The Chronicles of Amon book 1 LINK

  Chapter 3.

  She worked her way farther out, just beyond ear shot. Stepping carefully and quietly, she moved as slowly as was necessary to remain unnoticed.

  Why was the young male doing that thing with the stone? It was obviously intentional. Thoughts seemed to fly through her mind as she let her imagination run unencumbered. Then reality broke through her introspection. She must remember to avoid calling attention to herself. She wasn’t sure what she would do if confronted. She must watch for any unusual behavior by the young male, or anyone else, for that matter.

  As she got closer she began hearing the commotion. Ahead, she could make out youngsters jumping up into low branches, trying to avoid being trampled. Everyone seemed to be gathered around a small clearing on the jungle floor. Screaming and hooting all but drowned out the fierce roar of the alpha male. Panicked, she ran forward, oblivious of everything but the spectacle playing out ahead.

  She arrived just in time to see the alpha charging toward the young male. She watched in horror as the alpha pummeled the challenger to the ground. The alpha rained down blow after blow. The hapless victim could do little to defend himself. Blood streamed from his head, blinding him to the onslaught. Just when it seemed all was lost, the female saw something she remembered seeing once before. The bloodied young challenger reached up, grasped a sapling, and slammed it down on the alpha’s back. The force of the impact sent both of them sprawling.

  In that brief moment before the alpha resumed his onslaught, the challenger righted himself and staggered blindly into the underbrush. The alpha continued screaming in rage, thrashing this way and that, seeking to finish the kill, but nothing came forth. The challenger had disappeared.

  The female stood there in stunned silence, as did everyone else. The alpha continued thrashing about briefly. But when no challenge presented itself, he soon settled down to catch his breath and regain his composure.

  As was always the case, life in the family quickly went back to normal. The alpha had once again asserted his dominance over them all. Each in turn approached him, demonstrating their acknowledgement of him as their leader.

  She too reluctantly paid her respects. She was deathly afraid he would notice the change that had come over her. But as she approached him, all he did was grunt quietly and turn his back toward her. She groomed him briefly and then quickly backed away. Miraculously, she had gone unnoticed.

  For many days afterwards she managed to slip away from the group, if only briefly. Each time she left, she searched for signs of the young male. She dared not be gone too long for fear of being missed. Still, she saw no signs. He was nowhere to be found.

  Her searches close to the encampment were unsuccessful. Each day estrus grew nearer. Each day her desperation mounted. Frantic to find some means of escape, she widened her search, staying away a little longer each time.

  Then one day, as she approached a small clearing, she heard something. Was it a predator stalking her? No. The sound was coming from in front of her. A predator wouldn’t approach from the front, nor would it make so much noise.

  Then she saw him. The young male was squatting at the far side of the clearing eating a piece of fruit. She hunkered down in the undergrowth, listening and watching intently. She saw his head snap to look in her direction. Had he seen her? Her heart seemed to stop as her fear fought for dominance over anticipation. The male jumped to his feet, facing in her direction. What should she do now? Her instinct told her to flee. But her new-found comprehension told her that she must not.

  She knew she must somehow let him know that she was self-aware, just like him.

  She knew instinctively that she could never survive back with her old family. She was now too different from them. She could not hide her identity forever. She would be singled out and ostracised, eventually driven out of the family. For her to survive now, she would need to bond with another like herself.

  This young male was now what she had become. An outcast. They would now depend on each other if they were to survive and pass on the knowledge and abilities they now possessed.

  Gathering all the courage she could muster, she slowly stood to face him.

  Simian 3.

  Chapter 1.

  He was large . . . larger than any newborn she had ever seen . . . and strangely hairless, except for a thin patch on his head. His face was round, with a very small nose and a narrow slit of a mouth. His feet were formed differently, not with extended digits like hers, but with stubby, evenly aligned toes.

  She wondered if this newborn was a deformity, not unlike the few she had seen before. Those few had not lived long. They had been helpless, unable to cling to their mothers’ fur, unable to reach their mothers’ nipples to suckle, unable to move about in that clumsy fashion typical of other “normal” simian infants. They had weakened quickly, starving, unable to withstand the rough handling by their mothers.

  She, on the other hand, was able to devote her entire attention to her new son. Immediately she had recognized the necessity to provide the extra attention and care her son required. Her mate saw to all her needs. He brought food to her. He built the nest they now occupied. He stood watch, ensuring that she and their son were safe.

  Strangely, though these thoughts came to her, she wasn’t overly concerned. She knew that she and her mate were different, that they had somehow changed in a way unique to them only. The fear and confusion she remembered from the early days of their union was now only a memory which served to help her put events into perspective.

  Pulling her son closer, she knew that she and her mate were different for a reason, and that she held that reason in her arms. A feeling of calm contentment enfolded her as she peered across the nest toward the figure silhouetted against the evening twilight.

  The father of her son seemed reluctant to approach too closely. He just sat there, squatting on the edge of the nest, sniffing the air and scratching. Occasionally he would look toward their newborn and his gaze would become more intent. When he saw she was looking at him, he would gaze into her eyes for a brief moment, then look away quickly. What could he be thinking, she wondered.