Blog battle Tuesday! Man of Grace continues with its 4th installment. This week's word: REACH, my genre: SCIENCE FICTION. To read more stories by other battlers, please click HERE and visit Rachael Ritchey's blog. To read the first 3 installments of this tale, please click HERE for part 3 which has links to parts 1 and 2.
A world between
Grace thought she had gotten herself and the baby well out of Walter’s reach. Walter would be miles away. He’d most likely stay in the Camp he’d mentioned. “100 miles,” Grace reasoned although she was very skeptical about the given distance.
Walter was never good with measuring distance, always leaning towards more conservative numbers. It was his deceitful nature to ‘edit’ facts. Nevertheless 100 miles would be a world between them. Mog would surely be out of his reach.
She put on a grand show of emotion once she’d exited the washroom empty handed, using it like hot irons to force Walter from her home before the babe could make a sound. Walter had asked her why she was so anxious when he was leaving with the nest.
You, was the only response she gave and pointed towards the door.
“The busted egg?” He’d peered over her shoulder, brow drawn.
“The shell deflated and liquid spilled out. I tossed it.” She’d lied.
He scowled. He didn’t believe her. “Nothing was inside?”
Grace met his scowl with a snarl and a shove. “Do you want the shell, Walter?! Fine! I will get it, but you leave after that! And if you ever come to my and Philip’s house again. I promise I’ll gut you, Walter. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.” He stared her down when she tossed the soggy shell and empty birth sack on top of the nest, then she dragged him towards the door by the sleeve.
Walter gave her another appraising scowl. Grace slammed the door, closing Walter out, and she had hoped it was for good. But she’d been wrong. She didn’t realize how wrong until three years had passed and he’d manage to track her and Mog, far east.
She cradled her stolen son, the strange looking child she’d claimed as her own, the heat of his body causing sweat to soak her clothing. Mog was always so hot. That was one thing that caused others to look at him with a cautionary gaze, that and the large teeth that busted his gums when he was only 4 months. There as also his large expressive eyes with the strange color of mud and iridescent charcoal. The sounds and hissing he made when riled didn’t help things much nor had his constant growth spurt.
At least no one had known about the Giant trademark of coarse hairs, sprouting like black wires from beneath his chin. Even as an infant, the hairs had grown. Grace kept the shorn and had the scars to prove it.
No one knew her or Mog, where she’d run with him, so no one knew that Mog was not born of her, they simple found him large and odd. They also tended towards cruelty which sent Mog into fits of rage. Grace was still trying to break him of it, telling him that he was a man of grace. He would not be a monster. She wouldn’t allow it.
But now as tears burned her eyes and the heaviness of his sleeping head weighed down her cramping arms she wished he would rage. She wished he would destroy Walter. She knew he could if she’d let him.
Walter was smug as he stared at them. “You know what gave you away?” He asked, laughter in his voice. “Two things. The first was that you brought me an empty eggshell. You never let me explain our plan,” Grace scowled at him as if to deny any union between them. Walter continued with a hard nod. “Yes, our plan, Grace. The runts,” He reached forward to touch Mog. Grace shoved his hand away.
Walter chuckled. “Down Mama.” He mocked. “The runts are rare, but they happen. The alphas always eat them though. That is how they remain strong. The runts are like concentrated giant power times 10 I hear. ”
Alarm flashed in Grace’s eyes at the thought of one of the Giants eating Mog. She wouldn’t allow it! She didn’t care about the strength. She pulled Mog’s cumbersome body closer to her. At three he was the size of a seven year old.
Walter continued. “I found that out after I left your place, did some observation of my own, and sure enough…” He stretched out his legs as far as he could in Grace’s trailer. “When I learned about the runts and then found out that you had fled town, that’s when I knew. You said you’d never leave Philip or MacRae, but then all of a sudden you did. Once I laid eyes on a runt myself, I got a clue, Gracie.” His eyes narrowed and he tapped his temple.
“The Alpha ate him too?” She asked. Where her mothering arms that lonely?
“No.” Walter said flatly. “I put my heel through its foul skull.” Walter laughed at her expression. “Don’t worry. That’s not our plan. We need him alive.” He pointed towards Mog.
Grace’s ire burned, but she pushed it down. Walter hadn’t found her by himself. There were seven of his followers outside. If she tried to kill him like she realized she’d have to do, it would mean death not only for herself but Mog.
Frustrated, she closed her eyes, a tear dripped from her face and onto Mog’s forehead. Grace kissed it away.
She pressed her lips together and let Walter speak, every now and again she nodded as if in obedience to him. “Do as I say, Gracie, or everyone will know what you’ve done.” He through her words back at her.
The reality was, she had to do what he was saying. She would return to her old home. She would continue to raise Mog, but not how Walter was instructing.
Yes, her son would learn how to war and they would wait for Walter to come, but it wouldn’t be for Walter to take Mog away to die trying to kill the Alpha. If Walter was fool enough to try and steal Mog from her or even set foot in her and Philip’s house again, Grace would make good on her promise, she would gut him.
THE END TO BE CONTINUED…
Rats! I went 15 words over! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it 😀 I also think I will have to extend this story in the future.