Chapter Two

Chapter Two

 

            Darren poked his head through the half-open door. He looked around cautiously. No one was in sight. He motioned for Breya to come in. She stepped through the door carrying the glowing egg and Darren hurried her through.

            Still cautious, they made their way to the other door, and went through it. Darren stepped out into the alleyway. He stopped.

            “We’re going to need to hide that egg,” he said.

            “Okay…”

            “You aren’t going to like my suggestion, though.” Breya shot a confused and worried look at Darren.

 

            They came around the corner holding hands. Yes, it was Darren’s idea. No egg in sight; just a pregnant girl and her boyfriend walking down the streets. There was nothing suspicious about that. Nevertheless, the look on both of their faces could tell anyone that they were nervous.

            The guards smiled and nodded as they passed, and the civilians acted normal. Finally, they reached her house. It was late in the evening and no one was home. The time seemed to have passed without their knowledge. Her parents were out working; her siblings were still at the schoolmaster’s house.

            “I sleep in the barn with the horses,” Breya said as they got nearer.  “We can hide it underneath the hay bales.”

            Darren opened the door to her barn. Two lanterns were burning rather dimly, yet they managed to light up the important areas. They walked in and Breya immediately pulled the egg from underneath her shirt. She set it down on a pile of hay while Darren looked out a window. Once he saw that no one was coming, he closed the shutters and locked them.

            Breya put her hands on the egg and felt it. “Darren, it’s warm.”

            “It’s warm?”

            “Warm… it’s not hot, though. It feels like it’s radiating a bit of heat.”

            “Do you think it’s going to hatch soon?” Darren asked.

            “I don’t know.” Breya stood up. “If it hatches… it can’t stay here.”

            “Why not?”

            “My father’s a blacksmith. He comes in here every day.”

            Darren let out a curse. “Let’s keep him in my barn then. No one goes in there much. If he is going to hatch we need a plan.”

            “Did you have anything in mind?” Breya asked.

            “We could let it go… whatever it is,” Darren replied.

            “It might die… did you think of that?”

            “Look, whatever it is it’s the only one around here. And… it looks like something that could get us killed. I don’t really want that thing to stay around longer than it needs to.”

 

            The sun was just rising. The roosters crowed and danced about in their cages as the world sprang to life. Darren was already up, working in the barn. The egg had spent the night in his barn, covered in hay and horse manure. Darren had intended for it to hide the green glow from anyone who went into the barn, but Breya told him that it would only speed the incubation process. Women confused Darren. They always told him to do one thing, but when he did it they were always mad at him for doing it.

            He held a hammer in one hand and a red hot piece of metal in the other. His elbow was soft, allowing the hammer to slam on the red metal and flatten it. When his task was finished, he set the metal in a bucket of water to cool off. The metal flared up and sent bubbles of air to the top, turning the water white.

            Before long he had fashioned a pair of tongs. He set them both in the bucket of water and picked up a piece of paper. He scratched out the last line with his pencil and set it down. He opened the door and ran outside. He ran down the steps and into the forest. He passed the large boulder and finally came to the waterfall. He saw Breya sitting on the fallen tree over the water. “Well?” he asked her.

            “Well, what?” she replied.

            “Did you get in trouble?”

            “No. Did you?” she retorted.

            “For what?” he asked.

            “Exactly.”

            Darren walked across the log and sat down next to her in the middle, their feet dangling in the water below. “So… I’ve been thinking,” he said.

            “About what?”

            “Gwyneth.”

            “Okay… what about her?” she asked.

            “I was kind of expecting you to answer that for me,” Darren said, exasperated.

            “Alright,” she said. “What’s going on? I mean besides your girlfriend leaving and everything.”

            “I don’t know… I just have this feeling. I’ve never had it before. It all started in the barn. Just after you felt the egg and said it was hot. I feel like- like something’s about to happen. It almost feels like warning… or a… a slap.”

            “A slap?” Breya asked.

            “Yeah. Like I should be doing something but I’m not.”

            “Do you know what to do?” she asked him.

            “I don’t!” Darren said. “That’s what’s bothering me.”

            Breya was going to continue the conversation but stopped at the weird sight before her. Darren lifted his right hand and looked at it as it shook uncontrollably. He had noticed it too, and at the same time that Breya had seen it.

            “What’s happening?” she asked.      

            “I don’t know. I can’t get it to stop.” He squeezed his hand tighter in hopes of ending the seizure. But cutting of the circulation didn’t end the seizure, it only made it worse.

            “Darren, stop!” she told him. “Just let go.”

            Darren instantly let go of his hand, but held it up in front of him. His fingers started to spasm, curling and straightening individually as he gasped in pain. “What is it?” he asked. “Why is this happening?”

            Breya cursed. Her eyes were locked on one thing… there was a small bump on Darren’s forearm that was slowly making its way down to his wrist. “Darren! Darren!” she yelled hysterically. Darren didn’t look at his arm. He only kept his eyes looking straight ahead. “Darren! You’re pale, what’s wrong? Talk to me!”

            Darren didn’t say a word. Instead, he reached his left hand to the bump and covered it, trying to stop it from moving. The bump, which had now moved to the top of Darren’s arm, continued on its present course. It moved slower now, making its way down his wrist and finally stopping on the back of his hand.

            “Darren! Do something!” Breya kept yelling to him, but he was still unresponsive. The bump expanded into an oval shape, and flattened into a circle. And in the moment most vital to his survival, Darren fainted.