Derek Barton's Blog, page 19
February 6, 2019
Audible Book Review of James Patterson’s “Never Never” — Derek Barton
Never Never
by James Patterson & Candice Fox — a Thriller-Suspense Mystery
Released on January 16, 2017 — 370 pages
Narrated by Fereday Holmes
I have been for over a year now getting Audible books so I decided I would review and share my opinion on some of them with you. Enjoy!
I have a small confession: this is actually the first book I have read from James Patterson. I know that he is an extremely prolific writer, but until recently I just did not have the opportunity to read much. I still don’t, but that is the beauty and power of buying audiobooks. It gives you the time to do other things like drive around for errands, vacuum the carpets, mop the floors, etc. Anyway, I am really glad I got a chance to read this one.
The Synopsis:
Never…
assume you know someone. Harry Blue is the top sex crimes investigator in her department. She’s a seasoned pro who’s seen it all. But even she didn’t see this coming: her own brother arrested for the grisly murders of three beautiful young women.
Never…
accept a reassignment to the middle of nowhere “for your own good”. Harry’s been sent to a makeshift town in a desolate landscape – a world full of easy money, plenty of illegal ways to spend it, and a ragtag collection of transient characters who thrive on the fringes of society. A place where little grows but evil flourishes.
Never…
trust anyone. Looking into a seemingly simple missing persons case, Harry’s been assigned to a new “partner”. But is he actually meant to be a watchdog? Still reeling from the accusations against her brother, Harry can’t trust even her own instincts, which she’s never doubted…until now.
Never…
go anywhere without leaving a trace. Far from the world she knows and desperate to clear her brother’s name, Harry has to mine the dark secrets of her strange new home for answers to a deepening mystery – before she vanishes in a place where no one would ever think to look for her.
Never Never is an edge-of-your-seat thrill ride with enough intrigue and suspense to keep you guessing until the final minute. You’ll never be able to turn it off.
The Review:
While I thought the hook of a sex crime detective not knowing her own brother was a serial killer was intriguing, the main story arch for the novel turned out pretty engaging as well. The uranium mine setting was unique, but from other articles that I have read, the details of its size and population were farfetched and very inaccurate.
The story revolves mainly around the hard-as-nails female detective, Harriet Blue and how she perseveres with the stress of her brother being arrested then portrayed as a sexual serial killer all over the media.
While this should have been the main storyline, instead it is the story of her investigating missing miners in this uranium mine in the middle of nowhere. I liked the storyline, but it did feel a little “bait-and-switch”. Another complaint would be that it was never clear in my mind — the locale was not fully painted in my mind.
The characters are complex and varied. Harry’s personality, though, was too mixed for me. One moment strong and feisty, next confused and weak. I would like her depiction one way or the other. On top of it, she was a horrible judge of character ESPECIALLY FOR A DETECTIVE! HA!
Intense action sequences, good dialogue as well as some unpredictable plot twists certainly makes this a fun read. I will be getting the next novel in the Harriet Blue Book Series.
The Narratio n:
Federay Holmes — Here I usually include a picture of the voice actor, however, there were none to be found anywhere on Amazon, Kindle, IMDB or Audible.com. Not sure why no images exist.
Born in March 1968 in Australia as Sarah Federay Holmes.
She’s listed on IMDB.com as a bit role actress known for television shows New Tricks (2014), The Widower (2013), and Oranges and Sunshine (2010).
She did a great job on this project and her British accent definitely added to the Australian atmosphere of the novel. I would say her performance is one of the main reasons I liked the novel. Ms. Holmes has over a dozen different novels to her credit including Me Without You, Like A House On Fire, and The Devil’s Staircase.
The Rating:
Some flaws which I am willing to overlook as I liked the story and characters and want to know just what is the story around brother… I would RECOMMEND this series starter novel.
By Derek Barton — Author of ELUDE: PART ONE, ELUDE: PART TWO (horror/crime thriller), & In Four Days: a Horror-Suspense Novella. Also the Dark Fantasy novel series Consequences Within Chaos and The Bleeding Crown.
February 1, 2019
THE HIDDEN — Chapter 25: REUNION — T.D. Barton & Derek Barton
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: REUNION
Reflected light from the bath danced crazily across the ceiling, and Zelda watched it, abstractly, remembering the times she had spent with Nate. She thought back to when they first met: She was playing Fiona in a small-time production of “Brigadoon.” It was summer stock theater, in a North Chicago suburb called Palatine — very little, pay and even less prestige. On the last night of rehearsals, some of the cast members pooled their money to charter a bus into the downtown area for an impromptu sightseeing tour. She was conscripted to act as a guide, due to the fact that she was most familiar with the city. Although she was tired that night, due to endless rehearsals and hours spent memorizing lines, she agreed to go. She had become genuinely fond of most of the other actors, and, to be honest, a night in the city did sound like fun.
Several of the passengers on that little bus excursion had brought along their choice of alcoholic beverages, and at one point, someone decided they needed to stop and buy “munchies”. When the bus chugged into the lot of a small grocery store, everyone piled off at once and made a mad dash for the chips and snacks aisle. Zelda, remembering Fiona’s figure and the size of her costume, bypassed the snacks and opted to peruse the fruit and produce section. While selecting a ripe red apple, she found herself returning the smile of a young clerk who had been watching her since she entered the store.
His smile was quite charming, with the right blend of shyness and confidence, and she loved the way his bangs drooped down over one eye, forcing him to cock his head slightly and peer around them.
He walked boldly over to her and they began to talk. His manner was easy and sure, and he had a way about him that reflected a kind a gentle spirit. She was in love even before she knew his name. Sometimes love happens that fast, but it is rare. It is even rarer for love to last as a long and remain as strong as it had for the two of them. Their first dates had been simple. He came to almost every one of her performances. She would meet him after work or on her nights off for long walks in the park. Before long, they were spending every day together and, although neither of them spoke it aloud, they both knew they were in love.
One evening, they had planned a walk in the park, but when the rain came down in sheets, Zelda called him at work to say she couldn’t make it. He sounded disappointed, but understanding and they promised each other to meet the next evening. As the hours went by, she tried to concentrate on her studies, but the image of Nate, walking home alone in the rain, kept returning to her mind. She was restless and unfocused. Finally, at ten o’clock, she called his house to ask him to meet her, and damn the rain.
His father answered the phone and told her Nate had taken the elevated train to Palatine to be with her. “He moped around here like a wino on Sunday for a couple hours,” Nate’s father said. “Until finally, I tol’ him, I said, ‘Natey Boy, you ain’t gonna be happy till you see that girl. Why’nt you go visit her at her place?’ So that’s what he did.”
Zelda thanked her future father-in-law and grabbed her coat and raced, through the rain to the platform. When Nate got off the train, she was there to greet him, and they were both soaking wet as he took her in his arms and asked her to marry him. He said he couldn’t live without her and she knew — had known all along — that she felt the same.
And now, she was going to have to learn to do that — get along without Nate. In fact, she was going to have to learn to get along without just about everything. Her friends, her family, her life, as she had known it, was about to become a thing of the past. The curtain had fallen on her past life and for act two she was center stage, all alone.
Her thoughts turned to little Susie, lying, broken and bleeding, somewhere at the bottom of a cold dark well-shaft. It was September, and the little girl’s only concern should have been starting back to school and what she was going to wear to impress the little boys. She should be looking ahead to the holidays with their decorations and traditional songs.
There was a soft sound from the doorway and Zelda stiffened. “Chirkah?” She trembled at the thought and turned slowly to face the door. Her wide eyes relaxed, somewhat, when Alice stepped through into the light. In her left hand, she held a ball of string and wore an agitated look on her face. She stood, looking at Zelda and said nothing in the way of greeting.
“What brings you back?” Zelda asked, and she tried to smile. “Don’t tell me you’re a closet voyeur, looking for a cheap thrill?”
Zelda’s face froze rigidly in shock as a voice from the hall quietly drifted in past the torches. The tired voice was ragged and hoarse, but she recognized both it and the tune it sang instantly:
“I’m in love with a lady named Zelda Malone,
And I’m seldom alone when she’s near…”
It was an old Groucho Marx bit, but Nate never seemed to tire of teasing her with it. Zelda stumbled to her feet, feeling light-headed, and oddly disconnected. The voice had an eerie, ghost-like quality to it. And, of course… it should. Obviously, it was emanating from the grave, was it not? The strain of her ordeal must have pushed her over the edge completely, and now she was hearing Nate’s voice, singing to her from the great beyond. It was all too ghastly to fathom.
She looked at Alice in disbelief. The woman beamed at her from the middle of the room, a stupid smile spreading from ear to ear. In the flickering light of the torches, she reminded Zelda of a grotesque Gypsy — a fat Madam, about to tell her fortune or go into a trance, acting as a medium for this “dear departed spirit”. After the day she’d had, she had no desire to commune with the dead, even if it was her late husband.
Angrily she challenged Alice. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded, and for a moment she thought she might lose control altogether, but the huge woman held up her hand and spoke.
“Whoa now! Before you go throwin’ yerself at me again, I think you better take a look at this.” She waved Nate on into the room and Susie stepped in behind him.
Tears sprang to Zelda’s eyes and coursed down her cheeks as she flew across the room and into her husband’s arms. He swept her off her feet and crushed her to his chest as he covered her face in hot, sweet kisses. She wrapped her own arms around his neck and locked them there, intending to never let him go again, no matter what danger threatened. The relief that rushed through her soul was like a cool, drenching rain, cascading down upon the smoldering remains of a forest blaze. She left it to wash over her, filling all the empty places hollowed out by despair. She held his kisses until her lungs screamed for air, and then, gasping deliriously, she went back for more.
Dimly, Zelda became aware of someone clutching at her legs and looked down to see Susie, desperately clinging to both her and Nate. Wild, ecstatic amazement filled her as she leaned over to embrace the little girl. A moment ago, she had given both of them up for dead; and now, here they were, alive and well and looking only a little worse for the wear. The three of them, united at last, held each other and whispered the words of endearment reserved for family and loved ones returned from the brink of calamity.
Alice had about as much of this as she could stand, and then decided to cut in. “Okay, you guys,” she scolded. “This ain’t The Love Boat. You better break it up and get your asses in motion. I don’t know how long, for sure, Chirkah and his buddies are gonna be out there howlin’ at the moon… LET’S GO!” She clapped her hands, loudly.
Nate and Zelda pulled back from each other and looked at her. “I thought they were dead,” Zelda exclaimed, her voice full of wonder.
“Right,” Alice said, brusquely. “YOU thought HE was dead… HE thought YOU was dead. I thought SUSIE was dead… WE’RE ALL GONNA BE DEAD AS HELL IF CHIRKAH WAKES UP AND COMES DOWN HERE! SO CAN WE MOVE IT?”
They stood their ground against the blustering woman and held each other tight. Zelda was looking at Alice with adoring eyes, but her face was clouded with confusion. “Why, Alice? Why are you suddenly helping us? I thought you had things figured out for yourself? You were going to go along with the Kophet-kur and their grand scheme. You were going to find a place for yourself in their world… I don’t understand. Why now?”
Alice’s face hardened. She walked slowly over to where the three stood and she looked into Zelda’s eyes. Her enormous body swayed, gently back and forth. Zelda could smell alcohol on her fetid breath. Suddenly her shoulders hunched and she looked away.
“When I came here,” she said quietly, her voice was very small. “… It was a long, long time ago… But, when I was first captured, they killed my husband…” Zelda saw a tear slip slowly along the big woman’s chubby cheek. “When they brought me…they stuck me in this SHITHOLE with the rest of these retarded BITCHES!” Her voice grew louder and angrier. “And they made me… When I first CAME HERE…” Her face was tortured with an inner agony such as only a woman can endure. “When I first came here… I… was… PREGNANT.” Her eyes locked with Zelda’s and their hearts communed.
“What happened to the child?” Zelda whispered, but, deep within, she knew the answer.
Alice looked down at the floor again, and in a voice flat as stale beer, she said, “It was a boy.”
She sniffled loudly and reached beneath her voluminous shift to retrieve a flask. God only knew where she had acquired it, but she was a resourceful woman. The flask was her prized possession in a world of few luxuries. She unscrewed the top and tossed back her head for a blast. For a brief instant, she had sloughed off her gruff façade, lowered her defenses and allowed Zelda a fleeting glimpse of the woman she had been prior to her capture by the Kophet-kur. But, just as quickly. She’d thrown up that curtain again and become Alice, tough, hard-bitten queen of the slave women. In that short time, when she had opened up, Zelda had not exactly come to love this tragic creature, but she had gained an understanding of what had driven her to such a state. Her heart was able to empathize with her, and she felt deep sorrow for her losses. For Zelda saw that she’d lost not just the child and her husband, but more than this, she had lost her sense of self — her ability to hope and dream — all understanding of what can make life worth living. Zelda felt a vague kinship with this woman dawning inside her as she realized that all Alice really required to set her back on the road to sanity was to herself be needed by someone.
“Anyway,” she said, and her voice had regained some of its old sass. “When Nate here made it this far and managed to kill that bitch, Lynette…”
Zelda shot a startled look at Nate who was absorbed in what Alice was saying.
“…I got to thinkin’ maybe I was on the wrong side, after all. Hell, they ain’t gonna let me outa here, no matter HOW nice you are to Chirkah. I was just foolin’ myself. No, the way I figger it, my best shot is to return to civilization…” Here she ducked her head to sniff her own underarm. “That is if they’ll have me.” She smiled her old gap-toothed grin.
“They’ll have you all right,” Zelda returned her smile. “We’ll see to that, won’t we, Nate?” She gazed lovingly up into her husband’s face. Without looking at Alice she spoke again as though in afterthought. “By the way, did I ever tell you, Nate’s a millionaire?”
“No kiddin’?” Alice asked, and her face lit up as the four of them left the chamber and stepped out into the dark hallway.
January 16, 2019
NOW ON PATREON! — Derek Barton
HEY EVERYONE! GREAT NEWS!!
I am now on Patreon.com! What is Patreon, you ask? It is a great way for you and I to connect and for you to get some fantastic and exclusive book and artwork content!
Long ago, painters sought out “patrons” to help them with daily living costs while they worked on contracts. Patreon is similar to this and offers a direct form of communication and trade between us.
By becoming a Patron, you get to read exclusive blogs, preview chapters, get ebooks ahead of market releases, obtain signed books, custom-designed metal bookmarkers, and even alternate, custom-made book covers of my books JUST FOR YOU!
Here is a preview of MY PAGE:
Of course, there is no obligation and pledges can be changed at any time. With your support, however, I can get you more of what your survey results asked for — More content, current updates, and better giveaway prizes! Also, I hope to use the support to get out and have book signings and conventions around the United States.
LET’S GET THIS JOURNEY STARTED!
January 15, 2019
For Hire — Derek Barton
NOW ANNOUNCING MY NEW “FOR HIRE” PAGE!! CHECK IT OUT —
Hi there!
Need a hand with your book cover?
Want an extra marketing ad created?
Can’t find time to draw up that poster showcasing all your work?
CONTACT ME! I WOULD LOVE TO HELP YOU AND TOGETHER WE CAN MAKE MAGIC!
Premiums for work will depend on the project. Open to all sorts of work!
Contact me for details at Contact & Appearances Info.
My own Book Covers I have created:
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Example of Marketing Ads:
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You can also find me through:
Link for FACEBOOK: Derek Barton, Novelist
Link for TWITTER: Rivyen
Link for INSTAGRAM: Rivyenphx
January 14, 2019
A New Dynamic Approach to Achieving Goals — Derek Barton
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Back in July 2017, I started using a process centered around Bi-Monthly Goals. These were goals set up for a two-month time span. This worked reasonably well, but the main issue I had was that I was often too open or the goals were too far-reaching. Without breaking out the hows and steps to accomplish those goals, I had moderate success with them. With that said, I am ready to see if there are better ways to realize my dreams and goals.
The Bi-Monthly Goal System was introduced to me by a YouTube video. This new system is again a YouTube video. I have to say that the site really is a modern-day Oracle. Almost any question you might have, someone probably has done a video on it! I have been doing a lot of research on marketing and came across this new 90-Day Goal System.
Like the Bi-Monthly, you decide on your goals and work within the designated window of time. This goal system is introduced by author Sarra Cannon, an author of several romance novel series in which she’s sold over 750,000 copies! Her method of goal-setting is reviewed and discussed in a video marked How To Make 2019 Your Best Year Yet.
The essence of her system revolves around Main Goals, Projects, and Tasks. You set two or three “main” general priority goals to focus on. Then you breakdown those goals by deciding on Projects that will accomplish those general Main Goals. With each Project Goal, you detail and define what Tasks you are taking to get the Project finished.
Another aspect of her system is to be realistic in your writing plans. You will have days you are just not feeling up to working or you will have days where you are sick AND you will have days you will not write as they are on holidays. Everyone has 365 days in the year and there are the holidays in every culture that will interrupt your schedule. Plan for sick days, mental health days, and even relaxation or celebration days. Everyone has the same amount of time, but successes go to the people that make the best and most accurate plans for their time.
The other neat trick with the system is it gives you a chance to breathe. You know you want three or four books done by the end of the year. This method allows you to not worry about the other books and focus on the one — in the back of your mind every time you start to fuss about not getting to that book, you can relax as you know it’s already scheduled in the future and you already have a plan in mind. A lot of writers try writing more than one book at a time and this can and often diminishes the quality of both works versus if the author took one at a time and made them the best he could.
Two YEAR goals I would like to focus on are increasing site visitation as well as completing three more novels for 2019.
My MAIN GOALS are as follows:
Increase my site visitors by 25% = 232 visitors — (2018 1st Quarter’s results were 186 visitors)
Complete one of three books for the year 2019
PROJECT GOALS are as follows:
Goal to Increase Site Visits —
Three Monthly Giveaways
Two Book-signings
Weekly Blog Posts
Goal to One of Three Books for 2019 —
Write & Publish Elude Part Three
TASK GOALS to Increase Site Visits as follows:
Develop three unique site giveaways (signed book copies, amazon cards, audiobooks)
One Book-signing set in January (Superhero Saturday); call and set up another for February or March
Update each week a blog post (web sagas, goal-setting blogs, etc) for a total of at least 12 blogs in the 90 days.
TASK GOALS to Complete Elude Part Three as follows:
Complete Bullet Outline
Write the rough draft (30,000-word count left)
Go through 3 waves of edits
Cover & Blurb (already completed)
Publish on Kindle & Amazon by 3/31/19
Another aspect of Cannon’s 90-day Goal System is to construct a goal reminder whiteboard in her office. Her follow-up video is How I Create My 90 Day Plan and Use a Kanban Board to Achieve My Goals. Simply, she puts all her TASK GOALS on a single post-it note and organizes them into a “Get It Done” and an “Awesome Job” section. She chooses at the beginning of the week the tasks she wants to work on, placing them in the “Get It Done” section. Completed Tasks she moves them into the “Awesome Job” section — which, of course, is a great way to keep motivated, seeing all the tasks you completed through the 90 days.
I will be writing up a review blog and discussing the details and results of this 1st quarter. If you have any questions or want to discuss how you develop your goals, feel free to comment below.
January 9, 2019
THE HIDDEN — Chapter 24: THE GATHERING — T.D. BARTON & DEREK BARTON
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: THE GATHERING
Ghostly moonlight filtered through the trees, spotlighting the strangest scene Nate had ever laid eyes on. The clearing was filled with the dark, hulking bodies of the Kophet-kur. Adults of both sexes were gathered together. Their shadows stood out in stark contrast to the dew-frosted grass of the clearing. Scattered amongst the adults were young monsters — carbon copies, but smaller in stature. The smallest was about the size of a terrier dog and they ranged up from there, in stages, until they blended in with their parents.
Each member of the tribe regardless of size or sex was turned and oriented to give their fullest attention to the radiant white disc that was the moon. It was fixed in the blackness of that September sky, and it hung there emitting a light that was at once brilliant and yet cold in its vibrancy.
Nate and Susie watched from the bushes surrounding the clearing, careful not to show themselves or make any move to give away their hiding place. The only actual sounds were natural enough — the wind brushing its way through the treetops and the occasional calls of night creatures. And yet Nat’s mind was near bursting with the hellish caterwauling of these hideous beasts. The howling had grown constantly louder as they approached this clearing, but Susie had insisted there was nothing to fear.
Nate was amazed at how calmly she was taking all this. The howling had reached a maddening pitch, made even more unsavory by the odd fact that it seemed to be coming from within his own skull. He found the feeling to be quite disgusting. It was bad enough to think of the foul creatures lurking about in the dark and howling their fool heads off. But it was ten times worse to feel them crawling about within your own psyche, communing with their dark gods and conducting their unnatural worship. He felt as though someone with greasy, filthy hands was handling his most private parts and leering nastily up at him. The howling did not belong inside himself and he strove vainly to drive it from his mind. He covered his ears and shook his head violently, but it remained, screaming and yammering incessantly until he felt he would go mad.
Susie’s small hand gripped his arm and HE heard her whisper close to his ear. “Don’t dwell on it,” she said simply. “Relax and let it roll on by. If you don’t think about it, it won’t bother you so much. Just let it slip to the back of your mind like the sound of the wind.”
She sounded old beyond her years, and Nate wondered again at her grace under pressure. Nevertheless, he did as she suggested, and he soon discovered she was right. He thought about other things, avoided concentrating on the unearthly howls, and almost immediately the pressure within his skull began to disperse. It was like turning an antenna to avoid an unwanted signal. The sound was still there, but if he didn’t think about it, he could handle it.
Nate was reminded of the times in his youth when he had experimented with certain mind-altering drugs. Occasional bouts of paranoia were to be expected when chemically tampering with one’s perceptions, and the best way to handle them was to distract the mind and relax the body — just the way he was doing now. But how could Susie know this? She was far too young to have dipped into the old magic mushrooms or swallowed a couple hits of micro-dot acid. He doubted if she had ever even smoked pot. If she’d grown up in the city as he had, yes. Today’s inner-city youth had their own demons to deal with. An eleven-year-old crack-head was not uncommon on the streets of Chicago. But Susie was the product of this quaint, rapidly vanishing, country lifestyle. He could see it written all over her face. Still, she had an uncanny knack of dealing with these creatures and Nate was glad for her help.
Having gotten himself under control again, he focused his attention on the Kophet-kur and the clearing which housed them. There were perhaps thirty or more of the creatures, standing or sitting in various poses and all with their noses pointing skyward in salute to their moon-god. Nate was overwhelmed to see such a huge mass of these beasts and he wondered what he hoped to accomplish against such odds. Anyone of these animals could tear him limb-from-limb, Even the little ones would be dangerous. He could see their long yellow fangs glowing cruelly in the moonlight. And here stood the entire pack in a savage ceremony unlike anything glimpsed by man since the dawn of time.
Susie pointed, and Nate squinted through the darkness to see what looked like the mouth of a cave, or burrow, boring its way into the side of a hill. It was a low opening, the mouth of which was choked with briars and weeds. A huge tree lay on its side, its roots sticking up in the air like the toes of a fallen giant. The dirt clogging the roots formed a great mound and sheltered the entrance even more. Had Susie not disclosed it to him, Nate would never have seen the cave; nor, he decided would anyone else. The Kophet-kur were greatly adept at remaining hidden — of that, Nate was painfully aware.
There was nothing in the clearing that would indicate, once they had gone, that the ferocious beasts had even been there. Unlike human tribes involved in pagan worship, the Kophet-kur presented no wooden idols or totems. They danced no exotic rituals and wore no feathered costumes or anything of that nature. There were only the moon and the night and the animals themselves, standing solemnly in reverence to their god. The forest was their leafy cathedral and the haunting wind was their choir.
As Nate silently beheld this awesome spectacle, Susie suddenly jumped to her feet and, before he could stop her, she plunged through the underbrush into the edge of the clearing. Totally flabbergasted, he remained transfixed as the girl walked boldly out into the midst of these ravenous beasts as though she were choosing a picnic site in the park. His feet felt like they were filled with lead, and all he could do was reach out, stiffly, with his free hand and hiss through clenched teeth: “Susie! Get back here!” He thought she must have gone crazy and his blood chilled to think of what they would do to her if she interrupted their ceremony. Sadly realizing he was throwing away any chance he had of rescuing his wife, he leaped after her, brandishing his homemade spear and preparing for the worst.
To his amazement, however, the creatures took no notice of them at all, but stood, silent and still, as they had been before. Not one of the huge, shaggy, beasts turned to look at them. They remained in their rigid stances, muzzles lifted to the sky and eyes clamped shut.
Susie preceded him as they walked amongst the Kophet-kur, completely unmolested, staring at their ugly faces. Erect and passively immobile in the center of the clearing stood Chirkah. Unmistakable, even in the pale shadows of night, he towered over those around him, and plenty of space had been left vacant for him to stand, regally tall and straight. The iridescent moonlight robbed him of all color, turning his dark mane of fur into a gray mass, and casting bleak shadows which pooled at his feet. Even his normally smoldering eyes were closed tightly as all concentration was reserved for communion with The Fathers.
His dark face was set in an open-mouthed rictus, deep-set wrinkles creasing his muzzle where his lips pulled back in a perpetual snarl. His fangs were exposed and gleaming and his tongue, light gray color in the moonlight, curled up at the end, spasmodically twitching. A thick soup of drool had slithered down the front of his chest from his open mouth, and it dripped in streamers from his chin. He looked like a type of totem, himself, as he stood on his hind legs with his arms extended in an empty bear hug, his talons stretching out at the end of his paws to claw at the air. Nate was reminded of the stuffed exhibits on display at the natural history museum, except that those exhibits were old, dusty and lifeless. This one was vivid and alive and horrifyingly real.
He and Susie stood in the middle of the clearing and gazed in wonder at the statues of the Kophet-kur, fixed and unmoving in their transcendent state, and they were amazed. Each of the creatures was frozen in one of a variety of stances, some standing erect as Chirkah, but most were on all fours, squatting upon their massive haunches.
“How did you know…” Nate asked haltingly.
“I don’t know… I just felt it. When I came out of the tunnel, on the other side, there were three of them like this. At first, I was scared and I thought they were going to eat me, but…well…sometimes I can hear what they’re thinking. I mean…I don’t actually HEAR it — it’s more like I feel it in my head, you know?
Nate nodded.
“During the full moon, they concentrate totally on the communion, and they won’t hurt us now”. She marveled at the figures surrounding them. “It’s like… freeze tag! Only its really spooky!”
It dawned on Nate that this was the reason they had abandoned their vigil beneath the tree. They had no choice. If they were to arrive back at the clearing in time for this ritual, they would have to leave him in the tree and hope that he would either remain there, out of fear or make a complete fool of himself with his peers when he told his story. His mind flashed an image of the World News Weekly at the local grocery store. Its bold black headlines screamed, “MONSTERS DISCOVERED IN INDIANA CORNFIELD!” He pictured himself, on television, sitting, uncomfortably, next to Whitley Strieber, and a voice in his mind blared, “Fruitcakes with way-out stories nobody believes… This week’s focus on ‘GERALDO’!”
The Kophet-kur were compelled to make this ritual stance whenever the moon was full and sending its most powerful messages. The line was open to their ancestral home, and they must make the most of the limited time. Nate recalled the taunting words of Chirkah as he left the clearing beneath the tree: “Either way, I have won and you have lost.” Well, the game was not over yet… not by far.
Nate raised his spear before Chirkah, preparing to ram it home, but Susie stopped him. “You mustn’t!” she cried, and this time there was a real alarm in her voice. “They are in a deep trance, but if one of them is harmed, they’ll all wake up. This is the way they protect themselves.”
He blinked, stupidly at her, and struggled to make himself comprehend. Here, at last, was Chirkah, vile object of his loathing and hatred, defenseless before him, and he was unable to do anything about it. Could it be he was to be robbed of such an opportunity for revenge? Was she certain? Perhaps he should go ahead and disembowel the bastard and to hell with the consequences. He gazed into Susie’s limpid eyes, staring up trustingly at him. Reluctantly, he lowered his weapon.
With a sigh, he said, “Our best bet, then, would be to try to find Zelda and get the hell out of here before they wake up. Is she down there?” He pointed at the mouth of the cave.
Susie nodded. “I think so.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said, and the firmness in her voice told Nate there was no use arguing.
The darkness in the cave was absolute, and Nate flicked on the flashlight. Casting the beam about a bit, he discovered a cave of average size, certainly too small to house all the creatures standing out there in the clearing. Susie clung to his side as they walked on back to the rear of the cave. It was unsettlingly quiet here, the oppressive darkness even blotting out the sound of the wind from outside. The cursed howling of the Kophet-kur, however, remained strong and loud as ever. With a determined effort, Nate thrust it from his mind.
Slowly, deliberately, he scanned the wall at the back of the cave, letting his flashlight beam crawl delicately over every rock and fissure. The floor slanted at an impossible angle and they were forced to lean backward to maintain their balance as they approached the back wall. Nate was aware that they were going deeper and deeper underground with each step.
Suddenly a shadow swept through the beam and they jerked back in alarm. Nate was relieved to see it was only bats. They had swooped down from a large, dark, shadowy area to his left. Turning the beam in that direction, he discovered an opening that served as the mouth of another cavern. Without a backward glance, he and Susie entered, ducking their heads at the threshold.
The cavern they entered was not much larger than the one they had just quit, but it served as a sort of anteroom to a much larger chamber. Walking down three broad terraced steps, they peered out into a huge cathedral-like space with an immense domed ceiling. Nate shined the beam out into the center of the room, but it grew weak and petered out before reaching the other side, so vast was this cavern.
Bats fluttered and scurried about in waves across the roof of the place, and a stream gurgled through the center of the floor. There was no light, but the flashlight beam picked up huge stalactites which dripped down from above, in some cases joining with stalagmites below to form giant columns of gnarled limestone. Except for the distant sound of running water, there was a hushed, eerie quality to the room that filled their hearts with dread.
“This is the main chamber,” Susie informed him. “It’s where they sleep during the day and where they have their meetings. The slave chambers are over this way.” She took his hand and led him across the room. Although he sent the flashlight beam out before them, he felt she would have been just as capable of finding her way in the dark.
They followed the course of the little brook which flowed along quite rapidly, for an underground stream. The sound of rushing water grew louder as they continued, and Nate gasped in astonishment as his flashlight beam fell upon a huge, terraced waterfall which tumbled in a torrent down the far wall. There were several small pools, lined with rimstone, which caught the water where it cascaded out of the darkness. This mineral has a tendency to grow upward and inward as it builds upon itself, thus damming each of the little pools and forming a ladder effect as the water over-ran its basin to form another at succeedingly lower levels. The result was a “fountain” of glowing minerals, white as alabaster, and sparkling water glistening in the light of his flashlight.
The two stopped and marveled at the beauty of this sculpture, and Nate thought what a tragedy it was that something of this magnificence should be trapped here in the darkness all these centuries, to be viewed only by the cruel, glowering eyes of the Kophet-kur. He was certain that these pernicious beasts were absolutely incapable of appreciating beauty. His thoughts along this line, however, were cut short as Susie tugged insistently at his sleeve. Together they continued past the waterfall and across the stream. Susie was leading him in an unerring, straight line.
The floor of the great chamber was littered with refuse. Bones, bits of skin, excrement and other unnamable remains were scattered everywhere. The odor was nearly overwhelming and Nate felt the sausage he’d so hungrily wolfed down earlier crowding the back of his throat. He covered his mouth and swallowed hard. Here and there were patches of bare earth that had been tramped down smooth and Nate surmised they must be where the filthy beasts made their beds. At last, they reached another tunnel on the far side of the room. It stretched off gloomily into the distance and Nate could hear the wind whistling ominously along its depths. He looked at Susie. “Are you sure you want to go in there?” he asked.
“You don’t think I want to stay out here by myself, do you?” came her reply, and Nate smiled, weakly. “We will have to be careful, though,” she whispered. “There are guards.”
Delicate little tubes of stone formed by deposits of calcite clung to the wall near the mouth of the tunnel, and as he spoke, Nate absently reached out to feel one of them. It crumbled instantly at his touch, into a fine gray powder. He brushed his hands briskly together to remove the dust.
“All right, but I think we’d better figure some way to leave a trail so that we don’t wind up lost — here, hold this.” He handed her the flashlight while he unraveled a strand of thread from his bulky sweater. Paying it out slowly, he wrapped it around the palm of his hand until he had a good-sized ball of string to work with. He handed this ball to Susie after securing one end around a small stalagmite, jabbing up from the floor of the cavern like a scraggly tooth.
“As we walk, let this string play out behind us. If you run out, let me know and I’ll unravel some more.” Susie nodded, in the dark, and together they stepped into the tunnel, Nate leading the way.
They hadn’t traveled far in the darkness when they began to hear soft, scurrying sounds, which grew silent whenever they stopped to listen. Nate wielded the flashlight beam defensively ahead of them, but nothing was there. As they proceeded down the tunnel they both could hear voices, whispering, quietly, in the darkness around them. The voices sighed and reverberated, maddeningly, so that not a single word could be understood. The motive behind the voices, however, was obviously, undeniable evil. Nate had the uncomfortable feeling they were being watched — worse yet, stalked — by something lurking in the shadows along the walls. He began to feel as though he was in a dream — a nightmare, really — and he wished with all his heart he could wake up.
Nate felt the nails rake his back even before the blood-curdling scream registered upon his consciousness. He was shoved to the floor and found himself struggling to throw off the weight of some demonic creature which clung to his back, biting and scratching viciously. In the pitch blackness around him, a hodge-podge of sounds filled his ears. The shrieks of the demons were joined by Susie’s shrill voice screaming for help while other voices shouted and cursed.
“It’s a MAN!” one of them screamed. ”KILL IT! KILL IT!” hissed another.
“Get up, Nate get up!” cried Susie, her voice full of tears.
Nate heaved mightily and managed to flip over on to his back. The flashlight had fallen to the floor, but he could see the flashes of movement and glimpses of strange creatures scurrying about at the edge of the light. Suddenly, cold, dead fingers tightened about his throat and he could feel sharp claws digging into his flesh there. The grip was amazingly strong, and Nate felt his windpipe collapse as he struggled, vainly, to break free. Bright flashes of light began to swim across his vision as he poised precariously on the edge of consciousness. Something snarled in the darkness above him and he lunged up with all his might to head-butt it. With a cry of pain and rage that sent spittle and blood spraying in his face, the creature released its hold and he made a scramble for the flashlight. When he picked it up, however, they were gone. He heard footsteps padding down the corridor, but he was too late to illuminate the culprits.
Great gasps of air whistled across his bruised windpipe, dragging claws behind them. He coughed and choked spasmodically, trying to recover. Dimly he became aware of Susie, clinging to his leg and trembling. He stooped to cradle her and at the same time cast about for his spear. When he could breath again, he asked, “What WAS that?” And he strove to bring his quavering voice under control.
“Slaves,” panted Susie. “They’re crazy.”
Nate nodded in affirmation. “I’ll be more careful from here on out. You okay?” And then, as an afterthought, “Still got the string?”
Susie held up the ball of yarn and smiled.
From somewhere in the darkest depths of the tunnel ahead they heard an evil-sounding chuckle, and Nate’s hand clenched tightly around the shaft of his spear.
At length, they continued on, with Nate swinging the flashlight back and forth before them. Susie clung to his side with one hand while unraveling the yarn with the other.
The corridor was tall enough for Nate to stand erect, and it was several feet wide. Along the walls were several niches and grottoes where danger could be hiding. Each time they passed one of these spaces, Nate would send the beam in ahead of them and raise his weapon defensively while gathering Susie protectively in behind him. They continued on unchallenged, however, and, eventually, Susie whispered, “We’re getting close. The slave chambers should be right ahead.”
As she spoke, they rounded a turn in the corridor and a flickering light came into view. Torches lined either side of the tunnel and a group of bedraggled women stood in the doorway to a large chamber. Some of these women held torches and Nate noticed that many of them were obviously pregnant. Their clothing was of the rattiest in nature and they looked like they hadn’t bathed in years. He remembered the woman in the clearing and the look of quiet desperation in her eyes just before the creatures had mutilated her.
He stopped and held up his free hand, palm forward, in what he hoped would be a sign of peace. “I’ve come to help you,” he said, and his voice echoed down the hollow corridor. “I — We mean you no harm, I am searching for my wife. Her name is Zel–“
A chorus of shrieks drowned him out as the entire mob sprang forward, and bore down upon them. Nate took a couple of steps back, nearly stumbling over Susie; but there was nowhere to run so he braced his feet and stood his ground. The first slave to reach him bared her teeth, snarling like a crazed animal. Her nails were long and her gnarled fingers splayed wide as she launched herself head-long through the air. Without thinking, Nate pointed the spear directly at her stomach and her forward motion did the rest. She impaled herself on the weapon, the shaft passing completely through her abdomen and jutting out the other side. With a surprised grunt, she fell to the floor, taking Nate’s spear with her. Nate struggled to free it from her now limp body and looked up just in time to see another of the wenches charging in. This one carried a torch and she brandished it menacingly at his face. He ducked to one side, feeling the heat of the flame against his cheek and he smelled the odor of singed hair. As she swung again, he was able to turn the shaft of the spear in a manner that deflected the blow. At that moment the spear came free of the first woman’s body and he spun, swinging the shaft like a club, and cracked the torch bearer squarely across the bridge of the nose. She went down in a heap, tangling the legs of another woman who sprawled in the dirt beside her.
Nate didn’t have much time to catch his breath as one of the women landed on his back and began clawing at his face and neck. Her dirt-encrusted face rasped against the side of his head and he felt her teeth clamp down on his ear. He screamed and reached around to flail at her as yet another bore down on him from the front. His right foot came up and there was a sickening crunch as his boot slammed into her distended abdomen. As she sank to her knees, Nate’s right hand was able to finally gain a purchase on the hair of the demon clawing at his back. He bent and pulled with all his might, sending her sailing through the air and into the feet of several of the others coming his way.
Taking advantage of the moment, Nate looked around to check on Susie. There she stood, close on his heels, brave as ever. She clutched the torch one of the women had dropped and offered it wordlessly to Nate. Wielding this firebrand in one hand and the spear in the other, he whirled back around to face their attackers. Panic combined with fury to turn him into a force to be reckoned with. He charged forward to meet the women, a blood-curdling howl issuing from his bloody lips. As one, the women shrank back, many of them retreating into the chamber behind them.
When Nate saw this, he curbed his rush and halted before the few remaining slave women. Silence fell over the battlefield and the soft susurration of the torches could be heard amidst the ragged panting of the participants. Only a handful of women remained, and, as Nate waved the torch in their faces, he saw their features twisted by hatred and rage. He was thankful for his weapons, for he could see, from the women’s looks that, were it not for his spear, they would happily fall upon him and tear him to bits. At last, one of them stepped forward. Her nose was bloodied and swollen, and he realized she must be the one he had head-butted in the darkness down the tunnel. She was smaller than the rest, but she wore an air of leadership as she spoke for the others.
“You have come for Zelda,” she said in a voice that was oddly flat and emotionless. “She is not here. Go back to your world before we — or the Kophet-kur — kill you.”
Nate stood looking at her stupidly. “What do you mean she’s not here? Is she dead? What have you done to her?” The thought of Zelda becoming one of these God-forsaken creatures made his heart hammer, painfully, in his chest.
Lynette returned his gaze silently for a moment before she spoke. “She is in Chirkah’s private chambers,” she said flatly, and behind him, Nate heard Susie gasp.
“I have to go to her,” Nate insisted. “If you won’t tell me how to get there, then at least don’t try to stop me. I don’t want to kill you… I don’t want to kill any of you.”
“You may go in peace.” Lynette’s words had the sound of a final judgment. She tilted her head to peer around behind him at Susie. “Leave the little girl. She will be of no help to you where you intend to go, and we have a use for her in The Cause.” The gleam in her eyes was that of one possessed. It was echoed by the hungry glare haunting the faces of her followers. He thought that the demons of hell might greet newly arrived souls with just such a rapacious stare.
Nate reached around and pulled Susie in close behind him as he began backing away. “The girl goes with me,” he stated, firmly. Lynette made no answer but turned as if to go back into the slave chambers.
Suddenly, she whirled and hurled herself toward him. Her shrill, unearthly screech split the air and reverberated along the passageway as she raised her hand above her head and advanced. She brandished a crude knife, chipped out of a sharp piece of stone, and she aimed it directly at Nate’s heart. Nate was caught off-guard at first but recovered in time to slash out with his own, knife-tipped spear, slicing Lynette’s wrist deeply, and then burying it to the hilt in her throat. Blood gushed in a dark stream as she toppled to the ground at his feet. She rolled over on her back and clutched her wounded throat, kicking spasmodically for a few seconds. When, at last, she quieted down, her eyes rolled up to meet Nate’s and, in the light of the torches, he could see a strange serenity enter them like a veil. Then they locked straight ahead and the light went out of them altogether.
Nate snapped his attention back to the others, but this last death had pretty much taken the wind out of their sails. They backed into the chamber and stood to peer out at him curiously, as though they could not comprehend just what manner of a beast he might be.
Nate knelt beside Susie, who had buried her face in her hands and gathered her into his arms for an embrace. When her sobbing had quieted, he searched her face and asked her gently, “Can you lead me to where they are holding Zelda?”
She shook her head, slowly from side to side, and her fingers came up to nestle in her mouth. “I’ve never been there,” she moaned around them. “No one is allowed even near Chirkah’s private chambers. I would’ve been killed for sure.”
“It’s okay,” he told her, and he set his jaw determinedly. “We’ll just have to look around until we find them, I guess. Anyway, I think these slave women will leave us alone for now, and that’s something, isn’t it.”
She smiled, shyly and squeezed his hand.
“We’ve come this far together, I guess we don’t want to give up yet, do we? Of course not. Do you still have the string?”
A startled look spread over Susie’s face and she began to cast about in the dimly lit corridor for the ball of yarn. She must have dropped it during the scuffle. At last, she spied the mass of string and bent to pick it up. But, just as she reached for it, it went skittering across the floor.
Both Susie and Nate looked up to see an enormous, extremely ugly woman standing in the corridor behind them. She was as tall as Nate, and her body was so broad, in the dim light, it appeared to fill the tunnel. In one huge hand, she held the string they had been paying out behind them, and the wadded ball dangled from it, swaying back and forth.
“You looking for this, maybe?” Alice asked, and her face was set in a menacing scowl.
January 3, 2019
What’s your story? — Derek Barton
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With lots of willpower and a dash of good luck, I will be completing the two series, Wyvernshield and Elude, this year. So, with that said, I am deciding on future projects.
Are you ready for a new world to explore?
I have a simple 7 question survey that takes literally 2 minutes to complete. Can you help me out and share your thoughts? I am very interested in YOU!
CLICK HERE TO TAKE IT — THANKS!
December 28, 2018
From Start to Finish: 2018 — Derek Barton
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As everyone who happens to read these blogs know, I have been using Bi-Monthly goals to keep me focused, motivated and productive. Now since November, I have been a little non-plussed, to be honest with you. With very little book sales and only a few friends coming to book shows, it has made me question what to do next or what changes I can make to reach a bigger audience. I am not planning on giving up, just looking for new steps to take.
While I am still researching the internet and watching YouTube videos on marketing, I don’t have any new answers…yet, but in the meantime, I thought I would look back and see just what I have done this year and if I am happy or not with 2018.
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Works In Progress — Status as of January 2017
CONSEQUENCES WITHIN CHAOS AUDIOBOOK – This was still in the works, finalizing edits and mastering the audio quality. The final version was released and published on Audible.com on June 25. This was a fantastic first experience with audiobook production and I couldn’t be happier with the talent and skill my voice actress, Laura Richcreek-Morrison. She has been currently working on The Bleeding Crown! Voice actors like Laura and Charles Pendleton for my horror stories have taken my work to a whole new level!
THE BLEEDING CROWN – Four of my bi-monthly goals for January & February were to complete the 2nd waves of edit for the main body of work, complete the subplots for the manuscript (about 25,000 words), set up a marketing campaign (ads, etc) and start working on the book cover. All was finalized and the completed book was published on June 26th. (Side note: I didn’t realize June had been so full this year! ha). While sales have not been as plentiful, it has gotten a decent amount of 5 Star Reviews on Amazon. I personally cherish the book as my favorite child so far (Elude is close second though!). I have written almost 30,000 so far on the follow-up, Swimming In The Ashes (working title). That might be out by the end of 2019, but no guarantees.
IN FOUR DAYS AUDIOBOOK – In April, I connected with Charles Pendleton and we agreed to work together on my modern paranormal/horror story. He did a great job on it and we have seen some success with the sales on Audible. It was released in August. Charles is also already working with me on the Elude series so stay tuned for that!
ELUDE PT #1 & PT #2 – In January I was still working on the first wave of edits for Part One! As of August 31, it has been completed and published on Amazon and Kindle. Part Two was published on October 19th. I am working through the final Part Three and hope to have it published by February 2019.
THE HIDDEN – Released Chapter 7 on January 2nd. Just this month released Chapter 23. This series looks to be wrapping up in a couple months as a complete web saga. We, my father and I, will be working to get this put together and finalized for print within the upcoming year. I have been developing several book cover ideas to start with.
Now to see some stats on the site’s growth:
BLOG COUNTS:
2016 — 14 Monthly blogs completed
2017 — 37 Monthly blogs completed
2018 — 43 Monthly blogs completed (including this one)
NEW WEB SUBSCRIBERS:
2016 — 7
2017 — 17
2018 — 24
VISITORS & COUNTRIES VIEWED IN:
2016 — 204 & Countries — 8
2017 — 809 & Countries — 31
2018 — 895 & Countries — 39
4,239 Views in the three years!
TOP FIVE MOST VIEWED POSTS:
Elude #1 with 72 views
Steps on a New Path (Chapter One Blog for The Hidden) with 67 views
Elude #2 with 47 views
Audiobook Review of Stephen King’s “The Outsider” with 45 views
Elude #3 with 43 views
New Additions to the Site were my Audible book reviews posts and my book giveaways which has been very successful.
So, overall a lot of work still hadn’t been published until the fall of this year — three books and two audiobook versions. I hope to have two more audiobook versions out and possibly two more novels. I have also had ideas percolating in the back of my mind for a new horror web saga for this site and a whole new trio of novels starting in Aberissc this time! What I am saying is that there is a lot more work to be done and coming. 
December 23, 2018
The Hidden — Chapter 23: THE CONCUBINE — T.D. Barton & Derek Barton
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: THE CONCUBINE
Zelda sensed, even before she opened her eyes, that she was in a different room. She was enveloped by the silence of the grave. The only sound present was the soft popping sounds made by the torches. As she sat up to look around, her brain felt as if it sloshed loose, banging against the sides of her head like a melon in a bucket. She moaned and squinted her eyes. There were dozens of torches in the small chamber, and they bathed the room in a brilliant light.
She was surprised by the décor. It was lavish in comparison to anything she had seen before in this labyrinth of dirty caverns. Apparently, Chirkah’s program to develop human technologies within the Kophet-kur society was achieving a modicum of success. The floors and walls were tiled in a varying pattern of white and blue. These porcelain tiles ran across and followed the contours of a large square bath on the right side of the room. It had the modern if the somewhat sterile look of a Roman bath chamber. She looked up to see the ceiling was actually stuccoed in white. The only concession made to the natural surroundings was a huge, motionless “Niagra” of creamy flowstone which dripped from the ceiling into one corner of the bath. Zelda considered it for a moment and decided It had probably been left there for convenience reasons rather than ornamental. It was probably easier to build the room around it rather than try to cut into the hard mineral deposits. Nonetheless, she thought it did add a small amount of charm to an otherwise dismal decorating scheme.
An enormous array of satiny pillows took up her side of the room, and she lay amidst them clad in some type of white linen gown.
Someone had stripped off her shorts and underclothes, obviously bathed and dressed her in this loose-fitting garb. The gown was more like a robe, with a belt that tied around her waist, effectively insulating her from the cold. The soft fabric caressed her skin where the coarse wool sweater had irritated it. She found it to be quite comfortable and, were it not for the situation, she would have enjoyed napping on the soft cushions.
Zelda stood and crossed to the middle of the room. She was amazed at the modern conveniences exhibited here. At various places about the room, she could make out openings for ventilation shafts to enter the chamber. These were covered with steel grates, adding to the up-to-date ambiance of the place. It was clean and dry. In fact, had it not been for the ever-present torches, she would have believed she had been rescued and returned to civilization. Any such thoughts were cast aside, however, when she turned her attention to the doorway to this chamber. Beyond the glare of the torchlight, it was pitch black, but she could see two female slaves standing guard in the corridor. Just outside this room, they stood with their backs to her, flanking the doorway and staring straight ahead. This told her that she was still being held prisoner — same game, new playing field. She wondered what the rules to this new game were to be.
She didn’t have long to consider, however, because Lynette strolled into the room, smiling pleasantly, as though everything was as normal as can be expected. The two guards ignored her completely, and she walked directly over to greet Zelda.
“What’s new, Lynette?” Zelda asked, tersely. “Did you get the little wolf-cub tucked into his crib?”
Lynette let this jibe roll off without comment. Instead, she gazed at Zelda with wide-eyed innocence.
“You are so lucky!” She smiled warmly and reached out to brush back a lock of Zelda’s hair from her brow. “Soon you will understand and learn to appreciate the great contribution you are about to make.”
Annoyed, Zelda jerked her head away with a shake. “That’s a sweet thought, Lynette, but has it occurred to you that you may be as nutty as a fruitcake?” She turned her back on the older woman and made a gesture encompassing the room. “What is all this anyway?”
Lynette’s voice took on a hallowed tone. “You are being prepared for Chirkah. When The Gathering has finished, he will come for you here, in this chamber. It is a great honor. He has had but one other concubine since he assumed leadership of the Pack. And she…well–“
“What?” Zelda swung back around to face her. “What happened to my predecessor?”
Lynette dropped her eyes, but only slightly. “She died in childbirth. It was a natural occurrence…an infection…it could not have been helped.” Quickly she recovered her cheerful inspiration. “But YOU are strong — not like her. You will live long here and make many strong, healthy babies.”
Zelda reached out and grasped Lynette by the shoulders. She pleaded for reason, some semblance of sanity. “Lynette, listen to yourself, will you? You are asking me to give myself willingly over to a monster. Rape is one thing, but this is absolute madness! Why would I purposely sacrifice my own morality in order to help a cause which threatens to undermine the very future of my race? The Kophet-kur want to destroy us…surely you must know that?”
The haggard woman simply stared at her as though she were speaking a foreign language. Not a trace of comprehension showed on her prematurely wrinkled face.
“There must be a way out!” Desperation was creeping into her voice. “It’s not too late! You and I could make a break from here. You must know your way around pretty good by now, huh? What do you say we head for the hills while we’ve got the chance?” Her fingers dug deeply into Lynette’s soft flesh as she squeezed her arms. A startled look spread across the woman’s tortured features as she reached up to pull Zelda’s hands away. Zelda was surprised by the strength in that grip.
“You must NEVER talk of escape!” Lynette’s voice hissed between clenched teeth. “That kind of talk will bring you nothing but pain…and death.” Her eyes burned hotly and therein lay insanity.
Zelda felt herself on the verge of tears. She was stung by this rebuff from the one person she thought may be an ally in this madhouse. Her heart was near breaking with frustration. “But why?” she pleaded feebly. “Why would you want to go on living like this?”
She dug her palms into her eyes and fought back the tears. At last, she was able to gather herself. With a deep breath, she continued. “There must’ve been a time when you thought about it. Think back, Lynette, what turned you around and made you a martyr for this ’cause’ of theirs?”
Lynette smiled calmly, the look of serenity returning to her face. “You will understand completely once you are pregnant,” she said. “About the time the baby reaches the end of its first trimester, you will begin to hear its voice…here…within your heart.” Her hand came to nestle upon her shriveled bosom lightly like a flower.
“It will whisper to you quietly in the middle of the night. No one else will hear it. At first, there will be only feelings–emotions so strong and so unbelievably overwhelming in their correctness…You will not be able to resist them. Nor will you want to. Eventually, the baby will begin to speak to you in a voice only you can recognize. The words will be full of wisdom and power. And through it, there will grow within you an all-encompassing desire to protect and nurture this baby. It will be by far THE most important thing in your life. You will gladly die to protect it. And more importantly, you will kill to provide it a safe passage into this world.”
“As time goes on, the baby will make you see why The Cause is just and correct. You will be more than happy to assist in its execution. The rest of the world will fade into the dim background as you will become obsessed with the beauty of this child you are about to create. By the time the baby is ready to make its entrance, there will be a bond between you that will not be broken, even by death itself. Should you die in childbirth, you will know the baby’s thoughts and your own thoughts will go on, joining in The Cause. Your hearts will beat on together in one chest, a part of the greater heart of the Kophet-kur. A single entity absorbed by and held within the greater consciousness of being that is the legacy of our Fathers. There can be no greater goal in life than to live and die for The Cause. IT is everything and sustains us though we show ourselves unworthy. The Cause lifts us up and gives our lives purpose. You cannot deny the wisdom…the perfect, harmonious righteousness of The Cause!”
She brought a hand up and lovingly caressed Zelda’s cheek. “There is nothing more to say,” she said softly. Slowly she leaned and standing on tiptoe, placed her dry lips against Zelda’s forehead. The sickly-sweet scent of sage hung upon her breath. Zelda had the odd feeling she was being kissed by a corpse. Her mind leaped back to a vision of her father in his casket and the waxy cool feeling of his skin when she leaned over to kiss him goodbye. With a shiver, she realized the roles were reversed. This time the dead was bidding her adieu. She would be condemned to life — life without hope.
Abruptly Lynette turned on one heel and left the room. Again the almost palpable quiet swept in around Zelda and she fell back on the cushions to await her fate.
Amidst the silence, she pondered her situation. In the space of two horrible days, her entire life had been turned around. All her plans and dreams of the future lay in ruins. Total black, inconsolable grief rushed in overwhelming her. It flapped into the room on huge black wings to land upon her shoulder and peck at her heart. She sprawled on her stomach burying her face against this nightmare of insanity and wept bitterly.
“Nate, oh, Nate!” She sobbed his name over and over again like some pathetic mantra. For the first time since her capture, the awful truth of his death and the emptiness it would leave her with hit home. She would never bear his children or work together to create the family she desperately needed to give her life meaning. She would never again feel his arms about her or experience the thrill of his kisses.
When she looked to the future, there was a vast, dark hole in the center of it — blacker even than the cursed caverns that now entombed her. She felt completely lost, as though she were already dead. But instead of being freed by death to commune with her dear departed love, she was doomed to this purgatory — this hell below the surface of the world. She felt totally disconnected from her world, her soul buried in the cold ground and crawling with worms. Her heart ached like an exposed nerve, and her stomach knotted painfully as her body was wracked and twisted with sobs.
Slowly she became aware that someone else was in the room with her. Tears blurred her vision as she looked to see who had entered. She scrubbed her hands across her eyes, smearing wetness over her face and into her hair. She swallowed and asked thickly, “Who–who’s there?” An immense bulk filled her sight and she recoiled in fright.
It was time! Chirkah, the fearsome leader of the Kophet-kur had arrived. Zelda had no way of knowing what to expect, but she could only speculate about the ferocity of a best savage enough to lead this pack of bloodthirsty monsters.
A moment ago she had been ready to surrender herself to whatever came along. There seemed to be no way to avoid the horrible fate Lynette had spoken of, so why fight it? Pain, grief, and exhaustion had robbed her of the will to live and the ability to fight back. But now, when she faced the terror of this horrible, fanged creature, abundantly aware of his intentions, adrenaline flooded her bloodstream and she became alive with terror.
She screamed and leaped to her feet amidst the cushions, desperate to live and to cast aside this horrible threat. Somewhere in the depths of her being, she made up her mind to make this beast who was about to brutally violate her pay a dear price for his lust. She leaped straight at it, nails flashing and teeth bared in panic, like the cornered animal she’d become.
Alice stepped back in surprise, and then wrapped her immense arms in a bear hug around the frightened Zelda. “Whoa, girl!” she yelled over her screams. “We got a deal, remember? Don’t make me hurt you!”
When Zelda heard the familiar southern twang in that voice, she snapped out of her delusion and stopped struggling. She didn’t think she would ever be glad to see Alice, but there it was. With a small cry of relief, she relaxed. She felt Alice easing her grip as well. Zelda laughed suddenly and for a moment, she thought she would never stop — she would just go on laughing hysterically until Alice, Chirkah or one of the other slave women grew tired of it and put her out of her misery.
Eventually, however, her battered emotions stabilized, and she dropped silently back onto the cushions. She was embarrassed to think of the way she’d behaved in front of Alice — first weeping like a baby then flying into a fit of panic and screaming her fool head off. It compromised the show of strength she had presented before and undermined her position. Her face reddened and she struggled to make it stop.
While the big woman stood, swaying slightly in the middle of the room, Zelda turned her face away and stared at the wall. At last, she spoke, trying lamely to give her voice an edge of controlled strength. “What do you want?”
“You goin’ gorilla-dick on me, girl?” Alice asked, suspiciously. “I hope that ain’t the kind of greeting you plan to give Chirkah when he shows his ugly ass in here. You go jumpin’ at him like that and he’ll slap the hell outta you. Big as he is, he’ll prob’ly rip your fool head off an’ shit down your neck.”
Zelda said nothing.
“Now we had an agreement, you an’ me. How you gonna talk nice to ol’Chirkah ’bout me with your head ripped off and shoved up your ass?”
“Alice,” Zelda asked, anxiously. “Is there nothing I can do to get out of here? Isn’t there some way YOU could help me?” She was desperate and grasping at straws.
For just a moment, Alice’s features softened a bit and she saw a hint of compassion in her gaze. It was short-lived, however, as Alice’s cold little eyes narrowed and she thrust her jaw out stubbornly. “There ain’t NOTHIN’ you or me or anybody else can do about it, so you might just as well get used to the idea. You’re gonna be Chirkah’s number one squeeze an he’s gonna do all he can to keep you barefoot an’ pregnant for a long, long time.”
Zelda persisted, trying a different tack. “I’ve been watching you, and I can tell — you don’t buy into this ‘great cause’ idea of theirs. You give it lip service, but you’re not off in La-la Land like Lynette is. What keeps you going through all this? And why haven’t you tried to escape?”
“Why? I’ll tell you why.” There was a deep, bitter fury in Alice’s voice. It rumbled deep and low, threatening to break through and erupting to the surface. “‘Cause if they ketch you, they kill you…no questions asked — just ‘BAM!’ you’re doin’ the dirt-dance. And, like I told you before, I plan to go on living just as long as I can…whatever it takes!”
She shook her head. “Sure, it sucks here. And no, I ain’t gonna go walking around like some glassy-eyed zombie the way Lynette and the others do. I had bunches of them squealin’ little wolf-brats of theirs and every one of ’em tried to work their voodoo spells on me. But I’m too damn mean to listen. A couple of times, I thought about chokin’ their little eyeballs out or givin’ ’em the old ‘coat-hanger treatment’ before they had a chance to git born…That woulda just caused me more trouble if’n I was to git caught. And with the rest of these gung-ho bitches watchin’ every single move I make around here, the chances of gittin’ caught were real good.”
Alice diverted her gaze for a moment, staring into the flickering light of the nearest torch. “I know you think I’m pretty mean to these gals…maybe I am, too. But the fact is, I’ve had to put up with their bullshit for a good many years, now; and it don’t make no difference how you treat ’em. You can be nice to ’em or you can be mean as hell–they’re still lost as ever. It’s like they’re already dead, and just plain too stupid to fall down. They come in here scared to death until one of those big hairy sombitches drags ’em off for a few rounds of ‘bury-the-bone’. Then, when they come back, it’s like they got lost somewhere and never made it back. They stare off into space and won’t have nothing to do with anybody — just sit around huggin’ themselves an’ waitin’ to git big. After a while, the baby takes over what little mind they had left, and the person that was brought in here is gone forever.”
She turned back to Zelda again, and there was horror deep within her eyes. “The real scary monsters down here ain’t them Kofat-kurs — it’s the empty shells left behind by their half-breed kids. Unless you’re real strong — or maybe just ornery, like me — they’ll tear your heart out and leave you with nothin’…just plain nothin’.”
Silence filled the room again while the two women sat staring at each other. At that moment, Zelda saw the big woman in a brand new light. She thought she could comprehend a little better what she had been through and why she behaved in the manner she chose. It would be an overstatement to say that her heart went out to Alice, but she did have a glimmer of understanding that eased, somewhat, her loathing of the woman. She wondered what she would be like after years at the hands of the Kophet-kur.
Alice took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Anyways, what do you think of the place — pretty snazzy, eh?”
Zelda flashed a rueful grin. “Oh, yeah. It’s just lovely! It still smells like the lion-house at Lincoln Park Zoo, but it’s nicer than any of the other accommodations here. Do you like my gown?”
“Well, it ain’t exactly a Paris oh-riginal, but I reckin’ it’ll do. Yeah, ol’Chirkah, he likes a little ceremony an’ a nice place to sleep. Comes right down to it, you’re really pretty lucky. Most of these bastards’ll just slap you a good one and put it to you where you fall — no matter where that might happen to be.” She shook her head, sadly. “See, most of us ain’t reserved for just one, like you are. We’re supposed to make ourselves available to any one of ’em what gets a boner and a couple minutes off, know what I mean? Not that Chrikah’s gonna be no gentleman or anything…”
Zelda thought back to the beast that had carried her off into the night and the way it had thrust its erection into her unsuspecting hand.
“You’ll get used to the smell after a while, though,” Alice continued. “And the cuts and bruises and such will heal pretty quick. So, like I said, you might just as well make the most of it…And don’t forget about our agreement, huh?”
With no flourish or ceremony, the big woman turned and strode from the room. Along with her went any hopes Zelda had for securing an accomplice that might aid her in her attempts to escape. Once more, she was left alone with her thoughts. Now, there was nothing left for her to do but steel herself and await the arrival of Chirkah, leader of the Kophet-kur — prospective father of her future children. With a shudder, she realized she was about to become indoctrinated into the pack.
The Hidden — Chapter Twenty-three: THE CONCUBINE — T.D. Barton & Derek Barton
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: THE CONCUBINE
Zelda sensed, even before she opened her eyes, that she was in a different room. She was enveloped by the silence of the grave. The only sound present was the soft popping sounds made by the torches. As she sat up to look around, her brain felt as if it sloshed loose, banging against the sides of her head like a melon in a bucket. She moaned and squinted her eyes. There were dozens of torches in the small chamber, and they bathed the room in a brilliant light.
She was surprised by the décor. It was lavish in comparison to anything she had seen before in this labyrinth of dirty caverns. Apparently, Chirkah’s program to develop human technologies within the Kophet-kur society was achieving a modicum of success. The floors and walls were tiled in a varying pattern of white and blue. These porcelain tiles ran across and followed the contours of a large square bath on the right side of the room. It had the modern if the somewhat sterile look of a Roman bath chamber. She looked up to see the ceiling was actually stuccoed in white. The only concession made to the natural surroundings was a huge, motionless “Niagra” of creamy flowstone which dripped from the ceiling into one corner of the bath. Zelda considered it for a moment and decided It had probably been left there for convenience reasons rather than ornamental. It was probably easier to build the room around it rather than try to cut into the hard mineral deposits. Nonetheless, she thought it did add a small amount of charm to an otherwise dismal decorating scheme.
An enormous array of satiny pillows took up her side of the room, and she lay amidst them clad in some type of white linen gown.
Someone had stripped off her shorts and underclothes, obviously bathed and dressed her in this loose-fitting garb. The gown was more like a robe, with a belt that tied around her waist, effectively insulating her from the cold. The soft fabric caressed her skin where the coarse wool sweater had irritated it. She found it to be quite comfortable and, were it not for the situation, she would have enjoyed napping on the soft cushions.
Zelda stood and crossed to the middle of the room. She was amazed at the modern conveniences exhibited here. At various places about the room, she could make out openings for ventilation shafts to enter the chamber. These were covered with steel grates, adding to the up-to-date ambiance of the place. It was clean and dry. In fact, had it not been for the ever-present torches, she would have believed she had been rescued and returned to civilization. Any such thoughts were cast aside, however, when she turned her attention to the doorway to this chamber. Beyond the glare of the torchlight, it was pitch black, but she could see two female slaves standing guard in the corridor. Just outside this room, they stood with their backs to her, flanking the doorway and staring straight ahead. This told her that she was still being held prisoner — same game, new playing field. She wondered what the rules to this new game were to be.
She didn’t have long to consider, however, because Lynette strolled into the room, smiling pleasantly, as though everything was as normal as can be expected. The two guards ignored her completely, and she walked directly over to greet Zelda.
“What’s new, Lynette?” Zelda asked, tersely. “Did you get the little wolf-cub tucked into his crib?”
Lynette let this jibe roll off without comment. Instead, she gazed at Zelda with wide-eyed innocence.
“You are so lucky!” She smiled warmly and reached out to brush back a lock of Zelda’s hair from her brow. “Soon you will understand and learn to appreciate the great contribution you are about to make.”
Annoyed, Zelda jerked her head away with a shake. “That’s a sweet thought, Lynette, but has it occurred to you that you may be as nutty as a fruitcake?” She turned her back on the older woman and made a gesture encompassing the room. “What is all this anyway?”
Lynette’s voice took on a hallowed tone. “You are being prepared for Chirkah. When The Gathering has finished, he will come for you here, in this chamber. It is a great honor. He has had but one other concubine since he assumed leadership of the Pack. And she…well–“
“What?” Zelda swung back around to face her. “What happened to my predecessor?”
Lynette dropped her eyes, but only slightly. “She died in childbirth. It was a natural occurrence…an infection…it could not have been helped.” Quickly she recovered her cheerful inspiration. “But YOU are strong — not like her. You will live long here and make many strong, healthy babies.”
Zelda reached out and grasped Lynette by the shoulders. She pleaded for reason, some semblance of sanity. “Lynette, listen to yourself, will you? You are asking me to give myself willingly over to a monster. Rape is one thing, but this is absolute madness! Why would I purposely sacrifice my own morality in order to help a cause which threatens to undermine the very future of my race? The Kophet-kur want to destroy us…surely you must know that?”
The haggard woman simply stared at her as though she were speaking a foreign language. Not a trace of comprehension showed on her prematurely wrinkled face.
“There must be a way out!” Desperation was creeping into her voice. “It’s not too late! You and I could make a break from here. You must know your way around pretty good by now, huh? What do you say we head for the hills while we’ve got the chance?” Her fingers dug deeply into Lynette’s soft flesh as she squeezed her arms. A startled look spread across the woman’s tortured features as she reached up to pull Zelda’s hands away. Zelda was surprised by the strength in that grip.
“You must NEVER talk of escape!” Lynette’s voice hissed between clenched teeth. “That kind of talk will bring you nothing but pain…and death.” Her eyes burned hotly and therein lay insanity.
Zelda felt herself on the verge of tears. She was stung by this rebuff from the one person she thought may be an ally in this madhouse. Her heart was near breaking with frustration. “But why?” she pleaded feebly. “Why would you want to go on living like this?”
She dug her palms into her eyes and fought back the tears. At last, she was able to gather herself. With a deep breath, she continued. “There must’ve been a time when you thought about it. Think back, Lynette, what turned you around and made you a martyr for this ’cause’ of theirs?”
Lynette smiled calmly, the look of serenity returning to her face. “You will understand completely once you are pregnant,” she said. “About the time the baby reaches the end of its first trimester, you will begin to hear its voice…here…within your heart.” Her hand came to nestle upon her shriveled bosom lightly like a flower.
“It will whisper to you quietly in the middle of the night. No one else will hear it. At first, there will be only feelings–emotions so strong and so unbelievably overwhelming in their correctness…You will not be able to resist them. Nor will you want to. Eventually, the baby will begin to speak to you in a voice only you can recognize. The words will be full of wisdom and power. And through it, there will grow within you an all-encompassing desire to protect and nurture this baby. It will be by far THE most important thing in your life. You will gladly die to protect it. And more importantly, you will kill to provide it a safe passage into this world.”
“As time goes on, the baby will make you see why The Cause is just and correct. You will be more than happy to assist in its execution. The rest of the world will fade into the dim background as you will become obsessed with the beauty of this child you are about to create. By the time the baby is ready to make its entrance, there will be a bond between you that will not be broken, even by death itself. Should you die in childbirth, you will know the baby’s thoughts and your own thoughts will go on, joining in The Cause. Your hearts will beat on together in one chest, a part of the greater heart of the Kophet-kur. A single entity absorbed by and held within the greater consciousness of being that is the legacy of our Fathers. There can be no greater goal in life than to live and die for The Cause. IT is everything and sustains us though we show ourselves unworthy. The Cause lifts us up and gives our lives purpose. You cannot deny the wisdom…the perfect, harmonious righteousness of The Cause!”
She brought a hand up and lovingly caressed Zelda’s cheek. “There is nothing more to say,” she said softly. Slowly she leaned and standing on tiptoe, placed her dry lips against Zelda’s forehead. The sickly-sweet scent of sage hung upon her breath. Zelda had the odd feeling she was being kissed by a corpse. Her mind leaped back to a vision of her father in his casket and the waxy cool feeling of his skin when she leaned over to kiss him goodbye. With a shiver, she realized the roles were reversed. This time the dead was bidding her adieu. She would be condemned to life — life without hope.
Abruptly Lynette turned on one heel and left the room. Again the almost palpable quiet swept in around Zelda and she fell back on the cushions to await her fate.
Amidst the silence, she pondered her situation. In the space of two horrible days, her entire life had been turned around. All her plans and dreams of the future lay in ruins. Total black, inconsolable grief rushed in overwhelming her. It flapped into the room on huge black wings to land upon her shoulder and peck at her heart. She sprawled on her stomach burying her face against this nightmare of insanity and wept bitterly.
“Nate, oh, Nate!” She sobbed his name over and over again like some pathetic mantra. For the first time since her capture, the awful truth of his death and the emptiness it would leave her with hit home. She would never bear his children or work together to create the family she desperately needed to give her life meaning. She would never again feel his arms about her or experience the thrill of his kisses.
When she looked to the future, there was a vast, dark hole in the center of it — blacker even than the cursed caverns that now entombed her. She felt completely lost, as though she were already dead. But instead of being freed by death to commune with her dear departed love, she was doomed to this purgatory — this hell below the surface of the world. She felt totally disconnected from her world, her soul buried in the cold ground and crawling with worms. Her heart ached like an exposed nerve, and her stomach knotted painfully as her body was wracked and twisted with sobs.
Slowly she became aware that someone else was in the room with her. Tears blurred her vision as she looked to see who had entered. She scrubbed her hands across her eyes, smearing wetness over her face and into her hair. She swallowed and asked thickly, “Who–who’s there?” An immense bulk filled her sight and she recoiled in fright.
It was time! Chirkah, the fearsome leader of the Kophet-kur had arrived. Zelda had no way of knowing what to expect, but she could only speculate about the ferocity of a best savage enough to lead this pack of bloodthirsty monsters.
A moment ago she had been ready to surrender herself to whatever came along. There seemed to be no way to avoid the horrible fate Lynette had spoken of, so why fight it? Pain, grief, and exhaustion had robbed her of the will to live and the ability to fight back. But now, when she faced the terror of this horrible, fanged creature, abundantly aware of his intentions, adrenaline flooded her bloodstream and she became alive with terror.
She screamed and leaped to her feet amidst the cushions, desperate to live and to cast aside this horrible threat. Somewhere in the depths of her being, she made up her mind to make this beast who was about to brutally violate her pay a dear price for his lust. She leaped straight at it, nails flashing and teeth bared in panic, like the cornered animal she’d become.
Alice stepped back in surprise, and then wrapped her immense arms in a bear hug around the frightened Zelda. “Whoa, girl!” she yelled over her screams. “We got a deal, remember? Don’t make me hurt you!”
When Zelda heard the familiar southern twang in that voice, she snapped out of her delusion and stopped struggling. She didn’t think she would ever be glad to see Alice, but there it was. With a small cry of relief, she relaxed. She felt Alice easing her grip as well. Zelda laughed suddenly and for a moment, she thought she would never stop — she would just go on laughing hysterically until Alice, Chirkah or one of the other slave women grew tired of it and put her out of her misery.
Eventually, however, her battered emotions stabilized, and she dropped silently back onto the cushions. She was embarrassed to think of the way she’d behaved in front of Alice — first weeping like a baby then flying into a fit of panic and screaming her fool head off. It compromised the show of strength she had presented before and undermined her position. Her face reddened and she struggled to make it stop.
While the big woman stood, swaying slightly in the middle of the room, Zelda turned her face away and stared at the wall. At last, she spoke, trying lamely to give her voice an edge of controlled strength. “What do you want?”
“You goin’ gorilla-dick on me, girl?” Alice asked, suspiciously. “I hope that ain’t the kind of greeting you plan to give Chirkah when he shows his ugly ass in here. You go jumpin’ at him like that and he’ll slap the hell outta you. Big as he is, he’ll prob’ly rip your fool head off an’ shit down your neck.”
Zelda said nothing.
“Now we had an agreement, you an’ me. How you gonna talk nice to ol’Chirkah ’bout me with your head ripped off and shoved up your ass?”
“Alice,” Zelda asked, anxiously. “Is there nothing I can do to get out of here? Isn’t there some way YOU could help me?” She was desperate and grasping at straws.
For just a moment, Alice’s features softened a bit and she saw a hint of compassion in her gaze. It was short-lived, however, as Alice’s cold little eyes narrowed and she thrust her jaw out stubbornly. “There ain’t NOTHIN’ you or me or anybody else can do about it, so you might just as well get used to the idea. You’re gonna be Chirkah’s number one squeeze an he’s gonna do all he can to keep you barefoot an’ pregnant for a long, long time.”
Zelda persisted, trying a different tack. “I’ve been watching you, and I can tell — you don’t buy into this ‘great cause’ idea of theirs. You give it lip service, but you’re not off in La-la Land like Lynette is. What keeps you going through all this? And why haven’t you tried to escape?”
“Why? I’ll tell you why.” There was a deep, bitter fury in Alice’s voice. It rumbled deep and low, threatening to break through and erupting to the surface. “‘Cause if they ketch you, they kill you…no questions asked — just ‘BAM!’ you’re doin’ the dirt-dance. And, like I told you before, I plan to go on living just as long as I can…whatever it takes!”
She shook her head. “Sure, it sucks here. And no, I ain’t gonna go walking around like some glassy-eyed zombie the way Lynette and the others do. I had bunches of them squealin’ little wolf-brats of theirs and every one of ’em tried to work their voodoo spells on me. But I’m too damn mean to listen. A couple of times, I thought about chokin’ their little eyeballs out or givin’ ’em the old ‘coat-hanger treatment’ before they had a chance to git born…That woulda just caused me more trouble if’n I was to git caught. And with the rest of these gung-ho bitches watchin’ every single move I make around here, the chances of gittin’ caught were real good.”
Alice diverted her gaze for a moment, staring into the flickering light of the nearest torch. “I know you think I’m pretty mean to these gals…maybe I am, too. But the fact is, I’ve had to put up with their bullshit for a good many years, now; and it don’t make no difference how you treat ’em. You can be nice to ’em or you can be mean as hell–they’re still lost as ever. It’s like they’re already dead, and just plain too stupid to fall down. They come in here scared to death until one of those big hairy sombitches drags ’em off for a few rounds of ‘bury-the-bone’. Then, when they come back, it’s like they got lost somewhere and never made it back. They stare off into space and won’t have nothing to do with anybody — just sit around huggin’ themselves an’ waitin’ to git big. After a while, the baby takes over what little mind they had left, and the person that was brought in here is gone forever.”
She turned back to Zelda again, and there was horror deep within her eyes. “The real scary monsters down here ain’t them Kofat-kurs — it’s the empty shells left behind by their half-breed kids. Unless you’re real strong — or maybe just ornery, like me — they’ll tear your heart out and leave you with nothin’…just plain nothin’.”
Silence filled the room again while the two women sat staring at each other. At that moment, Zelda saw the big woman in a brand new light. She thought she could comprehend a little better what she had been through and why she behaved in the manner she chose. It would be an overstatement to say that her heart went out to Alice, but she did have a glimmer of understanding that eased, somewhat, her loathing of the woman. She wondered what she would be like after years at the hands of the Kophet-kur.
Alice took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Anyways, what do you think of the place — pretty snazzy, eh?”
Zelda flashed a rueful grin. “Oh, yeah. It’s just lovely! It still smells like the lion-house at Lincoln Park Zoo, but it’s nicer than any of the other accommodations here. Do you like my gown?”
“Well, it ain’t exactly a Paris oh-riginal, but I reckin’ it’ll do. Yeah, ol’Chirkah, he likes a little ceremony an’ a nice place to sleep. Comes right down to it, you’re really pretty lucky. Most of these bastards’ll just slap you a good one and put it to you where you fall — no matter where that might happen to be.” She shook her head, sadly. “See, most of us ain’t reserved for just one, like you are. We’re supposed to make ourselves available to any one of ’em what gets a boner and a couple minutes off, know what I mean? Not that Chrikah’s gonna be no gentleman or anything…”
Zelda thought back to the beast that had carried her off into the night and the way it had thrust its erection into her unsuspecting hand.
“You’ll get used to the smell after a while, though,” Alice continued. “And the cuts and bruises and such will heal pretty quick. So, like I said, you might just as well make the most of it…And don’t forget about our agreement, huh?”
With no flourish or ceremony, the big woman turned and strode from the room. Along with her went any hopes Zelda had for securing an accomplice that might aid her in her attempts to escape. Once more, she was left alone with her thoughts. Now, there was nothing left for her to do but steel herself and await the arrival of Chirkah, leader of the Kophet-kur — prospective father of her future children. With a shudder, she realized she was about to become indoctrinated into the pack.
