Nasferas: The Begotten

3

Tranz beamed and kissed Tarisha on the cheek. 

"I'll tell Father to make ready the extra settles. What can we expect from your stores of food?

"At least fifteen harvesting cycles worth, possibly a little more," Tarisha said. 

Tranz hopped up and raced out of the hovel. When he opened the door a flash from an explosion below lit up the skyline behind him. He turned and looked at them again. "We'll all be safe ... I promise you." He disappeared into the darkness.

Davidar stood in the doorway and watched the town below burn. His school. The shop where he apprenticed. A plaza in the middle of town where the kids had gathered to play games and mingle with friends. His heart skipped a beat when he thought of the giant rock in the center of the plaza being destroyed. The large diamond-shaped beacon had stood there his entire life. 

After he finished placing a few pairs of pants, an extra shirt, and undergarments into a bag, he grabbed his Scabbard, Scinto, and some pellets from under the bed. His father sent the scabbard to him a few weeks after he left. Davidar had never seen anything quite like it. The note stated that his father would teach him how to use the weapon when he returned and if wielded appropriately, and with respect, the scabbard couldn't be matched as a melee weapon.

His pet Cog, Rauz, stirred in his tank. 

"I'll miss you, old friend," Davidar said, leaning over the glass. As if he had heard him and understood, the nocturnal creature's small snout peeked through the opening in its burrow and snorted, creating a puff of dirt. 

Davidar reached into a small container next to Rauz's tank and clutched a handful of insects he'd harvested for special occasions. He placed the squirming, crawling critters next to Rauz's burrow. 

Rauz's snout poked up, sniffing through the hole. Then he turned around and went back to sleep, knowing the food would be there when he woke. Davidar took the entire container of bugs and dropped them into Rauz's tank. Unfortunately, they would probably be his last meal. Davidar struggled to hold back the tears and wiped them away with his shirt sleeve. 

Once he finished packing he found Aleese sitting on the floor in her room holding a graph of her "friend". She called him her "friend" but Treylor and Aleese had never been friends. She'd dated him since the day they had met. Everyone had known for a while that the two would be betrothed soon. 

Their father had raved about the boy wonder, calling him the best pilot he'd ever met. No one had heard from either after they left for the war. The military had listed their father and his wingman as missing in action. Aleese held out hope as they all had for both of them. 

Davidar knelt next to Aleese and rested his hand on her shoulder. She turned and buried her head into his chest, sobbing. His hand swirled in gentle circles on her back to calm her. 

"We have to go, Aleese," he whispered in her ear. 

She blubbered, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "I miss him so much. Now everything's gone. We should sit here and wait for it all to end."

"Don't talk like that. We will get through this as a family. Somewhere out there is a new world for us where we can start fresh and have long full lives." Davidar felt he could be the voice of reason.

Aleese nodded. 

Davidar lifted her to her feet and grabbed the bag next to the bed. "Are you set?"

"That's everything." 

"I'll put this out front for you. Go and see how Alek and Dram are getting on." 

The twins, still in their mid-youth and halfway through school, were built like their father. Their father's pudgy face, but their physiques told a different story. They were short but thick with muscle, and strong.

Every day Dram came closer to beating Davidar in a tossing match. If it weren't for Davidar's height advantage, Dram would win. 

Alek didn't like sports and clung to the arts.  

His brother's appearance matched almost molecule for molecule but not their demeanor. One wouldn't know it by looking at them but Dram was calm. Alek had an explosive temper and always started arguments, never letting anyone else have the last word. Jet black hair fell about their shoulders like feathers teetering on a fence. They liked to tuck the hair behind their ears. Dram usually tucked his on the right side. Alek did both and that's how most identified them. 

Davidar reached the front of the house with his and Aleese's bags. The two boys had on their gray and gold pinstriped flight suits; exact replicas of the elite fighter squadron's suits. A large crate sat between them. Their faces looked flat and emotionless, no doubt contemplating their fate. 

"Tranz just came by on his scoot," Dram announced. 

"They'll be here in a few moments." Tarisha continued sifting through the boxes of stores.

"How many cycles do you think, Mother?" Davidar asked. 

She counted. "I was incorrect. There seems only to be ten cycles worth." 

Davidar heard an intense concern in her voice. It wasn't like her, as she always kept calm, and never scolded or raised her voice. Tarisha stood a little taller and much thinner than Aleese despite having four children. Davidar always thought she would have at least one more if not two. However, when the war started, their mother and father decided not to try for a fifth. 

Davidar wrapped his arms around her and looked to the sky in front of their dwelling. Scattered fires below billowed black smoke. 

It won't be long before they'll be here. Not long at all...

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