“I understand what you say, but these two-legged haven’t been seen in a long time. Their blood and flesh was tasty and yes, they were dangerous, but they’re gone,” one of the leaders sends.
“They aren’t gone. There is a large lair of them still which endangers all of us,” Michael retorts.
“What does that have to do with anything? If they are in their lair, they cannot hurt us. We will hunt them like any of the others,” another says.
Michael sends an image of the two-leggeds’ lair. “You won’t be able to hunt them in their lair. You won’t be able to get to them.”
“Then what danger are they if they stay in their lair?”
Michael, playing his card, sends an image of the fire that rains from the night sky and kills many of their packs when they are out on the hunt. The others shy away from the image as if it were actually above them, with many looking up through the branches arching overhead.
“The rain of death is from the two-leggeds.”
Silence folds around their circle as the leaders take in this information, slowly recovering from their fear. Michael has purposely shut himself down to a large degree so that their ‘conversation’ can’t be heard by the other pack members squatting in the woods.
“How can you be sure this is from the two-leggeds?”
“I just am,” Michael replies.
“We cannot fight this thing in the sky. Why have you called us?”
“We can attack their lair,” Michael states.
“You said we cannot do such a thing. You said we won’t be able to get to them. So what are you saying?” another leader asks.
Michael sends them images of when he helped some of his current pack members over the high wall when they couldn’t get out. “We can do the same to their walls.”
“If it is that easy, why haven’t you and your pack done it? We have felt your numbers. Surely you aren’t afraid with so many?”
“There are many of the two-leggeds, and you know how tough they are to bring down. These are even stronger,” Michael says, showing more images of his encounters.
“We will lose many if we try that.”
“We will lose more if we don’t. If we are to survive, the two-leggeds must go,” Michael says, sending another image of the rain of death and packs vanishing under its onslaught. “The night death will kill us all.”
“Perhaps we will just move then.”
“Where will you go? You are already moving because of food. You have felt the packs and know that they are everywhere. How much time until food runs out?” Michael gives them an image of the countryside around. “Where will you hide from the killing ball of light? There is nothing past here that will shelter you.”
The pictures Michael presents cause a stir and then long moments of silence. They sense the truth in the images. Michael senses their amazement that there is anything other than what they’ve seen; that there is such a thing as large open areas without shelter. Coming on the heels of their amazement is fear. If they are to hunt in this new area, and with nowhere else to go, they will have to face the night rain and the decimation of the packs.
The silence continues as the leaders, each with their own thoughts, try to think of another way. With the images Michael sent them, they know that a direct attack on the two-legged lair will result in many of them dying. On the other hand, many of them are already dying and that will continue.
In communion with each other, the leaders arrive at a decision. “Very well, we will attack. Show us what we must do.”
If he were capable of doing so, Michael would smile inwardly. As it is, and as much as he can hold a sensory perception, he feels satisfied. He shows them once again how to scale the high walls by placing things against them, and that they will need to gather all of the packs together if they are to be successful.
“It will take many nights of running to gather the packs. Some are far away and will have to travel. Finding food for so many will be difficult,” one leader states, who stands above the others and is speaking for them.
“Tell to them to stay in place but to be ready when we call,” Michael says. “Until then, inform them to begin gathering items we’ll need to get into the lair.”
“When will we go?”
“Soon,” Michael says.
The meeting concludes. The leaders run off into the night and Michael, knowing he will be hard-pressed to return to his lair before night ends, finds a place to shelter before spending the rest of the night hunting underneath the trees.
About the Author
John O'Brien is a former Air Force fighter instructor pilot who transitioned to Special Operations for the latter part of his career gathering his campaign ribbon for Desert Storm. Immediately following his military service, John became a firefighter/EMT with a local department. Along with becoming a firefighter, he fell into the Information Technology industry in corporate management. Currently, John is writing full-time on the series, A New World.
As a former marathon runner, John lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest and can now be found kayaking out in the waters of Puget Sound, mountain biking in the Capital Forest, hiking in the Olympic Peninsula, or pedaling his road bike along the many scenic roads.
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