Family Secrets Read online

  FAMILY SECRETS

  NOCTURNIA: Book Two

  by

  F. Paul Wilson & Tom Monteleone

  NOCTURNIA

  Family Secrets is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America and of all countries covered by the International Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British Commonwealth), the Berne Convention, the Pan-American Copyright Convention and the Universal Copyright Convention as well as all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights, including professional /amateur stage rights, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound recording, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as CD-ROM, CD-I, DVD, information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and events are either a product of the authors’ imaginations, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Thomas F. Monteleone & F. Paul Wilson

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN978-1880325087

  Cover art by: Gioconda Padovan

  Final Proofing: Dannielle Romeo

  A Borderlands Press Book & Gauntlet Press Book

  This one is also for

  Ethan

  Daniel

  Hannah

  Leonardo

  Paolo

  Quinn

  Tess

  CONTENTS

  Part 1: Run and Hide

  Part 2: Sheeple and Madmen

  Part 3: Trolls and Lycans

  Part 4: Here and Gone

  Part 5: Lost and Lycan

  Also by Thomas F. Monteleone

  Also by F. Paul Wilson

  Part 1

  Run and Hide

  1

  The city was being consumed.

  Anything that moved. Eaten. Devoured. Completely.

  And I’m next!

  That had been the last thing to spike through Ryan’s thoughts – just before he screamed. Just before a living wave of scrabbling chitinous things seeped through the smallest seams and openings of the parked car’s windows and floorboards, and began to cover him in a blanket of tiny frantically chewing teeth.

  He felt the first sting of their onslaught, and then – nothing.

  And then the soft luminescence of the Ethereals danced around him, around all of them, conjoining to form a filmy hemisphere like a dome that contained Ryan, Cal, and old Ambrose. A yellow fog seemed to be clinging to them.

  “Don’t move!” said Ryan. “It’s okay…I think!”

  “What’s happening to us?” Cal had crouched low over Ambrose and was now tentatively sitting up but careful not to get close to the glowing barrier, beyond which the micro-crablike things flowed like a legion of locusts on a windowpane.

  “Ethereals.” Ambrose spoke in a hoarse whisper. “They work for the Silent Ones.”

  “What are they doing?!”

  “That glow…” Ryan cleared his throat. “I’m not sure, I think they’re… trying to… to protect us.”

  “Why would they do that?” said Cal.

  Ryan had an idea, but now was not the time to start the discussion. Before he could say anything, a rising cacophony washed over them. That distant chittering sound had coalesced into the mindless-thrum of an insect swarm. But Ryan knew whatever was making that sound were far more deadly than any insect. Tiny crustacean-like things moving so fast, only strobic glimpses revealed their mindless jittering presence. They were carried in the black roiling cloud that slowly consumed the sea-level regions of the city…

  And now, as they sat trapped in the confines of the abandoned auto, the things were all around them.

  But they were not touching them, not hurting them.

  The glowing, pale yellow mist had become a shield against their assault, and after several panicked minutes the attackers appeared to be giving up. The glowing field enveloping Ryan and his friends expanded, insistent, pushing the miniature horde farther away until the things broke off their encroachment, receding down into the cracks and breaches of the car, leaking like liquid out onto the street.

  Ryan watched the things pool and gather and begin to flow back down toward the harbor and the bay from which they’d come.

  Cal looked from Ambrose to Ryan. “Okay… how did that happen?”

  “Ethereals,” said the old man. “No doubt about that.”

  Through the rear window, Ryan continued to watch the devouring horde retreat toward the lowering black mist.

  “They had some power to keep those things at bay.”

  “Obviously,” said Cal. “And I’m glad of it. But I think the really important question is why? Why’d they do it? If they work for the Silent Ones like Ambrose says… then they’re part of the attacks. In fact it’s pretty clear they are the attacks.”

  Ambrose shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would they save us?”

  Ryan turned back to face them. “Nobody knows all that much about them, right? I mean, there’s no way to figure what they are or how they think or why they do anything they do.”

  Cal chuckled. “No kidding. You’re right – it’s not like anybody’s ever talked to an Ethereal or anything like that…”

  Considering this, Ryan paused. “Uh…well, that’s not exactly true.”

  Ambrose reached out and grabbed the door. “Let’s get out of this wagon, boys. We can continue our discussion in less cramped quarters.”

  “Great idea.”

  Cal unfolded himself from the back seat and stepped out to the sidewalk. Then he extended a hand to help Ambrose slowly clamber from the seat next to him. Ryan, last to exit, took in a deep breath and noted the air itself seemed tinged with a slightly acrid scent. An odd, yet penetrating odor of blood and death.

  All around them on the sidewalks and scattered into the streets lay tatters and snatches of cloth that had been the garments of thousands of Lycans fleeing the wrath of the Silent Ones. Ryan swallowed hard as he stood there looking at all that was left of the people in this part of the city. Even though he knew now they were werewolves, he couldn’t help but think of them as regular people – at least most of the time. Rags and swatches of cloth, shoes, and pieces of metal that had been buckles, clasps, even jewelry were strewn haplessly across the walks and roadways.

  And then another thought knifed through him as tatters of clothing whipped and skidded in a breeze coming in from the nearby harbor: He had been only seconds from being eaten alive himself.

  He stood there staring off at nothing in particular as the reality of what had almost happened stunned him. He was aware of someone speaking, but he hadn’t processed their words.

  “What’s the matter with you, boy?” Ambrose has straightened up and had placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

  “What…? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about something.”

  Ambrose raised an eyebrow as he regarded him. “I was just asking you what you meant when we were getting out of the car – something about ‘not exactly’…”

  Ryan hesitated, looked from Ambrose to Cal and back. “Oh right, I remember… we were talking about the Ethereals.”

  “Well,” said Cal. “So what did you mean by that?”

  Leaning against the car, Ryan composed his thoughts, hoping he would make sense to them. “You were saying that nobody’s ever talked to them – the Ethereals – and actually, I kinda have.”

  As soon as he spoke, he could almost feel the weight of the stares Ambr
ose and Cal focused on him.

  “I think you’d better explain that,” said Ambrose.

  Ryan began his story with a measured pace, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to sound crazy or weird or anything like that. And so, he gradually unraveled his experience with the Ethereal and how he’d helped the entity escape extermination by the Uberalls.

  When Ryan wrapped things up, Cal was looking at him with obvious admiration. Ambrose was tugging thoughtfully at his beard.

  “Amazing,” said Cal.

  Ambrose gave his head a slow shake. “There is nothing new under the sun, but there are lots of old things we don't know.” He allowed himself a small grin. “I think our young friend has just explained our salvation.”

  Ryan shrugged. “I was thinking it was the only explanation. Even though I have no idea how it happened. I mean, what’re the odds the Ethereal I saved would be in Balmore, right where I was?”

  “Since we have no idea how many Ethereals actually exist… or where they spend most of their time, there is no way to answer with much certainty.”

  “But there has to be an answer,” said Cal. His eyes had widened as he too seemed to sense the impact of what had happened to them. “I mean, there can’t be any reason for the Ethereals to save us – unless it was because of Ryan.”

  “Hmmm. Perhaps we are dealing with some kind of shared awareness…?” Ambrose held up his right index finger to emphasize the notion he proposed. “Such as what we observe in the insect world. A hive mentality or a means of communicating across the entire… ah, species, simultaneously.”

  “Makes sense to me,” said Ryan. “I mean, they don’t seem to have bodies like us, right? So if they are more… mind… than anything, then I guess they can have telepathy, right?”

  Ryan made sure not to repeat his mistake of saying mental telepathy. He remembered the Ethereal’s snarky remark: Is there another kind of telepathy? Ambrose might say something similar.

  Ambrose nodded. “Well said.”

  “I wonder if there’s any way to thank them?” said Cal.

  Ryan chuckled. “If they have the powers I think they do, I have a feeling they know we’re grateful.”

  “Quite so,” said Ambrose as he began looking up and down the adjacent streets. “But, I say, boys, I think the time has come for us to get moving. We don’t want to be caught meandering around this part of the city. Somebody might want to know how we survived … or just what our business might be.”

  Ryan knew the old man was correct. The center of the devastation was exactly the wrong place to be. But where would they go? And how would they ever get back to Emma – wherever she was – and ultimately Telly? Sometimes the full weight of this whole situation pressed down so greatly upon him he felt like just giving up.

  “Which way?” said Cal.

  Ambrose pointed north, away from the harbor area. “There’s nothing below our position but the remnants of chaos.”

  “Yeah,” said Cal. “But I’ve got an idea for one of those remnants…”

  Ambrose regarded him with a cautious expression. “Really? And what might that be?”

  Cal grinned. “Okay, how about this…?”

  Ten minutes later, Cal was driving them northward in a wide-bodied steam sedan he’d commandeered from its unfortunate owner who would never be needing the vehicle again.

  “Genius, lad!” Ambrose had said as he sprawled in comfort across the couch-like back seat.

  “I’d thought we might use that parked car we were hiding in, but it didn’t have a key. Then I realized there’d be plenty of ready-to-run stuff close to the water.”

  Ryan watched the older boy wheel the big sedan toward the upper quadrants of the city. Only when they were rolling steadily did he allow himself to think about Emma and whether or not she’d escaped. He didn’t know how they’d gotten separated when the attack of the Silent Ones had sent them running from their safe house. She’d been with Dillon, and Ryan hoped he’d been smart enough to get them to higher ground in time.

  He felt a hard lump sinking through his gut. The idea that Emma might not have escaped those horrible chewing things made him ill. Winding down the passenger side window, he stuck his head out and threw up along the side door.

  2

  The first thing Emma noticed after the attack ended was the silence.

  Only minutes before, the city of Balmore had been a maelstrom of sounds – horrible wails of agony and a frenzied gibber of feeding. She stood now at an intersection flanked by tall buildings and looked down the gradual incline of Calvern Street as it sought the sea-level of the inner harbor. So quiet now, so completely empty that she and Dillon could be the only ones left in the city.

  “Ryan was down there,” she said, almost whispering, as if she by not saying it too loud, it might not be true. “We’ve got to find him!”

  Dillon lowered his gaze. “Emma…that might be hard to do. There’s no way to know where he went.”

  “He was with Cal and Ambrose. They’d know how to stay safe.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “I hope you’re right.”

  “It’s not just that,” she said, wondering if she should go on. “It’s hard to explain, but… I get these feelings – almost like I can actually see something that’s going on that’s not right there in front of me.”

  “Clairvoyance? Is that what you mean?” Dillon stared into her eyes with a look suggesting he was impressed with her admission.

  “I guess…if that’s what it’s called. But I can’t make it happen – it just kind of comes over me.”

  “And you’re feeling it now?”

  Emma nodded. “Yes, but in a vague sort of way. Nothing with much detail. Just a general thing that tells me Ryan’s… okay. That he’s out there somewhere.”

  “All right, that’s good enough for me. We’ll find him.”

  Pointing down the gentle slope of the street, she said, “Is it safe to go down that way now?”

  “Who knows? But is seems pretty clear the Silent Ones are gone. That’s been their pattern – attack and leave, along with those things they brought with them.”

  Emma shuddered at the thought of the tiny chittering monsters that swarmed over the city like a blanket of army ants and consumed every living thing in their path.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Dillon paused. “Still, it probably doesn’t make much sense for us to be headed south of here. I mean, if Ryan’s okay like you say, and he survived… well, I don’t think he’s have done it by being down there where all the other people were getting killed.”

  “Oh,” said Emma as the logic of his words punched her. “I see what you mean. So where do we start looking?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea. But I’d figure any survivors would be moving north…” Dillon gestured at the debris in the streets below them. “…and away from all of this mess.”

  Emma took a deep breath, exhaled. She felt shaky, unsteady. And she hated it. She wanted to act on her conviction that Ryan was alive and she could find him. “So we start heading that way?”

  “That’s my vote.”

  Emma nodded. “Lead on…”

  “You gonna be okay?” he said as he put his hand on her shoulder. A hand that recently been a thick heavy paw with great sharp claws folded within.

  “I think so. But it’s going to be a while for me to get over this. All of it.”

  She realized she was having a hard time looking directly at Dillon, as if she were afraid he might begin to change back into that wolf-thing at any moment. No longer could she regard him as that savvy, charming boy… now that she knew he could also be something else entirely.

  He removed his hand from her shoulder as if detecting her ambivalent feelings. “Hey, I’m not sure I’ll ever get over it. I mean, we’ve been through a lot today.”

  “It’s not over yet. I feel so… so lost, so disconnected. It’s almost too much to take in, to keep it all together.”

  Dillon sta
rted up the street, away from the lower harbor area, and Emma kept pace beside him, then stopped for one last look at the city below their position – as if hoping she might see Ryan running up the sidewalk.

  The streets were so quiet, so devoid of… of life. From here she could see cars and trucks cluttering the curbs and center lanes after their drivers had been… taken. Some of them had careened into each other, their steam boilers ruptured and releasing hot vapors.

  No. Nothing down there but death.

  Ryan wouldn’t be there.

  “Let’s go,” said Dillon, reaching out to take her hand.

  At first touch she fought the instinct to pull away, then relaxed. Dillon was no monster – he’d proved that by saving her life. She had to lighten up and go with what served for reality in this weird, weird world.

  As they walked slowly through one intersection after another, the taller towers of stone and glass that defined the metro center surrendered to endless blocks of smaller business buildings, which in turn gave way to residential districts comprised of densely–packed blocks of narrow row-homes. Looking up any of these blocks, lit by streetlamps, Emma could see endless numbers of white marble steps, dwindling off into the distance

  Every once in a while, Dillon would pause, his head turreting from side to side as if he were taking in data only he could detect.

  “What’re you doing?” She looked at him with caution.

  “If I told you, you either wouldn’t believe me, or you wouldn’t like it.”

  Emma didn’t like the sound of that. “Try me…”

  “Okay, I’ve been trying to locate your brother’s scent…”

  “What?”

  “See, I told you you’d–”

  “No, I’m not upset. Just surprised, I guess. I would’ve never expected it, that’s all.”