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“They’re just trying to intimidate us,” I spit back. “And you.” I point. “You are caving to it. Coward.”
He stands, pushing back his chair, leaning on fists toward me. “What did you fucking call me?”
I stand as well, going nose to nose with my older brother who I can’t imagine is genetically related to me. “C.O.W.A.R.D. Can you piece that together?”
My grandfather’s face drops to his hands, shoulders sagging. I hate leaving his wonderful meals untouched, but goddamn it, this dining room table is more a battleground than a place to eat.
Levi shakes his head, glaring at me. “We’ll lose everything because of you. You’re so smart, you had three years of pre-law and business whatever? Little smarty savant, graduating early, valedictorian, what good is that doing you now in this world? You think whenhedies you and me are just going to hold hands and run this place together? I’ll sell my share to the highest bidder before they shut the casket.”
Rage clouds my vision as I look to see the pain in my grandfather’s eyes.
“You are not even human!” I seethe at Levi, then look to my grandpa. “I won’t let it happen. I’ll die on the docks before I let him sell.”
“Enough!” My grandfather bursts, slapping a hand on the table making me jump but my appetite is shot and yet another meal is going to go to waste.
I’ve worked here since I was six years old. Our parents worked alongside grandpa until three years ago when there was an explosion while they were repairing a big fishing boat’s engine. Fumes built up, there was a spark and…they went down with the ship, so to speak.
It wasn’t a month later the first orc ships arrived. The irony of that curled in my gut like a viper. Since then, even when the sun shines, there’s still always clouds.
The initial wars between orcs and humans have calmed. The old ‘camps’ where the government tried to contain them long since burned to the ground. There was always myths and legends about the small orc population on a cold Nordic island that suddenly and completely disappeared three centuries ago.
When they returned, they’d spend that time in hell. Used, enslaved and tortured by an alien race hoping to clone and use them for the work they could no longer do. Only, even in the darkest of species, there is always light. A growing dissent among the Moban grew and eventually, with the orcs help, the Moban revolutionaries overthrew the leaders then sent the orcs in ships back home.
Well, to Earth but probably not what they imagined when they remembered home.
I storm out the back door of the century-old house. The white paint needs touching up. The porch boards are cracked and the cement walkway is in shambles, but it’s home. And if my brother, or anyone, thinks they can take this from us, they’re going to have to go through me first.
As I walk toward the marina and breathe, there’s a hint of that perfect fall scent on the air. Every third slip at the has a boat, some abandoned, some still paying what they can. Our place is on Lake Frederick. Our property surrounds the lake for six hundred acres. Six hundred acres people have been trying to take from our family for three generations.
But, we’re still here, and it’s still ours. That’s not going to change on my watch. There’s a tributary on the far side of the lake that leads into the Pierce River which is still one of the main water transport rivers in the state. Anyone gaining control of our place, would have access to controlling a lot of the commerce going up and down the river. In this new world, that’s real power and something I know, orc and human alike would kill to have.
I let out a deep breath and come around the side of the harbor master’s shed just as the bell at the gas dock rings. I cock my head to the side, there’s a large speedboat tying off. Even from here, I can see it’s an orc-sized boat. The hairs on my neck prickle, there’s not much need for fancy speed boats with orcs at the wheel around here. They are not known for their love of watersports, but it’s not out of the question either to have outsiders drift in for gas.
“Help you?” I ask, sizing up the two orc occupants. They’re wearing long, orc sized Henley-style shirts. One in black jeans the other in khakis. It’s still hard for me to digest the what are called the ‘progressives’. Orc’s that have adopted more of a human style and culture. The mixture of an orc body in human clothing still makes my brain short circuit. But, if they’ve got that boat, they’ve got to have money and that’s something in short supply around here.
“Gas up.” The one in the gray shirt grunts while the other one steps onto the dock, the boards creaking under his weight as he pulls a line to a cleat next to the gas pump.
“Cash? We only take cash.” I say, noting the way the one of the dock keeps his eyes on me, while the other one keeps glancing toward the house.
“Yes. Cash.” The one standing next to the pump answers, his red eyes on me and the muscles down my back tighten.
I swallow and extend my hand toward the gas pump which he’s blocking. He’s usual orc height, I’d say a little over seven feet, the other one still in the boat about the same.
“Cut the engine,” I say, tugging the handle for the pump and stepping toward the rear of the boat to access the gas cap.
“No cut engine.” The one in the boat answers, jaw hard as he looks at his partner and my Spidey-senses prickle.
“No cut engine, no gas.” I step back, one fist on my hip, the other gripping the handle, ready to spray their uncooperative asses with unleaded.
The one behind me laughs. Orc laughter is so odd. It’s a choking, grunting harsh sound, not one that makes you want to join in.
“Vlakengath,” I hear him say and I have no idea what that means but something about his tone turns me cold.
“Listen,” I start, ready to lay down the law the way I’ve had to do with assholes so many times in my life. I sigh, trying to hold my temper as I lock eyes with the one in the boat. “It’s cut the—"
The slap of a palm covers my mouth and most of my face.
There’s no time to scream. I’m pulled away as I squeeze the nozzle and go full on honey badger on this asshole.
