Chapter 23:

Chapter Twenty Three

Skinwalkers: Distant Thunder


AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you get tired of waiting for new chapters, the entire book is for sale on Amazon in print and on Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Skinwalkers-Distant-Thunder-Adam-Bolander-ebook/dp/B0D128VD9V?crid=24W41CTHT7EDC&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.KfDW2-M5NGa2qL0wxty7rQc5lxHh_f-10YwlqipBh4g.UFzNpMAr6R_3JpGzb6Wjyoivt59NgZ3InddvCwBhnOI&dib_tag=se&keywords=skinwalkers+distant+thunder&qid=1730566075&sprefix=skinwalkers+distant+thunder%2Caps%2C135&sr=8-1

Chapter Twenty Three

Lightning flashed and thunder shook the air, as if the heavens themselves were applauding the egg’s hatching. Another crack splintered off from the first, and then another. Glenn watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as a beak the size of his fist punched through the violet shell. Immediately, wisps of cloud began to leak from inside it like smoke. Tiny sparks flashed within them, each one accompanied by a sharp pop that even a firecracker could put to shame.

So, this is how a force of nature is born, he thought in wonder.

Up above him, the thunderbird finally seemed to notice what was going on. It leaped down from its perch, landing hard enough to shake the ground, and made its way over to the egg. It stumbled once, and for a second Glenn thought it would fall over and crush its only remaining offspring. Instead, it teetered drunkenly for a second, and then righted itself.

The Skeptic’s Stone’s job was almost finished. Glenn’s knowledge of it was limited, but he couldn’t imagine the thunderbird had more than a few hours, perhaps only a few minutes, left to live.

It reached the egg and bent over, pressing the side of its face against the crumbling shell in an almost tender way. A sound unlike any he’d heard it make before came from its throat. Like purring, but on such a massive scale that it vibrated the air around it. The egg shook a couple more times, and the beak retreated inside, only to burst free in another spot close to the first hole. The still-unborn chick gave a feeble peep.

Derrick… Glenn thought, memories of his son rising unbidden, and unwelcome, to his mind. He could still clearly remember the night Doretta had pushed him into this cold and unforgiving world. God, did Doretta even know what had happened to their son? She had been gone for so long. What if she came back to the nest, only to find it abandoned, the remains of their three youngest members buried nearby?

Still cooing reassuringly, the thunderbird helped pick free a piece of shell the chick was having trouble shaking off.

Oh, God, Derrick! Glenn could still hear his mewling cries, neither human nor beast. The downy softness of his newborn fuzz. How the two of them had licked and rubbed all over his tiny, fragile body to make sure his blood was flowing, and then clasped hands as he snuggled against his mother’s warm belly and went to sleep.

That, in its own way, was what the thunderbird was about to experience. And, by escaping this nest, it was what Glenn intended to rob from it.

As if realizing this itself, the thunderbird turned its eye on him.

“Shit!” he hissed. No more time. He turned and sprinted toward the edge of the nest.

Behind him, the thunderbird spread its wings, and lightning forked across the sky. It cried in challenge, its voice mingling with the thunder, then took to the air. It faltered at first, its wings weak, but it quickly righted itself and rose into the sky like the majestic predator that it was.

Glenn reached the far wall of the nest. Just as he’d hoped, the gaps between the uprooted trees were just big enough for him to squeeze into. In the space of a few seconds, the light faded from dim to pitch black, as if he were inside a cave. He kept going, knowing that he wouldn’t be safe until he was far enough in that the thunderbird couldn’t reach in with its talons and yank him back out.

The nest shook as the colossal bird landed nearby. Glenn froze. The shadows outside were shifting as it moved back and forth, peering between the trees. Maybe if he was very still, it would think he had—

It thrust a talon into the wall. Lean but strong, it parted the trees like twigs, ebony claws grasping blindly for its prey.

Glenn bit his tongue, having been closer to crying out in terror than he would ever admit.

The talon withdrew, and Glenn dared to inch his way a little farther in. Unless it was willing to tear its entire nest apart, the thunderbird was going to have a hard time finding him. Of course, with its life force swiftly fading, and its chick hatching a dozen meters away, he couldn’t be sure that it wouldn’t resort to tearing its nest to shreds. It would leave the newborn thunderbird without shelter, but what was shelter to the living embodiment of a storm?

The talon came again, this time much closer to him. Glenn ducked, and the gargantuan limb passed by barely five feet overhead. It groped for him, knocking entire trees aside in its search. Those trees crashed down all around him. To him, the sound was nearly deafening. To the thunderbird, it may as well have been a shower of matchsticks.

It withdrew its talon a second time, and despair touched Glenn’s heart. This had been his one chance at escape, but it was clear the thunderbird wouldn’t stop until it had him back in its clutches—and then inside its clutch. No, he couldn’t let it end here! Not when his son was still unavenged, his killers still free! There had to be something he could do!

Suddenly, the thunderbird’s head snapped to the side as if it had heard something. Before Glenn could ponder what had caught its attention, it opened its wings and took to the sky again. Each beat of its wings sent out a powerful gust of wind, but Glenn barely noticed. It was leaving. The thunderbird was, against all logic and reason, flying away! Hope exploded in his chest. Whatever had happened, be it easier prey or some perceived threat, the thunderbird had given him all the opportunity he needed to…

The final gust of wind dislodged one of the trees, causing it to wobble, and then come crashing down.

Right on top of Glenn.

NEXT CHAPTER: 4/16/2025