Flight of the Golden Harpy (36 page)

“Something must have happened. Looks like everyone left in a hurry,” John said and landed at the vacant airport. Every hovercraft was gone. A man ran out of the large airport building and frantically waved and yelled to them. A woman holding a small child followed him as they raced toward John’s hovercraft.

“Take us with you!” yelled the man. “Please, for God’s sake.”

John stepped out of the hover. “What’s happened?”

“A swarm! It’s coming from the northeast,” the man said, out of breath. “There’s not much time.”

“Get in,” John said. “I can’t take you far. My hover won’t hold this many people.”

The man climbed in and the woman sat on his lap. Kari reached for the child. “I’ll hold him,” she said, and the woman placed the one-year-old in her lap. The hover lifted off.

“Can you pilot a hover?” John asked the man.

“I’ve flown small ones,” the man answered.

“With any luck, I’ve got a hovercraft here. We’ll be sitting ducks for a swarm with this load.” John veered his hover south along the river. After several miles, they came to a warehouse district, and John spotted his stolen orange hovercraft with
TURNER
written on the side. It sat in a large lot in front of a dilapidated warehouse. He landed alongside it and got out to inspect the craft. The man followed him and watched John pushed the start button. The engines fired up.

As her father spoke to the man, Kari gave the baby back to the mother and climbed out. She walked toward the warehouse and could immediately smell death and feces. Walking inside, she choked and gasped. Her eyes watered when she stared at the two dead harpies. Their throat’s slashed, their wings and testicles sliced off, they lay in a bloody mound on the floor, no longer resembling their beautiful race. She cringed, thinking of Shail, and that he was held in the filthy place. The floor was covered in blood, rotting food, garbage, and animal waste. A large bloated lizard lay dead in one of the remaining cages. Smaller animal corpses rested against the walls. By the bunks were numerous liquor bottles and rags. The place spoke volumes about what kind of men held her beloved Shail captive. She jumped when Charlie touched her shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Charlie said quietly.

She nodded and trailed him outside. The family was seated in the recovered hovercraft, and John stood by the pilot door.

“Okay, you think you can operate it?”

“Yes, Mr. Turner,” the man said.

“Now follow the highway west past Westend. Ten more miles, and you’re at my estate and mill. Tell my housekeeper, Maria, I sent you and to put you up. The mill is secure from a swarm attack. You’ll be all right there.”

Through the open hover window, the man grabbed John’s hand “Thank you, Mr. Turner. You saved our lives.”

“Just get going,” John said and returned to his hover. Kari and Charlie already sat inside. John jumped in and started the engine. Simultaneously, both hovers rose from the ground. One veered west toward the protected mill while the other swung east toward the unknown.

John forced the hover high and glanced north along the river. In the distance, he saw the giant black mass. He steered the hover to the southeast. “If they swarm, we’re in trouble,” he said nervously. He saw the beetles take to the air. “Sweet Jesus, here they come.” The swarm was heading toward their hover, but when it approached Terrance, the swarm settled on the little town; the multicolored buildings turned black.

Kari stared out the window as the hover traveled farther and farther away from the obliteration. “I wonder how many people didn’t make it out.”

“I think most of them got out,” John said. “The man said the large hover flights came early and evacuated the entire town. His vehicle stalled, and he and his wife had to run for it. They didn’t see other people on their way to the port.”

*   *   *

The rest of the morning, John, Charlie, and Kari traveled in silence, observing the ever-growing barren areas, the trademark symbol of a swarm attack. At noon they set down on the highway near a small bridge. From the stream flowing beneath it, John filled water containers and stretched from the tiresome journey.

“Should have brought some food,” he said to Charlie and glanced around. “Where’s Kari?”

“She went into the jungle,” said Charlie. “She will be okay, John.”

A few minutes later Kari returned to the hover carrying two large roots. She broke one open with a rock and handed a piece of the fleshy orange food to Charlie and her father. “Try these.”

The men bit into the sweet root. “This is very tasty,” Charlie said. “Your mate taught you well.”

Kari glowed. “He did, Charlie. Shail could even teach you a few things.”

John lowered his head and exhaled uneasily. “We need to get going.”

*   *   *

John journeyed east following the highway. In the afternoon dark clouds covered the sky, and he hit light showers of rain. Charlie offered to pilot the craft, giving John a break so he could drive through the coming night storms.

Kari was in the front passenger seat next to Charlie, and John slept on the cramped backseat. She had hardly spoken to Charlie since her return.

“You didn’t tell me the whole story when you met Shail a few years ago,” she said.

“The whole story?” Charlie asked.

“You spoke to Shail and told him I was in the stars but would return when an adult and free of my father.”

Charlie cleared his throat. “I did tell him those things. He flew down on the path and pawed the ground with his foot and had the look of asking in his eyes. He obviously sought you. The golden saved your life and deserved to know where you were, but like your father, I hoped you had forgotten him. I have nothing against the harpies, but they live a short, dangerous life. When your mother died, it nearly destroyed your father. I didn’t want the same for you, but now we are racing to Hampton, and I’m worried. If Shail dies, will you, too, be destroyed?”

“I don’t know, Charlie, but I am like Dad. We have no regrets, bonding with our harpy mates. Like the old saying goes, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

John had been listening from the backseat. He closed his eyes. She was right, he thought.

*   *   *

Night and the sweeping thunderstorms descended on the continent. Kari lay in the backseat, and the strong winds rocked the hovercraft. Shutting her eyes, she hoped that Shail would come in her dreams, but she considered he might be drugged, preventing dream telepathy, or perhaps he didn’t want her to know the terrible cruelty he faced.

She pulled up her legs and held them with her arms, lowering her head, and recalled how he had curled his body around hers, nuzzling and faintly kissing the back of her neck before covering them with his wing. God, she missed him. A tear coursed down her cheek.

John steered the hover through the waves of rain, and Charlie dozed in the passenger seat. In the vast darkness, John spotted an obscure light in the distance. “I’m going to set down ahead,” he said, waking Kari and Charlie. Approaching the light, he saw a small inn with two hovercrafts and numerous terrain vehicles parked out front. “We’ll take a break, and maybe get something to eat here.”

He landed his hover beyond the other transports. Making a dash through the rain, the three entered the inn lobby. A balding man greeted them from behind a counter.

“Good evening, folks. You picked a lousy night for travel.”

John approached the counter. “Is your restaurant open?”

“Sure is, and packed, but I have one table left. We serve the finest in native cuisine, but unfortunately our rooms are booked; half the folks here are sleeping in their transports.”

“That’s okay. We’re moving on after dinner.”

“You’re welcome to stay and use our parking lot for sleep,” said the man, leading them through a wide doorway into a cozy dining room. “The forecast predicts rain all night. You can eat a good breakfast and catch an early start in the morning.” He stopped at an unoccupied table.

“Thanks; maybe we’ll take some biscuits with us,” John said, taking a seat along with Kari and Charlie.

Kari glanced around at the thirty or more weary travelers who talked somberly among themselves. The people hadn’t come to the inn for pleasure, but were refugees fleeing the western swarms. Each conversation concerned the hardships ahead.

“Maybe we should go back to our home,” said a man at the next table to a woman. “The swarm might have missed Terrance.”

John leaned toward the man’s table. “Don’t go back. We saw the swarm hit Terrance this morning. There’s nothing left.”

The man, almost in a trance, stood up, and the woman buried her face in her napkin. “This man says he saw a swarm destroy Terrance this morning,” he announced to the people in the dining room. There was a hush, then sighs. Most of the people apparently were residents of the little town.

An old man feebly walked to John. His eyes were moist. “Are you sure, mister? Are you sure everything is gone?” he asked. His voice trembled.

“I’m sorry,” John said.

“I’ve lost everything,” he muttered. “A lifetime of work, my home, my store.” He slowly walked back to his table and embraced his elderly wife, and they sobbed.

John leaned toward Kari and Charlie. “This is just the beginning,” he said in a low voice. “It’s going to get worse.” They ate their food in silence and ordered food for the trip ahead. They were soon back in the hover and flying toward Hampton.

Kari gazed out the window at the distant lightning strikes, crackling and briefly revealing green and gray clouds in the evening sky. She listened to their distant rumbling. Normally she’d love the magnificent stormy weather, the kind of weather that made one feel alive, but for her, Dora had lost all its beauty since she lost Shail.

She thought about the brokenhearted people at the inn. None were malicious harpy hunters. They were simple people who struggled to squeeze out a living in the rough outback. If Shail was alive and freed, if he could save these people from the swarms, if a peace was made between the humans and harpies, if, if, if. Her head spun. Her mate held the keys to everything, but was there time to unlock and open the doors?

*   *   *

A clear, scarlet dawn greeted John as he steered his hover east. It was Thursday, and with any luck, they would descend on Hampton Friday night.

Charlie woke with the sunlight. “Want me to take over, John?”

“Maybe in a few hours.” He flipped on the com. A woman appeared on the screen. “Could you connect me to a new hunting range in Hampton?”

Kari sat up from the backseat. “You’re calling them?”

John nodded as a big man in a suit came on the com. “Simpson’s hunting range,” the man said.

“I’ve heard you have a golden harpy at auction next week,” John said. “I’d like some information and the date of the auction.”

The man gleamed. “I’m Bill Simpson, owner of the range, and you heard right, sir. We do have an exquisite golden male. He’ll be auctioned off next Monday night at seven and the public viewing takes place Saturday and Sunday with a general admission charge of ten credits.”

“I’m interested in purchasing him. What’s his condition?”

“He’s in excellent health with the fiery disposition the golden species is known for. His wingspan is just short of seventeen feet, but the feathers are consistent, undamaged, and still the creamy yellow of a younger male. They’ll make a beautiful mount. This little stud is guaranteed to give you a challenging hunt in our three-acre range. Can I take your name and add you to our list of bidders?”

“John Turner. I’ll be there Saturday morning to register in person.”

“Very good, Mr. Turner; I promise the animal won’t disappoint you in looks or action. He’s the perfect rare trophy for a serious game hunter.”

John turned off the com. “It sounds like he’s okay.”

Kari huffed. “It’s degrading the way that man talked about Shail, like he was merchandise.”

“To these people he is merchandise, Kari,” John said. “We’ll see him first thing Saturday morning, but you have to hide your aversion as well as your love for Shail. You can’t act like you know him. Too many hunters could guess you’re his harpy mate. If there’s trouble, I could lose my chance to bid on him. God knows what Shail will do when he sees you. He may go nuts. It’s almost better if you didn’t go.”

“I’ll be calm, Dad, and I’ll tell Shail he must be the same.”

*   *   *

Thursday remained relatively quiet. John slept on the backseat, and Charlie and Kari took turns flying the hover. They noticed more and more vehicles on the highway, traveling toward Hampton. The rain came in the afternoon and continued all night.

John flew the evening shift and worriedly watched the solar charge on his hovercraft. The all-night flying and the daytime overcast skies weren’t helping the engines regenerate power, and the little hover wasn’t built for the long, nonstop trip. When morning came, he landed by a small store and told Kari and Charlie that the engine needed recharging in the bright sunlight. They ate and hung around for a few hours before moving on.

At night John breathed a sigh of relief, seeing the glow of lights filtering up from the horizon. Hampton was within reach, and the trip across the continent was at an end. They flew over the city and landed outside the giant spaceport among numerous hovercrafts and starships. They climbed out, and John and Charlie unloaded their bags. “I’m going to look for Ted,” Kari said, and walked toward a port employee under a small spaceship. “Do you know Ted?” she asked. “He works here.”

The man pointed. “He should be two lanes over, working on a green freighter.”

Kari walked through the lanes and spotted the freighter. Ted was on his back, fixing the landing skid. “Hi, Ted,” she said.

Ted jumped up, hitting his head on a beam.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine,” he stammered. “In fact I’m great, just glad to see you.” They talked briefly about Kari’s journey.

“Are you going to see your harpy tomorrow?” Ted asked.

“Yes,” Kari said. John and Charlie joined them and she introduced them. John shook hands with Ted and apologized for his rudeness on their first com communiqué.