Page 1 of The Blind Hordesman

Chapter 1

Seer

My favorite kill is a Regha Alpha. Second favorite doesn’t exist since none other than a Regha Alpha offers a fair fight. Unless, of course, I’m alone and dealing with a Swarm group of at least fifty, preferably seventy, and, on a bad day, when I’m in my beast mode, one hundred.

Today, I’m in beast mode. There’s no fucking Swarm, no Alphas, nobody to kill, and since the humans and I have ridden in this rodeo many times during the occupation of Earth, the humans know to clear out the cities and towns the moment they get news the Warlords are coming.

In Canada, right past the US border, the wind carries snowflakes up my nostrils, and I’m fucking moody as hell because empty snow-covered landscapes greet me. The imposter keeps moving, always one step ahead of me, and as the search for him drags on and on, I’m positively murderous.

I sense no enemy.

I sense no people or Swarm.

Only dogs and cats. I can’t even eat them things.

My ear twitches, and I lift my nose, sniff, raise an arm.

The Warlords stop as one.

They breathe steadily in a well-practiced uniform pattern, as uniform as Alpha male breathing can be. A rattle is like a thumbprint in human terms, so all Alphas rattle differently. In my ranks, the Warlords adjust their rattles so that they sound the same. This way, I can hear the difference between my males and the enemy as I slaughter people on the field. The rattled breaths they emit are an art, and my males are my canvas. I paint them whatever I need them to be.

Since we’re all synchronized and practically silent in the way we breathe, it’s easy for me to hear other noises. About a half mile away, I pick up human chatter. Girls. They’re worried about their livestock. Oh hey, livestock. My males and I haven’t eaten in days, and the hounds haven’t had a meal since the last Swarm unit crossed our path a few weeks ago. From a distance, I hear a girl’s voice.

“It’s too cold for the chicklets,” she says.

“Oh, hey, chicken,” I announce.

My second-in-command nudges me. “Hm?”

“Chicken.” I point in the direction of the girl’s voice. “Over there, somewhere.”

“You hungry?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“I want to keep moving.”

“Great. Move toward the chicken.”

“Over the hill, then,” he says and whistles low.

Against the snow that has accumulated up to my balls, I trudge toward the voices, estimating the distance to the structures by how the sound of our collective breathing bounces off whatever is obstructing the open space. My second-in-command as well as several of my closest Alphas spread out. I hear them breathe and move in the snow, so I can tell where my males are and hear how their noises reflect off what’s in front of them. I paint images in my head. It’s free drawing, whatever my mind conjures up.

Meanwhile, I keep my ear on the girls.

“They’re here. Hide, hide,” one of them says.

I roll my eyes. We have hounds. Do they not know we have hounds with excellent senses?

My males surround several houses, though by the smell of it, some of these structures are barns, likely wooden ones judging by the sounds the girls’ steps make over the floors. They’re trying to be quiet, I’m sure, but I hear them as one would hear elephants running circles in their backyard.

Another whistle, this one sounding like an ofoya, a bird on Regha. It tells me the males surrounded the house or barn, whatever I’m about to walk into. Armor, though heavy, clings to me like a second skin and makes more noise than necessary. I am not Horde. I do not practice stealth or subtlety. I announce my arrival from miles away. This way, the enemy can be best prepared for their worst fears.

My boots step on frozen ground. I conclude this part of the property has been cleared of snow. As I move on, the clicking sound of my armor echoes off a structure not two feet from me. Next to my right leg, my hound, Ayo, lifts his hackles, preparing for battle and a fresh meal. Extending an arm in the general direction of a doorknob, I feel around and find it, then open the door. Holen, another bird from Regha, whistles outside, telling me my males have entered the other structures on the property. They’ll raid for food while I check out the live ones in here.

“Moooooo,” pierces the silence.

Ayo’s head snaps up. Before he takes off, I grab the back of his neck and kneel. “Did you hear that, boy?” He growls a warning, pissed I’m holding him back. Outside, other hounds are already on the move, heading toward the sound. “The Alpha eats first,” I remind him. “They will wait for you, or you’re no Alpha, and you’ll need to eat though your ranks. Stay,” I order him. I don’t really need him, but I’m an asshole like that. If I can’t eat until I find the humans hiding here, he can’t either. Besides, I’m moody all around, just looking for a fight.

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