves. The alpha wolf. Eva saw now that his hood was fashioned from the skin of one of those beasts. The dead eyes looking out as he looked down. It made him seem to be one of them, walking on its hind legs. The thought of such a thing sent a shiver down her spine.

“Young lady, your companion needs your help to keep him still,” Fabre said, “I am no healer but I can stitch that wound. If he could just lie still I could close it, before his life leaks from him this night.”

Kord struggled against Fabre’s grip, his eyes wild. He was trying to reach Eva. She stepped toward him and knelt down, holding him down with his head in her lap. She stroked his hair to calm him, crooning to him softly as if he were a babe.

Kord looked at her, touching a hand to the blood on her cheek.

It was just a scratch, Kord thought, she was fine. Safe.

He relaxed and let the man stitch his burning wound. Fabre worked with swift, deft hands to seal the wound at Kord’s side. He knitted the flesh together with each stitch, he would close the wound in minutes.

Bonnar came and knelt beside Fabre, holding a torch fashioned from a burning rag wrapped around his club. It’s flickering smoky light showing the truth of the wound. Fabre looked up at his brother and smiled, nodding his thanks. He frowned when he looked back at the wound, the edges were red and beginning to blacken.

That is not right, Fabre thought.

“This is a brave fox, young miss,” Bonnar said, “Few grown men attack a bear like me.” There was admiration in his voice, and Fabre nodded ever so slightly at his words, a frown deepening on his face as he stitched faster.

“His name is Kord,” Eva replied.

“And mine is Fabre,” said the man stitching. “And this oaf with the club is my brother Bonnar.” Bonnar nodded.

“Kord has the look of fever in his eyes, lady,” Fabre said pointing, “I fear if we do not find the proper poultice for that wound – it will take him.”

Fabre picked up the filthy rags that had been Kord’s bandage and threw them aside. Kord looked only at Eva, a faint smile on his face, his eyes were now slightly unfocused. She stroked his matted hair from his pale face.

“I’m Eva,” she said softly.

You do feel too warm, she thought feeling Kord’s face with the back of her hand.

“That’s no simple fever,” said the hunter.

Eva jumped. The man stood behind her, she had not heard him come up.

“That looks to be poison. The blade that made that wound has poisoned his blood. He has  need of a real healer.” he said, pausing before continuing. “No offence to you, seamstress,” He smirked at Fabre.

Eva turned to face him, to gauge his words for the truth. He towered over her, the torchlight not reaching his face. Eva looked down, and her breath caught. In his right hand he held the black and twisted heart of a dire wolf.

“Run!” Bonnar roared at his brother. They crashed through the under-brush  Bonnar pushing him to run faster. Bonnar was a bear of a man, a great brute but he moved fast. Fabre sprinted, his legs were failing, he’d been running too long. Too far. Only the fear of death kept him moving.

“ I’m running, Bonnar! What does this look like?” Fabre shouted back. The brothers had fled since the light of the sun had failed, casting this valley in darkness. The pack had picked up their scent and hunted them out of the high lands, chasing them down into the valley toward the smoking ruins of a town.

Fabre urged his leaden legs on, his lungs burning, his throat dry. He fought to gulp down air as his body screamed at him. He spurred it own with images of gnashing teeth and hungry eyes in the night. He ran, stumbling on the uneven ground, pitching forward his arms flailing. The ground rushed up toward him. He leaned into the fall and rolled onto his shoulder, awkwardly coming back to his feet, and he ran on. He could smell the smoke of the town now, they were close. He felt like laughing out loud, they might make it.

Suddenly it was quiet.

Fabre’s blood froze as he realised he was alone. He skidded to a halt, the primal part of his mind lashing at him, urging him to run.

Where’s Bonnar?

Fabre looked back for his brother. Since their birth, he had never been alone. His older brother had always been ahead of him, defending him against the world. Now in the wan red light of a rising sickle moon. He was alone.

“Bonnar!” he yelled, “Bonnar! Where are you?!”

The pack howled their delight in gaining on their quarry. Fabre grew frantic, drawing his belt knife, a wickedly sharp blade but little comfort against the teeth of dire wolves. His heart thumped in his ears, his breath came in ragged gasps but it meant nothing.

Where was Bonnar?

Fear plucked at his heart. A low growl near to him began, making the hairs on his arm raise. It grew menacingly. He turned around to find it, to face it. But it ended abruptly with a meaty thump.

Out of the darkness his brother burst, a bearded mountain of a man with thickly corded muscles, waving his bloody club before him. Fabre saw the whites of his brother’s eyes as he ran toward him.

“They come and I do not think I can stop them! Run Fabre, Run! Do not stand! Run!” Bonnar yelled as he came upon his brother he grabbed Fabre’s collar and dragged him on.

The flames of the town before them lit up the dark sky. Paired with that bloody sliver of a moon, it made for a night of poor omens. The ground began to level and their feet soon found a road in the darkness. To either side they could see the reflected fire in the glowing eyes of their pursuers. Running them ragged. Chasing them until their hearts would burst and they could feast and gorge.

The road was not empty.

Kord and Eva, heard the howling wolves. They heard the crunching footsteps of men, running hard down the road toward them. Running toward the light at their backs, running to the salvation of a town, even a town burning in the night.

Kord pushed Eva to the side of the road, planting his feet and putting himself between her and the newcomers.

“Bonnar, there are people ahead!”

“I see brother, I see,” Bonnar said, his voice fatigued but deathly calm. He hefted his club ready to strike while moving.

“Stay back Eva!” Kord yelled, brandishing the short blade in front of him.

“Wait Kord! Not all men are evil,” she said pulling him back.

“Come behind me, Fabre, I will make this quick.” Bonnar whispered.

He slowed into a familiar loping run, stepping to the side and then leaping into the air. Club swinging down.

“Stop!” Eva yelled, her hand outstretched toward the darkness.

A massive club bit into the ground next to her, spraying gravel and sand.

“Leave her be!” Kord screamed rushing toward the massive man holding the club, slashing with his knife.

His feet were ripped from underneath him, a lean man skidded underneath him, sending him flying into the club welding behemoth.

The man caught him?

“Hold young fox,” the man’s strong arms held him tightly to his chest. Kord struggled, his head throbbed and his wound ripped open.

The wolves howled at the scent of the blood, their rabid frenzy peaking, as their quarry had increased. Two massive beasts padded down the road, one shadowing the other. Kord landed roughly on the ground, rolling to his side, his wound flashed pain through his mind. He fought to stand. Fought to protect Eva. But he was too slow.

The forerunner leaped at Eva, slavering jaws open wide streaking for her pale fragile neck.

Eva saw the beast coming to her, its heart a black and twisted thing, hungry beyond need, hatred fuelled its lust. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Thump.

Bone crunched sickeningly and the foul smelling beast tumbled past her. It’s mind silenced by a crushed skull.

Eva’s eyes snapped open in time to see the second wolf growl and leap at her. Bonnar roared, his club too slow.

<<< Part 4 – Coming Next Week >>>

Although this is posted late, it was in fact written last week, serves me right for getting ahead of schedule, without the deadline pressure I forgot to post!

The girl scrambled back, terror on her face. She zipped up her jacket, and pulling away from Kord into the corner and its shadows.

“Wait,” he said, putting his hands out, and his palms up. He had no weapons on him. Creb’s knife still lay where it had fallen.

She paused for a moment, looked at his grimy face and at Creb’s corpse. Then she scurried further away pressing herself up against the join in the two walls.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” he shouted stepping toward her. She froze.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He said more softly, slumping against the wall to his left.

He pressed his hand hard against his side. He was losing a lot of blood. He knew vaguely that he needed to do something about that. He began fumbling frantically with his free hand, trying to tear his shirt to bandage his wound. The girl watched his efforts and the life oozing out of him. He looked down at the growing stain, it was black in this light.

He had saved her life. He hadn’t needed to. But he had and he still didn’t know why. He found himself looking at her again.

“Hold on,” the girl said moving toward him, he continued trying to tear his shirt, biting at the fabric to rip it.

“Hold on! Save your strength before you bleed out all over the place,” she scolded him.

She picked up Creb’s knife and sliced through the bloodied shirt, the sharp blade easily cutting it. Kord flinched when it neared his throat. But her steady gaze kept him from moving. As he held her gaze a light bloomed in her eyes. Faintly at first and then it was stronger seeming to spread to her face. Making her stand out in the dark.

He was captivated, he grew calmer and his breathing slowed. It occurred to him suddenly that he cared more for her than anyone he had ever known. That sudden thought shocked him. He thought of his family, and although it galled him, he knew it was true. That sent fear coursing through him. Fear for her. He cast his glance around the alley. His awareness of the dangers of this place grew. The dangers to her.

“Why?” She whispered.

Kord simply shrugged, he did not know why. He had simply done what was right.

Why had he even cared what was right?

He stared at her as she wrapped the filthy fabric around his ribs to staunch the bleeding. She tied it tightly around his chest, her hands firm and confident as she worked but her touch gentle and light.

“Thank you,” his murmur tinged with surprise, “You’ve probably just saved my life.”

“Fair is fair,” she said with a smile that didn’t last, “and I haven’t saved your life yet, just postponed your death. We’re gonna need to find you something for that wound, or it’s just going to get worse.”

She looked away and moved to search Creb’s body. The junkie had nothing of use but the knife. The girl tossed the Boost aside, the pills falling amongst the rubble. Kord’s addicted mind thought to retrieve them, to keep them just in case. But then she took the shirt off the body, checked it for blood, and threw it to -

“What’s your name?” she said suspicious, the knife visibly between them, “ I’ve never seen you before.”

“Kord,” he said as he pulled the shirt on gingerly. “I’m not from here, been moving south for days. I’ve been headed this way since…” He trailed off, looking away from her, his eyes burned as the tears welled. He blinked them away, squeezing down on his rage, locking it away.

“I’m Eva,” She said thrusting out her hand. He took it, and shook it firmly, his eyes locking with hers. Again he saw it.

“There’s something about you, Eva,” Kord said.

She looked away, but he couldn’t tell if she was blushing.

“We better move on,” Eva said nodding toward the dead body.

“Scavengers?” Kord asked, panic a hair’s breadth from his voice.

“If we’re lucky,” she said, “gangers if we’re not. Can you walk?”

He nodded, extending a hand toward her. Eva helped him up. He was steadier. They had slowed the blood loss enough for now.

“Where do we go to?” Kord asked, waving his arm to the burning world around them.

“North to the Black Forest,” said Eva.

“Why? I know this place. It is not a good place. It is a wild place, full of animals. Some of these animals are… wrong,”  protested Kord, even as he knew she would go, and that he would follow her.

“I’m tired of running and fighting for scraps. I want to stop for a time. I want to find a place without smoke, rubble and gangers. I want a place of my own. Not some scratched out dust heap,” Eva said, “All that I know is, the Black Forest is north, and it is free of this.” Eva looked around at the still smoking ruins of the town that once was.

There was a howl in the distance. It sent an icy chill down Kord’s spine, as he realised he would have to face that again. All too soon.

“Let us move, the place we go is far,” he said, “and the darkness will keep us safe enough for now.”

Eva looked at him, as if making a final judgement, and then offered him her shoulder for support. Kord nodded and took the knife in his right hand. The pair set off into the darkness, as another howl was cast at the red sickle moon and a cry pierced the night.

Eva, was like any other alley scrap, dressed in dirt covered tatters, her lungs choked by smoke and the ever-present ash of the world’s burning as the last nations raged and crumbled. Her honey brown hair was matted and grimy, her green eyes bloodshot and darkly ringed. She was a beautiful girl underneath it all, though not remarkably different.

Except that she drew the eye, and the heart, and the last vestige of the soul, a broken man carried with him. She pulled that toward her, as if a light shone from within. Drawing to her those lost moonless moths back from the edge of the abyss. Back to the light.

That night it drew two cut-purses with loathsome desires. In the deepening dark of night, she hurried home, feet finding purchase on the concrete wall she ran atop. Her pursuers following her at street level like hungry beasts. They hunted at the same time but not together, competing to draw closer to her as she fled as fast as she could.

Dammit. I should have left earlier.

Eva thoughts raced, her heart thumping as she pumped her arms to run faster.

I should have left when it was still light. Damn Devon and his meddling!

She sprinted and leapt from the end of the wall to a crumbling shell of a building. She landed on the second floor but slipped, her legs flailing over the edge. The two boys made cat calls and slavering barks at her. Cheering her on as they closed in. The two came up the stairs, and she looked over her shoulder. They drew closer, and she let herself drop. Their smiles faded as she slipped away, landing in the dust and rubble below with a crunch.

Eva stifled a cry of pain, her ankles ached. She waited just a heartbeat and then she moved again.

Run Eva, run.

“Here now sweetie, we’s just wanna have a talk. Nothing sinister like,” called Creb the bigger of the two.

She’d known Creb her whole life, seen this world corrupt and twist him. He wore the facial tattoos of his gang now, red spirals from his eyes outward. Bound to them for life.

Eva ran from Creb’s voice ducking into a darkened pass to her right, and took a turn to the left. There was nothing in front of her but a concrete wall.

Shit. Dead end!

Scraping footsteps over the dust and gravel announced the arrival of Creb and his accomplice. Eva turned to face them as they came around the corner grinning. They split up slowly advancing, hemming Eva into the corner.

“There we are love, no need to go jumping off buildings like,” Creb drooled as he spoke, dry washing his hands as he approached her.

Eva crouched into the shadows, her eyes locked on Creb, frantically feeling around on the floor. Her hand found a rock.

“Hey now deary, no need to hide,” Creb said moving closer, the other boy held back a bit looking directly at Eva. His eyes seemed to glow faintly in the gloom. Then it was gone. Eva’s eyes shot back to Creb as he drew close enough. She flung her rock at him. It struck him solidly on the side of his head with a sickening sound and a trickle of bright red blood dribbled down. He swayed for a moment steadying himself on the wall. Creb looked at Eva and grinned, and then his rage consumed him.

“Come here!” he roared at her, lunging for Eva as she tried to evade his grasp.

Damn he was fast!

Creb grabbed hold of Eva’s hair as she made to pass him. He yanked it hard, pulling her off her feet and onto her back with a thud that sent up a cloud of dust. Eva lay winded, fighting to regain her breath and her senses, as Creb slowly circled round.

A knife flashed into his hands out of nowhere, he tossed it from hand to hand as he circled. He touched his head wound, licking the blood from the side of his cracked skull. He lunged again, grabbing her throat and sliced and tore her shirt off throwing it to the side, exposing her breasts.

“Let’s see just how pretty you are then Eva,” Creb whispered, as his free hand felt her up, his other holding the knife firmly to her throat.

“Who said you could go first?!” shouted the boy behind Creb grabbing his shoulder and pulling him backwards.

“This knife says I go first, that’s who,” Creb said. He swung at the other boy as he stumbled backwards scoring a gash across his ribs. The blood bloomed on the boy’s dirty shirt, sticking the fabric to his skin.

Creb moved to strike again as the younger boy staggered back, seeking to plunge his knife into the boy’s belly. But the boy moved suddenly taking Creb by surprise. Sidestepping Creb’s thrust the younger boy grabbed Creb’s knife arm and spun him. Using the momentum of his charge, he flung Creb toward the sharp edge of a pillar. Creb’s skull broke like a ripe melon, the knife skittering on the floor.

Eva scrambled back into the shadows, zipping up her jacket, and pulling away from Creb’s killer in terror.

“Wait,” he said, his hands out, palms up.

Eva paused for a moment, his voice sounded different from the others.

<<<< fin >>>>

Dear Reader,

If you enjoyed this story please consider sharing it. I would greatly appreciate it and should it pass a 100 shares, I’ll know its enjoyed enough to develop the story further. So you can dive deeper into Eva’s troubled journey through this tormented world.

As always, thanks for reading