Excerpt: The Vanguard Saga, Book I - They Came

Monday, March 31, 2009 – 7:00 PM
The sun was setting for what seemed the first time since this had all begun. They had arrived a few weeks ago and had made it quite clear what their intentions were. They were here for conquest, they were here for our resources, and they were definitely not here for peace. A few had stood up to them but they had all fallen before they made it very far. Michael was one that had stood up to them, but he was spared, but why? Was it so he could be made an example, or was it just so that others would know better than to try?
Michael sat in his small little hut, all that was afforded to him as a rebel, and watched the sun set on the horizon. He had been ostracized, had become an outcast, among his own people. When he did set foot out of his hut, others would avoid him, crossing to the other side of the street, or even ducking into nearby buildings. He felt alone in the city; felt that everyone else had been taken.
There was one though that talked to him. His name was a mystery, Michael only knew him as Shadow. He came by Michaels hut each night with more and more news of a growing resistance in the mountains. Michael would pass on any information he knew about the invaders, but it was becoming harder and harder to come by this information. Each night, Shadow would come, gather the information, and then leave again. Each night Michael would beg to be taken to the mountains, but each night Shadow would only refuse and leave.
Michael knew that once the sun was set, Shadow would arrive for the little bit of information that he had managed to garner that day. Michael reached into a pocket on the shirt he was wearing and pulled out a small scrap of paper that he had jotted notes down on through the day. Being an outcast did have its advantages, no one ever paid much attention to what you were doing, so you could get away with virtually anything. Lost in his own reveling, Michael didn’t notice the sun sink below the horizon, or the soft tapping at the door that signaled the arrival of Shadow.
After the first tap was not answered, Shadow tapped again slightly harder than before. Michael jumped in his seat and hurried himself over to the door. He opened it to reveal a gaunt, shadowy figure standing in the doorway. As the figure stepped into the small hut, the light from a candle showed his scarred and weathered face. Over one eye he wore a black patch like a pirate and a long scar adorned the other eye, top and bottom. Shadow reached for the door and shut it swiftly behind him. “Have you got the information?”
Michael was used to the abruptness of Shadow. He handed the scrap of paper he had been looking at to Shadow, “Here is it. All I could get today.” Shadow looked over the scrap of paper and then stuffed it into a pocket of the jeans he was wearing. “Very good, I will return the same time tomorrow.” Just as every other night, Shadow turned to leave, and just the same, Michael begged to go with him, but this night was different, this night, Shadow stopped and looked at Michael.