by Tammy Walsh
“At a guess?” Chax said. “Money. And fame. The usual reasons someone would want to hurt somebody else. There’s nothing we can give them that the controllers of the show can’t. I’m afraid it’s us against them. Come on. We have to move.”
We hustled down the other side of the embankment and made a beeline for the barn. We paused at the flimsy handmade fences and ducked between the two horizontal bars.
I checked the farm field was empty before jogging across it. We reached the barn’s rear and slowed to a stop. I bent over, bracing myself on my knees to recover from our run.
The barn was in worse shape than I thought. The paint did a poor job of concealing the damage it’d received recently.
“Looks like fire,” I said.
“Looks like,” Chax said.
His attention was focused on the surrounding area. He was constantly on the lookout for an attack. He wouldn’t relax until we were got somewhere safe.
Then I noticed something else strange about the barn.
Something that shouldn’t have been there.
I fingered a series of holes in the wood panels. They formed a dotted streak from one end to the other.
“Bullet holes,” I said. “Are we in a warzone?”
The place didn’t look like the site of a battle. At least, not one that’d taken place recently enough to have caused this damage.
Then where had it come from?
The answer hit me like a sledge to the gut.
“We’re not the first ones to be subjected to this sick gameshow of theirs, are we?” I said. “There were others.”
“No,” Chax said. “This place represents a considerable investment. They wouldn’t go to all this trouble just for us. They lower costs by reusing the same locations.”
“How can you be so calm?” I said. “Our lives are on the line and they’ll kill us the first chance they get!”
“Because we have no choice and getting crazy and upset won’t change anything. We need to be careful and think like they do.”
“Like they do?” I hissed. “How do they think? They want to kill us!”
“Then we have to do everything we can to stop them,” Chax said, giving me a peck on the lips. “Come on. I think it’s safe.”
He led us around the barn and into the open courtyard in front of the farmhouse.
I noticed movement out the corner of my eye and grabbed Chax’s arm. I motioned to a farmhouse’s upstairs window.
Staring down at us through the smashed glass was a little boy. His skin was green and his eyes bright yellow. A larger version of the boy—who had to be his father—pulled the boy back from the window and slid a torn red curtain across to block us from view.
My stomach fell between my feet. We were being hunted in a place where alien creatures still lived.
The situation didn’t feel right.
It didn’t feel right at all.
We were out in the open while the locals hid in their homes.
“Chax…” I said, the words seeping from between my lips. “I don’t think—”
“I know,” he said.
I know.
What did he know? Cos I sure as shit didn’t know anything.
“Well, well, well.”
A tall figure stepped from behind the farmhouse. It was a… a…
What the hell is that thing?
The creature stood seven feet tall and almost the same in width. The first word that came to mind was “barbarian.” And I thought Chax was a big cat! This guy stood head and shoulders over him. He carried a six-foot war hammer in one hand. The elaborate toggles on his armor clattered as he ambled toward us. It was only when he got close enough for me to make the toggles out individually that I noticed they weren’t toggles at all.
They were grenades.
He wore a gold ring through his nose and his two bottom canines were oversized and protruded like the tusks of a wild boar.
My insides turned to water.
“What do we have here?” the creature said.
He grinned at me. Saliva drooled from one corner of his mouth. It swung side to side before languishing on the muddy ground.
“My, my,” he said. “Well, aren’t you a tasty little treat.”
He was talking about me. I doubted I would be much more than a snack for this guy.
“I’m not sure the Changelings would be happy with you killing us so fast,” Chax said.
“They sent me here to track you down and that’s just what I’ve done,” he said. “If they wanted more of an interesting match, they shouldn’t have hired me to come find you.”
I picked up a stone and hurled it at the figure. It struck him between the eyes.
“We’re not afraid of you!” I said pathetically.
“Oh, but you should be,” the creature said. “The name’s Iron Hoof and I’m here to be your end. Prepare yourself. Hope is over now that Iron Hoof has come.”
He held the war hammer between both hands and pawed at the ground with a hoof, tearing up the moist soil and tossing it up behind him. He bolted forward and ran at us.
Chax grabbed me by the hand and led me back behind the barn. The ground shook and thundered beneath Iron Hoof’s heavy feet.
“What the hell is that thing?” I said.
“Our worst nightmare,” Chax said. “Come on!”
We came to a stop behind the barn.
“He’s big and heavy,” I said. “I think we can outrun him!”
“No, we can’t,” Chax said. “He’s bigger and stronger than us. And a hell of a lot faster. When he builds up speed, he’s unstoppable. The only way to survive is to injure him, slow him down, and stay out of his way. Keep close.”
Chax scooped up the pitchfork that leaned against the wall. I grabbed a digging fork. It was surprisingly light. Even I could handle it.
The ground shook as Iron Hoof drew closer.
Chax drew his pitchfork back and prepared to thrust it at the creature when it barreled around the corner. I gripped the fork as tightly as I could.
We’d have to be fast. We needed to strike and immediately dive out of the way. We might only get one chance. Once he was on us, there would be no escape.
For a moment, the heavy thunder of the creature’s hoof steps disappeared.
Had he gone in a different direction?
But no. The hoof steps hadn’t disappeared.
Their sound had only been blocked.
By what?
Farmyard animals in the barn crowed in surprise. It lasted only a split second. Just long enough for Chax to grab me by my suit and yank me aside, hurling me around the barn’s corner.
For a moment, I thought he was sacrificing me, using me as a distraction to get the creature’s attention.
CRASH!
The entire rear wall of the barn exploded as the creature came thundering through it. Shards of wood and debris rained from the sky as Chax, off-balance from shoving me to safety, was struck on the back by a thick length of timber.
Iron Hoof swung his mighty hammer around and caught Chax across the chest. The cracking sound of his ribs being pulverized to smithereens wrung a scream from my throat.
“Chax!” I bellowed. “No!”
Iron Hoof drew up to Chax and raised his war hammer above his head.
“I must be setting a new record with you,” he said, placing his foot on his chest. “I thank you for your sacrifice.”
Chax floundered, barely able to move his limbs, never mind coordinate them.
Iron Hoof tensed his muscles and brought the war hammer back and up in a huge arc.
He was going to crush Chax into the mud.
I had to do something.
I felt numb. I didn’t notice I still had the fork in my hands until I glanced down. I sprung to my feet and moved without thought of what I would do or how I would feel if I failed to carry it out.
I pulled the fork back with a single arm and hurled it at the giant creature.
It sailed
straight and true, the sharp spikes pointing outwards.
Iron Hoof was at the apex of his swing. A handful of seconds and Chax’s fate would be sealed.
The fork slammed into the creature’s upper thigh on his right leg.
He was shocked and hadn’t even noticed its approach. He bellowed a wail of pain and fell back, his hammer slipping from his hands and thudding heavily to the ground beside his head.
Damn! Just a few inches the other way and we would have been rid of the creature’s menace for good.
But it didn’t matter.
I wouldn’t survive out here without Chax to protect me.
I ran over and tapped him on the face.
“Get up!” I said. “Come on! We need to get moving!”
His eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Iron Hoof braced himself on his war hammer and attempted to stand. He yanked the fork from his thigh. It shuddered under his weight and he collapsed back down.
It was only a matter of time before he succeeded.
I slapped Chax across the face hard.
“Wake up!” I screamed at him. “Time to get up!”
His eyes flickered. He managed to blink, but little more.
“Arjath,” he muttered under his breath. “Arjath.”
“Arjath?” I said. “What’s that?”
He turned his head toward the barn. He would have pointed but he wasn’t capable of such a complex movement.
I wondered if he’d hit his head as well as had his chest crushed by the war hammer.
“Arjath?” I said. “I don’t know what that is!”
Farmyard animals wandered to and fro across the fields, taking their chance to bolt and make a run for it now they were free.
“Arjath,” a sweet voice said behind me.
It was the little green kid from the farmhouse window. He held a harness in his tiny hand and handed it to me. Attached to the other end was a big fluffy creature with hair that hung over its eyes. It was grey with age and its hair was matted. It might have been a handsome creature in its day but it looked worn-out and tired now. It had tall front legs and shorter back ones. It reminded me of a horse, but no horse had such a docile look about it.
“Thank you,” I said to the little green boy. “I need to get him into the saddle. How do I do that?”
The little boy just stared at me.
“Olun!”
His father came running from the farmhouse. He crouched before the little boy.
“Don’t you ever run from me!” he said. “Do you understand? Never!”
But he couldn’t stay mad at the cute little boy for long. He embraced him. Then he stood up to lead him away.
“Wait!” I said. “Please. My friend. He’s going to die unless I get him on the back of this… arjath.”
I still struggled with the foreign name of this beast.
The farmer considered helping. He shook his head and turned to leave.
“Please!” I said. “I’m begging you. He’s the only friend I have. If I don’t save him, we’re both dead.”
The farmer appraised us with his yellow eyes and looked over at the horned creature still struggling to his feet.
“Poppa…” Olun said. “We have to help them.”
Again, the farmer looked concerned. No doubt he would be taking a big risk by helping us. Not only with Iron Hoof nearby but the Changelings in charge of this TV show. They would be watching us.
“Get to the house,” he said to his son. “Now.”
As Olun took off, the farmer bent down to help me lift Chax onto the back of the arjath. Then he got some rope from the barn and lashed him to it.
“I’ll get the arjath back to you,” I said. “I promise.”
“No, you won’t,” the farmer said. “We won’t be here when you return.”
“Where will you go?” I said.
He lowered his voice.
“I must join the resistance,” he said. “I thought I could survive outside, even with the Changelings and their cruel games. But now I see it is impossible. I’ve rebuilt many times already. I can’t bring myself to do it again. I wish you well but I can help you no more.”
He turned and ran back to the farmhouse.
“Grrrr!” Iron Hoof growled as he forced himself up onto his hooved feet.
He wiped a hairy arm across his brow to dispel the sweat. His leg wobbled and threatened to give way beneath him again.
“You’re going to pay for that, little girl,” he said.
“You’ll have to catch me first,” I said, finding a thin tendril of confidence buried deep inside.
“Oh, I intend to,” Iron Hoof said.
He dug in his pocket for something and came out with a syringe. He removed the casing and jabbed it in his injured leg. His back arched and he let out a howl of intense pain. Then he straightened up. Although he still walked with a limp, he no longer appeared to feel the pain.
He clutched the war hammer in both hands, snorted at me, and then pawed at the ground with his uninjured leg.
My eyes widened with fear.
I knew what his pawing at the ground meant.
He was going to charge.
He would destroy everything in his path and I had no intention of being there when he did.
I hopped on the back of the arjath and prayed it was faster than it looked.
Chax grumbled under his breath beneath me. He was burning up and running a fever. Sweat broke across his entire body. It didn’t look good.
But it would look a whole lot worse if I couldn’t get us away from there.
The arjath struggled under our combined weight. I considered hopping off and leading by the harness but I already knew I couldn’t outrun this horned beast.
I held on and snapped the reins.
The arjath made a disgruntled “Meh!” noise and bolted forward.
The ground shook as Iron Hoof built up momentum. His haste was interrupted only by his limping leg.
The arjath, scared by the creature hot on our heels, ran a little faster. He leaned forward to counteract the extra weight he was carrying.
In the farmhouse window, the little green boy waved.
I focused on the path ahead and prayed the arjath wouldn’t trip or collapse out of exhaustion. Either one would spell death for the both of us.
I glanced back as Iron Hoof roared and tore through a flimsy fence. His limping leg didn’t pull up high enough and snagged on a piece of wood. He tripped and fell. He was up a moment later but he’d already lost his momentum.
Don’t stop now, little arjath, keep on going, I prayed. Just until we get far enough from the creature so he can’t see us.
I peered at Chax beneath me, rocking violently side to side and curled up in the arjath’s thick fur.
Sleep, my love. Sleep. Rest is coming.
But not for me.
I gritted my teeth against my sudden exhaustion and pushed through it.
We would live to fight another day.
Another day.
I only hoped it would be better than the last one.
Once we crossed the horizon and Iron Hoof was no longer in sight, I knew I should have slowed the arjath down. But then I began to fear the horned creature might try to sneak up behind us.
To be on the safe side, I decided to keep the creature running—until we got a little further ahead. Around the next bend, I thought. But the monsters could easily cut through the forest and come lurching out from the shadows.
We needed to keep moving.
Eventually, the arjath was what told me to slow down. Its breath rasped hoarsely in its throat and it struggled to put one foot in front of the other.
The poor thing was shot.
I let the creature trot slowly along the road. It seemed happier that way and moved at a lumbering pace.
Worse than that, Chax needed proper rest to recover. Bouncing around in an uncomfortable saddle wasn’t going to help with that.
He was still unconscious but the fever had broken. It was only when we slowed that I noticed his blood seeping from his shoulder. It stained the arjath’s matted fur and made it sticky. I checked the wound and found a large shard of wood embedded in his back.
I thought about pulling it out but knew he could easily bleed to death if I didn’t have the right equipment to hand. Riding on the arjath this way was only serving to push the shard of wood deeper into his flesh, making it bleed more. I knew Titans could heal fast but some injuries were more difficult to overcome than others.
Even for them.
But with no other means of transport, I kept the arjath moving. I ensured to always follow the flashing beacon on my device. Once we reached the shuttlecraft, I could airlift him to a hospital…
Except I didn’t know where the hospitals were. Or even if there were any. I would worry about that when we came to it.
For now, I had to get him somewhere to rest, preferably where I could get that shard of wood out of his system.
Finally, I hit on some luck.
Someone had left an old cart by the side of the road. It wasn’t the first one I’d seen but it was the first with the wheels still in place and capable of being pulled along.
I pulled the arjath to the side of the road and kept hold of its harness. The last thing I wanted was to lose him. He’d take Chax with him and then where would I be?
In the middle of nowhere, waiting for Iron Hoof to come pick us off.
I brought the arjath alongside the cart. That meant leading him down the embankment, which it wasn’t keen on doing, not until it saw how wet and juicy the grass was down there. He munched away quite happily after that.
Okay. Now I needed to shift Chax off the arjath onto the cart. Easy if I was a powerful Titan. But I was an average female human. I didn’t have the strength to carry him.
I needed to ease him down as carefully as possible onto the cart’s bed. I had no idea how deep the shard was in his body. If it got knocked deeper, closer to his heart, he might well be a goner.
With my engineer cap on, I devised a way to lower him slowly. With no other wood or ropes or pulley system, I was going to have to use my legs as the ramp he’d slide down.
It wasn’t going to be easy.
Please, gym training. For once in your life, be of some use to me!
Okay, so it’d already proven its use by getting Chax’s interest in me. And then there was riding him like a banshee last night. Definitely not possible if I hadn’t spent so much time on the cardio machines.