Savage wilderness, p.1
Savage Wilderness, page 1
Savage Wilderness
Book One of the Savage Trilogy By Peter Markham
“Who is the true monster? The one with a beast in their heart or the one that is beastly in nature? Humans are more savage than any creature living in the wilderness.”
Prologue
MARK
Although he had no desire to leave civilization behind, he agreed to the plan and embarked on a journey fraught with discomfort and boredom. After an arduous and insect-ridden trek, they finally arrived at their intended destination, but his expectations of a better life were quickly shattered. His father was now in charge of a sheep ranch, and they were currently engaged in the pursuit of a witless wolf that was preying upon their already witless flock. As they rode on horseback, he found himself entranced by the stunning gradient of colors that cascaded across the horizon - a fiery red melting into a brilliant yellow and blending into a deep, vivid orange. But the beauty soon grew repetitive, and his mind yearned for stimulation.
As the turn of the century approached, anticipation for a thrilling new era permeated the air. Yet, the excitement was swiftly quashed as the colonies struggled to recover from the aftermath of the war. Seeking a change from his mundane life as a Boston merchant, his father decided to join a caravan with a small military escort and another family. But the prospect of becoming a rancher in the desolate frontier was nothing but a tiresome notion that made him roll his eyes. The sluggish pace of the caravan, bogged down by countless herded animals, only added to his discontent. He was robbed of a promising apprenticeship at a prestigious law firm and forced to abandon the comforts of the city for a desolate wilderness. While he pined for the familiarity of city life, his younger brother reveled in the prospect of a grand adventure - a sentiment only the innocent hearts of children could harbor.
“Pay attention boy!”
“Ya Pa.” He retorted back. He had no intention of paying attention. He wasn’t a tracker.
They were approaching a small house, only a one-room shack, really. It was the homestead of the other family. Dusk was stretching the shadows before him, but the night hadn’t fully claimed the land yet. Loud rapping sounds came from behind the house.
“Mark, wait here.”
His father's voice fell on deaf ears, and he allowed him to continue riding towards the house of the master carpenter - a skilled artisan with a bitter disposition. The carpenter had left his prosperous life behind and brought his apprentices to pursue a ranching career in this desolate land. His motivations were unfathomable to the young man, who was forced to endure a long and tedious ride with Sloan's young son and the carpenter's two mischievous apprentices-turned-ranch-hands. If only his father had hired seasoned farmhands, perhaps he wouldn't have been dragged to this unforgiving wilderness. The youngsters took great pleasure in tormenting anyone in their path, and Sloan, for reasons unknown, granted them ample leniency. Despite the young man's lack of response, a myriad of thoughts and emotions swirled within him, echoing his deep disdain for this ill-conceived journey into the unknown.
He hated coming here.
His father came riding back. “Nothing here. We got to backtrack to find the tracks. I’ll kill that damned beast.”
He felt this was excessive. How many days would his father waste tracking a dumb animal?
Finn
Watching his sons play always made him smile. When he started this family, he never suspected that he would have blissful nights like this. The wilderness was so dangerous, and a home like this was never expected. This life he created had only been a dream. He never thought he would find such joy in his life. Elsa’s family was very possessive, so when they left to forge their own way, he thought it would be only hardship.
The warm glow from the fire bounced shadows off the log walls. The house had been difficult to build but worth it. It was only his two hands that created it. Elsa tried, but she was pregnant with William at the time, so she was only able to help with the smallest tasks. He had insisted upon that.
Then William was born when they were nearly done. It slowed things even more, and their shelter, while he built, wasn’t enough. Having an infant made things more complicated. Once the house was finished, he realized that he wouldn’t have traded it for anything else. He felt so complete.
While enjoying the musky smoke from his pipe, he watched his sons play. James had been a surprise. After his birth, William latched onto his little brother, and they became fast friends. Their favorite game was hide-and-seek. William was such a great big brother. He tolerated all of James’s eccentricities. James was always at William’s heels when he hid. He always encouraged his sons to feel confident in their young lives.
Elsa sat across from him knitting. A typical family evening after dinner. They smiled at each other. Then that picture-perfect moment shattered. There was yelling outside.
“Will, get Jimmy in his room.” He said as he got up quickly to investigate, Elsa close behind him.
“Finn, what is it?” Elsa said, concerned.
James
The strange short outside piqued his interest. He had only heard horses once before, but they were wild, so they avoided his home. William had taken him to see them in a field. Once a man began yelling, his brother herded him into their room. “Stay here, Jimmy. Don’t come out.” William said as he partially closed the door, leaving him alone in the dark. The sounds sparked his imagination, though.
Boom!
He dropped to the ground. Fear punctuated the loud sound. Nudging the door open, he peered around it. William stood at the window. He tried to slink up to him, but he could never sneak up on his big brother. William turned suddenly, facing him. He could sense but see the concern his brother had. Suddenly His brother knelt down, facing him with an uneasy smile.
“Hey, let’s play a game.” There was something in his voice. It made him feel tense, yet the invitation to play was too enticing.
William hustled him out the back door. He stayed right behind him. They were sneaking outside. He was told to remain quiet in an urgent hushed voice. The sounds faded from memory as he dutifully followed his older brother. He was too focused on the game William was playing. It was a new one.
Mark
He was in shock. His arm felt as if it was on fire. Blood soaked through his shirt, drenching his side. The monsters just attacked and murdered his father. He killed them, though, but now he wondered if there were more. Was he safe? He could have sworn he’d seen a face in the window. He felt numb emotionally. Even the excruciating pain was beginning to ebb. Was he dying? Stumbling forward, he investigated the house. He wouldn’t give up, and he didn't feel safe. Whoever had been in there was gone now. By the looks of one room, they were probably children.
He didn’t want to stay here. They were gone, at least he hoped. It felt so damning to be there. He dragged the bodies into the log cabin, including his father. It lit fast, becoming a bright beacon of light and heat, cleansing the night of its sins. The horses had fled into the darkness when the monsters attacked. He was forced to trudge home alone on foot, injured. He figured he would die long before he arrived at his home; the cursed wilderness would claim him, too.
James
He watched as a general attitude of despair came over William. He had no idea why his big brother acted like he did or why they hadn’t gone home. He saw the bright spot in the distance as they ran. Later he cried for days for his parents, but William wouldn’t take him home. He knew something had happened, but his brother wouldn’t tell him. He just remained silent, detached.
At his age, time was a very abstract concept that meant little except when boredom overcame him. Eventually, William found a cave. They had traveled to a mountain range. This cave was small but afforded them safety from the weather. Fall turned to Winter, which came and went. When spring finally arrived, William made them move on. He cried for his parents less and less as time moved on. His reliance upon his big brother became more of a father figure than a sibling until his parents were just a faint memory. He trusted William completely.
They followed a path leading through the mountains. Every day William would make a game of their travels. His brother made the monotony entertaining. He loved that about him. They moved over a lot of hard terrain, but he never felt exhausted. It was all so new, always grabbing his attention. The smells and sights were an overload to his senses. Their time together only grew their bonds along with his endurance. The months were a blur as William taught him things about the land and the animals through games. Then from a ledge, they saw the buildings.
Sloan
It had been a long hard day. He had been tired of doing work for others. Even though he felt pride in what he built out here on the frontier, his two workers weren’t enough. Nearly no other colonists were this far west. That other family was miles away. There was a fort and trading post, but it was also a distance away. He preferred it that way, though. He wanted to be self-sustaining no matter the hardship.
As he wiped his forehead, stopping the sweat from pouring into his eyes, he glanced at his ranch hands. He was so happy when they agreed to go along. They were such a great source of pride, unlike his soft son. There wasn’t a day that went by that he wished that those two were his sons. It was his wife’s fault. She coddled the boy. He avoided hard work. The boy would never be a man in his eyes.
He looked over his property. The old shack was such an eyesore. It was constructed hastily before the harsh winter settled in. He was going to tear it down after he built the newer homestead, but then those two beggars showed up. He never wanted to take them in. But they arrived at a point in time where he needed extra help. They would steal. He knew it. They had no useful skills. The oldest would never tell him where they came from. They were white, so where did they come from? There were no caravans that passed by. No one else was out here.
He figured working them hard, disciplining them harshly, and giving them a minimal amount of attention, they would move on. But here they still remained. His soft son seemed to have already attached to the oldest one. It never surprised him. It figured if he didn’t like them, his son would just to spite him. Just another reason for his animosity toward the brothers.
Starting soon, he would phase the brothers into not only their chores but attending to the ranch responsibilities. He would work them more than anyone else. Eventually, he might be able to throw the freeloaders off his ranch, but he would have to wait for his miserable wife to die. She had become keen on them as well. This ranch would be a place for him to relax and retire. The ranch hands would inherit it, not his son.
Mark
Somehow, he survived. Not only had his arm healed, but it felt better than before. As a matter of fact, he felt more physically superior than before. He was thankful that he healed reasonably quickly after he burned that cursed dwelling.
Every night, even during the day, while awake, he had vivid dreams of running through the wilderness. Hunting, tracking, it seemed so easy, so natural. His senses were strangely heightened. A strange hunger pulsed in his stomach and veins. He felt his blood run with the savageness of the wild itself.
Then the most troubling of dreams hit him. He was only days from his home when they started. He was approaching the sheep in the field, the house not far away, the darkness just blanketing the landscape. Hunger gnawed at him. He took down a few sheep, then a loud bang and a grazing burn. A woman stood there as a shadow cast in front of her, light from the house framing her. Anger washed over him.
Then he woke. He was lying on a river bend, water flowing over his body. When did he move in the night? He remembered bedding down in a thicket. He couldn’t wait anymore, he hurried. He needed to get home. The dream unsettled him. As he approached his home, true horror hit him.
The fields were covered in torn body parts. All the sheep were dead. Then the broken, splintered front door caught his eye. He stumbled through it. His mother ripped him apart. He couldn’t find his little brother’s body.
It wasn't a dream. He attacked them. He was a monster.
He had been tainted.
Worse, he was alone. He had to face this blight alone, and surely, he would go mad.
Chapter One
William
The light glistened in the glade as the intoxicatingly soft scent ran through his nostrils. It was sweet and pungent all at once, and fear was the driving force behind it. Leaves glistened from the morning dew, and a magical aura flowed with the wind; he looked over to his left. He saw his brother there, hidden well. Just his deep brown eyes were visible among the leaves. He lowered himself and slipped silently through the foliage. Then he got the full force of the scent. The deer was there. It was nervous; its ears were twitching in every direction. Its dark brown fur was wetted down from the morning chase. It was trying to figure out if it was finally safe. The exhilaration of the hunt pulsed through his veins as he watched his prey. He slowly inched forward, remaining low, taking his time not to rush. They had been tracking this deer for miles. It seemed to elude them at every turn. He stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath; he wanted to savor this moment.
Suddenly there was a rush of sound. The leaves rustled, and there was a pounding of hooves. He opened his eyes quickly, seeing, with frustration, that his brother had become impatient. The deer was bounding over the undergrowth of the forest at full speed. His brother was close on its heels. If he didn’t do something quickly, they would lose the kill. He knew his brother was still too inexperienced and brash to catch this animal. He quickly took off; he would have to come in from a different angle.
They would never catch it otherwise.
He ran full out through the forest, the wind rushing in his face. Even though his brother had been impatient, he was still enjoying this hunt. He heard the chase off to his left, not far in the distance. Gaining ground quickly, he was almost ahead of them by running parallel to them. He started to turn in the direction of their sounds when a bellow shook the very trees around him. He knew that sound too well. It was the angry bellow of a bear and not a small one by the sound of it.
James
As he Chased the deer, he felt he was about to catch it. He had been so close. Then it had taken that sudden leaping turn. He hadn’t anticipated the deer’s movements and had jumped too late. He was so sure that his leap would have landed on the deer he would have claimed the kill. Instead, he had gone through some bushes, hitting something solid yet soft at the same time. That’s when he heard the deafening bellow. He looked up, seeing the gigantic bear looming over him. He landed on its back end, bouncing off. It turned to glare at him. Even on all four legs, the beast was huge to him.
Then it stood erect.
He had no idea what to do. He took a few quick glances around with just his eyes, too scared to move any other part of his body. Hoping to see if his big brother had followed. His stomach dropped when he saw he was alone. He hadn’t even realized that he had been slowly backing up. Unfortunately, where he had backed into was a knot of high roots. He hadn’t noticed earlier because he had leaped high over the brush, not seeing the roots. The bear lumbered towards him, swiping at the air with its large dagger-sized claws. To him, those claws seemed large enough to easily slice him in half.
The bear claws were more intimidating than even the size of the beast wielding them. It was most definitely angry. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the looming beast, so he didn’t notice when one of his back paws slid in between two roots. Panic filled him instantly as he tried to pull his leg free. The surrounding roots trapped his foot in a perfect snare.
The bear approached, so it was only mere feet away from him. Its hot breath, even from such a height, washed over him, and he crouched as low to the ground as he could. Remembering that the smaller he made himself, the longer he might last. He hoped, no needed, William to arrive soon. When he had gotten as low to the ground as he could, his body shifted enough that he felt his paw spring loose. Then there was sudden movement behind the bear. William arrived, his chest heaving. His brother had raced to the rescue; he felt a flood of relief go through him. He did the only thing he could think to keep the bear distracted so William could act; he bared his teeth and growled. A sudden surge of bravery gripped him, evaporating his fear.
William
He knew that sound all too well; he had to hurry. James had become careless in his pursuit, allowing things to turn terribly wrong. Pushing himself to his limits, he raced forward; he knew that James couldn’t last long against a bear; he was still so young and inexperienced. He came to a sudden halt, quickly surveying the scene. His little brother had been backed into a tangle of tree roots and underbrush. He had nowhere to go. The bear loomed over him, standing on its hind feet; its dark brown fur bristled as it stood over James. It had to be well over eight feet tall. James was keeping low to the ground; that would only help for so long. At least he had the common sense to remember what to do. His bushy black tail was grazing the forest floor ramrod straight with his hackles raised. James bared his teeth, trying his best to intimidate the bear now that he had arrived.
He only had one chance to surprise the humongous beast; acting quickly with the bear’s back to him, he leaped against a nearby tree, using it as a springboard to launch himself onto the bear’s enormous back. After quickly sinking his teeth into the bear's hide, he dug his claws into its back to gain a stronghold; the bear howled in surprise and pain. Fortunately, James also acted quickly; he sprang at the bear’s legs, nipping at its knees. The bear twisted suddenly, knocking him off its back. He tore the flesh off the beast’s back as he swung loose. Hitting a tree hard, he heard something crack, but he had no time to worry about it. He fought his way to his feet, and he saw his little brother take a full-force blow to his side by the boulder-sized paw. James flew through the brush above the roots disappearing. His yelp of pain was cut off abruptly.
