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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2037541-Starhawk-Chronicles-Book-II-Chapter-4
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Sci-fi · #2037541
In this chapter, we learn what happens after chapters 1-3
Chapter Four



Raychel closed her eyes and leaned back against the trunk of a massive akira tree. The sun had risen above the horizon quite some time ago and she knew she should press on, but she was also near exhaustion. It would be better for her to stop willingly and rest rather than collapse helplessly and fall prey to one of the predators lurking within the darkened recesses of the forest.

As tired as she was, Raychel knew she would not sleep. The events of the past few hours still swam through her mind, making any thought of true rest impossible.

Kebbe’s words came back to her. She did not know exactly what had happened to her father after she had begun to ascend the airshaft. Perhaps he had gotten away somehow before the explosive charge had gone off. Maybe even now he was somewhere outside the mines, having been able to slip away amidst all the confusion.

Deep down, however, she knew she was fooling herself.

Too tired even to cry, she leaned back against the tree, closed her eyes, and took a deep, cleansing breath. She found the sounds of the forest in early morning soothing, and felt her body relaxing for the first time in a long time.

That was when she heard the first sounds of foliage crunching underneath something very large. As her eyes snapped open, she heard it again, louder this time. Getting closer.

Every other sound in the forest had gone silent. No birds were singing. No small animals scurrying through the bushes. She thought back to earlier that morning when they had come across the warning sign outside the preserve. Extremely dangerous animals, it had said. I don’t think that anything making that much noise could be a passive herbivore.

She quieted her breathing as much as possible, listening to the sounds of the creature’s approach. Her heart began pounding in her chest with such ferocity that she feared death from a heart attack before even encountering the animal.

Then, as abruptly as the footsteps had begun, they just as abruptly stopped.

The sudden absence of noise frightened Raychel more than the commotion had. She knew the beast had to still be somewhere in the vicinity. The other sounds of the forest had failed to return.

Steeling herself, she sat up, and began to lean around the base of the tree, and found herself staring into the eyes of a creature out of Hell.

She recognized it from an old biology text from her earlier schooling. Standing four meters tall on legs as thick as tree trunks, the Sadorian clawshrike regarded her with the baleful gaze of its night black eyes. Its front forelimbs ended in meter-long claws like curved swords. Dried blood crusted the rim of its mouth and dagger teeth. From this close Raychel could smell its rancid breath.

For the moment, she found herself frozen to the spot, thinking that perhaps if she stayed absolutely still, the creature would ignore her, despite having come face to face with her.

The clawshrike responded with alarming speed, one of its claw arms raising up and cleaving through the tree. Raychel fell away just in time. One second longer to respond and her head would have been taken cleanly off at the neck.

The beast shrieked and slashed at her with its other claw as it tried to free the one that had become stuck in the tree trunk, but Raychel had already stumbled backwards out of range. She turned and ran as the clawshrike screamed again.

Raychel could hear the snapping and splintering of wood as the creature freed itself and gave pursuit. Adrenaline pumping, she plunged further and further into the woods. The clawshrike’s heavy footfalls shook the ground with every lumbering step.

Raychel pressed on, more frightened than she had ever been before in her young life. Even all the horrors she had seen in the mines could not compare to the prospect of ending her life as a shrike’s meal. The Sadorian clawshrike ate its victims while they were still alive.

Her whole body screaming at her with fatigue, Raychel still ran on, fear giving her the strength and speed she needed to keep ahead of the creature. Eventually, its cries and footsteps sounded further and further off. Raychel began to think she had made it away.

She burst out of the woods into an open glen, and crashed head long into the barrel chest of a tall, bearded man carrying a hunting rifle. The wind was knocked out of her from the impact and the two of them fell in a tumble to the ground. As she lay on the ground, struggling for breath, she heard raucous laughter all around them.

She looked up and saw several others in hunting gear standing in a semi-circle around them. One of them was helping the man she had run into to his feet. Another man was bent over her, looking her up and down. “They never told us we could find these kinds of trophies on this preserve,” he said, eliciting more laughter.

The only woman in the group, a tall blonde that stood a good head taller than her, helped Raychel to her feet. The bearded man came walking over, cradling his rifle across one arm. She could see from the logo on his jacket that he was a safari guide. “What in the seven moons of Fornacia are you doing here, girl?”

Raychel did not reply. Her attention was at the far side of the clearing opposite them. A pair of float trucks with the Boke Industries logo emblazoned on the sides sat waiting along a service road.

The bearded man grabbed her by the scruff of her jumpsuit and dragged her away from the main group, back to the tree line from where she had emerged. “You’re one of those that escaped from the mine last night, aren’t you?” he growled under his breath at her. “Where are the rest of you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Raychel answered, knowing her ruse was pathetic. The jumpsuit she wore was issued only to those imprisoned in the mines. She couldn’t have been more obvious if her fugitive status was stenciled across her forehead. “Let me go, please.”

“Not a chance, sweetie,” her captor answered. He favored her with a nasty, yellow-toothed smile. “Catching you is going to earn me a nice fat bonus from Mr. Boke.”

“C’mon, Sweeny. What’s the holdup?” One of the hunters called.

“Be with you in just a moment,” he called back. “Just taking care of some company business.”

The last word was barely out of his mouth when a familiar shriek sounded from behind them. Sweeny’s chest exploded in a gout of blood as the clawshrike emerged from the foliage and impaled him from behind with one of its speared claws. Sweeny was screaming as the beast lifted him off his feet.

Raychel heard several of the other hunters curse and begin firing as the shrike already began feasting on Sweeny’s body. The laser bolts that struck its thick hide only served to further anger the already enraged beast. It thundered forward, ignoring her and heading for the safari group, swinging its other deadly claw. Raychel saw the woman cut cleanly in half.

The initial shock wore off quickly and she knew what she had to do next. Running at full tilt, she sprinted across the clearing, ignoring the carnage around her, and made for the nearest float truck.

Scrambling over the side, she saw that the ignition was in standby, rather than shutdown. A quick push of a button was all it took to shift the vehicle back into full power mode and she threw the throttles forward. The truck canted to one side as she twisted the steering column hard over, turning the vehicle back the way it had come. As she engaged the main drive, she saw only one hunter still standing, covered in blood and viscera, running to catch up with her.

For a moment, mercy overrode her sense of survival and she began to slow the vehicle. Those hunters were innocent, unknowing bystanders, and did not deserve to be left behind to be slaughtered. She stood in the drivers seat and reached out to help the man in. He was only a meter away from taking her hand when the clawshrike impaled him from behind as it had with Sweeny. The hunter looked dumbly down at the claw protruding from his chest for a moment, before the clawshrike swept him up and dragged him off into the forest.

Raychel sank back down into her seat and watched as the animal melted back into the woods. The entire clearing was covered in blood and torn flesh. Already carrion birds were descending on the scene to fight over scraps.

Raychel engaged the drive once more and steered the truck down the road, out of the game preserve.

© Copyright 2015 AuthorJJMadden (captaindancer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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