The Tainted (The Tainted Series Book 1)

“Please. Please don’t hurt him.” A young boy, no more than 12 years old, sat kneeling in the dirt. He struggled desperately against the firm grip of the two tall men standing behind him, but he was no match for their strength. Towering above him in silence, the men, with their matching green, slim-cut, military-style uniforms and stern, emotionless faces, were as unwavering as statues. They clenched even more severely onto the boy’s arms, cruelly forcing him to remain on his knees.

The boy’s bright green eyes brimmed with tears as he focused his gaze on the other captive. It was a middle-aged man, his dark hair speckled with grey, his body lean, yet muscular for his age, and his brilliant green eyes identical to the boys. He too was held down on his knees with his arms wrenched behind his back by two unyielding soldiers. Three more stood guard to the side of the group in the small clearing amongst the immense pine trees.

Unlike the child, the older man did not resist his captors. Instead he stared longingly at the boy, oblivious to all else around him.

“Please. He’s done nothing wrong!” The boy wrenched even harder, nearly making it to his feet before he was viciously knocked back down.

“He knew the rules, and the consequences his actions would incur.” A tall, lean man walked forward. He wore the same uniform as the rest, but his air of authority left no doubt that he was in command. His thin face was severe, and a hint of anger laced the edge of his voice. “He made his choice.”

“Please…” The boy’s voice had dropped to a whisper as he looked up imploringly. “Please…”

The leader stared back at the boy, never breaking his gaze. “End him.” As his command rung out through the forest, the leader spun around to walk away from the scene, and the three soldiers behind the captive man stepped forward.

Suddenly everything slowed to a near stop. The soldiers who had begun to move forward appeared stuck in mid step. Even the dust in the air seemed to suspend in place. The only thing not affected was the small boy. Throwing his arms forward, he twisted his hands free from the immobile soldier’s clasp and stood up, quickly making his way over to the captive man.

“Father!” Desperately the boy struggled to pull the man’s arms free from the frozen hands of his captors. “I can’t lose you. Not now.” The boy’s tears blurred his vision as he strained to free the man.

The scene was rapidly beginning to come back to normal speed. The boy knew he couldn’t hold time much longer. He wasn’t strong enough yet. In mere moments the soldiers would be upon them. He pulled back to look his father in the face, and when their eyes met, they were a mirror of deep longing and love. So much had been stolen from them already, and now it seemed clear they would lose so much more.

The man stared at his son, the pain of the imminent loss etched across his face. As the passage of time continued to accelerate back to normal, he mouthed slowly, “Run.”

The boy shook his head and started to come forward towards his father again. “I can’t.”

“Run now!” The man yelled, as everything around him suddenly blurred back into motion. He jumped to his feet immediately and began attacking the guards with a wild ferocity, fueled by love for his son.

Surprised and frightened, the boy spun instantly. Using all the strength he could find, he sped off into the night through the dark woods as the heavy sounds of fighting men erupted behind him.

Rebecca sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide with fear. Beads of sweat poured down her face as she clenched the sheets with a white-knuckled grip. In an effort to calm her racing heart and panting breaths, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and hung her head between her knees. The dream had been so vivid, seemed so real. She’d actually felt the longing and love shared between the prisoners, their intense pain and anguish. It was as if she’d been there, a ghost amongst them, watching it all unfold and yet powerless to help.

Pushing the disturbing imagery from her mind, Rebecca reached under the bed for her trainers and quickly yanked them on. She ignored her coat, however, for though it was still awhile before sunrise, it had been uncharacteristically hot for a September in the mountains.

Cautiously, she crept out of her room, down the main hall of the small house, and out the front door. Once outside, Rebecca took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the sweet scent of early autumn that wafted from the surrounding forest. The broad-leafed trees had already begun to turn a light yellow, dotting the rolling landscape with bright splashes of colour amidst the monotonous green of the giant pines. Yet now, in the still dark hours of early morning, the world seemed awash in shades of black and grey.

Rebecca turned to her right and sprinted into the dense forest. She raced through the trees as quickly as she could. Her fast pace was not driven by fear, but instead by how much she relished the thrill of the speed. The wind whipped across her face, pulling her long, dark brown hair back. As the branches grazed across her arms and legs, her amber eyes focused ahead, alert for anything that might block her path. This was merely a precaution, however, for she knew these woods so well she could easily have weaved through the trees blindfolded.

She ran far, taking herself deep within the surrounding wood, never slowing her pace for a moment. With a final push up the small hill, she burst through the thick tree line at the top.

Rebecca allowed her body to collapse onto the ground, lying flat in the long, wild grass that covered the small clearing. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as she sucked air into her burning lungs. A soft breeze caressed the branches of the nearby trees and playfully rustled the loose strands of hair around her face. Other than the sounds of her calming breaths and the light trickle of the neighboring stream, the forest was completely still, not even the birds had begun to wake.

From her perch on the hilltop, Rebecca could see the clouds near the horizon begin to glow a soft pink and orange as the sun slowly slid into view. By now she had spent nearly an hour out in the darkness of the woods, but this was far from uncommon.

Sleep had never come easy for Rebecca. Usually it didn’t bother her, as she was never overly tired or lethargic without a good nights rest. She just couldn’t sleep without dreaming; vivid dreams and haunting nightmares that left her struggling to distinguish between reality and the imagined.

Four years prior, Rebecca had been moved to this small town to live with her new foster family. On restless nights she’d taken to sneaking out into the immense old forest that surrounded and enveloped the area. There, within the trees, she finally felt calm, free, and, most importantly, normal.

Rebecca had never known a stable, ordinary life. She’d been orphaned at birth, with absolutely no explanation of who or where her parents were. For the first thirteen years of her existence, she was shuffled from one foster home to the next, never spending more than 10 months in one place.

She’d be lying if she didn’t admit this had been at least partially her fault. Rebecca was never one to hold her tongue, and had more than a slight problem with adhering to rules. Moreover, as the years went by, and it became clear that her chances of being adopted were slim, that there was no one in her life who truly loved her, Rebecca lost all care for authority.

When she was only 13, she’d been caught shoplifting from a local electronics store. Her “family” had told the agency they were no longer willing to put up with her, and she was moved yet again. This time, however, tired of her attitude and bad behavior, they’d placed her with an elderly couple who lived in a very small town in the middle of nowhere: Cle Elum, Washington. Here, they had hoped she would be unable to wreck any more havoc.

Outraged by her situation, Rebecca had rebelled stronger than ever, running away from the house, stealing from the local businesses. Once, she even attempted to take her foster parent’s car on a joyride. Unlike her other families, however, the elderly couple didn’t abandon her. Although they punished Rebecca for her misbehavior, they were never cruel, nor did they call social services for her removal.

Finally, after 6 months, it became apparent that the couple wasn’t going to get rid of Rebecca. It even seemed, to her great surprise, that they genuinely cared for her. Ingrid, the elderly woman, forced Rebecca to garden with her around the house. At first, it had served as a form of punishment, but once Rebecca realized she had a natural botanical gift, she found pure pleasure in the activity. Ingrid’s husband Thomas, an avid hunter, brought Rebecca into the woods to teach her about tracking and forestry. Before this, Rebecca’s only experience with nature had been at local city parks. So she was incredibly surprised to find that being out in the wilderness, hiking along slender game trails, far from any civilization, she finally felt at home.

As the years passed, Rebecca finally began to feel somewhat settled. Her grades in school soared, though that was really the only direction they could go from the straight F’s she’d been receiving prior. She made apologies to the local businesses she’d once terrorized, and even worked a summer job at the local grocery store.

Rebecca had hoped, at first, that once her life began to settle down, her dreams would too, but they didn’t. If anything they became even more frequent and lucid. It was only here, in the forest, on nights like this, that she could forget her dreams and feel at peace.

Rebecca closed her eyes as she gently tucked her hands behind her head. She loved the silence of the forest in the early morning. It made it feel as if all her senses were heightened, in tune with the world around her.

Just then, the tiny hairs on the back of Rebecca’s neck stood on end. It wasn’t a noise that made her react; it was a feeling, a sense that someone was out there, amongst the trees, silently watching her. She didn’t move. She didn’t even tense. This was, in fact, what she’d been waiting for.

Several years ago, in this very spot, she’d felt the eyes for the first time. Immediately, Rebecca went into a panic, frightened by the mysterious presence. She frantically searched the trees around her, ready to flee at even the slightest hint of danger, but she found nothing. She was alone.

Rebecca refused to return to the clearing for months. After some time, however, her curiosity got the better of her and, one night, she found herself walking back to the small clearing. As she lie there, the feeling returned. As soon as Rebecca felt it she began to search again, all through the trees at the edge of the small area, but still she found nothing. It continued on like this for weeks. Each night, she would wait in the clearing until she felt the eyes on her, then search in vain for their source.

After awhile Rebecca realized that whoever (or whatever) was watching her posed no threat, so she gave up looking. Strangely, the feeling of being watched even began to comfort her. So much so, in fact, that when her nightmares grew too much for Rebecca to handle, she would intentionally seek out the clearing, finding solace in the mysterious presence.

Tonight, Rebecca lie still in the grass, keeping her eyes closed. This dream had been particularly realistic and disturbing, far worse than she’d experience before, and having the presence there now was finally allowing her to relax.

It wasn’t until hours later, when the sun had fully lifted over the far horizon, that she slowly began to pull herself up to a standing position. By now Ingrid and Thomas were sure to be awake and have noticed her absence, and today of all days was not the day to make them worry.

Rebecca took a moment to look back into the woods behind her, where she believed the watching eyes to have come from. She smiled and nodded, sure that whoever was there saw her do so. Then, in a swift movement, she pivoted and sped into the woods and back to her house.

“You’re going to be late.” Ingrid didn’t even look up from her position over the stove in the kitchen as Rebecca flew through the front door.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She rushed into her room and threw off her pajamas, replacing them with ripped jean shorts, a strategically torn t-shirt, and an old, oversized, unbuttoned flannel shirt she’d borrowed from Thomas.

When Rebecca returned to the kitchen, Ingrid was placing a fried egg on an empty plate for her at the table. Thomas sat in his seat, with the paper in front of his face. He tipped down an edge and raised an eyebrow at Rebecca as she sat down across from him.