Ferocity: The Ferocity Series, #1

Chapter One

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All was quiet except for the rustling leaves. Rune leaned forward, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. From her perch in the large banyan, she could barely pick out her brothers, Judson and Abel, who stood at the ready nearly seven feet below her. Judson rested his back against a banana tree about thirty yards away. His black tuft of hair was the only indicator of his presence as the rest of his body was camouflaged with mud, which clung to his chest hair in thick clumps. Abel was twenty or thirty yards away on the opposite side of her perch; he was crouched down, hidden in the tall grass. Although with his blonde hair, he, like Rune, was a bit easier to spot. Well-armed, the three of them waited, poised in this triangular position, watching at the water’s edge for a sign of the Batook that had taken to plaguing their lives.

The three siblings had hunted the Batook for months. He was first discovered rooting in their garden almost a year ago. It was during one of the fiercest droughts when the Batook made himself at home in their garden, staking claim to what was left of their arrowroot—which has since ceased production—and trampling whatever else lay in his path. Since then, the hunt of the Batook had all but consumed the siblings’ minds. He had become a legendary figure of sorts, leaving his markings on the trunks of trees nearby their Hogar and haunting dinner table conversations. The last of his kind, the Batook was seemingly fearless of humans; however, upon approaching him, he would chatter his teeth and lunge after his would-be attackers with a lowered head and powerful tusks. Abel had taken the brunt of his assaults once before, and a horrible jagged scar was his reward for his inability to get out of the way fast enough; he was fortunate he wasn’t left with a permanent limp.

In the twilight, Rune narrowed her eyes toward the Waloo, a small pond in the center of the siblings’ formation. The boar had been spotted drinking from the Waloo for five nights in a row now. Apparently, after his last run-in with the siblings, he had abandoned his den near Riacho in the South and was forced to forfeit the stream’s cooler water in return for his safety.

The sky’s red haze reflected back from the Waloo, and when a nearby brush began to shake out of rhythm with its neighbors, Rune pulled back the arrow in her bow, alerting. Abel was the first to notice his sister’s signal, and he gestured his handcrafted hatchet toward Judson, who responded by crouching into position.

Only moments later, the Batook broke through the underbrush, already swinging his tusks to avoid any entanglements with hanging creepers and vines. Once he’d broken free, he stomped his feet in the mud near the bank and snorted loudly. Then, he cautiously approached the water’s edge, glancing over both shoulders before he began to drink. The setting sun had outlined the animal’s shadow with a golden glow, and the misshapen fur at the nape of his neck created an image of razor-sharp claws nearly a foot in length.

The siblings barely breathed.

As the Batook drank, his sipping created tiny ripples in the water, which spread across the pond to the water’s edge. It was the sign that Abel had waited for—to know that the Batook was finally comfortable—that he was finally relaxed.

Abel shot a knowing glance across the way to Judson, who gripped his spear tightly as he settled into his stance; then, Abel shot out of the tall grass in a full sprint toward the Batook, his hatchet flailing above his head. Startled, the Batook snorted and inhaled a mouth full of water. He then squealed and took off running directly toward the clearing where Judson hid, jumping over downed branches and thrashing his head from side to side, shredding through the bramble and underbrush. When he made it to a clearing, he slowed his speed and appeared as if he might look over his shoulder, until Judson sprang out from behind the banana tree.

The Batook squealed and skidded to a halt, scrambling to turn just as Judson’s spear plunged into the ground behind his heels; its bamboo haft quivered from the force of the impact. The Batook bolted in his new direction, covering about five feet only to run into Abel, who was still swinging his hatchet. The Batook snorted and squealed a challenge. He was cornered. He lowered his head to charge, aiming to take another stab at Abel’s leg. Suddenly he dodged sharply to the left and took off back toward the pond.

Judson leapt over the downed limbs and bramble and tugged his spear out of the ground. He bellowed, Take the shot, Rune! Take it now!

Rune drew back her bow, and arrows rained from the tree. Shot after shot, as fast as she could draw and release, her arrows stitched the ground only inches behind the Batook before leaves and branches blocked her view.

The boar was now in a full panic, as he scrambled around the edge of the pond splashing through the water and kicking up mud in his haste to escape. Still, Abel was on his heels, and Judson was not far behind.

Judson breathed hard and, clenching his spear tightly, ran with all his might to catch up to his brother. Now sprinting right alongside him, Judson smiled and waved.

Not now, dummy, grunted Abel.

What? Are you afraid I’ll beat you? said Judson.

Not a chance! he laughed.

The two dashed after the boar, grinning. Rune rolled her eyes at their juvenile sport and leaped from the banyan. Idiots, she muttered under her breath. She slung her bow upon her back and darted into the jungle on a path to get ahead of them, sparing only a moment to reclaim her arrows.

The brothers continued giving chase. Soon they began to close the distance, so Abel nodded to Judson, and he, following Abel’s lead, fanned out to the side.

Having run several yards ahead, Rune stopped and scrambled up another banyan tree. While she couldn’t get as high off the ground this time, she was still able to find a decent vantage point, which allowed her to see over the underbrush and to spot her brothers still running after the Batook. However, they now seemed to be fanning out to either side of the boar; yet, they were still fully engaged in their little game. Unbelievable, she exclaimed under her breath. Her untamable blonde curls rippled away from her head as she shook it. Although the boys had temporarily forgotten about the chase, it worked in their advantage as the Batook, no longer sensing danger close by, began slowing his pace.

As the two boys and their quarry approached Rune’s banyan tree, she climbed a bit higher to get a better vantage point. Her mud-covered toes wrapped around the branches as if they were created for this specific purpose, and one hand reached above the other, hoisting her above the underbrush. Once she was securely balanced on a large branch, she readied her bow, and withdrawing an arrow from her pack, she nocked it. Her brothers were still about forty yards out, and still running alongside the massive banyan; The Batook however, still maintained a lead of some yards. Huh, she sighed, Looks like I’m going to be the one to slay the legend. Her tanned arms flexed as she took aim at the large swine racing toward her, squealing in a maddening panic. The thread snapped from her fingers, and the arrow took flight. It soared downwards, spinning in a vortex of red and white feathers, cutting its way through the tangled branches of the banyan until it came to rest nine feet below in the warm flesh of the Batook. Before Rune could even straighten her arms, her brothers were on the boar impaling him with spears and hacking at his tusks with the hatchet.

What are you doing? Rune demanded, running up to them.

We got the Batook! shouted Judson.

As Rune got closer to her brothers, she asked, "What are you talking about? I got the Batook."

No, Judson and I did, said Abel, Judson’s spear went in right beneath his shoulder, and then I jumped on him with the hatchet to make sure he wouldn’t double back with his tusks.

Judson and Abel stepped back to reveal their kill. What they said was true: The Batook lay on his side with the spear protruding from beneath his right shoulder blade, and his face and head had been badly mauled by Abel’s hatchet.

Oh yeah? said Rune, lifting Batook’s head, Then, what’s this?

The move revealed a hand-carved arrow with bright red feathers buried squarely in the boar’s chest.

No way! cried Abel, Judson must have slowed him with the spear, so you could get such a good shot.

Oh, so now you admit my shot was good, retorted Rune crossing her arms. Her hands, stained with pig’s blood, marred her animal skin jacket.

Sure, it was good for someone shooting at a dead target, Abel laughed.

He wasn’t dead when I shot; he was still running! said Rune.

Sure he was, Abel rolled his eyes as he stooped to wrench his brother’s weapon from the fabled Batook.

Hey, she may have hit it first, said Judson, eyeing his sister. It was a good shot.

Thank you, smiled Rune as she curtsied. All the while, she glared at Abel.

Don’t give in to her, Judson, said Abel teasing. She’ll get a big-head.

Come on, man. Big up, said Judson, Who cares who killed him; we got the Batook, right? He dragged the back of his hand over his forehead, accidentally smearing the mud on his face.

Right you are, brother. We did get the Batook, Abel smiled, And you know I’m just teasing you, Rune. Of course it was a great shot. Where were you at anyway?

Up over there, said Rune pointing to a branch of the banyan, a good forty yards away and at least nine feet up.

Why did you move? said Abel, who still sat on the ground, gutting the swine among the creepers.

Well, you guys started heading off around the banyan, so I had to cut through and get ahead of you before you were right up on me.

Oh, was Abel’s only response. So should we quarter him here, or do you guys want to find some branches so we can bind him?

Come on, Rune, said Judson, Let’s go get some branches.

The two unsheathed machetes and headed toward the banyan. With its extensive root system, the tree had branches to spare, and its branches were of a more manageable thickness. Once they’d selected a branch to suit their task, the two sliced into the tree, and a root-like branch came crashing to the ground. Before collecting the branch, the pair slashed at the jungle creepers for use as bindings. With the vines coiled around their shoulders and both carrying one end of the branch, Judson and Rune went back to meet their brother who sat amid the swine’s innards in a sea of blood and creepers. They stopped short to avoid the mess when they heard a rustling noise behind them.

Was the Batook alone? asked Abel.

Rune shrugged, but Judson positioned himself with his spear, ready to jab at whatever creature should emerge. But it was only Petra, Judson’s pet fox. The fox slunk through the mire and latched on to the Batook’s liver.

Hey, Abel cried, Where do you think you’re going with that?

But Petra had already dove into the underbrush, swishing her tail behind her.

Judson, you’ve got to learn to control that fox! Abel said as he used a vine to tether one of the Batook’s hooves to the branch.

Perhaps, I will, when you learn to use a range weapon, Judson retorted.

All right. That’s enough, Rune laughed. Aren’t we supposed to be celebrating?

Abel glared at Judson, but he only smiled back. The boys worked together to move the boar’s body while Rune secured the Batook’s limbs to the branch by tying intricate knots. Within the hour, the three were on their way back to their Hogar, with Abel and Rune holding one end of the branch and Judson balancing the other end on his shoulder while the wise old Batook swayed between them.

Chapter Two

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Sunken into a mesh of charcoal-colored fur, the ebony eyes glimmered and flashed with the reflection from the fire, suggesting the power and craftiness that once was the Batook.

After they had cleaned the body, they impaled it and dangled it above the flames, balancing it on two forked branches, turning it into a makeshift spit that would allow the pig to cook for the night. The flames licked around the swine’s plump belly, searing away the hair and turning the skin a golden brown. After the dark smoke had carried away the rancid smell of burnt hair, the succulent smell of roasting pork permeated throughout the camp, while the Batook’s head overlooked his own roasting from its new and lofty position atop an especially long spear shaft. As the meat cooked, the siblings skipped around the fire, hooting and hollering, and kicking up sand as they reenacted their hunt with exaggerated grandeur.

Once they had finished their dance, Abel took a knife to the boar’s shoulder, putting the slices on a flat rock that he’d balanced directly over the flames to allow a portion of the meat to cook faster. Then, Abel suggested a bonfire, which sent the three back into the jungle to gather more branches. And get creepers, lots of creepers, cried Abel, I want smoke that reaches the heavens and blots out the stars, so that the entire world may know of the death of Batook. His eyes blazed wildly as he looked up to the sky and beat upon his hairy chest. His siblings roared in agreement, the stomping of their feet thundering on the ground before they hurried into the jungle, machetes brandished, to tackle the vines and climbers. Upon their return, they stoked the fire and began a game of tag with the boar’s head serving as the base. By then, the fire, much larger than their usual one, burned white at its core and was reflected in all the eyes gathered around it. Its orange and yellow flames soared above their heads, sparks speckling the night sky with extra stars that danced and wove their way to oblivion.

Their running to and fro had left the siblings winded, and they collapsed to the sand. Upon catching his breath, Judson said, Can we eat him now?

Abel pulled his knife and cut into the steaks on the cooking stone. A clear, warm juice rolled out of white meat and bubbled on the hot stone.

It’s ready! Abel announced, Let’s eat!

Judson charged toward the fire with his knife, his mouth already watering in anticipation of the savory meal.

Wait! said Rune, We should say grace, and we should do something to thank theBatook.

Thank the Batook? laughed Abel.

No, no she’s right. We should offer thanks. The Batook was a legend after all, said Judson. He bowed his head. Dear God, You live in heaven and honored is Your name. You have a mighty kingdom on earth and in heaven. Thank you for a good hunt, and for the capture of the Batook, the largest boar on the island. We are grateful to You for our daily bread and our debtors. Deliver us from evil.

Abel guffawed, interrupting the prayer, but Rune corrected her brother by momentarily lifting her head and glaring at him.

It’s Your kingdom forever, Judson continued, Amen.

Amen, echoed Rune as she narrowed her eyes once more at her brother.

What? said Abel, He’s the one who screwed up the prayer!

Rune didn’t answer him but only maintained her glare for a few moments longer. Then, she lowered her head once again assuming her solemn pose and made her way toward the Batook’s mighty head. She removed a necklace made of twisted vines and flowers from about her neck and twined it around the ears of the boar. Abel and Judson nodded at her gesture but readied their carved wooden plates.

The meal was spent in quiet except for the lewd sounds of eating. The Batook’s head, now sagging on its post, oversaw the evening’s festivities. Rune was the first to finish, and she reclined on her elbows in the sand, staring dreamily into the night sky while her brothers still feasted. Abel leaned against a log still within range of the fire’s heat, picking at the last of his steak with his soot-covered fingers. Judson sat nearest to the flames; he was hunched over a wooden plate, shoving whole handfuls of pork into his mouth. Warm juice dribbled down his chin and dripped white streaks from his fingers to his elbows. 

Judson, you’re disgusting! cried Rune, looking at her brother.

Judson ignored her and kept eating, occasionally tossing burnt pieces of fat to Petra who sat behind him in the sand.

Abel, do you see this? He’s so sickening!

Abel answered, Yeah. Did you see how it ran?

Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about, said Rune.

It was so fast!

It’s nauseating, is what it is. He’s ruined my appetite, said Rune. She glared at Judson, but he simply took another bite, allowing the juice to roll off his chin and onto his chest.

Yeah, said Abel, oblivious to his sister’s end of the conversation. But I got him; I stayed on his heels the whole time!

Rune turned her attention from Judson to Abel who was staring into the cold eyes of the Batook. What are you talking about? she said.

"And I was never winded, Abel continued. He sucked the fat from his finger, pulling it from his mouth with a smacking of his lips. He shook it at the head. And I don’t even remember being tired. Not once. Even on the hike back. Sure, I gutted him beforehand, but I swear, he had to be at least a hundred pounds still."

Um...Abel, Rune started.

"A hundred pounds, gutless! And we carried, I carried most of him, for at least a good two or three miles," a mindless Abel continued on.

Hello! A hand appeared waving only inches from Abel’s face. Your sister is speaking! Rune called, now standing above him.

Startled, Abel jerked his head back as if dodging an attack and walloped the back of it against the log.

Crap, Rune! he said, sitting up, You scared the heck out of me!

Rune doubled over with laughter, pointing at Abel.

It’s not funny! Abel said, rubbing the growing lump on the back of his head, That really hurt.

"Well, I was talking to you until you went off to La La Land, Rune chuckled, But look! Look at Judson!"

Judson still shoveled in the shredded pork hand-over-soot-stained-hand, licking his fingers and slurping at the juice.

Goodness, Judson! shouted