Free Chronicles of Kin Roland 1: Enemy of Man by Scott E Moon Page B

movement, but only watched the bird as it flew out of the ravine.
    Kin, I hope you’re well, but if you’ re injured grievously, the Fleet doctors have amazing skill.
    The message meant Orlan wasn’t dead, but Kin already understood this from Raien’s briefing. For a moment, he wondered why Laura would connect him with Orlan, but immediately realized it was a stupid question. Who else in Crater Town could kill a Fleet trooper?
    What are you doing, Laura? Kin thought.
    He sa w the Reaper climb to the ship. The stupid creature pulled and tugged, grunting and cursing as though he could make it fly again. When the ship plunged into the stream, the Reaper jumped out of the way and stared as though the ship had betrayed some agreement between vessel and master. The ship settled, refusing to move. The Reaper stalked out of sight.
    Kin followed at a distance, evaluating each footprint and twisted branch, never moving within two hundred meters of the Reaper. He found a single drop of blood on a leaf and touched it hesitantly. The thick liquid trembled on his hand before absorbing into his skin. Kin held his hand away in disgust.
    Droon.
    The Reaper’s name was Droon . Kin shouldn’t have touched the blood. Knowing the name was dangerous. The first thing they did when invading nightmares was impress their name into their victim’s mind. This made it easier to come night after night and harvest fear from the depths of unconsciousness. Kin cursed himself for touching the blood. He didn’t want to know the Reaper’s name.
    The day grew long. Kin suspected Raien would be looking fo r him by now, assuming the company hadn’t moved on to Maiden’s Keep. He continued to track the Reaper toward Crater Town. There was a small chance he could be lost, but Kin wasn’t going to wait and see.
    Each time Droon changed course, Kin calculated where the terrain would lead him. There were impassable ravines, dangerous rock slides, and powerful rivers that couldn’t be crossed. Even a monster like Droon must yield to the force of nature. He hoped the Reaper was traveling toward Crater Town by coincidence, rather than some instinct.
    The course became complicated as Droon navigated around natural obstacles. Kin began to think he might get a break. If Droon continued moving in his current direction, he’d pass through the Valley of Clingers. Of all the predators on Crashdown, the Clingers, huge parasites that latched onto victims, were the absolute worst. Once a Clinger had you, it couldn’t be removed. They adhered to every naked patch of skin and sucked your life out in minutes.
    Droon quickened his pace. Kin followed, moving like a hunter. The microorganisms of Hellsbreach were either still with him or had altered his DNA. The effects blessed him and cursed him simultaneously.
    There were times he felt he had a third eye. His danger sense became more acute, fear more manageable. His heartbeat acquired an almost melodic rhythm and he heard Reaper voices in his head. Sometimes the words were clear and terrifying. Other times they were the murmur of a crowd, like the voices he heard around him when he had been captive in a dark warren. He drove them back, refusing to consider what hearing them might mean. When he first realized he was infected, back on Hellsbreach, he worried the Reapers could track him because of the contagion, but the opposite was true. His presence seemed to confuse them, as though they didn’t know what he was.
    The sight of Droon entering the Valley of Clingers was the best thing that had happened to Kin for a long time. He took a position watching the entrance and waited for the tortured wail of the Reaper. There were other ways to leave the valley, but Kin wasn’t worried. Soon the scavengers that followed a Clinger attack would descend from the trees and scurry across the ground on their chitinous legs. He waited an hour. Nothing could survive an hour in the valley, not even a Reaper, yet the scavengers didn’t