Buried by Earth

At the top of the hill, Hale wiped the sweat from his forehead and scanned the desolate wasteland for any signs of danger. The Rift Scar spread out as far as the eye could see. Grey craggy summits faded into the clear blue sky. Flurries of dust gusted about him as the wind caught the dry dirt. There were no trees, no grass, no sign of life at all.

He just hoped it stayed that way for the rest of the patrol.

So far, it had been uneventful except for the oppressive heat. He tugged at the neckline of his body armour to create some airflow. It was too hot to help much. He would’ve taken the Kevlar off, except it had saved his life more than once.

Hale sighed and let go of his body armour. Even if he’d gotten some cool air, it wouldn’t have helped. The moon would be full tonight, and it already called to him, pulling at his wolf.

Hunt. Run, Fang, Hale’s wolf, whispered in his mind, more images than words. It showed them running with the pack, leading the hunt.

Soon, Hale said, pushing the image away, trying not to let his wolf distract him, which wasn’t easy. The full moon was the only time they had a space where they were allowed to shift forms unless they took a turn patrolling as a wolf in the Rift Scar. Or they wanted to risk getting locked up.

Even though Shifters had been around for over a hundred years, humans didn’t trust that they had control over their other halves. Any Shifter caught in their animal form outside approved locations would serve years in jail, or worse, depending on the judge.

His wolf huffed but pulled back at the idea of shifting here. Even in his human form, the place stank like meat left out too long in the sun. With his wolf’s sense of smell, it was a dozen times worse.

Hale rolled his shoulders and did another once-over of the horizon. The Highland Rift Scar was the smallest of the four in the UK. The Scars had been left behind after humans had won the Fae War in the early nineteen hundreds. But while the fae had retreated and poorly sealed their Rifts, they’d left a multitude of dangerous and violent creatures behind. It was Hale’s responsibility to keep their population under control so they didn’t venture into the local towns.

‘Any sign of activity?’ Shane asked as he stepped up beside Hale.

Shane had a thick trunk neck, square jaw, and stocky build. He’d been with the Highland Rift Pack for almost six months and had bulked up enough to pass for a pro wrestler. Hale suspected it had more to do with boredom than anything else.

The population of the closest town, Huntly, barely hit 5,000 people. There was little else to do but patrol the Rift Scar, exercise, or find someone willing to have a good time. Huntly had attracted plenty of the latter, with Shifters stationed close by. Especially near the full moon when energy ran high––and sometimes running just wasn’t enough of a release.

‘Nothing so far,’ Hale said as he moved his rifle to a more comfortable position. Just because it was boring now didn’t mean it would stay that way. Hale had split the team in half since they were on the border. That meant it was just him and Shane while the other three of his team worked parallel to their route.

‘Good,’ Shane said, looking over the grey landscape but didn’t add anything else. He’d been quiet most of the day, which was unusual for him.

Shane should’ve been in charge of this patrol, but after the way Hale’s day had gone, he’d needed a distraction. Being both the alpha and rift warden meant he was in charge whenever he joined a patrol. Unfortunately, it seemed to have annoyed Shane, though that hadn’t been Hale’s intent.

Shane looked like he was going to say more, but he shook his head and started down the hill but stumbled, foot catching on something. Hale reached out, just managing to grab the back of Shane’s Kevlar vest to pull him backwards. Shane grunted, falling into Hale, nearly sending them both to the ground.

‘You good?’ Hale asked as they stabilised.

‘Fucking Rift Scar,’ Shane muttered, pulling away. He reached down to yank out a skull that had been long since been picked clean and bleached white. It was the size of a ten-year-old, but it had a muzzle and savagely long teeth.

‘Imp,’ Hale said. The creatures were one of the most common in the Rift Scar. The two-legged predators were small in stature, but their claws and teeth were sharp enough to cause serious harm.

Shane grunted and threw the skull down the hill hard enough that it broke. The sound echoed over the dusty ground, making Hale’s trigger finger twitch where it lay safely along the frame of the gun. The patrol might have been quiet so far, but there was no need to push their luck.

It was almost like Shane was hoping for a fight, which was possible. He’d been restless for the last few weeks, volunteering for extra shifts in the Rift Scar. Hale had been happy to let him. They were always short-staffed, and it wasn’t like they had a lot of options. Humans couldn’t go into the Scar. The Rift venom—something that most Rift creatures carried—was nearly always deadly to them. That only left those from the Rift Bloodlines. Shifters and Elementals. With the Highland Rift Scar being so far north, few of those wanted a job here.

Shane started moving down the hill again. He kept shifting his grip on his gun. Whatever was going on with Shane, he wasn’t in a good place. But how the hell did Hale get Shane to open up to him?

‘Spit it out, Shane,’ Hale said at last, stopping at the bottom of the hill. In front of them was flat and open. If there were dangers, they’d see and hear them coming.

‘Are you going to tell me what happened with the prime alphas?’ Shane said, not looking at him.

‘They were just reviewing how the year had gone,’ Hale said, wishing he’d kept silent. The meeting had been less of an update and more of a lecture.

The prime alphas made up the governing force for Shifters in the UK. Six wolves who each managed their own little sliver of the country. They didn’t appreciate someone like Hale making suggestions or criticising how they ran things.

‘Did they talk about making any changes?’ Shane asked, turning back to Hale with hope in his eyes.

Which meant Hale hadn’t been half as discreet as he should have been.

‘They’ve decided everything should remain the same for at least the next year,’ Hale said. If the prime alphas had their way, it would remain the same this year and every year after that. To hell with how this pack suffered.

‘The land?’ Shane asked, but his eyes had already gone dark, no longer showing hope.

‘There will be no change on the land rental,’ Hale said, words tasting sour in his mouth, though he didn’t show how he felt to Shane. ‘They don’t believe changing the contract this year is cost-effective.’

Cost efficiency had nothing to do with their decision. But Hale couldn’t tell Shane that.

Shane scowled at him. ‘We can’t continue with only being allowed to shift once a month. It’s not enough, Hale. Our wolves need more than that.’

Wanted more. Not needed. But that didn’t make it any easier or more comfortable.

More. Need, Fang said, disagreeing with him.

Hale ignored his wolf. Fang had already made his opinion well-known over the last seven years. Theoretically, a Shifter never needed to turn into their wolf form except over the full moon. That pull was nearly impossible to stop, which was the main reason they had the one day they did. That part was more efficient than sending the wolves home or to Glasgow every month.

‘We’ve made do for this long,’ Hale said, trying not to show any of his own frustration. As the alpha, he had less luxury than most to show those feelings. ‘We’ll make do for another year.’

‘That’s bullshit. Nowhere else in the UK are Shifters forced to drive over four hours to another pack’s territory so they can shift outside a full moon. Not to mention the need to ask permission every single time,’ Shane said, looking back at Hale, eyes flashing to the yellow of his wolf, but he turned away, hiding them. ‘It’s not right.’

‘The decision has been made,’ Hale said, voice firmer as a trickle of his power slipped out at the challenge.

Shane stiffened. ‘You should have fought harder,’ he said, not turning around this time.

‘You weren’t there for the conversation, so don’t assume I didn’t fight for us,’ Hale said. Because he had, and the prime alphas hadn’t been interested in listening. But he couldn’t say that. That truth wouldn’t help the pack because suffering was the point.

The prime alphas wanted a place where they could send wolves who misbehaved, and because the Highland Rift Scar was in the middle of nowhere, it had become that place. Wolves would spend six months to a year here, then they’d go home, back to their family pack, knowing that if they didn’t behave, they’d be sent north again.

Because this pack was never anything more than a job and a punishment.

Hale couldn’t tell Shane the real reason because the prime alphas didn’t want to tell anyone they deliberately kept the Highland Pack in this state. That way, the wolves blamed Hale, and when they went home, the prime alphas looked like the better option. It would be another reason for them never to risk getting sent north again.

Hale had been fighting for years for a better option.

‘We can’t keep this up forever,’ Shane said, but he turned away and headed in the direction they’d been going.

Hale wanted to keep arguing, but there wasn’t anything he could tell Shane that he hadn’t already said.

Stop, Fang said, focus sharpening on the skull fragments as they reached the bottom of the hill. His wolf had seen something Hale had missed.

Hale looked at the ground. There were tiny marks in the dust around the fragments. He drew in a breath, searching for the scent of anything out of place, but there was only the overall rot of the Rift Scar. It was hard to follow trails in his human form here. Everything smelled similar until you were on top of it.

‘Hale?’ [A1.1]When Hale didn’t respond, Shane’s hands tightened on his gun as he scanned the area.

‘Scorpion,’ Hale said, following the line in the dirt. Although they were the most common creature in the Rift Scar, they were only the size of a Yorkie and had a stinger containing Rift venom. Unfortunately, they usually made up for their size by running in groups of twenty or more.

So much for a quiet patrol.

***

Sam turned her old Jeep onto a little used dirt track off the main road. The ground was rough and deeply rutted, but it would take her to the Highland Rift Scar’s northeast border and her last stop of the day.

Trees climbed up either side of her, mostly old pines with thick and expansive roots that poked out the track, making the conditions worse. But at least she was finally under some shade, and maybe her poor car’s air-con might be able to compete with the heatwave. She was doubtful. It was already mid-afternoon, and the heat was only rising.

Sam hit a rut so deep that the steering wheel nearly jerked out of her grip. There was no sound of crunching metal, thankfully. The Jeep had fared well over the last six months, and so far, nothing had broken. With the way the Rift Scar’s dust ate away at machines, there was always a chance the next thump would crack something major.

She’d been asking the local council to lay a proper road or improve this one for years. Unfortunately, since she was pretty much the only one who used it, the council didn’t want to cough up the hazard pay for the repair crew or a rift ranger to protect them. Not that either was really needed. Sam hadn’t seen a Rift creature, or anything remotely dangerous, in the five years she’d been working as a rift surveyor.

In the council’s defence, having a rift ranger as an escort was law, and they weren’t exactly cheap. They were already paying for Sam to have one every time she went to take soil samples and environmental readings at the Scar’s edge. It was a bill she was glad she wasn’t paying.

‘You need to get better seats,’ Lacey, today’s personal ranger escort, said, grunting as they hit another rut. She was a lean Shifter with a runner’s build, light brown hair, and a heart-shaped face. She wore her Kevlar vest over a thin, short-sleeved T-shirt and Kevlar-lined jeans tucked into heavy combat boots. Both were pale grey, designed to blend into the Rift Scar.

Lacey hadn’t turned away from the trees that lined either side of the road as she’d spoken. ‘Or you need more driving lessons,’ she added as they hit yet another rut. She kept one hand on her rifle to stop it from bouncing around.

Sam gave Lacey a quick smile, hiding her own wince. That last one had hurt Sam as well, but she wouldn’t admit that. Upgrading the Jeep wasn’t an option, and she doubted it would help. The road was just that bad.

‘Sorry. Maybe you or Hale would have better luck convincing the mayor to fix the road than me?’ Sam said, scraping the side of the Jeep on the undergrowth as she avoided a pothole big enough to lose a wheel. The dry weather had cracked it wide open, and the next time it rained, it was going to be a problem. Maybe she should just fill them in herself?

‘More chance of convincing the mayor to fix the weather,’ Lacey said, patting her head. Her normally well-controlled, short brown hair had frizzed out like a bush in the dry heat.

‘No chance of that before the weather warden returns from the hospital with her mum,’ Sam said. The local Storm Elemental had been out of town for almost a week, and the weather had gone to pot without her. Again, the council was too cheap to do anything about it.

Before the Rifts had opened, Scotland had been a rainy, windy, and cold place to live, with summer temperatures rarely exceeding twenty-five degrees. After the Rifts had opened, they had destroyed weather patterns worldwide, causing hurricanes, droughts, and floods. Scotland had gone from cold and wet to a scorching hot forty degrees, then to below zero and back with no way for anyone to predict it.

The Storm Elementals quickly became the only way to stabilise the weather. They moved the rain clouds to where they were needed and calmed the storms before hurricanes ripped apart whole towns. The country had hoped that time would fix the damage, but it never got better. Eventually, the government had no choice but to create a permanent job for a weather warden within the various councils. Not that everyone had been happy about it, mainly because they blamed the Elementals for the weather problems in the first place.

‘I don’t think it’s likely to be soon. Her mum’s diagnosis isn’t good,’ Lacey said, wiping the sweat from her forehead. ‘If the council doesn’t do something, we could be in for an interesting summer.’

‘Maybe the mayor will finally succumb to pressure and advertise a second weather warden position?’ Sam said.

‘Why not just wish for the Rift Scars to heal themselves?’ Lacey said, snorting as Sam pulled into the small clearing at the end of the road and parked under the shade of some trees.

Sam forced a smile. It was a new saying people had started using in the last year or so, but she wasn’t a fan. In her opinion, wishing for something that wasn’t possible but everyone desperately wanted was no longer funny.

‘This is the last one, right?’ Lacey asked as she unhooked her seat belt and looked around the area intently, pulling her rifle closer.

Sam followed her gaze, though she doubted she’d spot anything. They were still another half mile away from the Rift Scar border, but the trees thinned after this section, and the dust got thicker. Unless she particularly needed to drive closer, keeping the car at a distance would help minimise the damage. As it was, she was going through about a car a year.

‘Yep,’ Sam said. She’d already double-checked her phone at the last stop. The new company app worked offline, which was just as well since the signal near the Rift Scar was spotty at best. Though with the local tower down, it was non-existent right now.

‘Nice! An early finish for us then,’ Lacey said, smiling at Sam.

‘Unless some bright spark loses the data again,’ Sam said. That had happened last month. Some intern had incinerated the wrong samples and overwritten a bunch of reports. No one was quite sure how. Sam had needed to spend a week doing double the work to catch up.

‘If they do, they will have to wait until Monday. There’s no way you’re getting another guard until Monday with over half the rangers out for the full moon,’ Lacey said, giving Sam a quick once-over. ‘You all set?’

Sam nodded and tugged at the armour to show she still had it on. Even though this was their fifth stop today, Lacey always checked. The armour was too big and uncomfortable, especially in this heat. But in the unlikely event that one of the Rift creatures attacked, she’d have some protection.

For maybe thirty seconds. If she was lucky.

But it was protocol to wear it, regardless. One that the rift warden insisted she followed before she was allowed near the Rift Scar. Sam had also suggested she’d be safer if she could carry her own gun, but since they classed her as a civilian, she’d lost that argument.

Lacey huffed a breath as she shoved the door open and got out. All the cool air the air-con had created was lost as the heat rushed in. ‘I’ll be right back. Cross your fingers for nothing but dust and trees.’ Lacey would do a quick circuit of the area before they’d move to where Sam would collect the samples.

Sam shivered despite the heat as the door slammed shut. Lacey’s words were light-hearted, but they were a visceral reminder that there was real danger in being out here.

Lacey disappeared into the trees, striding fast, her rifle ready. Sam more than appreciated it. The last thing she wanted was to find herself face to face with a Rift scorpion or worse.

Even if she wasn’t as vulnerable as Lacey thought.

***

Hale walked around the track marks, trying to find the direction they were headed. It wasn’t easy; the trail was faint, and with the ground so dusty, one strong breeze could erase it altogether.

‘It’s just bounce marks from the skull fragments,’ Shane said, looking at the ground. Tracking wasn’t a skill he’d picked up.

Hale shook his head. ‘No. It’s definitely tracks.’

‘I’ve seen scorpion tracks before; they are usually several feet wide,’ Shane said, frowning like he still didn’t believe Hale.

We alpha, should trust us, Fang said with a little snarl.

He’s frustrated; give him some space, Hale said, though he agreed with Fang, especially considering they were out in the field. Shane doubting Hale was only going to make working together harder.

Hale took a breath, not letting his frustration show; there was no point in starting another argument. ‘It’s just one set of tracks. One scorpion.’

‘Are you sure it’s a scorpion, then?’ Shane said, looking at the ground again. ‘They don’t generally travel on their own?’

‘Yes,’ Hale said, standing. Shane was right, but nothing else in the Rift left tracks like that.

‘Which way is it headed?’

‘East, towards the border,’ Hale said, wishing he’d kept a ranger in wolf form with him to track it properly. He’d learned a lot in seven years, but visually tracking in these conditions wasn’t easy.

‘One lone scorpion near the border seems unlikely,’ Shane sneered.

Hale shook his head, ignoring Shane’s tone. Likely or not, that was what he was seeing. ‘Unlikely doesn’t mean it’s not headed towards the rest of its group or out of the Scar.’

The creatures may not have been able to leave the Rift Scar for long without getting sick and dying, but it was long enough to kill people and do damage.

‘You’re—’

‘Enough,’ Hale snapped, his wolf energy slipping out at the word.

Shane’s jaw tightened, and his grip on his gun shifted, but he stopped arguing. Hale wanted to curse. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. His wolf was strong, and he hated using the weight of it to stop an argument. It wouldn’t help deal with Shane’s issues either; no one liked it when their alpha threw their weight around.

Shane need put in place. Should not challenge us, Fang said.

Hale didn’t bother answering his wolf this time. It was another argument he wouldn’t win.

‘Whether you believe in my tracking ability or not, something left these tracks. This close to the border, we need to deal with whatever it is before it sets up a nest,’ Hale said, struggling to pull back his anger.

Shane gave a sharp nod, not looking at Hale. But the stink of his anger made it over the rot of the Rift Scar.

Hale focused on the scorpion’s trail. It was still travelling solo, heading northeast. They followed it for half a mile in silence, but there was still no sign of any other scorpions. He didn’t like not knowing what it was doing or why.

The need to reach out to the other half of his patrol grew the longer they followed the trail. Unfortunately, there were few ways to communicate in the Rift Scar. Something about the place interfered with short-wave frequencies, so they usually relied on the mobile network, at least when it worked.

The mobile towers near the Highland Rift Scar were currently down, and the company that had put them in was fighting with the local council about who should pay for the repair. The Rift Scar dust tended to eat away at electronics and damage them far more quickly than normal. Hale wasn’t expecting them to find a solution for a few more months if past experience was anything to go on. They carried flares for emergencies. But something that didn’t make sense didn’t exactly warrant a flare to gather everyone together.

Check safe? Fang said, pushing him to check on their pack. Use pack bonds.

Opening himself up to the pack bonds would only show the emotions of the wolves within his pack. He’d be able to feel if they were afraid, but not why. There also weren’t any specific thoughts exchanged, so it was impossible to use the link to communicate or for Hale to send specific warnings. But his wolf was right. At least he’d know his people were safe.

Letting the connection to his pack open was always the easy part. Almost as soon as he made the decision, the links rose around him like he was at the centre of a spider’s web, with dozens of threads spinning away from him. Most of his pack had a second, much stronger, connection back to their family packs, and it made Hale’s threads hazy.

No other alpha had to endure this halfway house connection, but since the rest of the UK’s packs often sent their wolves north for a limited time, Hale’s link to them was always temporary. None of the alphas wanted to let go of their hold when their wolves would be back in a year or less. It was the other reason he rarely opened up the pack bonds. It was always frustrating.

Our pack, Fang said. Keep.

You know we can’t, Hale said, though only one Shifter was due to leave soon. It was a fight that happened every time one of them left at the end of their year term. His wolf huffed and chose to ignore Hale. Some instincts went deeper than others, and this one had always been a problem for his wolf.

Taking a breath, Hale focused on the closest threads, trying to sense their emotions. Shane pulsed loud and clear, his residual frustration a bright spark. There was a tinge of surprise when Shane sensed the connection open, but Hale ignored it and pushed past him, searching for the others.

Three of his pack were out on patrol further north. A mix of boredom and focus came at him from their direction, which was a good sign that everything was well. He carefully closed down the connection once he was sure his wolves were fine. If it had been Elementals on patrol, he wouldn’t have been able to check on them, but everyone in this group was a Shifter.

‘Is the pack okay?’ Shane asked, voice tight.

Hale glanced back at Shane. His eyes were the yellow of his wolf, but he wasn’t looking at Hale. Shane would have sensed the link open, but he’d only have been able to sense Hale, not the rest of the pack.

‘Everything is fine,’ Hale said. ‘I just wanted to be sure nothing had gone wrong with the other patrol.’

If kept link open, would always know, Fang said, letting out a huff of air again.

Except leaving the connection open like that was harder to manage. But it wasn’t worth arguing with his wolf about it, so he didn’t bother replying.

They barely made it more than a few feet when the wind shifted, bringing a familiar stink of death to his nose.

Shane stiffened, finally giving Hale a direct look as he caught the scent. First scorpions, and now this. At least there was no longer any doubt from Shane that they’d been following a trail.

Without a word, Hale started forward, raising his rifle to his shoulder. Shane did the same, falling in behind and slightly to his left.