Melissa Barker-Simpson

The third installment of the Collective Series, Warrior’s Promise will be released in July, and given that a new character will be introduced, a character I know will play a big part in coming tales, I thought I would write a short story to introduce Harper-Rose properly. I’ve split the short works into three parts.

Part 2

Harper-Rose 

On the Run 

Harper-Rose tried to follow the subtle prompt towards consciousness, the gentle prod, prod, prod against her cheek, but she was just too tired. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, couldn’t remember much of anything except being cold and hungry and alone. 

At least until Hera found her. 

The last thing she did recall before the numbness of her existence began was the thing that haunted her dreams. Of waking beneath the rubble, unable to move or breathe, and surrounded by death. 

In truth, she didn’t even know how old she was, though based on others her size she would guess at seven or eight. 

Harper-Rose knew she’d lost her parents, though the details were hazy. She had been placed in a home, but that experience, too, was fuzzy at best, because she had slipped into a kind of suspended animation.  

She had walked the halls of that place like a droid on autopilot, never connecting or forging bonds. It was probably why she hadn’t been adopted like some of the other kids. 

All in all, it was a pretty dark time, though she had been clothed and fed and she was always warm. 

Then the world had imploded, hers literally. The home had been the focal point of an attack. Who or what had set to destroy the place she wasn’t sure. She knew only that her environment was full of monsters. Not the kind who used a little too much force when she failed to comply with instructions. No, these weren’t even the creatures from storybooks. They were terrifying; grotesque, vicious beasts with the power to destroy whole towns. 

Prod, prod, prod. 

Harper-Rose tried again to surface, to heed what her companion was trying to communicate. It was time to move. 

To run. Again. 

She was tired of running. The world had become a dark, confusing place she didn’t know how to navigate. 

Prod, prod, prod. 

Hera’s sense of urgency increased. The last nudge against her cheek was followed by a low growl which seemed to say ‘Harper, please, wake up.’ 

Responding to the fear and panic, that permeated her very bones, Harper-Rose pushed open her eyes and blinked until Hera came into focus. 

The animal’s green gaze shone with relief, which made her stomach hurt. She hated to disappoint Hera, but she wasn’t sure if she could even stand. 

They hadn’t eaten in days. Before that, Harper-Rose had managed to survive on whatever scraps she could find, always sticking to the shadows and avoiding the obvious places to forage. 

To begin with, when she had crawled out from beneath the rubble that had once been a children’s home, the fog in her brain had almost sent her into the path of nearby raiders. They had been lining people up like cattle, regardless of their injuries or ability to stand. 

Harper-Rose had managed to evade capture, more than once. The second time had been when searching for food in an abandoned house. 

She hadn’t made the same mistake twice, though she was tempted when her stomach hurt so much food was all she could think about. 

Then she’d met Hera. She didn’t know the dog’s actual name, but she had known things about the animal she didn’t even question. 

Like the fact she wasn’t really a dog at all. There was a warrior trapped inside her sleek frame. She might look like a German Shepherd, but there was so much more to her than that. 

How Harper-Rose knew that she wasn’t sure. She kind of felt things about people and objects, which was probably why she was still alive and evading the creatures who patrolled the streets to collect humans like trophies. 

As soon as she’d met the green-eyed canine, Harper-Rose had seen the strong, beautiful female that she was in any form and had named her Hera. 

Now, Hera, fur dirty and slim frame hollow from lack of nourishment was demonstrating the warrior within by anticipating exactly what she needed and flattening her body to the ground. 

Understanding, Harper-Rose crawled forward. It was a slow process when the room kept spinning and her body revolted, but eventually, she managed to climb onto Hera’s back. 

Though her eyes wanted to close, she kept them open, so she saw it was still dark outside. They had taken a rest in an abandoned building, indistinguishable from all the rest in a long line of gaping ruined structures. 

Hera opted to use the shadows to hide them from sight. She had a knack for knowing which were unoccupied. They both knew what lay waiting in the dark, but had managed to avoid the truly nasty. 

The frantic beating of Hera’s heart should have strengthened her resolve to stay awake, to be an extra pair of eyes, but it had the opposite effect. For the first time in a while, she was warm, and though she could feel Hera’s spine pressing into her own bony frame, the motion was dragging her back under. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, a second before she lost the fight and the darkness closed in around her. 

__________

The third and final part will be published next week.

Thank you for stopping by.

Mel