Engulf [New World Book 5] (2 page)

Abri heard the Captain’s words, they were dry and coarse. She turned her face towards the front and noted a dark object. Inky blackness lay before them. It was puzzling. Uninviting. Spooky. It seemed strangely out of place amidst the stars.

“It’s too soon,” the Captain muttered, leaning forward to peer curiously. He ran a hand across his face in a weary gesture. “It can’t be the right wormhole. Get us out of here.”

The co-pilot moved stiffly to oblige. The shuttle began to rattle—then shake. “It won’t back up,” the co-pilot ground out.

“Damn it, without the extra engine we’ll be sucked in. Shit, everyone hang on. We need to…”

Abri watched as the front of the shuttle slipped in before the rest of them. It vanished, so did the captain and co-pilot. What was happening? Darker and darker the vessel became, as it swallowed each individual in front of her. The woman sitting before her had her shriek abruptly cut off as she vanished. Abri struggled with her seat belt. She needed to escape before she too was nowhere to be found. But it was too late. She screamed as her feet disappeared and lost feeling. Blackness washed over her like the icy hand of death caressing her, claiming her. Abri’s hands curled to her chest as her calves, knees and thighs slipped from her view into the inky darkness.

It’s so cold in here. But where is here? Where did I go?

Abri felt as though she were falling. There was nothing anywhere. Everything, everyone was gone. Her breathing came out in deliberate puffs, in slow motion, ominous in the dead air. Her head turned with exaggerated sluggishness to her left then right. Her mouth was open in a soundless cry. It was suspended animation. Long endless moments passed, pounding along with the echo of her heart in her ears.

Then, with a bang, they exploded through the wormhole. Everything speeded up. The shuttle was flipping through the air, ass over tea kettle. The noise was now deafening as sound intensified.

“What the fuck is that?” screamed the co-pilot.

“We’ve been slammed into another atmosphere,” the Captain yelled. “It’s too fast.”

“None of the controls are responding. We’re losing our shield. Hang on, we’re gonna crash.”

Abri saw bright blue. She heard a horrific crack. They were breaking up, descending rapidly, spinning through the sky. They were going to die. At the last moment a parachute deployed, tugging them heavenward for a brief second before deflating—killing their reprieve. The vessel hit something, snapping Abri back then forth; she bounced, clacking her teeth together. They bounced again, then again, then began to skid. The force was eating up the ground beneath them. The ship was suddenly stopped dead in its tracks by a sickening smash. They had collided with a mountainous tree. The cabin was crushed on impact, killing the Captain and co-pilot.

The woman beside Abri and the woman in front of her were tossed to the far left side of the vessel, ripped from their seats, leaving Abri alone. Abri closed her eyes. She fainted as the sound of twisting metal reached back to implode closer and closer. An explosion sounded so near to her Abri’s ears popped. Everything went deadly silent.

Chapter 1

One year later:

“Abri?”

Abri pretended not to hear her name called. It wasn’t hard to do since she had lost most of her hearing in the shuttle crash a year previous. She remembered wishing she couldn’t hear in those first few days on the shuttle as the suffering became too much—irony should have been a bad four letter word. For days, Abri had heard nothing at all; it was terrifying. Something as simple as the sound of her own breathing she had taken for granted. Abri had felt locked within her mind. She stopped crying because she couldn’t hear her sobbing. But she had felt those first few tears as they had glided down her cheeks. Abri named them: regret, fear, aloneness. Heartache had a feel to it—it was wet, cold, and it slithered down her cheeks to drip from her chin as though escaping from her.

Finally, as the days passed, tiny sounds caught her attention every once in a while. At first they startled her—scaring her. Noise had become foreign and then to be re-introduced to it was a cross between relief and terror. She found herself creeping closer to any sounds she heard. In the area of personal space, noise was excluded. For the most part she remained bathed in silence to the new world around her. Abri felt new—her body was a new world as well.

For a long time, Abri had felt lost until her other senses heightened and she became more self-aware. When all you hear are your own thoughts you tend to listen to yourself. You feel your surroundings and become one with them. The sound of your footsteps no longer guides you. When there is no crunch or snapping underfoot, you hear with your senses.

Abri had once seen a blind person feeling around, searching with his fingers. The blind person couldn’t see his surroundings, but he knew they were there.

Just because sound didn’t exist for Abri, it didn’t mean it wasn’t there. To Abri, sound was everything and yet nothing. She just needed to feel for it instead of listen for it.

The shimmer of Sam’s reflection in the clear water was a dead giveaway, regardless, their eyes met for a second and Sam gave her a wry look. The woman knew Abri had heard her all along.
Busted.

Waves lapped at Abri’s bare feet, riding up her ankles in a tickling fashion. The gentle tug as they receded was like a teasing game of tag. Catch-me if-you-can. Abri had settled herself back against a soft rock a short time earlier, seeking solitude near a beautiful, clear blue lake. Sam, also barefoot, came to stand before her, ankle-deep in the water.

As Sam’s feet connected with the soft lake bed, Abri watched the water ripple. Pools of wet dust rolled over Sam’s feet like an exploding sand storm. Though there was no sound—there was. Each movement seemed exaggerated. In Abri’s mind, the motion could resonate into anything she wanted it to. When Sam stood still the dust settled, sinking back from whence it came, the moment was broken.

Abri looked up at the tall woman while shading her eyes against the glare of one of the planet’s suns. Sam, who was twenty-seven, was pretty in a rugged way. She had been a body builder on Earth—a good one. Sam’s muscles were well-defined. Her strength had come in handy. Much to Abri and the others’ amusement the powerful woman was as delicate as a wallflower at times. She had a sweet disposition and was a caring soul.

“Abri?” Sam said, enunciating the word in such a way Abri could read her lips.

Abri tossed up her hands in a questioning gesture. She hated speaking—she could barely hear the sound of her voice and it was so odd wondering if she was yelling or softly talking.

“Dinner.”

Abri sighed with her shoulders. They rose and fell dramatically. Sam cocked her head cheekily making Abri smile. Then Abri was hauled to her feet, almost flying into Sam’s hard chest. The pair were a contrast. Abri was four years younger than Sam. Sam was six feet at least, broad, muscular. Sam’s raven black hair had grown in longer over the year they had become stranded on the strange planet and almost touched her shoulders. Abri was a strawberry blond. Her long hair flowed in thick waves down her back. She was at least seven inches shorter than Sam, with a thin build. Sam was blue-eyed. Abri had been told on more than one occasion by men that her eyes sparkled like emeralds. Both women were also tanned and healthy.

Sam set Abri away from her and smiled, she mimicked eating fish. At least that was the closest description of what they ate that came to mind. The creatures in the water were a flashing silver color. Where you found one you found dozens. They would leap into the air simultaneously, creating a streak so shiny it was blinding when reflected off the planet’s two suns. It was a good thing the fish creatures were as dumb as they were curious. The odd creatures didn’t hide from the humans, they appeared to enjoy watching them—even though it meant a few perished each time. The six women on the planet only needed to reach out and whack a stick into the air, felling many of the foot long, beady eyed creatures.

Abri and Sam walked silently back to camp. They were greeted by the four others who were sitting on various soft rocks. When Abri settled herself onto a rock, her ass sank in a comfortable way; it felt like sitting on firm foam. The idea of a soft rock was still baffling to Abri. Everything on the planet was virtually soft. The trees were soft on the outside, covered in a creamy, coffee-colored, velvet-smooth bark. They stretched higher to the heavens than any tree Abri had ever seen in her life and sported massive leaves as tall as her. If not for the harder under bark, their branches would have been useless in aiding the women in capturing the fish-creatures.

No fire burned, the fish was eaten raw. Everything they ate was raw. For a while, they had tried to start a fire and, though they had wood, nothing was flammable. It rained often; torrential downpours sent them frequently scurrying for safety. Shelter could be found under thick bushes. The stones they found were too soft to strike and make a spark. Sticks—which were few and far between as the massive trees seemed loathe to give them up, couldn’t be twirled into smoky tinder. Nothing on the shuttle that had crash landed was helpful. Nothing of any kind had been packed that could start a fire. They had been warned it was too dangerous to the planet they had been heading to.

Abri could see the sense surrounding the warning. The planet they had landed on must be like the one they had been heading to, before they were thrown off course. There were no rocks to contain a fire—in fact, they would burn too. Everything surrounding them was lush and green. Oddly enough the word ‘tidy’ came to mind. An organized planet. As if forest nymphs or fairies cleaned any debris. The ground beneath their feet was foam-like and spongy. Shoes were a waste of time; there was nothing to injure their feet. The air was very warm. Not stifling and unbearably hot, just warm enough to cut pants at the knees or higher and rip shirt sleeves away. It remained the same temperature throughout the year. A lonely, tropical paradise.

Sam handed Abri a plate made from one of the shuttle panels that had blown free. It was charred, small and square but big enough to hold a fair sized raw fish and many fruit-like things that were edible. Abri was used to the fish, but the fare was boring. On Earth she had been so hungry once the multitude of storms had started to terrorize every corner of the world. Tsunamis had plagued the Pacific coastline before she left; earthquakes struck with unpredictability—she had seen that firsthand on the fateful day she lost her parents.

Volcanoes erupted; freezing cold had set in in some States, blistering heat in others. Areas dried from droughts, others were flooded. Rodents, vermin of all kinds multiplied as did bugs. The Earth was ravished, raped of its beauty and entirety. Abri wondered if anything was spared. Was there a home to go to if they ever got off this forlorn planet?

The food on Earth had been scarce and covered in soot or ash or dirt, all the while still costing a small fortune with prices spiking higher each day. While the Earth crumbled around Abri, she had grown thin, pale and weak until it came her turn for a shuttle ride to the planet Ulsy. Abri had never known she would ever again complain about eating decent food, but she grumbled now. What she wouldn’t give for a thick, medium-rare steak and potatoes—or French fries covered in gravy.

Abri was swirling her finger around her plate, playing absently with her food. Her hand was stilled by Sam. When Abri looked up she saw her friend’s gentle smile and realized she had been brooding again. Lately it seemed that was all Abri did. They had been trapped on this forlorn planet for a year now. Six women, no men or children. The cockpit of the craft had been crushed; there was no way to call for help. Abri had wondered if there was anyone to call regardless. There was no way to know how far off course they had been thrown.

Odd creatures roamed the planet. Nothing they had encountered appeared dangerous—yet. Foot-high butterflies in pastel colors were the prettiest things Abri had ever seen. They were curious bugs, and if you stood still they would land on you to rub their antennas across your forehead. There were freakish foot-high beings that followed the moon at night. They were creepy at first, but appeared harmless, if not curious. Their long talon fingers were like razors and their feet were claws. Their slim bodies were silvery and sleek. Human and being knew of the other’s existence, but both kept a respectful distance. Once the women were finished with their dinner, the remains would be put in a pile on the outskirts of the camp, and Abri knew the little creatures would devour the fare. Abri was happy at least something was grateful for their hard work.

“Eat,” Sam mouthed.

Frowning, Abri took a bite of the fish—same as ever, boring and uncooked, blah. It was like eating rubbery calamari. She felt it squeak between her teeth. She chewed with exaggeration and made a face at Sam. Sam just laughed. Before the shuttle ride and crash, Abri hadn’t met Sam. Nor had they bothered with each other on the shuttle. They had become fast friends after the crash when Abri had saved Sam’s life. Debris had fallen on Sam’s leg but she was also covered by larger debris. Abri was the only woman small enough to fit under the pile of twisted metal to reach Sam’s trapped leg and work it free with the aid of a fulcrum and lever.

It was apparent to Abri immediately why the other women were afraid to venture in and save Sam. Rubble teetered precariously; items were still falling. Abri couldn’t hear the squeal of twisted metal as it teetered. She couldn’t hear the shouts of the terrified women. Invincibility wasn’t the case—Abri just couldn’t take notice of the danger she placed herself in. It was not unlike the removal of spooky music played during a horror film. Circus music could have played—it didn’t matter to Abri when she had no perception of the sounds around her.

Sam had hobbled around for a month with Abri waiting on her; thankfully, her leg hadn’t been broken and healed well. Once Sam recovered, she had become overprotective of Abri. They incorporated their own hand signals to converse with one another. Sam insisted Abri reminded her of her baby sister. A sister who had died shortly before the world had come to its radical demise. Abri had never had a closer friend.