Chapter 1

1

The landscape was a vast expanse of scorched soil dotted with trees blackened almost to charcoal by flame. Their twisted branches reached beseechingly to the inky cloud that smothered the sky above and kept the world below in a permanent shadowy twilight. A smoky mist swirled above the black dirt, and in it dark shapes with eyes that glowed and tongues that hung dripping from teeth-filled jaws scavenged. A chance discovery by one of their number, the charred remains of something too slow to flee the inferno that had days earlier swept through, soon brought others to its side until the carcass was a seething mass of gnashing teeth and low growls.

Charam, close to collapse and desperate for rest, ran headlong through the mist towards them, unaware that what he was running towards was far more horrifying than what he was running from. He tripped on a clod of dirt and stumbled forward. His arms shot out to break his fall. His palms hit the ground. A grunt of pain leapt from his lips, attracting the attention of the feasting beasts

Clambering to his feet, Charam glanced over his shoulder and allowed himself a few seconds to catch his breath. In the silence between breaths his ears detected something moving rapidly through the mist towards him. Knowing he could not go back the way he had come, his eyes scoured the smoky landscape and soon found an outcrop of large rocks, ovoid in shape and appearing in the haze like a nest of haphazardly laid eggs.

The best of his energy was already spent, but the instinct for survival propelled him forward. He could hear the panting of whatever it was behind him and soon he had forgotten his original pursuer. His foot came down on something hard. The word ‘stick’ registered and he bent down and snatched it up. Now he had a weapon.

He ran for the rocks, and with the last of his strength, he leapt onto the lowest boulder, yet as he landed the first of the beasts leapt after him. He whimpered as the beast’s snout hit the heel of his foot. He kicked at it, managing to dislodge it so that it fell back into the pack. Wasting no time Charam climbed. His fingertips dug into the rock until they bled, but better to bleed than to perish, he thought. With arms and legs and feet and hands all working together he manoeuvred himself to the next level of rock while below him the ravenous beasts barked and jumped at him with snapping jaws.

Safe for the moment, Charam watched as the dog-like creatures sniffed the rocks and explored alternative points of access to the higher levels. Their whippet thin hind regions seemed disproportionate to their bulky, hair covered head and shoulders, though Charam knew the power those back legs contained. Their teeth, thin and twisted, crowded a narrow snout infested with disease, though he also knew the power in those jaws.

One of them defecated on the rock, drawing the attention of the others who gathered around to sniff the waste. Charam used the opportunity to lever himself upwards between two of the taller boulders thereby putting more distance between himself and those hunting him. By now his fingertips were in tatters. Stabs of stinging pain echoed through his brain each time his mangled digits connected with the surface of the rock. He winced as he clawed his way up, hanging on until his feet found purchase enough to elevate him further towards the top.

The beasts were distracted only momentarily. The smell of fresh flesh was too overpowering, too deliciously enticing. Two of their number ran at the boulder Charam had just vacated. The more powerful of the creatures almost made it to the top and would have failed had its partner not knocked into the back of it and given it the extra lift needed to scramble to exact spot where Charam had been standing.

Charam swallowed hard. Pain ricocheted through every nerve until his eyes had become blurry with tears and his fangs so tightly clamped together that he could only breathe through his nose; his breaths coming in short, sharp snorts. Blood was now running in snaking trails of crimson from his fingers, down his hands, and along both arms. He could see spots of it on the rock beneath each time he looked down at the beast now jumping up at him.

His arms found the summit of the smaller of the two boulders. He pushed with his feet and pulled with arms until his whole body was trembling from the effort of hefting himself up the rock face. When he was safely on top, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the dull sky. He wept openly, the tears running off his cheeks and splashing onto the bare rock. His hand closed around the stick which, although had made his journey more cumbersome than it might have otherwise been, was a comforting presence.