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  Six

  By

  Rachel Robinson

  Credits Page

  Eternal Press

  A division of Damnation Books, LLC.

  P.O. Box 3931

  Santa Rosa, CA 95402-9998

  www.eternalpress.biz

  Six

  by Rachel Robinson

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-62929-067-6

  Print ISBN: 978-1-62929-068-3

  Cover art by: Amanda Kelsey

  Edited by: Wendy Callahan

  Copyright 2013 Rachel Robinson

  Printed in the United States of America

  Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

  Worldwide English Language Print Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication page

  For Julie, because you loved their love story just as much as I did. You got it.

  Thanks be to the almighty readers and editors. Also to anyone who encouraged me while I deviated from Sam and her merry pack of (familiar) men.

  Chapter One

  January 10th, Midday

  My body is tired. Running is something I have not done since childhood. The dark part of my body can go on. The human part wants to rest. Nothingness is even darker than I imagined it would be. Thick, black trees cover the gray hazy light that I can usually see in the sky. The air smells different, my skin feels odd, and my anger is still tepid. I wait for it to leave because it makes me feel awkward. Having never been able to control my fear, I now wonder if anger laces every waking moment. On its own, I prefer it to fear because it is more bearable—it drives a response from somewhere new. All of the sub-emotions connected to anger are flashing through my system. They are powerful and unrelenting.

  My worn out boots crunch the ground as I walk. The echoing noise only serves to make me angrier. The sounds will give away my location and the dark witches will know where I have gone. It is not a matter of if they will. I know they will come after me. I take off my boots, strip off my socks, and continue to tread lightly on the cold ground. For a moment I forget why I do not want the witches to find me, but then I remember her dead body and her whispered last words. They were not empty words as so many of the words she spoke throughout my lifetime. They will kill you when they are done with you. Just like they killed her after her job was completed.

  Anger. The emotion is blistering.

  I will remind myself of her words when I feel the urge to return to my fated life.

  I urge my feet to move faster through the forest to explore. I force my blue eyes to glow a magical bright white to cast additional light on the trail ahead of me. When I hear something move in the distance, I freeze. The black trees look icy but it is just an illusion—they are very much alive and thriving. After the old world fell, magical spells encased the new world to keep it from dying off. I think perhaps it is a tree making the noise, but then I hear a low, gruff growl. I know then that the creatures have found me.

  They are glistening, humanoid killing machines that have forced me indoors for most of my life. The wretched creatures are why my fear never left, because they refused to go as well.

  I shut my eyes to hide the light that signals my otherness and the growling immediately ceases. Walking a few paces away to a large clump of trees, I slump against a trunk and heave a sigh. Quietness surrounds me as I lace my boots back on. Next, I dig my fingers into the murky, ashen dirt by my sides, desperate to keep my magic quelled. I have been wandering aimlessly, without a stopping point, and my magic is urging me to use it as a solution.

  Vibration uncontrollably wracks my humming frame. It signals the magic now coursing through my body, just as vital as blood. Forcing the urges away like I used to do is no longer an option. I am eighteen and the transition is almost complete. My humanness is almost gone. Now, I am more dark witch than anything else. I would pretend for my human mother, but now there is no point. I can be what I was born to become.

  My stomach suddenly growls, reminding me of the human parts that will never disappear. I clutch my middle and think about my worn storybook that I left behind in my home. I want to go back for it, but know I cannot without the witches catching me. Something buried deep inside heaves when I think of my home, my book, and my dead mother. My memory knows the story from my book by heart so I begin to recite it in my head. The familiar, hollow words calm me—they make me forget, they numb me.

  I hear movement again and know without a doubt it is coming from the trees. I look up and gaze at the static branches and the still leaves. I feel the anger leaving as I take in my surroundings. With the creatures at bay, I realize I am comfortable in nothingness. I feel I do not exist to anyone else—it satisfies me completely. Nature blankets me wholly. It is an entity that has long forgotten my name. Hearing another rustle, my eyes spark white.

  “Turn it off!” A female voice hisses from above. My eyes glow brighter in fear.

  “I’m serious, bitch. The savages are here.”

  The creatures have a different name in nothingness, as do I. I know they are one and the same. I still cannot urge my blue eyes to come. The terror and anger are back and stronger than ever. Rasping hot, stinking breath is so close I can feel it prickling my exposed skin.

  The girl’s voice sighs loudly above me in the trees, and then I hear a brisk flick of something. An arrow hisses through the air and hits the savage directly between the black, protruding eyes. It falls toward me, but I nimbly move away from its hulking, slimy corpse. Swallowing loudly, I examine the steaming monster on the ground in front of me. I have never seen one close up. Growing up I would watch them from my bedroom window as they hid behind trees and stalked in the fields by my house. They sensed I was not human and they wanted to kill me. When my magic got stronger, my mother did not let me leave the confines of the house’s walls. Because of this creature and many more like it, I was a prisoner.

  Remembering why it is on the ground and not brutally ripping me limb from limb, I warily look up.

  A girl drops down from the trees, lithe and graceful. I stare at her, committing every feature to memory. The girl is my savior. She wears a worn plaid shirt and torn blue jeans. Her bow and quiver swings on her back like a brave warrior and her eyes do not glow, nor are they a recognizable human shade. Her eyes are a milky silver. She is one of whom my mother spoke. I know she is not a dark witch. She is a darkling—a half-human, half-dark witch. The girl is like me.

  She suddenly yells, “I said turn it off! You freak!”

  I flinch away from her. I do not understand her words and her tone is unfamiliar. She bends over the savage and grasps the head. I shudder when I hear her hands press into the goopy flesh. As she jerks, tendons fray and the head eventually pops off the body. My eyes widen in shock. I have never seen such brutality.

  “Savages?” I ask. She tosses the head several feet away and then meets my gaze.

  “Yes, freak. Savages…and more will be here soon if you don’t turn that shit off!” She points at my face, indicating my eyes as she kicks the corpse away and readies her bow to shoot again. I introduce myself.

  “I am Emmalina Weaver.” My eyes are blue again—my dark side buried. I look at her from the back. She is small, yet strong. Pulling the bowstring back, she locks her sights on something and holds her bre
ath. In response I hold my breath, too. She does not let the arrow go though. She slowly lowers her bow to aim at the ground and turns to look at me curiously.

  “Well, well, Emma. Finally pulled your act together? Took you long enough. Nice eyes by the way.” The girl squints in the darkness to peer at my face.

  “I am hungry,” I say quickly, in hopes of deterring her from realizing our differences. My blond hair contrasts starkly compared to her black, chin length hair that is similar to the dark witches that killed my mother, the common features I am sure most share.

  “Oh, Jesus. You’re hungry? You are really far-gone, aren’t you? Fuck. I should just put you out of your misery now…just say the word,” she says icily. She places her hands on her hips and raises one eyebrow.

  The girl has asked a question I do not understand so I smile. She raises her bow up, readying to shoot—in my direction.

  “No, please do not shoot me. I am frightened!”

  The girl cackles, her smile touching her eyes. “Okay, not all the way gone, then.”

  I passed a test. I smile back at her. She shakes her head as she lowers her weapon.

  “They are going to fucking kill me for this,” she says, stomping one foot on the ground. Her words confuse me. I want to ask if she knows where I can find food, but she was not happy when I told her of my hunger, so I ask her a question instead.

  “Who? The creatures will kill you?” I ask. It seems to me that she is prepared to take on the creatures—or anything else that lurks in nothingness. I would be dead if not for her lethal shooting and decapitating abilities.

  She swings her bow down by her side as she scans the forest. “No. Not the creatures.” When she finally looks at me, she closes her eyes and sucks in a deep breath. She opens them and her eyes rove my body a few more times.

  “The dark witches killed my mother this morning. They came for me, but I ran from them. I will hide in nothingness,” I tell her, hoping to portray humanness by sharing a story. Though saying the words aloud makes me realize my plan is not solid. I have nowhere to go.

  “Today? They came for you today?” Her forehead wrinkles and I sense fear in her voice. I am aware of it, just as I was able to sense it in my mother.

  “Yes. Today,” I say.

  She scans the woods once more while asking, “You ran? Why?” I am hesitant to tell her—I think she will not comprehend my reasons. I look down to the ground and answer her honestly.

  “Because I felt.”

  Her head snaps back to look at me. She looks me up and down twice more before saying, “Then let’s get you the fuck out of here before the next thing you feel is death.” She extends her small hand toward me. Her eyes are a mix of worry and bravery.

  “Okay,” I say while wrapping my hand around hers. I know what death means and it frightens me. Trusting the girl will keep me alive. She can protect me from the savages, which seem my greatest threat at the moment.

  As we walk, the girl bends down and beheads another creature with one hard jerk. She picks up the stinking, sopping dome and throws it without releasing my hand. Pulling her bloody arrow out of the creature’s chest, she then slams it back into her quiver. Casually the girl says, “I’m Lana by the way.”

  The girl is a savage of a different kind.

  Chapter Two

  January 10th, Night

  All my senses are on overload as we trudge through nothingness. The girl, Lana is completely at ease here. She tells me if I keep my magic subdued the savages will not attack. Knowing this a long time ago would have made me less fearful. I wonder why my mother did not tell me and I think perhaps she did not know. I feel a pang of something at the thought of her.

  “Why did they kill her?” I ask, unable to shove the memories away. As I wait for her to answer I walk behind her and step in the same spots she does. Our feet are almost the same size. She looks at me warily over her shoulder, then turns back with her bow and answers.

  “You know why. They are assholes. They want to rid the planet of humans.” She abruptly stops. I stand behind her as still as possible and shut my eyes tightly. I do not want any more savages to come. I also shut them because I do not want to see another gruesome killing. Lana laughs. My eyes fly open at the unexpected sound.

  “I about shot you in the head, bitch,” Lana says to another girl. The other girl laughs out loud and they embrace each other in a familiar, friendly way. I feel another twinge of emotion drive through my body, but it is gone just as quickly. The other girl notices me for the first time and does not look pleased. In fact, she looks the opposite.

  “Lana, you’re kidding right?” They both look at me oddly. Like something is wrong with me. I realize I am very different from them. The girl’s eyes are also matte and a stagnant silver color.

  Lana shakes her head and tells the girl, “Afraid not, Bec. These freaks find me like I’m the leader at a lost animal shelter.” They laugh at me and I feel anger return. My face feels hot and although I do not understand the words she says, I know her attitude is harsh. I fold my arms over my chest. The other girl cocks her head and looks at me quizzically.

  Lana speaks. “Look at her. She feels. She isn’t gone yet. I couldn’t just leave her out there. A savage practically ate her alive…but now she knows to turn the freak switch off to stay safe. I’ve already made progress.” I am furious as her words echo off the trees and resonate within me.

  “I am standing right here. Do not talk about me like I cannot hear you,” I say loudly, surprised at the tone of my own voice. It sounds different—punctuated with a foreign note. My mother taught me to always have good manners and respect. My composure is slipping. The girl raises her eyebrows and approaches slowly.

  “You’re right, Lana. This one still has fire. She looks weird—different, though. You know the others will be mad, right? Finn will probably cut off your head and feed it to the savages for bringing another one back.”

  “No!” I scream at the girl. I do not want Lana to die. I do not want another head removed from a body. My heart pumps with a new terror. Lana walks over and puts her arm around my shoulders, though it does nothing to relax me. My breathing is erratic. I hear it passing my lips in exaggerated huffs. I have almost reached my limit and the magic wants out.

  “It’s a figure of speech, Emma. Finn is a friend,” Lana says to me. She looks at the other girl, Bec, and spins her pointer finger in circles by her temple. These darklings are confusing.

  “I figure Finn will shit tacks for a couple days, shoot me dirty looks for a few more, and then life will move on. What would make me the bigger asshole? Leaving her in the forest with savages eating her brains or subjecting her to the circle?” Lana asks. Bec looks away, considering which alternative would be preferable. I am glad Lana left the dark witches out of the options. All they do is make me angry.

  “I hate the creatures. I prefer the circle.” I interrupt the silence. It cannot be worse than the stinking savages. It is then that I notice we are at the edge of nothingness. I see houses through the dense brush. The glow of lights captures and holds my attention. Looking away is not an option. The girls are talking, but I cannot hear the mumbled words they speak. My focus is on the new unknown before me. The houses are all very similar and they form a large circle. My eyes glow white.

  “That is the circle?” I ask as I point off in the distance. Bec punches me in the arm. I grab my biceps in pain, but my eyes stop glowing and the magic dissipates. She smiles.

  “Uh…yeah. That’s the circle,” Lana says. She takes my hand and yanks me to a walk. Bec hands me a small brown bag with a drawstring. There are small potatoes inside. My stomach growls instantly.

  ‘Thank you. I am very hungry,” I tell them as we walk forward, smiling my thanks. They are silent as I eat. I notice Bec’s walking stick is actually a sword. It still has wet blood dripping from it. I shiver briefly, but continue eating knowing I must get used to some things if I am to blend in with these new people.

  Bec sa
ys, “I’m gonna hang back here while you two go in first. If heads roll I don’t want any part of this mess.” I want the girls to be safe and I do not want to cause them harm, so I know what I must do.

  “I will keep my eyes blue.” I can pretend for them. To keep them safe I would do anything. I need protectors. I put the last potato in my mouth and hand the empty bag back to Bec. She shakes her head and sighs loudly.

  “She eats a lot. Oh, yeah…Finn will shit knives, not tacks.” Both girls laugh. I force a smile to my face.

  “No, don’t smile, Emma. That’s freaking scary,” Lana tells me. Her forehead is crinkled and she chews her lip. “Just keep your eyes blue. Even though your human color is fucking weird, too.” I drop my smile. I am too different even to blend in with my own kind.

  “Why are we different? You are darklings, no?” I ask hesitantly. I do not ask very many questions, as I know my fate holds all the answers, but now I have eluded it for the time being. The need to understand things that never mattered weighs heavily on me.

  “We aren’t the same, sugar cakes. Look at you. Look at us. If your mother was human, I want to know who your dark daddy was. Your eyes are light, your hair is blond…you look like something from the old world.” I stop walking, her words holding me to this spot.

  “We are not the same then. I do not belong.” Lana and Bec gaze off in the distance and then back to me. They are deciding if I should know something.

  “We are more human than witch. We’ve learned to suppress our magic for so long just to survive, that it isn’t a part of us anymore. While we were born with the ability to use and abuse the stuff, it wasn’t taught and we never needed to use it. If you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of badass.” Lana smiles. “It’s how we have survived out here since the end of the old world. You have to be able to feel to make rational decisions. Follow your heart and all that bullshit. Our emotions are our greatest weapon. It’s why I didn’t kill you like other darklings I’ve found. You still feel things…right?” she asks, her smile faltering a touch.