Black Bear Fall: A BWWM Paranormal Romance (Black Bear Saga Book 2) (16 page)

“It is ok to have doubts,” Nasak said turning to Frank, “we are not returning to the homeland to over throw the clan leaders. We are returning to show our family members who are left behind that we are still alive. We are going to walk into the centre of town and let one and all see the tribe of the mongrels, let them see that we shouldn’t be feared, that we are all part of the great white bear clan. Tannis is our key, without him the leaders would have us destroyed before we even set foot on their land.”

Nasak put both of his hands on Franks shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “This isn’t an invasion we are planning. It’s a reminder to all of the clan of our existence and the continued banishment of our kind. Mongrels are not second class citizens and we will show them all with a peaceful march through their lands. And if they don't accept us we can stand tall together knowing that we tried. Mongrel kind will prevail,” Nasak said squeezing Franks shoulders as the crowd around them erupted into cheers and applause. Even Frank gave Nasak a smile as he was caught up in the energy of the crowd as they began to chant the name of their leader again and again.

And if they don’t welcome us with open arms Nasak thought, we will kill every last member of the clan. The mongrels will prevail.

19
Grace & Anne

G
race stared
at the cracked and mottled ceiling above her bed. The night had been one of nightmare filled images of men with golden fangs chasing her down alleys with walls pressing in threatening to crush her. After waking for the third time in a cold sweat she had given up on getting back to sleep and so let her mind bob along the surface of a grey haze of exhaustion. For what seemed like the last hour, she had no real knowledge of what time it was, with no natural light and a single weak bulb illuminating the room, Grace had listened to Annes laboured breathing. It sounded like something was broken inside her, a creaky rattling with every inhalation as if her lungs were filled with broken glass. Grace had got out of bed and knelt by her friends side watching her face twitch and closed eyes dart as she breathed. She had held her cool and clammy hand, Anne’s fingers going rigid and then flexing as if she was digging herself out of a grave. The colour of her skin looked almost death like, if not for the twitches, she looked as if she had been embalmed. The tiny vessels under her skin pulsed a dark blue around her temples.

Back in her bed and lying on the thin straw filled mattress, Grace had let her mind wander, images of Tom kicking the door in and sweeping her up in his arms dominated her interior world until the creeping dread subsumed it and she started to believe that Tom would never find her and they would never get to be together again. Grace felt a tight ball of anger grow in her chest, anger at the world for dragging her into something that until a very short time ago she didn’t know even existed. So much for a prophecy she thought, I nearly died in that room today and if I have one more session I won’t be coming back from it. I’m no hero, how can anyone think that I am some sort of force for good. I just want to go back to my old life and how things where before. I wish I knew nothing about shifters, and secret clans, or prophecies. I want nothing to do with any of it she thought. Then an image of Tom smiling at her filled her mind and she knew she never wanted to wish away meeting him. She told herself to be strong and sat up and leaned against the wall holding her legs and resting her head on her knees. She could feel tears threatening to come and she told herself, I’m not going to cry, I have to be strong, I must be strong if I ever want to see Tom again.

Over time Annes breathing changed in timbre from a scratchy rasp to something closer to a regular sound. Maybe she is getting better Grace though looking over at her friend. If Anne can come back from her horrible injury, I owe it to both of us to be strong, she told herself. No matter what Grace tried to do to calm herself she could not rest and the thought of the sun rising and the coming day made her whole body feel the cold chill of fear.

Sleep overtook Grace eventually and she was falling.

The earth was cold and damp under her. Above the night was dark and filled with stars. A deep smell of vegetable rot filled her nose. She reached her hands out to her sides and her fingers sunk into soft soil. Something wet and pliable wrapped around her wrists and pulled her hands deeper into the muck. A bell rung far away and the sky changed from deep black to a hazy blue in an instant. She was in a pit with walls that stretched a hundred feet into the sky. Grace looked at her hands and thick pink worms were wrapped around each and burrowing into the soil and pulling her arms in deeper. The fleshy bodies of the worms undulated with a sickening squelching sound. Grace stared up at the patch of sky above and tried to free her arms. The more she moved the more she was pulled into the earth. She felt movement at her feet and two more giant worms wrapped around her ankles and held her in place.

She tried to scream and nothing but a dry croak came out. Grace thrashed about and the grip on her only tightened. Her arms were now fully extended, pulled into the muddy earth up past her elbows.

“Help me,” she tried to say and no sound came out. She could feel tears in her eyes.

I am in a grave she thought and then the first cascade of earth fell into the pit and landed across her stomach. The loose soil felt cold. Her whole body felt cold.

She knew what was happening. I am dying she thought.

The unseen force outside the grave sped up and earth poured in to the grave. Soon her whole body was covered and only her face was left exposed. “Don’t do this,” she cried and her voice was barely above a whisper.

The last clod of dirt fell through the air towards her and she held her breath. It covered her eyes and mouth. The pitter patter of more earth falling on top of her sounded like it was coming from miles away. Her lungs burned and Grace could feel herself being pulled deeper into the cool embrace of the earth by a force that was tugging at her deep inside. She couldn't hold her breath anymore and let go. Light rushed in to her body through the top of her head and she could see her arms and legs glowing and the light beginning to spread outwards and illuminate the darkness around her.

Everything collapsed around Grace and she was engulfed by chilling darkness, all light was blotted out and in the last moments she could feel the eyes of a half formed and snarling creature watching her.

The unseen thing made a sound like the rustling of a pile of dried leaves and Grace could feel its presence getting closer to her.

She gasped and her eyes flicked open. Her heart was hammering in her chest as the billowing threads of the nightmare floated away from her.

“Are you awake,” Anne said in a weak voice.

Grace breathed deeply as the images from her nightmare began to fade away. “I am. I was having a nightmare about being buried alive.” She said and paused to allow her breathing to slow down, “How are you feeling?” she asked in a groggy voice. Grace sat at the edge of her bed and stretched out her tired limbs. Her whole body felt stiff and bruised and her brain felt like it was experiencing a combination of the worst hangover and a sudden jolt of caffeine. Her mind felt alive and also mired in a web of throbbing pain.

“I can feel myself getting stronger. My wounds are knitting themselves closed as we speak. I think we might have a shot at this,” Anne said smiling. Her lips were still pale and a small amount of colour had started to come back into her cheeks.

“What does that feel like? I mean, healing so rapidly,” Grace asked.

Anne furrowed her brow for a moment and then said, “Its hard to explain. It feels completely normal if that makes any sense. The wound in my side, as it heals and the skin and damaged flesh knit back together I can feel a slight tingle and sometimes a burning sensation in the area. As it heals more the whole process seems to increase in speed until at the end it’s like a light switch coming back on, one second I can feel weakened and then flick,” and Anne gestured turning a switch on with her finger, “I feel a hundred percent again. It can be a little maddening for my husband sometimes. I’ve seen him with a bad cold and it seems to drag on for a week or two. The few times I’ve been sick the symptoms can be gone in as little as an hour.”

“Do you get the same diseases as humans,” Grace asked getting up and stretching her legs. It felt good to be moving again and she could feel some of the hang over like effects begin to fade as she paced back and forth.

“We are immune to a lot of the things that make you sick. There are some shifter specific diseases, somewhat similar to your influenza. Most of the time we shake it off in about an hour, but that hour can be hell,” Anne said laughing.

“I’d be happy to suffer through the flu if it only lasted an hour. I’ve had it a couple of times and its a pretty hellish two weeks,” Grace said.

“I’ve seen my husband with it and it looks like a terrible thing to catch. Those kinds of diseases seem to be few and far between for us. For all I know we are actually catching things all the time and our shifters immune system fights it off before we have a chance to feel anything. Actual injuries like broken bones or cuts can hurt us, and depending on the strength of the shifter the healing time varies. There are tales from our past of some of the strongest of our kind surviving beheadings. The old story goes one of our bravest and strongest warriors was cornered while shifted into a bear. His attackers were twenty strong and armed with guns, spears and bows and arrows. They cornered him and peppered his hide with poison tipped arrows. This only seemed to anger him and so they men who were armed blasted him with musket fire, followed by a barrage of spears. Once the smoke cleared the bear made one last attempt to escape, killing five men in the process. The odds were too much and his injuries sustained too many with no time to run and heal. The surviving men managed to rope the shifter and staked him to the ground. They then cut off all his paws while he roared in pain, and then finally decapitated this most fierce of warriors. Usually the men would of kept the head and the pelt as a trophy but they all believed that the beast they had fought was possessed by an evil spirit and no one wanted anything to do with it. They dug a shallow grave, salted the body and buried it. The men then studded the grave with religious symbols that would stop any evil escaping, or so they believed,” Anne said.

“Is that what they thought they were dealing with?,” Grace asked, “some sort of demon from hell?”

Anne nodded her head and let out a pained groan as she sat up. She put her hand up to show Grace she could get up on her own. “Through the years we have been mistaken for all sorts of mythical beings, ghosts, goblins, demons, you name it. So these men covered the grave site with symbols they believed would stop the demon from every returning. The legend goes that the great bear warrior was able to heal, even though his body was hacked to pieces. The men had made a mistake by burying all the parts together. When he healed and rose from the ground he hunted down every last one of the men who had tried to slay them and killed them in the most vicious of ways,” Anne said.

“Do you believe the story?” Grace asked.

“No, not really. It’s a story we got told to as kids. Something to display the indomitable spirit of the shifters that had roamed the earth before us. I always wanted to believe it, that we could come back from something as severe as dismemberment. Who knows where these stories come from, maybe there is a grain of truth to it and it gets exaggerated out of proportion as the generations pass it down,” Anne replied.

“We have similar tall tales too, although ours have less of a chance of being real. If someone told me there was a secret race of flying shifters, after all I’ve seen the last few weeks I’d totally believe them,” Grace said sitting back down and rubbing the muscles of her legs.

“How do you know about them?” Anne said with a perfectly straight face.

Grace looked at her friend for a beat and then burst out laughing. Anne joined her and then winced and clutched her side still laughing. “Too soon,” she said smiling.

Anne got up and walked with a limp to the cell door and ran her hands across the painted metal surface. “Solid steel and reinforced,” she said turning to Grace, “no chance of busting through it.” She pressed her ear against the door and listened and then crouched to the keyhole and peered through and then sniffed. “Key hole is blocked I cant see anything. I can hear what sounds like three to four men near by. A radio is on and it sounds like they are playing cards. I can smell something cooking. I think we might be close to the guard quarters,” she said and sat back down on her bed.

“Do you think thats all the guards? Grace asked.

Anne closed her eyes as she listened, her shifter senses picking up more than Grace could ever perceive.

“It sounds like the guards are the only other people in the building. The rooms around us all sounded empty,” Anne said.

“So whats the plan,” Grace asked.

Anne ran her hand along her bandaged side exploring how she was healing and said, “When they come to fetch us in the morning do nothing. Act weak and exhausted, as soon as we get outside the cell I will shift and take out the two guards. Hopefully I can dispatch them before the other two arrive. Once all of them are taken care of I’ll catch up to you. When I tackle the first two guards I want you to run and get out of the building as quick as possibly, don't look back. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Should I not stay and try to help with the guards,” Grace said.

Anne laughed and nodded her head and said, “I like the sentiment but you wouldn’t have a chance against those brutes that brought us here last night. You get out of here fast. You go back the way we came as that is the opposite direction to the guard quarters. Once you get outside you book it as fast as possible away from this place. I’ll be right behind you.”

“But,” Grace said trailing off.

“Look,” Anne said in a stern voice Grace had never heard before, “the odds are stacked against us. We have one chance at this. Please promise me you won’t hang around. I can take care of myself. You run as soon as you get the chance. Deal?”

Grace nodded her head and said, “Deal.” She got up from her head and ran her finger along the cold steel of the heavy duty door.

“Do you have any idea of what time it is?” Anne asked her.

“It could be close to morning. I think I drifted in and out of a light sleep for a few hours,” Grace said leaning with her back against the door.

“I think you’re right. Judging by how much my healing has progressed it feels like it could be early morning,” Anne said shrugging her shoulders, “apart from that I couldn’t say. All we can do now is wait and rest.” Anne lay back down on her bed and closed her eyes.

Grace stayed at the door sniffing the air. Is that a steak I can smell cooking she thought to herself as her stomach rumbled. It doesn’t matter she thought as she sat back down on her bed feeling another dark cloud surround her. Lying back down and closing her eyes she tried not to think too much about plates piled with fries, a juicy steak and a cool glass of beer. Stop doing this to yourself she thought as her stomach made an even louder noise.

The two friends lay in silence not knowing how much time was passing by until Anne sat up and said, “Someones coming our way. Keep calm.” She lay back down on her bed and closed her eyes. Grace lay still in her bed her eyes transfixed on the grey metal slab that was a portal to the outside world. A metal hatch slid open at the top of the door and two eyes stared in looking at both women.

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