1st Chapter Madness - Off the Grid

This is the prologue to my second release

When I started this one, I felt some real pressure. My debut novel had done really well, and I was in the headspace that following it was going to be impossible. While it didn’t sell as well as Karaoke Night, this one does hold the distinction of being my wife’s favorite book of mine.

Prologue

Oregon, 1808

Talutah lay on the frozen ground, her swollen belly pointing towards the heavens, her view of which was blocked by the tree canopy. She wished for nothing more than to birth her child in the presence of the spirits of the Earth, but she also welcomed the protection that the leaves offered. Winters were harsh in her part of the world, and while the chill still settled in her bones, snow was unable to penetrate the barrier that Mother Nature provided.

The little one was coming soon, yet Talutah had no idea what to expect. This was not her firstborn child, but it was the first one born to something other than a human male. The child to come was to be her gift to the one that had protected her from the white man. Talutah now wished that she had perished with the rest of her tribe when the fur traders had turned violent.

Life had been much simpler before the white man arrived. Food had been plentiful, the men fishing and hunting to keep everyone fed and happy. There was peace in the land, but the arrival of the fur traders had changed things. Greed became the norm, with war the inevitable end to the petty squabbling.

Talutah had managed to talk her tribe into moving further inland, her role as the spirit shaman making her one to trust, away from the river and the routes that the traders commonly traversed. That had not sat well with the white men, though, as they did not like the idea of their trading partners fleeing in the night. The men had tracked the tribe down, slaughtering the men and having their way with the women before slicing them open and leaving them for dead. They had taken the children, most likely to sell them into the slave trade.

To her great shame, Talutah had run while her people were rent asunder. Their screams had become quieter with each passing step, yet she could still hear them ringing in her ears in the moments before sleep arrived.

Running had proven to be futile. The white men were expert trackers, and one of them had found her while she slept, placing a hand over her mouth and fucking her, the smell of blood on his fingers causing Talutah to gag as he rutted her over and over. When the man was fucked dry, he had sliced open the tender area behind her knees before flipping her over and smashing her kneecaps with a rock, the force of the blows sending the bones back and out through the cuts in the back of her leg.

He had left her that way, immobile and waiting for death. Talutah had called upon all the spirits, begging them to help, but there was only one who had answered. When she first saw him creep through the trees in the early morning mist, she believed that she must be dreaming. The Wendigo was a gruesome sight to behold, his tattered flesh and exposed bones that of a dead man walking.

Yet, Talutah thought him beautiful, his resplendent rack of horns dripping as the morning dew settled upon his form. Those drops trickled down his exposed skull, the shape of his face almost equine is its exquisite beauty. He had reached out to her with large hands, the skin stretched tightly over long clawed fingers, touching her face gently.

She had begged for help, and he had delivered. The Wendigo had carried her deep into the forest to a sheltered spot that was drier than other parts of the woods. He had tended to her wounds, fed and watered her, and made sure that she was comfortable. All that he had asked in return was that she lay with him on occasion, which she had done so willingly.

When the sickness began, and fever told hold of her body, Talutah had known that she was with child. As she lay here now, it was clear that this was no ordinary pregnancy. Her belly had swollen in a matter of days, the kicks of the child inside feeling like razor blades tearing at her innards.

Talutah called to the spirits for help once more, the pain coursing through her body almost impossible to bear. The child was coming, much too soon, and she suddenly felt alone and afraid. The Wendigo had abandoned her at the very moment her stomach had begun to swell, as though repulsed at the sight of her changing body. In truth, though, she believed she had seen fear shine through his usually lifeless black eyes before he had fled into the forest.

The cold ground had a numbing effect on her flesh, frost penetrating her buckskin clothing, although not quite deep enough to dull the pain in her abdomen as the child moved again. There was no denying that it was coming now, so, Talutah freed herself from her clothing as best she could, her bare belly glistening with the sweat that now coated her body.

She looked on in horror as the child within moved, the skin on her belly stretched to the limits, spreading in directions that it was not designed to go. The child wanted out, but it was not prepared to take the path that little ones usually followed. Instead, it tore open her stomach with its antlers, clawed hands raking for purchase on her blood-soaked skin.

Before the world went dark, Talutah watched as the creature leaped from her belly using long, slender legs that bent backward, like those of a grasshopper. Now free, it hopped in circles, shaking its head, trying to free itself from the gore that clung to its antlers.

The creature dug its feet into the earth, razor-sharp claws puncturing the hard ground with little effort. Pushing herself upright, she unleashed a scream that seemed too big for one so small, the sound echoing out across the land beyond the small forest clearing.

Hungry now, she stepped forward and sniffed at her still warm host. She felt no familial connection to the woman before her. Instead, she saw it as nothing more than her chance to eat, an opportunity to sate the bloodlust that coursed throughout her veins. Lowering her oversized head, she tore into the corpse, ripping out chunks of innards and gulping them down in a single swallow.

Before long, the body of Talutah was little more than exposed bones and shredded buckskin. With just a single meal, the creature was already starting to grow. Sniffing the air, she honed in on more prey, but more importantly, she smelled her creator. With another bloodcurdling scream, she dropped onto all fours and sprung off in the direction of his scent.