DROCA R1: Bearing

Prologue

Wild, panicked neighing resounded across the slopes of the small, bush farm. The voices continued as the horses galloped the length of the paddocks in a frenzied state until a figure could be seen hurriedly striding towards the beasts with a packet of carrots in hand. He reached the metal and wood fence and slipped between the wires, avoiding the electrified tape with ease of years of practice. Keeping a safe distance from the electric tape which skirted the outside of the interconnected paddocks, the man quickly ran his hand through hazel brown hair while his eyes strayed from the disturbed horses to the surrounding trees.

"Jeez. First I get a phone call from my ex and now the horses have lost it," He mumbled before bringing his mind back to the horses. The horses were a danger to themselves, one wrong foot and they could sprain their leg or even break it. The majestic beasts were to confused to even take in their surroundings.

With a resigned sigh, he began to edge towards the side that the small herd was running along with his arms flailing above him. "O! Girls! Calm down lovelies, there's nothing to get frightened about. Calm down and you'll get a piece of carrot... or even a whole one."

As he neared them, they began to slow their panicked race but the fear still showed in their  wide eyes and heaving sides. The oldest one, a senior stock horse, broke away from the group and pranced over to the man with a nicker. The ears still flicked to and fro but the whites of the eyes were disappearing quickly.

Running a hand over her sweaty head he flashed a toothy smile at her, "You've always been a reasonable gal sweetheart. How about some carrots and then you can go back and tell your herd to settle down." He pulled out an orange root and held it for in the palm of his hand. He could never get over the feeling of their velvet lips against his palm or the cheeky tongue that would occasionally ambush him when checking in his horses.

As she ate he slowly rub her ears and neck until the muscles began to relax. By the time she had messily chomped down three carrots, the other four had cautiously trotted over to him, occasionally neighing out loud, obviously still spooked by something. The man eased himself up to each of the brown horses and cooed to them softly while handing out carrots like he had done with the oldest horse. It only took a few minutes for his presence and distraction to work their trick but his curiously mind was still unnerved by his herds reaction. What could spook these normally sound creatures?

"Alright my lovelies, it's time I started heading back. There's work to be done and bills to be paid as much as I like to dream about a different reality where I could spend all day conversing with you for real," he cooed softly to each with a firm pat before backing away. He never trusted having his back completely turned to the silly creatures, they had a habit of giving sneak bites, their version of affection or when they just wanted to play.

Of course his lead girl wouldn't have it and started to follow him, "Come on Lizzy, I need to go, I'll be back later to day as I always am." He firmly stopped her with a hand on her head before walking away again. Lizzy stayed with a resigned look before taking it out on a light brown mare about to follow him. The firm mock-bite was enough to stop her and the rest of the herd from following him.

He occasionally looked back at the group, more confident in having his back turned because the group weren't tailing him. As he neared the Sunning Stone, a wide, flat rock that reached up to his waist, a warning chorus of neighs resounded behind him. He flew towards the rock as the herd cantered widely around him and the rock followed closely by a deep tremor in the earth. With a heave he pulled himself onto the rock and braced himself for the next, bigger tremor that sent the herd into a more intense frenzy while the brown haired man could only watch in shock and fear.

Half-way through standing up and preparing to shout out to the horses to try to get their attention, a blast of wind hit him. It was much harder and stronger than he had ever felt in this region and sent him staggering backwards and off the rock onto the debris that lay around it. His head landed on the packed earth, neatly missing the rocks that bruised the rest of his body but still hard enough to cause pain to lance through his skull. His stunned body lay still on the earth, partially twisted, as started to drift into darkness watching the trees madly blow in the shockwave-like wind while the earth continued to rumble in rhythm to the wind.

Chapter 1

"No," the man spoke roughly into the white nokia, a purposefully old-fashion styled phone. He liked how it resembled one his father had had in 2015 though it didn't stop him from having a five-year old wrist computer called the "Liztola 2.5". There were many newer models but, like his father, he had a love for nostalgia.

He ruffled his hazel hair with a worn hand before taking in a sharp breath as the phone shrieked at him. "We broke up nearly six years ago Elloise. What makes you think I even care about you, little alone want you back. Can't you just leave me alone, I gave you everything I had, even before the divorce."

He clicked the phone off and sculled the remained of his beer. The man had matching hazel hair and eyes which complemented his naturally tanned skin and would have like to drink something heavier but he had responsibilities on the farm beside his horses to think about and getting drunk would just unravel all his hard work. Letting the last drop roll of the lip of the bottle onto his tongue, he walked around the counter to the bin and dropped the glass bottle onto a collection of its brothers with a chink. It was an impressive collection considering that he had only be off his pain medication a week ago. The doctor had told him to consider himself lucky that he his head had missed the rocks and that the horses hadn't trampled him in their confusion. The man just thought the world was against him.

"Why can't this all stop. I'm tired of life," he mumbled as he slowly massaged his temples though the truth was that he could never leave his horses behind. They hadn't been the reason his marriage had fallen apart, they were the replacement for his ex when she had walked out on him with another man. Before the horses, it had only been her. She was a born and bred city girl with an irrational fear of all animals while her then husband, now ex-husband had never gone a day in his life without an animal. They had owned a dog for first two years of their marriage but the poor border collie had been accidentally hit by a car at night when Elloise had driven into her on the way home to the farm. They had never gotten another pet after that.

He paced onto the ground level verandah and dealt with his gum boots, turning them upside down and banging them against a nearby post before putting them on. Confident that there were no creepy crawlies in his boots he stood up and surveyed his small farm. From the back door he could only see the two paddocks stretching down the hill with the highway in the background. The veggie patch, he made a mental note, needed tending and was to the left of him, hidden behind left side of the house so he could spend the cold mornings sipping tea from the kitchen and watch the locals rummage through his garden. He had never had the heart to prevent the kangaroos and birds from taking what they liked, it wasn't like he couldn't buy replacements..

Turning his attention back to the paddocks, he slowly walked towards the fence. The paddocks were really one large area split by a wire and wood fence, the same type of fence that borders the paddocks perimeter. There were sturdy, car-width gates along each side but he was far to nimble for them and preferred to slip between the wire railing. A habit he had stared as a kid and knew very well that it could get him a fix if the horses ever decided to make to cause a fuss as he was passing through.

As he paused at the fence as he thought back to the strange weather. It had been a bit over two months since the weird weather events that was now known as the Shockwave. Experts still had no idea what is was, why it had happened or even where it had originated. What they did know was that every inch of the globe had felt it and only a small, unfortunate number and been in the wrong place at the wrong timed and had been killed.  

He had gotten of slightly worse than most with a bruised back, spine and skull but that pain  had been slight in comparison to what he had discovered when he had woken up on the ground. He had staggered to his feet, cursing the clumsy gumboots and vowing to get rid of the rocks in the paddocks when he had heard a shrill, faint noise. He couldn't put his finger on whether it was a whinny or a neigh but the sound made him stumble around the rock towards the source. Every step had sent shards of fire through his back and by the time he had reached the nearest tree he was panting. The noise didn't stop as he pushed of from the tree and half limped, half stumbled over the crest of the hill until he saw a pile of muscle and hide twitching on the fence.

Fear caused him to run towards the pile, all caution about the other horses thrown to the wind. As he neared he realized the sound was fainter and the twitching of the dark brown mare grew weaker with ever second. A small part of him had realized that the horse must have been at it for hours to be so weak. A small flutter of hope rose and fell just as swiftly as reasoning over took his hope.

A few more staggered paces finally brought him level with the scene at the fence, allowing him to fully take in the sight of the two collapsed horse. Barely visible was his beloved Lizzy, her blood-caked right leg stuck out from her hind at a strange angle while a lighter mare, her daughter Autumn, lay draped over her in the opposite direction. Both their upper bodies lay on the crushed fence and looked as if they had collided while galloping and had unfortunately fallen towards the fence because of the slope. Occasionally Rose quivered as if she were trying to get up but her back legs remained still and only a hoarse, weak whiny-shriek could be uttered from her frothing mouth.

"No, no, no, no..." He remembered repeating, over and over as he had approached the pile until the chain had been broken by a husky gasp. The only words he had uttered after that had been to the vet on his phone, even when the middle-aged lady had arrived, he hadn't been able to utter more than a few uncontrollable gasps as the tears streamed down his face.The vet had to physically push him backwards to get at Rose because he could only rub her weakening body in all the places he had once known she loved.

Words had flowed from the ladies mouth but all he could do was shake his head in denial and accept a warm beer from her. He knew her well, as many horse owners end up doing with their vet and farrier. Together they heaved drank until the sun started to slink below the horizon at which point the vet let and returned with two shovels. The pair worked until the moon had risen just below its peak, aided by the vets four wheel drive, and quickly set about rolling the heavy, still warm bodies, into the gaping holes.

As he staggered away, a bear in hand and firm hand on his shoulder, he dully looked at the blissful sky and the blanket of stars. His few, simple thoughts were of flying away through the velvet night towards a better, different world where the stars weren't obscured by pollution in any part of the world.

Chapter 2

The morning after the horrific event had seen a busy household. Awoken by the banging of pots and pans he had crept half way down the halfway until he had recognized the voices echoing of the walls. Happily stunned, the depressed man had spent the next two weeks with a mate or two in the house to help out around the place. It had been a time of large meals, hearty laughs and plenty of beer, until Dean had made the man see the doctor for the pain in his back.

Now, just over six weeks afterwards, the hazel-haired man thought back to one of the more intelligent pieces of advice Dean, his closest friend who had also pulled him through the divorce and had a family of four himself, and gruffly grabbed him in a bear hug and, with a serious note, said "Ben, promise me, you won't let this keep you down. I know your strong but you have a habit or letting the most impossible to change work at you." Drawing back he had stared at the still slightly dull eyes while keeping Ben at arms reach with both his hands firmly on his shoulders, "You need to let go of those things so that you can learn how to change that which is possible you little prick." He had punctuated the last words with a short laugh and a firm pat from his hand before releasing Ben and leaving.

Every time Ben thought back to that moment, he could almost feel like he was fourteen again after his first real fight when Dean had helped him up and given him nearly the same advise. That time it had been over his honor living on a farm when a city slicker had tried to put farmers' children's down, unaware of the advantages of living and working on a property. He smiled, relishing the moment his knuckles had firmly connected with the boys jaw and wishing the recent past could be solved just as easily.

Stretching and sighing in the fresh morning sun on his bleached veranda, he set about bashing and putting on his gumboots. As an after thought, he stopped at the very edge of the deck to stare out across the paddocks at the peacefully grazing horses. His mind filled in the shadowy illusions of a greying brown mare and another lighter brown mare for a breath moment before he mentally shook his head and took the three steps to ground level. He still missed them and remembered a remark from a mate long ago that his horses were his children. That remark felt truer every day and as much as he longed for a time without them he didn't have the heart to make that wish. He was a farmer after all and a new better than most about keeping yourself grounded.  

A neigh split the air and a red-brown stock horse galloped up to the fence followed closely by the rest of the herd with the addition of two skinny foals. The sound pierced his heart briefly, another reminder of that day, but the foals melted the feeling away. One of his friends, another stock horse owner, had lent him his stallion with ever intention of giving Ben another mouth to feed but under the guise of needing to give the stallion a bit of space away from his other stallions. He smiled at the how stunned he had been when the vet had told him that his mare had been pregnant, not fat, as he walked over to the fence and slid through the wires with a slight in-breath from the remnants of his injury. The stallion had only been in the main paddocks for two days because the gate had become loose while he had been out of town for those brief days.  

As always, he was greeted by a crowd of warm bodies, eager for their share of attention. Laughing softly so as not to let his normal sharp laughter frighten the foals, he pushed his way through the crowd until he had enough room to allow the fresh air to reach him. The cleared space didn't last long as one after the other became impatient in seconds as they always did. Giving in to their eagerness, Ben began to methodically rub each animal before attempting to approach the foal twins. They were still uneasy with him, as he would expect for week-olds, but he couldn't resist the innocence of their ungainly legs or the feel of their soft fur. It reminded him of the lighter brown mare, Autumn, when Lizzy had given birth to her. Perhaps he was just a softy, Elloise had always said he wasn't masculine enough around baby animals, or any animal for that matter. The closest he had come to being cold blooded had been with a feral dog but it had luckily chickened out for the both of them.

He spent just over half an hour rubbing the horses and letting them play with his hazel hair and baggy top before disentangling himself from the herd and crawling back through the fence. Safely on the other side, he set of briskly for the small shed to mix up their daily meal and grab a few tempters for the foals. Preparing the feed always helped to clear his mind, the recipes he now used were complex and required all his attention preventing darker thoughts from wondering in.

Finishing up with a quick squirt form the hose and stir, he collected the buckets and placed them on a trolley reminiscent of a two level, monster-truck shopping trolley complete with suspension, another project to keep him occupied. As he pushed it along the fence, followed by the herd on the other side, to a large shed-like barn at one of the corners closest the house, he marveled once again at how appreciative he was of making this thing. It saved him a lot of time in transporting buckets and prevented the horses from getting to impatient and taking it out on the nearest friend. The buckets were nearly all identical in appearance and contents but the birth of the foals meant that the red-brown mare needed a different bucket and much more nutrient-rich meal. Eventually he would have to buy another two buckets for the foals as well when they were old enough.

Carefully and quickly he emptied each bucket into one of the set hanging feed troughs in a ritual fashion. It was a practiced routine that made sure each horse got a bucket without any fuss and that the right horses got the right meals when it was important, like today. As the horses fed, he soft crept up tot he fence and held his hands out, revealing two sugar cubes to the foals. The bravest of the two who had a lighter main and tail than her body, stepped closer to him but snorted and backed away. The other backed up as well before deciding to suckle instead. The motion attracted the braver foal and Ben sighed before standing up and dropping the sugar into the mothers trough much to her enjoyment. Once the foals began suckling, it was near impossible to get their attention without forcing them.

Content that the horses were busy, he followed the fence away from the house for a few metres before slipping back in. The herd would be busy for a few minutes yet which gave Ben enough time to head to That Rock as he now though of it. He had kept to his unmentioned promise to remove all the cursed rock rubble from around it, only because he couldn't remove the rock itself. It felt like That Rock had caused everything bad on this farm, even before the Shockwave. He had broken a leg falling of it, lost Elloise on it, had a friends break their arms falling of it and have a horse gain a permanent limp from it. It was bad news or perhaps it was trying to tell him something but he was far to stubborn to realize what the moral of That Rock was.

As he normally did when approaching the rock, he began to search the area around his invisible path to it. Every so often he would bend down cautiously, still wary of his back, and grab a rock so that he had more than two handfuls of stones and pebbles by the time he had reached That Rock. In the very same ritual, he deposited the rubble with disgust upon That Rock and wondered where the darn rocks come from in the first place. As always, his ungraceful manner in depositing the rocks caused the growing pile to landslide and he angrily set about picking up all the dislodged stones, as well as some new ones, to be placed carefully upon the pile a second time.

As he was settling the last dislodged stone on the ever unstable pile the sun glanced of a particularly shiny stone the surfaced at the very top of the pile. Curious in his boredom but also unsure of where this unusual ebony stone had come from he prodded it. A sharp pain lanced from the point of contact up his arm to a point at the back of the skull. He barely had time to gasp before the burning sensation dulled and an invisible switch was flipped sending the world into darkness.

Chapter 3

"Mmmm" Ben mumbled, flapping a hand at velvet lips with course whiskers. The lips carefully bit at him playfully, not letting teeth touch skin. "Stop it, it's too early for this, I..."

His hazel and green-streaked eyes flew open and widened at the sight of the many snuffling heads lowered around him. Slowly he levered himself upright, pushing aside a curious face to give himself room.

"Thank god you didn't try to tread on me my lovelies," he mumbled to them around a stiff tongue. "I don't know who would have wanted such fine stock horses in this world anymore if I'd been accidentally killed plus," he playfully laughed at one particularly close head as he fumbled with her lips in a silly lip war. "I doubt anyone could love you more than me."

He glanced up to see a dark brown mare lip the rock pile in curiosity causing a small landslide. As she moved her head away from the commotion, Ben remembered the strange, stinging stone that lay at the top of the pile. Worried for his horses, he swiftly got to his feet, startling the foals, and pushed the horses next to That Rock away from it.

As he shoved their stubborn bodies he firmly called out commands, "Go on, back up. Back up girls," and followed up with cluck-clicking sounds with his tongue. Hesitantly, and perhaps a bit stubbornly, they backed away from the rock but only two lost interest and began grazing nearby with ears cocked towards him and That Rock.

Taking one last measure at the his audience, he turned back to That Rock, taking a step so that he was within reach of the pile. Taking a deep breath he hesitantly shifted the pebbles around the base to release a cascade of rubble, revealing more of the strange stone in the center. He could tell by just looking at it that it was not an ingenious stone and certainly not one he thought had ever been discovered. Just the markings marked it out as being different. A first glance would suggest a stone like black obsidian but it was covered in deep red, not maroon, lines that almost looked like veins. That was something he had never even heard off. Had it been white veins, he was sure a professional might have been able to give him a fancy name for this stone but he wasn't picking it up again.

Aside from the colour, the stone was round and, even with the small portion showing, it looked like it would be egg-shaped rather than oval or circular. It certain didn't look irregular in the curve suggesting that it had been turned by human hands and that was the most peculiar thought that entered his mind.

"If this stone has been turned by someone, who put this here?" He muttered to himself with furrowed eyebrows while fiddling with a few stones. "I certainly don't remember picking it up or being zapped by any of the stones I put on this pile."

He stood still awhile, aware of the dropping curiosity from the horses, before a grey mare reached out and lipped his shirt. Shrugging, he backed away the rock and wrestled his shirt from the horse before setting of at a quick pace for the tin shed. As he walked, he was aware of a tingling sensation that grew with each step but he was stubbornly ignoring it so he could go about constructing a horse-proof makeshift fence around That Rock to make sure no one else got zapped. He refused to have a repeat of the horse incident.

Returning form the tin shed with a bundle of metal stick posts specifically designed to allow electric tape, like that balanced upon the top of the bundle, to be threaded through their curved tops he went about placing the metal stick at intervals a roughly two meters from rocks. He would't actually electrify it, beside the fact that their was no power source near That Rock, but experience will hopefully keep the horses away. As he worked Ben could not shake the prickly sensation which grew weaker and strongly as he moved around the two rocks but his somewhat grounded personality passed it off as nothing more than the remnants from the zapping.

As he lay in bed his mind refused to drift into sleep but to the strange stone, alone on That Rock. As if, he thought, that rock is amongst other rubble where it belongs. What am I even thinking anyway, rocks can't feel let alone be lonely. He rolled onto his right side and stared across from the left side of his queen double. Despite all the time that had passed since his only divorce, few other women had slept on the left side of the bed and he certainly didn't feel like moving from the right side where he had spent years breaking it into just the right shape and yet he always felt lonely in this bed. Just like that strange rock.

"Damn that blastard stone!" He cursed out loud before rolling to the left and out of bed. He quickly paced down the hallway and out the house. Jamming his feet quickly into his gumboots with no thought of creepy crawlies ???????. Rubbing his arms in the chill autumn night, he stumbled to the fence and rushed through. His impatience was rewarded with a shock to he upper back that sent him sprawling before he had even finished standing up. Cursing the fence Ben shook of the shock and stumbled through the moonless darkness to That Rock. Shouldering past the makeshift fence and bruising his knees against the rough rock he reached out to the pile. His fingers easily shifted through the carefully built pile, causing and endless cascade of rubble, before reaching the source. No shock met his eager fingers. Grabbing it, he pulled the black stone towards him and held it in the darkness with all the strength of someone who had found a something they never knew was lost and would never again let it go.

Chapter 4

The weak morning light filtered through the gaps in the wooden blinds, reaching out into the warm darkness of the bedroom. Ben shifted uncomfortably, pulling the ebony stone closer to his mildly hairy chest as well as hoisting the blanket above his head until his messy hazel hair was sprouting between the pillow and doona. Unconcerned, the morning light continued to grow in intensity for a few more minutes until the man fidgeted yet again and let out a groan. Wriggling through the winter blanket, he slowly slid out of bed with the stone and groped towards and out of the bedroom door. As he groggily stumbled through the cold wooden hallway, his left arm securely wrapped around the foot high stone and the other tracing the path to the kitchen on the wall, his mind was already buzzing with thoughts of the Shockwave.

In a stupor he flicked the gas stove on to boil his pre-filled kettle before turning to his meager cupboard for a teabag of English breakfast and one-handedly disconnected the tag before placed the bag end in a hearty white mug. Rather than turning to the small fridge for bread he instead turned to the dusty kitchen window and stared out towards the rising sun.

Why. What caused the Shockwave, was it a bomb? Where is ground-zero? Why did it have to hit my farm? His thoughts continued to whirl around his sleepy mind until the piercing whistle of the kettle disturbed his confusion. Half-consciously he flipped the gas off and poured the steaming water into his mug. Why do I care about any off this. The Shockwave has brought nothing but misery to the world. Deaths, the Gifted, confusion, Creatures. Why should I get myself messed up in any of this and what is with this stone!

He glanced down at the stone still securely settled in the crook of his arm, half aware of how natural it felt.  A nagging thought occurred to him as he continued to look at the stone and it's too perfect surface. It wasn't dimpled or dinted nor did the veins breach the surface and cause a slight imperfection on the surface like some stones. Normally this wouldn't have mattered to him but having worked on this farm for over a decade, stones this large never had such perfection. Lifting his stone up to the light, he noticed a red sheen, more like the colour of fresh blood than that of the veins under the surface. Twisting it so he could follow the network of veins from one side to the other a single word surfaced in his mind.

Egg. He thought with complete confidence and surprise. The egg was roughly ostrich shaped, perhaps a little more lizard-like, but now unmistakable egg-like. Ben couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of this sooner and a sudden surge of dread swept through him wiping out the Shockwave thoughts. Suppose I had held it too tightly during my sleep and it's cracked or that it got to cold or hot? How do I even know what I should do if this creature shouldn't exist. He realized upon remembering the largest egg known to man was the Ostrich egg.

Carefully he rotated the egg, feeling the surface with firm hands to check for cracks. Relived at the flawless surface he tucked the egg back into the crook of his arm and ever so carefully rapped his rough knuckles against the surface. His knuckles met the hard surface with a dull thud that vibrated through the egg. He could tell form experience that the inside was dense but it wasn't completely solid like that of a real stone but it wasn't as hollow as that of a chicken or goose egg either. Perhaps that's because of the thicker shell, he thought remembering that the sunlight hadn't gone through the object and outlined any shapes like a normal egg would have. As a farmer, this worried him but not as much as it would have. He knew that everything was okay.

Remembering his stewing tea, he whirled to the fridge to pull out the milk. Rather awkwardly he unscrewed the lid and poured a dollop into the mug before screwing the lids back on again placing the bottle once more into the fridge. Taking his mug, tea bag still in, he elbowed the through the front door and onto a worn veranda seat. As he sipped the cup, staring early sun-bathed paddocks and peacefully browsing horses, he realized he would need to ring Jim up and ask him to mind the property for a while. Glancing down at the egg before searching out the red-brown horse amongst the herd he began planning for a hopefully small horseback journey to the coast. He wanted, for no particular reason, to be free of his non-versatile and loud vehicle on this trip. Perhaps his conscious wanted him to be less noticeable to the Creatures that he was more than likely to brush up against on his epiphany trip.