WILDLING

Chapter One

            The sea was churning in the cove below. The grey-green water was edged with sprays of foam that were in violent collision with the shards of dark granite jutting from the water. The looming grey of a storm was fast closing in and I realised I should return to shelter before it reached the shores.

            The heather covered hills were being battered by the winds, growing angrier with each passing gust. I pulled the coat tighter about me, lifting the hood to cover my hair as I followed the old, broken road quickly, knowing it would take the guts of an hour to walk back home. It was a steep climb out of the cove, and despite the fact I was well used to climbing all over the heather and bracken covered rises, my pace had my heart pounding against my chest wall as thunderously as the waves beat upon the gravelly shore below.

            Although the rain was still some distance away, the drizzle carried on the wind brought the reality of its nearing proximity and I looked to the peak, knowing it was still some distance away. I put my head down, focusing on the road, once a black flat snake upon the landscape, now but a shattered stone path, taken over by nature: sprigs of dried tussock and grass springing up through small fissures. I often found myself wondering what the world had been like before the Gloom, when vehicles ruled these roads. It was difficult to imagine the rusted husks that now lay beside the path, rolling over the tarmac. It was long before my existence and the shells lay abandoned, vine encroached and eroded down by time and weather.

            When I finally reached the top, the clouds were roiling angrily, the darkened underside shadowing the bubbling seas. A bright streak of lightening traced the sky and a gust of wind followed the crack of thunder. Rain began to fall, fat stinging drops smearing my face. I turned away from the sight, my eye catching a silhouette some distance away upon the flat of the hill.

            My initial reaction set off a spine-prickling fear, the hairs rising like a mongrel’s hackles in wary defence. This part of the world was so remote, we saw very little in the way of strangers. For a long moment his hooded, predatory gaze followed me. With a sickening clench of my gut I thought he might be one of the Blighted, but I couldn’t tell whether he was one of the accursed creatures or just a Drifter, wandering Eire’s quiet lands.

            He remained still and far enough away that I did not pull the bow from my back and shoot him on the spot. I was a lone woman and if he was Blighted and my shot was bad, I would be as good a free meal as he could hope to catch. So I walked on, keeping an eye on the distant man, and quickened my pace along the road, trying to keep the rain from my eyes. His tall form did not move.

            Paranoia had me looking over my shoulder constantly. When I no longer saw him, I broke into a run, taking the gravelly road at a dangerous pace down the other side of the hill. My leather boots slid on the broken road, but I kept moving, my long strides bringing me closer to home. From this part of the rise, I could see it in the vale below. Smoke rose from the chimney of the cottage, the small building sitting sedately and safely on the flat between the hills. Barely a tree grew in this part of Eire, it was too windy and rocky for much to grow but tussock and heather, and the cottage was a stark grey shape in the autumn coloured landscape.

            My legs were tired when I reached the low stone cottage. It had been built a long time ago, long before the Gloom took most of the world. In a time when people had light and warmth and life. I knew no better - nor did Old Oisin as I called him - but he had been told stories of before the Gloom, when cities had millions of people living in them. Those places no longer existed. Whatever survived the wars were compounds of people, ruled by militias and councils. I knew nothing of these places. Like Drifters and the Blighted, we were frowned upon by those living in compounds, trapped behind their stone and steel walls, knowing nothing of what lived beyond it.