Lorela: Dog Warriors

D. Longdon Daniel

Description

Lorela is a red planet...a dead planet! For several hundred years, the human colony of Lorela was thought to have been wiped out but they survived deep underground, out of sight of those who would use them. The lucky ones made it to the mines, locked in away from the harmful radiation. The unfortunate ones wept, surviving as best they could. Over time, the humans that were left breathing in polluted fetid air began to mutate. As the generations passed, all they knew were howls in the dark and the taste of flesh, bitten from that of those who howled with them.Memphis Grimm was the first to step out to view a tortured landscape; his pack hounded by those who would consume them. Pack Grimm raced across the barren landscape, in search of sanctuary, freedom from the pack lands and a place they could call their own. None could have known how far this journey would take them, not even those who watched from a distance--far across the galaxy, amused at what crawled out from the darkness.

Sujets

• Science fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 31 juillet 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528994774
• Langue: English

Extrait

Lorela: Dog Warriors
Fourth Book of Devastation
Daniel D. Longdon
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-07-31
Lorela: Dog Warriors About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgements Mutation Chapter 1 It’s a Dog’s Life Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Dog Eat Dog Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Every Dog has its Day Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Who Let the Dogs out? Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Alpha Male Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34
About the Author
Daniel D. Longdon lives in Middle England on the border between Notts and Derbyshire. His first love are his three sons, his grandchild and wife, Emma. His writings come a close second being a labour of love and considered by himself to be his purpose in life.
Dedication
I’m dedicating this book to all the people that have helped me in my journey through life, a big shout out and much love to you all—you know who you are.
Copyright Information ©
Daniel D. Longdon (2020)
The right of Daniel D. Longdon to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528994767 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528994774 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank all my friends and family that have supported me throughout the years of my lifelong endeavour, thus far, all your positivity enables me to cast aside the negatives. I would also like to thank Austin Macauley, all your staff have been most helpful, humble and at times have made me feel part of your family.
Mutation
A super massive star near the end of its life, its nuclear furnace all but spent. At the pinnacle of its technological expertise, mankind—in its infinite wisdom—devised a plan: a giant experimental remedy to save the star. The implications of this particular star’s redemption were literally astronomical. If mankind succeeded in saving the star and every other near-death nova, the star map of the Milky Way that they occupied would never alter. The populated areas of man would not have to periodically move to avoid death, and therefore, they would live slightly more comfortably with the knowledge that their immortality wasn’t threatened by the occasional exploding star.
The star in question, Antares, didn’t act as predicted upon completion of the industrial solar procedure. It bulged outwardly and became irregular in shape, growing until it could no longer maintain its mass.
It blew up, and with its borrowed elements, it became much more than it would ever have if man had left it to its natural demise. It became a beast, the nemesis of mankind; in those first few seconds, the conditions of the beginning of time were recreated in miniature. Over fifty star systems were engulfed in just a fleeting moment of time, considering the vast astronomical distances involved, somehow defying the law of physics, as if the very powers of nature where being governed by supernatural influences.
The physicists used various theories to explain away this extraordinary event, unprecedented in mankind’s timeframe. They blamed themselves, the best of mankind’s scientists. Little did they know that outside influences, godlike or supernatural, had played a part in man’s downfall.
As the galaxy held its breath, the blast slowed, bulged and burgeoned; a great cloud of ejector preceded the wave of pure kinetic energy that ripped everything apart in its path. Those that could flee did so; they blinked out of real space and entered white space, the dimension of hyperspace easily obtainable if you owned hyperdrive-equipped vessels and a psyche pilot to operate them.
Others tried to flee ahead of the galactic destruction; all failed as the devastation overtook them and added them to its mass of ejector.
As the wave of death slowed and the information managed to run ahead of the devastation, panic set in on many worlds. This was predominant among those with little or no hope to speak of. Some lost all inhibitions and ran amok, fearing the afterlife they’d so readily been quick to avoid. Others ran for cover, anything or anywhere they could find. Some worlds were small city states, set up to house the workers of the vast mines of corporate concerns; the giant settlements sat right above the lift shafts that would delve deep into the planet’s interior. One such world, Lorela, sat in the firing line, as did every other world in every other system that man had colonised.
As the blast wave entered the system, it brushed away its gas giant. Its massive gravity was no match for the power of the wave, its moon-sized core forced to surf its unending fiery crest. Other planetary bodies were moved, or reacted in some way, and the whole thing was reminiscent of the big bang.
The population of Lorela fled to the planet’s substantial mine complex. The wave dimmed even the planet’s star; the sky was dominated by the red glow of death on its approach. The people fled, wearing just the clothes on their backs. The crush of bodies at every tunnel entrance broke more than just ribs, as the frenzy for life reached fever pitch. The crowd turned at the last, its struggle spent. They watched in awe, as though hypnotised, as the moons in the sky changed before their eyes, set ablaze by the onset of this extreme biblical event.
Then it was over, the atmosphere fried as everything crisped. People were blown like leaves in the wind; they blazed, but their screams went unheard in the torrent of sound. Most of the structures were taken, nothing remained on the higher ground and only the barest of solid buildings remained in the low-lying valleys. The raging inferno seemed to have a life of its own as it ventured beneath the ground. Like giant snaking tentacles, it fingered and felt its way, rending flesh and torturing the soon-to-be dead.
Tens of thousands of people made it into the mine proper, the giant chemical foundries used to produce the Forever pill now the salvation of many. The doors to the planet’s inner sanctum were closed and sealed shut. Giant metal doors that were used to prevent pollutants escaping to the surface were instead used to prevent radiation getting into the planet’s mines; an irony that was lost to those stranded in the mine but outside of the relative safety of the inner mines.
There were thousands of them—men, women and children of all ages. Whole families were trapped and left with nothing. Left to fend for themselves, they were fully aware of the threat of not only a slow death by starvation, but the very real possibility of radiation sickness and an agonising death.
Decades passed and the people were driven to cannibalism; their primary food source that of their own kind, occasionally subsidised by lichens and cave moss.
A young woman lay back, rested up against the old man who’d kindly taken her under his wing. She panted and gasped for breath as she struggled with her uncompromised position. Her legs were spread wide, her backside propped up by clothing that’d been stitched into some sort of a pillow.
“C’mon lass, push, will ya!” the old woman nagged.
With a scream and an almighty heave, the young woman threw her head back.
“The head, I can see the head, its crowning,” the toothless old crone shouted.
“Melissa, Melissa,” the old man shouted. He pushed the young woman’s head from one side to the next then back again—it hung limp.
“She’s gone,” another said from behind him.
The old matron said nothing. She frowned in the half light and felt at the slick head of the half-born babe. She pulled at it and produced a knife.
Slice by slice, she deftly cut away at the dead woman’s flesh around the babe’s head. With no regard to the woman’s partner, she lifted the dead woman’s legs and forced them down until they cracked, the hips snapping as the old hag put all her weight behind her effort. As she lent all her strength to the forward-downward motion, the babe’s head popped out. The reason for the young woman’s struggle and failed attempt at birth soon became apparent; the babe was misshapen and all out of proportion.
“Mutation,” the father spoke of his child.
He stood and walked away into the shadows of the nearest tunnel, leaving both his mutant child and the corpse of his woman for the old hag to deal with. The woman narrowed her eyes and silently cursed the man. How could he orphan his own child? It wasn’t the babe’s fault it’d been born into these terrible times.
Typical man, she thought, I curse thee.
“I’ll look after you,” she said to the child.
She mopped the gunge of birth from the baby’s eyes, which were the only features on it that looked human. The creature was covered in thick fur and resembled more a puppy than anything else.
As the old woman had this thought, the creature opened its mouth to reveal a full set of teeth; they looked more canine than human.
“That’s evolution for you,” the old woman spoke gently to the child