* * *
What was that infernal sound? Tip covered his exposed ear with his arm in an attempt to block the noise. Nothing helped. The chirping bird seemed bound and determined to sing its way through the night. Although that seemed odd because birds usually sang in the morning. He pried his eyes open, bringing the vegetation growing around the perimeter of his work area into view.
He bolted upright and scrambled to his feet. The sun peaked over the horizon, splashing the tops of the plants in light. Morning had arrived. A lump formed in his throat. What had he done? He’d run like a coward when Sri asked for so little, just a promise. Had the mark appeared on Sri? He sprinted toward town and his house. He had to speak with his brother.
The path was unusually quiet as he darted between the rows of houses. His front door stood just ahead and nothing seemed amiss. He barreled through it and called out for Sri. Running up the stairs, he found his brother’s door open. Not only was the room empty, but it seemed vacant. His brother’s favorite hat that usually hung on the dresser mirror was gone. The bed was neatly made. In the kitchen, he found remnants of breakfast. Everyone must have eaten and left the house without him. He swallowed hard. Had it really happened?
Rushing outside, he saw his next-door neighbor. Looking at him, her eyes glistened and she shook her head, pointing toward the main path through town. The council must have already been here and inspected Sri, finding the mark. She reached out to him as he backed away.
Without a word, he ran in the direction of the most likely town exit from which Sri would be expelled. His breath grew short and the morning dew clung to his skin. In the distance, he could see his parents and a few other family members, along with the council, standing about twenty feet from the electric barrier. He darted around them without hesitation, even when his father called out, skidding to a stop just before colliding with the barrier. As he scanned the path toward the neighboring town where Sri would catch the air transport, he could see his brother striding away.
“No!” he yelled. “Wait!” He signaled the guardsman to open the barrier, but the man shrugged and did nothing.
Sri stopped and looked back at him, pointing to a spot behind his left ear. Even at the current distance, Tip could see the bright red mark. Anyamae had chosen him. His brother hiked his backpack higher on his shoulders and smiled. As he patted a small pouch strapped to his waist, one that likely held the coins he’d mentioned yesterday, he winked and pulled his favorite hat low on his head. Then, he turned, stepping off the path and into the fields, out of sight.
As he bit his lip, Tip inhaled a deep, shaky breath. His father beckoned to him from behind. As a tear rolled down his cheek, he whispered, “I promise.”
Rebecca P McCray Bio & Links
Rebecca McCray is a financial consultant by day and fantasy world-builder by night. Her short story, The Dreaded Birthday, takes place in the same world as her young adult novel, The Journey of the Marked, a finalist in The Wishing Shelf Book Awards. She enjoys building out a world that is a cross between high-fantasy and gritty sci-fi and plans to publish the second novel in the series in the first half of 2016. Besides being an avid reader, she loves to travel and experience new cultures. Additional information and links to social media can be found on her website: www.rebeccamccray.com
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The Falstaff Vampire Werewolves
Lynne Murray
Copyright 2015 Lynne Murray
All Rights Reserved