MINE! [New World Book 8] (8 page)

The creature reappeared. Its wings flapped, its pointed talons curled as though fighting the storm. Beast and nature did battle in the air. The beast turned solid as it smashed, folded wings first into a solid cloud. Both cloud and beast burst into pieces and was gone.

“Did it die?” Becky whispered.

“No. It was reborn. So was the storm. At least that’s what some Tonans say. Personally, I have no clue. There is a memory that nags from my stepfather’s side, he was curious and was prone to acquire new knowledge. My bio father didn’t care. The memories are distorted, there and gone. And, Tonans lie, even to each other.”

“I think humans would call it a fairy-tale, or myth. But I’d like to believe it. Simply disappearing after death sounds so sad. Like living was meaningless. Learning, earning wisdom your entire life only to have everything you know die with you. It would be nice to have the knowledge of my ancestors in my mind. I suppose humans leave, left and will leave again, their mark on history remains through artifacts and paintings, no matter where we end up. Then again, part of the aspect of being human is the intriguing wonder in putting things together. I guess that’s why so many enjoy puzzles. Except me. Puzzles are a pain in the ass and if one piece is missing, it totally screws it up.

“My dad liked puzzles. He could solve any kind of dilemma. When the world fell apart, he didn’t panic, he said life was an adventure. He had one adventure too many.”

Her words trailed to a whisper. The battle in the sky calmed. The rain continued to fall, but the smell was different. She swallowed hard. The scent of the rain was a reminder of when her father fought his last battle, and lost. The color grey brought so many memories to the surface. For a moment, the dampness on Huck’s hand warmed and she relaxed. Remembering her father caused her so much pain, and that made her furious. She wanted to recall the fun, the happiness.

“Maybe there is truth to myth, some, I think. Not sure though,” Huck stumbled over the words. She could tell it was his strange way of trying to make her feel better.

His attempts at truths were admirable; she sensed it wasn’t from concern of a tail. The idea was odd, but his touch made him seem thoughtful. Whenever he touched her, strange emotions swirled within, and she wondered if Tonan skin was a drug.

Huck pulled her further into the cave. Becky gazed around. The entire interior was a soft yellow. Stalagmites and stalactites near the opening resembled fangs; the pointed tips were blood red. They were in a cave leading to caverns and hollows, some tunnels led left and others right. Inside the caverns were intricate drawings when she moved to inspect the walls. There was something alluring about the markings.

Becky went to stand near a glowing black design that caught her attention. The image swirled in a circular motion and shapes formed. For a moment, she thought letters would appear but the lines changed color and grew larger surrounded by a dull mist. She was intrigued as the mist settled near the ground. Soon a story was unfolding of a pair of lovers meeting, giggling behind hands, under a huge mound of vines. The vines spread back with a flourish inviting her to come inside and witness the metaphors. Enchanted, Becky followed in her mind. She blinked in wonder when the scene played out life-like. The beings were in front of her, not five feet and real. The sweet smell of the room where flowers sat tickled her nostrils. The pleasant warmth surrounding her dried the few rain spots on her shirt.

This is so real. How is this possible?

The couple were green in color, a beautiful vivid hunter green while their eyes shone florescent. Their telltale intimate parts were bathed in soft green highlights and when the male creature ran his hand over the female’s mound, shimmering sparks danced across their flesh. The greater the touch, the more lively the light show.

Becky felt her face burn when the couple joined in a heated embrace, illuminated, exposed and so breathtaking. Their lips sizzled red as they pressed together, their heat for one another so intense. She sucked in her breath as for a second their faces lit up, burning from desire. Passion on display while their actions told their story. She wanted to clear her throat to let them know they weren’t alone, but there were no sounds she realized. Becky was there and yet not. She was spellbound and unable to move to pull from the trance. She wasn’t afraid, simply mystified.

The couple floated as they loved, lifting higher, turning as they ground against one another. Tongues entwined, both beings were completely bald, thin, but heart stopping the way they gave of themselves. They were loving each other, their radiant glances bathed each lover’s face, shining their hopes and dreams. She could see the female’s question of children hover in the air, and the male laughed with his face, all smiles and nodded. Their happiness made Becky smile in delight. Her heart filled for them, young love, so sweet and innocent.

Beauty danced before her eyes as they loved. She filled with joy, hearing in her mind their laughter, their adoration. Magic, she witnessed the magic of becoming one with another. The female suddenly looked past Becky, terrified, and the couple crashed to the ground, parting. The male raised his hands in supplication, as if pleading for the female’s life, but she clutched her midriff and writhed for a moment before falling and settling; she lay still. All of her beautiful colors faded. Grey, she became the hated grey Becky loathed, making her breath catch. The little elfin creature’s ghost moved from her body and went to sit in a far corner hovering above the ground. Lost and alone she wept in silence.

The male raced to her prone body, not seeing the ghost she became and he gathered her close. Florescent green tears trailed down his cheeks. Becky knew his lover, his life was dead. The sheer weight of a heavy stone settled in her belly. Tragedy consumed her.

Anger engulfed the male; he jumped to his feet to face five males. The largest looked smug until the angered grieving male gripped a band at his wrist and tugged. The grieving male and the band hit the ground at the same time while an older male screamed in agony. Becky knew he was in anguish by his open-mouthed expression. The older male raced to the young male’s side and it was his turn to gather a loved one to his chest. The emotion of heart wrenching loss assaulted Becky. The pain in her chest shot daggers through her sides. She wanted to scream in outraged disbelief. The young male was dead, he had reached for the female’s hand as he fell, and in death they touched for the last time.

Becky stood waiting for his ghost to rise, and when he did her heart leapt. When he rose from his body, he didn’t go to the female. Instead, he went to the other side of the room, slumped and he, too, sobbed. They didn’t see one another.
Why can’t they see each other?
Becky wanted to scream at them to turn and face the other. She pressed a hand to her mouth and sobbed uncontrollably at the image. Love and death had hit her in the face and heart when she never expected it. The blow was recoiling.

“Becky?”

A hard grip to her arm and Becky was yanked to Huck’s chest. The scene before her faded until she stared at a blank wall. With an awkward motion, his hand trailed up and down over her head and hair. She clung to him as she sobbed.

“Why can’t other people allow love when it comes?” she whispered gaining control. “They were so happy.”

“Males and females of that species aren’t allowed to be together. It’s taboo. Males with males and females with females. It’s been like that forever. Males give birth to males and females to females. The father chose his son’s mate; he was off to the side while his father ran for his son.”

“You mean the shit smiling?”

“Yes. He would prefer his supposed mate dead to the shame and stigma of being mated to a male who would go against belief and tradition. It’s inconceivable he would want a female. Their offspring would be considered abominations.”

“The universe is perverted.”

Huck took her to a darker space and sat her down by his side, keeping her next to him. “Do you prefer females over males?” Huck asked.

“I haven’t been around other females in a long time.” Her words were thoughtful. She ground at the tears in her eyes surprised so many fell; she saw his chest glisten where her cheek pressed against him. She pulled back and ran her hands over her face. She resisted the urge to wipe his chest, to wipe her weakness from him. Becky took a deep breath fighting for composure while he waited for her response.

“I like women but not in a sexual way. Women can understand other women better sometimes with certain things. Then again Ray was easy to talk to and he preferred women over men. We talked a lot until we met up with the others. He changed, as though he had to be manly. Funny thing was before we met the others, he was manly. He was strong and funny, caring. Safe, Ray was safe. He felt the need to be rude and rough on the shuttle to fit in. He will never fit in with the others. Ray’s too much of a man.”

“You think a male should be caring and not rough?”

“Depends on the situation.”

“I’m a warrior.”

Becky sighed. “I believe you’ve mentioned that, about a zillion times.”

Huck traced the wetness on his chest, his features intense. “You do know how to cry.”

“Of course I know how. I don’t like to.” She was annoyed.

“My shield says you were coerced into tears. The sadness is real but it wasn’t fair. You’ll have to be strong and keep away from the images.”

Huck’s fingers began smoothing over her shoulders and arms, and he turned her from the wall as it taunted and swirled from six feet away. She gazed at him and he seemed to be deep in concentration. He wasn’t hurting her, and she didn’t think he was trying to provoke a sexual response. His caress was gentle, sweet even. After a while he stopped and smiled.

“Is that a male’s touch? A man’s touch?” he asked.

“Yes, Huck. That is a man’s touch.”

“I think I can do this.”

“Have you been with a woman, a female before?”

“Of course.” He sounded offended.

“Didn’t they want a man’s touch?”

“No. They were Tonan females wanting sex, a male warrior, nothing more. They wanted strength, power to envelope them.”

“I don’t.”

Huck frowned. Becky curled up on her side away from him. For a second another spiraling picture on the wall caught her attention. Before she could be sucked into tragedy, Becky turned and buried her face into Huck’s chest as he lay down beside her.

With awkward movements, he pulled her closer. “Go to sleep, Becky. I didn’t realize how susceptible you are to the images. I don’t care that those on the wall died or how they died. In you, they find an emotional audience. Don’t worry about the others outside. This cavern keeps the other shadows out, the ones wandering the planet. If they come in, their stories will be imprinted on the walls forever. They won’t move on. In here, in death, they can’t connect. Tragedy calls to those outside, the ones who died in rage of betrayal. Until the betrayer can atone, the image is engraved for all to see as a life’s lesson. I’m not certain what other images you might be susceptible to. Your people have stories and books that should have lived forever. These beings had no such release. Their stories are written on the walls.”

“I hate it here.”

“Me, too.”

Huck sounded confused. He gazed for a moment at the hand touching her. He made a fist then opened his fingers and wiggled them. For a moment he trailed his thumb across her shoulder and sighed. His skin touched the last wetness of her tears against his chest.

“Now I know why I hate it here,” he mumbled. “We’ll leave tomorrow, Becky. There must be somewhere out there you don’t hate. Then again, at least you hate here more than me.”

He had a point. And at this very moment, she didn’t hate him at all and had no clue why.

When light streamed in from the cave opening, Becky shielded her eyes from the wall’s tattoos of depression. During the night, she had turned in Huck’s arms and her ass was pressed uncomfortably against his erection, a very hard and large erection. Through tight fingers, she could make out the movements of stick people forming into shapes to define alien beings recreating their injustice.

Tugging at her unwilling heart strings to mourn the beings, Becky tried to look away, she wanted to look away. Sadness called to her in imagery. A few small scenarios began and stopped, unable to capture her attention. Her mind was open and foggy with remnants of sleep and the single nightmare that plagued her dreams. The endless senseless depression battled within her thoughts of Earth dying. New shape took form no matter how hard she tried to conceal her hurt. A lone man battled a storm, surrounded in grey; grey skies touched the ground bathing his features in the hateful color. Becky’s breath caught, slick mud gushed around his ankles. Resolve in his features settled as he mournfully gazed in her direction. He gestured her to turn away while a sweet last smile graced his features and he was gone. Enveloped in tragedy.

Becky knew the story to be true, but her father wasn’t trapped here. His loving memory was hers, not this godforsaken place’s. The mudslide flowed down the smooth surface of the rock unwilling to set her mind free. Becky shifted from Huck; angry and quiet, her fury fueled her motion. Storming to the wall, she wiped her hand across the image, scattering the scene. The black particles relented and before her was an empty grey wall. Dark, miniscule dots hovered near the ceiling awaiting a new tragedy to write. For a moment she stood stunned. Her thoughts had manifested into words to form the picture of her father’s last moments. As if her hand was a blackboard brush wiping chalk marks away, she’d erased the images.

Concentrating, Becky stared at the wall overcome with vindictive smugness.
Write this story,
fuck head.
Happiness, times where her life was filled with love crashed within her thoughts. The black particles swirled, a tornado spun and exploded, then with defiance stilled. There were no tragedies to follow the memories of picnics, loving embraces, after which she fell asleep into sweet dreams. Her hand on the warm wall, Becky sensed anger in an inanimate object. Tingling flickered across her palm.