A Touch Of Lightning (COMPLETED!)

Chapter 58 The Hunt 2

With reflexes faster than any animal, Callin used the force of his kick to send himself flying back away, flipping through the air to land in a perfect crouch on a branch above and behind him, snarling, still shredding the air with the sound of the lashing rage seething within him. The bear was shaking her head, eyes tightly closed against the explosion of burning pain in her face, completely stunned.

And that image, that face of confused pain, turned off the rage within Callin in one shocking instant. He almost fell off the branch as sudden remorse flooded him. The bear was only acting on natural instincts. A mother, hurling herself into any danger in order to protect her young.

And a memory came crashing into Callin's mind. One he had known was there, but had stayed far away from ever re-living, from ever examining except from a thousand miles away in his own mind.

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The mountain air was crisp. An underlying tingle to it, the herald of the coming winter carried by the wind, a chilly bite. Callin loved it. He and Carl could run hard, could climb trees and play all day without ever getting overheated. Carl, his twin brother, always laughed at how much Callin loved the cool fall breeze.

"Ok Cal! You love cold so much, let's go swimming down at the creek!" Carl called over his shoulder, even as he sprinted headlong toward the path that lead down the valley behind their log cabin to the mountain stream. This time of the year, the mountain stream would be bitter cold from snow melt.

"Race ya!" Carl yelled as he heard Callin tear after him.

"No fair! You got a head start, you cheater!" Callin yelled after him.

"I gotta cheat to beat you because you always cheat and use your power!" Carl yelled back, dodging the thick trunks of the towering Douglas fir trees that the little footpath snaked through.

"Gonna beat you without my powers AND with you cheating!" Callin yelled, leaning forward and throwing all his strength into his legs.

Laughing, calling taunts back and forth, the two young boys flashed through the dappled light and the heady fragrance of the pines and fir trees. Racing towards the stream. Racing towards a nightmare.

Callin's ultra-keen ears caught a startling "POP" of sound, an unnatural sound, filled with energy. And an instant later, he heard something smack into his brothers flesh, heard his brother cry out. He rounded the corner in the trail and saw his brother stagger, his hand on his neck, grasping some strange, feathered object.

Callin was confused. Had a bird just flown into Carl's neck? He could smell his brother's blood, and behind that scent, a painfully sour, sharp scent, unlike anything he had ever scented before. Even as his mind processed the shine of the object on his brother's neck, as he realized it was something made of steel and therefore man-made, his brother fell.

"Carl!" His voice was higher pitched than normal, with a hint of panic coursing through it. Carl had fallen as if his bones had just turned to jello.

Then, that same violent "POP" sound hit his ears, followed by the unmistakable hissing sound of an object approaching at great speed. His reflexes threw him back and to the side, but he wasn't fast enough. Stinging pain and a stunning impact to the side of his neck dropped him to his knees, a starburst of white lights clouding his vision and sending his thoughts reeling.

His hands flew up to the side of his neck, where he found that same object that had attacked his brother. He ripped it out of his flesh and looked at it, recognizing it as some type of dart. A dart with an empty, glass syringe built inside of it. That cutting, sour scent was coming off it in waves, making his eyes water and his nose burn. He threw it aside and tried to climb to his feet, dark fury beginning to lift its head inside.