Merrick's Book

(from the rough draft notes)

The pig was hell to haul back after the hunt. He’d never expected to find one, not after seeing all the signs of wild dogs. Other than being insane and dangerous, the presence of a pack bothered Mer. He’d seen patterns with the dog's behavior. Their presence meant more than a lack of meat for dinner.
This camp wasn’t the best place. They’d picked a shelter in the middle of a storm and had to stay because Treasure was too sick to move. This boar would go a long way to stabilizing the food situation and getting them out of this forsaken area.
It had been his idea to leave the tree line and come onto the plains in search of civilized people they could trade with. The storm that soaked them all to the bone was just more fucking bad luck of the Un, coming at them when they were the least prepared for it. A week ago, before the mud slide, they had what they needed to do okay in anything the elements threw at them. But out here in the wilds, a week felt like a year of living. The loss of that gear was a lifetime ago.
At twice his size—he couldn’t pass up the fresh meat. Cutting it up to transport, some of it got wasted. And having gone without food for days before, he hated that necessity on principal. But carrying back what he could was a lick of good that they all needed. He could smell it roasting in his head, making his mouth water and stomach rumble.
Coming back after dark, later than expected, Mer kept his eyes open for Bezeck. The nights here were full of weird noises, making them all touchy. Guarding his mate and child, Bezeck would shoot first and ask questions later.
His mare clip-clopped over the terrain, picking up speed as she recognized the area. The smart old thing wanted to be done with the day as much as he did. Fighting him that first mile after getting the meat on her back wore down her will for anything but finishing this day's beast of burden business. The mare knew her job well enough to understand there was food waiting for her.
This place had been a village or something like, once. They found a place inside some walls with and a pit opening leading to a former concrete basement. Two exits and roof gave the illusion of safety they didn’t have to build themselves.
The mare stopped moving and snorted.
Had she heard something?
The wind whistled between the barriers of old walls and creaking wood. Nothing but wind.
“Come on, you.” He nudged the mare's sides with his boots. She went backwards instead of forwards.
He didn’t know if it was her nature or if someone else out here in the Un-lands raised and trained the mare, but she’d not bucked too much or resisted too hard when he and Bezeck captured her months back. She fit right in with the other two animals they already had. The rusty, spotted horse acted like an old lady who’d seen everything in life. The storm full of lightning, booming thunder and icy rain had not spooked her a bit.
The only thing she ever balked at was blood scent.
The way the wind was blowing, the smell of cut-up boar on her backside shouldn’t bother her anymore. She’d already carried it for a couple of hours, anyway.
Mer dismounted, tied her to the nearest place he could find, and went forward on foot. The animal’s senses were better than his, but he was breed—he had some freaky beasts tied up in his cells that gave him beyond regular human abilities. He’d broken his nose several times in the pits of Sector 2. Although he healed crooked, messing up his profile, his nose was still in the general vacuity of the middle of his face. It worked fine.
Blood. He smelled it too. Found the first body within a direct site line of camp. He just bet that the next two lumps closer to camp were more bodies.
Bezack had gotten good with his sling. Arrows took too long to make, but rocks were everywhere. A rock in the brain slowed another breed alpha down as fast as anything.
The night. The wind. Bodies and silence.
Mer never had anything to lose before. Until now.
Had he gone out to find help with food for his family and come back to nothing?