New Serial - First Encounter #2

The children's hideout was a tree house, half a kilometre from town. The woods on the south eastern mountain curled down onto the plains below – and clumps of tall conifers prevented the tree house from being seen by anyone on the pass above. When Talon and Daiv arrived late into the night the tree house was empty.

'We can hide here and let the Honch cool down,' Talon murmured as they climbed into the branches surrounding the crude structure.

Daiv gave him a look. 'We have to go and see if Ferran is okay,' he said. 'First thing tomorrow morning.'

The boys discussed their plan to return the next day, all the while fighting tiredness from the frantic rowing and their fight with the Honch. Eventually however, they both succumbed and slept dreamlessly.

***

Four hours after midnight, Talon's rest was disturbed by an insidious creeping noise. Somewhere below the tree, a dragging – or slithering – was coming closer. Trying to make as little sound as possible he woke Daiv, who grunted sleepily.

'Shh!' Talon hissed, putting his finger over his mouth. 'Outside.'

Staring bleary-eyed, Daiv followed his friend to the door of the tree house. Just visible in the starlight that shone on grass and leaf was a large shadow making its way under the branches.

'What do we do?' Daiv whispered.

Talon thought about this for a second. 'We can hide in the next tree along.'

'But, if the thing is tall enough –'

'We don't know if it's even after us,' Talon said. 'It could be some creature of the forest.'

As they climbed out the back of the house, a deep rumble came from below. Fearful but curious, both boys watched as the thing – shaggy and formless in the near absence of light – moved to cover the bottom of the tree house's trunk.

'Is it going to shake it?' Daiv said. Immediately he regretted this, as the thing made a sudden move at the sound of the boy's voice. Emanating from somewhere inside the mass was another rumbling drawl.

'Did that sound like a word to you?' Talon said.

Daiv trembled. 'No. Let's run.'

The thing repeated itself.

'I think I can make it out...'

The third time, Daiv gasped and fell from the tree. Talon was so concerned for his friend that he almost missed what the thing was saying.

'Are you there? Talon? Daiv?'

Talon jumped down from the tree. 'It knows our names!' he said, while helping Daiv to his feet. The boy froze when he looked over Talon's left shoulder.

'C..c..coming towards us!'

'Didn't you hear me?' said Talon. 'Our names!'

Together they faced the creature. Barely a metre from the tree they had hidden under, Talon realised why it had been hard to make out.

'It's covered by a mound of weeds and sand,' he said. Daiv failed to notice as he was currently working through several flavours of nervous breakdown.

The thing was more than two metres in height, though this could have been from the vast amount of junk that obscured its shape. Apart from the hint of a head and parrot-like jaw on the end of a long neck, which was also draped with stinking strands of weed, there were no definable features protruding from the mound.

'I need help,' it said, slowly and somewhat confused. 'The puppethead has returned to the village and this body will not survive forever above the water.' At this point, Talon realised that the long drawl and continuous rumble noise could have been a painstaking attempt at breathing.

'How do you know our names? How did you know where to find us? Who are you?'

The thing wavered its head back and forth. 'Too many questions. We don't have enough time. It's me, Ferran.'

'What?' Talon said.

Daiv broke his silence to sneer at the thing. 'Why would we believe you when you have no proof?' His motion became less stilted now it was clear the thing wouldn't eat him, yet.

The thing took an even deeper breath. 'The puppetheads, as my fellow captives called them, swap minds with the being that they touch. This thing that stands in front of you is currently sleeping in my bed, wearing my body.'

'That makes sense,' Talon said to Daiv. 'The Lake Sickness affected the montigers' minds –'

'There are others of these at the bottom of the lake whose owners were killed with the montigers. Dag, your pet, is down there.'

'How did you escape?' Talon continued to question the thing. 'Who else has been taken?'

Again, a breath that rattled the air around them. 'We don't have the time for this. There is a photograph of my late sister under the chest of drawers in my cabin. That should be enough proof that I am Ferran – I never told anyone else about her.'

'What can we do?'

'The puppetheads are planning a war, as far as we can gather. Their own bodies do not have efficient lungs and cannot live too long outside the water. I already feel like I'm about to pass out.'

'But why?' Talon said as the thing groaned. 'We'll get you into your body somehow, Ferran.'

'You need to get back to the village and warn the Big Honch,' the thing gasped. 'Don't worry about me.'

Daiv shook his head. 'No, you are following us back. We will find the puppethead.'

As Talon and Daiv raced off through the woods, they didn't hear Ferran call from behind them, 'there might be more than one!'