First Draw

by Tim Moon

  The dizzying motion flung him around painfully. This was a life or death struggle in one of its most basic forms — man versus beast. Jaron never liked to lose, and he wasn’t about to start now. The creature stopped rolling and Jaron took advantage of the opening to reach down to his waist and draw the knife. He opened his eyes and grimaced as the grit and grime of the swamp water aggravated his eyes. A mere annoyance compared to the shredded mess he knew his leg must be.

  The sharkodile’s mottled skin stood out under the murky water, making it an easy target. Jaron drew the blade across its snout, hoping it would release his leg. It did not. Instead it rolled again.

  Jaron’s lungs burned almost as much as the bite. He wanted, no, he needed air! He was not going to die like this. Jaron had to kill this monstrous sharkodile and he had to do it before its buddy joined in the fight. Jaron would not become mud pie.

  Rallying his strength, Jaron thrust the knife into the sharkodile’s large, black eye. A pop and a grinding sensation ran through his hand as the weapon pierced deep into the animal’s eye socket. He twisted the blade and yanked it out to strike again. Furious and terrified, Jaron stabbed again and again, but its stubborn jaws remained locked. His stamina was dangerously low, and his lungs were on fire. Then he saw another vulnerable spot through the murky, blood stained water and reached to the side of the sharkodile’s head and plunged the knife through its gill slits.

  The sharkodile jerked its mouth open and spit him out as though gagging from the intrusion into its respiratory system. Jaron lashed out again with the blade. It made contact but he couldn’t tell if it was an effective strike.

  As much as Jaron wanted to kill the creature, he had to breath. Kicking and pulling his way towards the surface, his stamina dipped below 10% and his health continued to plummet. Now that he was free, he had to fight fatigue, injury, and a dwindling oxygen supply to reach the surface. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shadow of the boat approaching but it was just so far away. The darkness in his vision began to close in.

  Swimming with only one good leg and a knife in one hand is not easy, his oxygen deprived mind realized. Part of him wanted to drop the knife in a desperate bid to reach the surface. But if he did, and the shark returned, he would be done for.

  During his whole internal monologue, Jaron continued to swim, moving inch by inch closer salvation. Then his head broke the surface and he gasped for air.

  All he thought about was how glorious it was to breath. Such a simple thing, yet now he valued each breath, even more than when he nearly drowned in the stream. Jaron gulped air, too exhausted to even cry out in pain.

  A notification appeared.

  Congratulations! You have fought valiantly with a dagger. Doing so unlocked the skill Small Blades. You have progressed 30% through level 1. Reward: 50 XP Continue honing your skills to reach your true potential.

  Jaron dismissed the screen without much interest, content to simply breath.

  “Watch out,” one of the kids shrieked.

  Jaron turned his head just as the second sharkodile breached the surface and his vision suddenly filled with row upon row of jagged white teeth. The buff to his speed helped him bring the blade up in a feeble attempt to slash the shark’s pointed snout. Deep down, he knew it was hopeless. He barely had time to think—shit! —before impact.

  Then, a sudden jab from a long wooden pole, accompanied by a burst of hot, yellow light made the creature pull its bite. The sharkodile clamped its jaws shut and jerked to the side at the last second.

  Taking advantage of the opening, Jaron slashed his knife down the length of the beast as it swam past him, opening a wide gash in its flank. Cyprus hurled another spell that blew off a chunk of the sharkodile’s tail. Jaron grinned, too weak to cheer at the wicked score. The tail floated past him in opposite direction still twitching while the sharkodile spasmed in the water.

  Weakened by the grievous wound Jaron dealt combined with the crippling spell Cyprus had cast, did not diminish the sharkodile’s fighting spirit. It turned awkwardly and came at Jaron again. He braced himself for another round with the beast when a sudden boom eliminated the threat. Water, blood and bits of sharkodile rained down on them.

  “Holy shit,” Jaron muttered as he floated on his back.

  A wave of nausea came over Jaron, and he felt lightheaded. Their whole section of swamp was red with blood. Jaron looked around, disgusted, knowing that some of it was his blood. Everything felt slow and muffled. He struggled to sheath his knife and tried to pull himself towards the boat but found he couldn’t keep his head up. He was just so damn tired. The strangest floating sensation came over him even as his head dipped into the water and he began to sink.

  Raising one hand towards the surface, he tried to kick with his one good leg, but it was more of a spastic jerk than anything. He pulled at the water with his other hand, trying to reach the surface so his friends could pull him out. It was so close, yet so far.

  There was a sudden splash that pushed against Jaron and a burst of bubbles filled his blurred vision. As the bubbles cleared, he saw a large cat swimming towards him, which made no sense. Cats hate to swim, he thought.

  When it got closer, as the darkness closed in and the last thing he saw was the cat’s jaws open wide.

  My, what big teeth you have, Jaron thought followed quickly by, Hey, don’t I know you? Then he lost consciousness.

  The next thing Jaron knew, he was on his back spitting out water and breathing fresh air. Leaves waved down at him. White clouds and a bright blue sky combined to make odd shapes. He could have sworn he saw green fairy dragons fly by and wink at him.

  “What’s wrong with him?” a girl’s voice said.

  “Yeah, what’s he grinnin’ about?” a boy asked.

  Their faces peered down at him, distorted and wobbly.

  “He’s been bitten by a sharkodile and their saliva is filled with bad humours.” Cyprus shooed them aside and placed a paw on Jaron’s forehead.

  Jaron reached out and began to pet his paw. “Yerrrrr soft,” he slurred.

  Then golden light emanated from the massive paw.

  “Oooh, pretty,” he slurred.

  A couple of the children giggled at Jaron.

  When the golden light suffused Jaron, a warm tingling sensation filled him and much of the pain subsided. As the delusion cleared, Jaron also pulled his hand back from Cyprus’ paw. He felt weak and out of sorts, like a bad hangover. Jaron began to sit up, but Cyprus gently pushed him back down.

  “Wait, there is still much to do. Your leg is quite damaged.”

  Jaron laid back and sighed in relief. He really did feel much better. Water dripped on him and he looked at his friend.

  “Why are you all wet?” he asked.

  “Who do you think dragged you out of the water?” Cyprus asked with a sour expression.

  As Jaron watched a bead of water grew at the end of Cyprus’ beard. It glistened in the sunlight for a second and then dropped off. He remembered seeing a cat underwater and chuckled at the realization that it had been his friend.

  When Cyprus stopped chanting, he turned a stern gaze on Jaron. “That is funny, eh?”

  Jaron nodded, unable to stop a fit of laughter.

  “Maybe I should let you get swamp fever,” Cyprus said sharply. He returned to the back of the boat and began to row. Jaron made to get up and take up his pole, but it was gone, and Cyprus snapped at him. “You need rest. Sit there and enjoy the respite.”

  Cyprus shook his body like a dog to shed water. The spray of droplets surprised the kids. They all looked at him as his fur puffed up. Everyone burst out laughing.

  Cyprus raised his chin and rowed stoically.

  The group sobered quickly though, still shaken by the violent encounter. In the silence that followed, Jaron took the time to read his notifications.

  Congratulations! You mortally wounded a level 3 sharkodile, which is no small feat. You have earned 150 XP.

  Congratulat
ions! You have killed a level 2 sharkodile. You have earned 75 XP.

  Congratulations! You have slain a sharkodile with a dagger. Though your blade is small, enemies should be weary. You have progressed an additional 30% through level 1 of Small Blades. Continue honing your skills to reach your true potential.

  Congratulations! You have completed the quest Call of the Helpless. For saving Chandi on behalf of Darya, you have been awarded 100 XP. Well done!

  Grimacing in anticipation of what he expected would be a gruesome sight, he looked at his leg. Jaron’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe it! His leg was whole and unblemished. This was at least a hundred times more impressive than when Cyprus healed his cuts and scratches before. Even deluded by the sharkodile saliva, he remembered the way it felt when the teeth sank in, and then to have ribbons of flesh dangling from the wound as he swam.

  “Thank you, Cyprus,” Jaron said.

  The felidari stopped licking his paw and smoothing out his fur long enough to look down at him and nod. He had that detached air about him, just like a house cat. Without another word, he went back to cleaning his fur.

  Jaron sighed heavily and leaned against the edge of the boat. He had enough excitement for one day and hoped they could finish the journey through the swamp without another incident. It had been a tough fight, one that had cost them dearly.

  “I didn’t know Oubin well, but he seemed like a good kid,” Jaron said. Everyone glanced at him and listened, sadness in their eyes. “I’m sorry that we lost him.”

  Darya patted his shoulder. “Thank you for fighting off those terrible creatures and especially for saving…” She sniffed tears back. “For saving my dear friend Chandi.”

  Jaron’s vision blurred at the emotion in her words. All he could do was nod and pat her hand.

  18

  Before it grew dark, Cyprus guided them towards a small island. Several gangly trees leaned over the island making the dirt mound appear dark and gloomy, but it was relatively dry and showed no signs of inhabitants.

  They let the boat run aground before Cyprus and Jaron stepped out and quickly checked the area for dangerous animals while the kids waited. When they were certain that they would not be immediately attacked, Jaron and Cyprus helped the kids get to shore and then pulled the boat halfway onto land and tied it off, so it didn’t float away.

  “I’m hungry,” Zora said, in a shrill, whiny voice.

  “Keep it down,” Kwang told her. “Do you want another attack?”

  “No.”

  “Stop it, please,” Sabrina chided them.

  “Did you find your kitten yet?” he shot back.

  Jaron had enough of the bickering. “Whoa! Relax, all of you. We’ve had a tough day. Why don’t we try to find some dry wood and see about making a fire?”

  The kids glared daggers at each other but did as they were told, for the most part. Zora sat down and crossed her arms over her chest, with a defiant look. Silvano went to hunt down dry sticks.

  They scoured the small island but didn’t find much. The wood Jaron found was damp and rotted. The blob of land was depressing.

  “I can’t find anything edible,” Silvano said when he came back.

  “Well, you checked, that’s a good start,” Jaron said. “I wouldn’t even know what was edible here.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, where I come from most people don’t forage for food,” Jaron explained. “Plus, most of the plants and animals here are foreign to me.”

  “You must miss your home,” Silvano said.

  “Yeah, I do. Most of all, I miss my mom. I had to leave her behind,” Jaron said. The boy had a shocked expression. “We are at war with a terrible enemy.”

  Silvano looked unsure what to say.

  “What’s the name of the town we’re going to?” Jaron asked.

  “Oakenport.”

  “Have you always lived there?”

  Silvano nodded.

  “What are you going to do when we get back?” Jaron asked.

  Silvano looked at the ground and shrugged.

  “I don’t want to go back,” Kwang said, returning with a few sticks. He dropped them on the ground and sat on a fallen log.

  “Why?”

  “The orphanage is too crowded and some of the kids are mean,” Kwang said.

  “Hmm,” Jaron grunted. He would have to talk to Cyprus about their options. “We’ll find a way to help all of you get on your feet.”

  Silvano looked confused but before he could speak, Sabrina returned with wood.

  “Jaron, this is all I could find,” she said, holding up a few twigs covered in dead moss.

  “Okay, thanks,” Jaron said. He looked over the sticks they had found.

  None of it could be used to start a fire. So, they did what they could to make themselves comfortable, which wasn’t much. Cyprus took the opportunity to tell the children a story while they settled down for the evening.

  Following a thrilling tale about a valiant knight who saved her duke from an evil wizard, the kids slowly began to fall asleep. Jaron took the first shift of guard duty.

  As dusk fell on the swamp and the whole area came alive, he thought about their predicament. Bats flitted overhead, swooping and careening wildly to catch bugs while frogs and other insects filled the night with their music.

  19

  Jaron watched himself from a 3rd person perspective. He was armed and moving through a darkened building. Right away he realized he was with his squad clearing rooms. Heavy breaths echoed strangely through his protective mask, making him sound vaguely like Darth Vader. Sweat trickled down his back thanks to the warm, bulk of his modified hazmat combat suit.

  With a jolt that made his body shake, Jaron remembered this mission. They were hunting muties, or mutants, that were humans infected by the Crithzari biopods. Once infected, it was game over. No effective treatment or vaccine had been found yet. Direct contact with the green mist infected quickest. However, an exposed animal or human could also transmit the bioweapon through bodily fluids.

  The bioweapon would then corrupt the body, which served as host, food and raw building material for the truly horrifying beast they would eventually become. Once fully transformed, they were called kaiju thanks to their resemblance to the Japanese mythological creatures and popular science fiction tales of old. Some muties took weeks to fully transform while others took days. How and why the differences occurred were another mystery.

  Jaron saw himself enter a room that had haunted his dreams since the actual event occurred years ago. A girl knelt in a corner; her deformed body showed clear signs of mutation. She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. Her stringy hair swept aside, and at first, she looked normal, if dirty. Then she continued to turn her head, revealing a large reptilian eye. One arm had a lengthened and her fingers had fused into three wickedly curved claws. Jaron, or Private Luke Rivers at the time, hesitated.

  “Terminate the mutie, private,” his squad leader yelled at him.

  Jaron watched himself sight down the rifle at her. Then suddenly he wasn’t watching from above, he was inside the promask looking at her at the end of his barrel. Roughly ten feet separated the two of them. At first, the girl looked sad and pitiful. He sucked in a breath. Her sadness turned to fury and she leaped at him. Vicious claws slashed through the air, leaving him no choice but to squeeze off round after round. They struck her tiny body and she went limp.

  Her attack knocked his rifle aside, but she had already expired. Momentum carried her past him and into the wall. She slammed into it and fell onto her back. Jaron looked down at her leaking body. The horrific expression on her face as blood pooled around her deformed boy made him tremble. Great shakes seized him, and the world began to distort. His squad leader slapped him upside the head and yelled but he couldn’t make out what the guy was saying. Everything shook around him.

  Jaron bolted upright, startling someone who jerked back with a squeak. He blinked awake and took a deep b
reath to calm his racing heart.

  “Snakes,” Chandi whispered, dropping to a knee beside him and pressing a finger to his lips.

  “Huh? What?”

  “Snakes are attacking the others.”

  Jaron frowned and went for his spear but remembered he lost it in the sharkodile attack.

  “Snakes? Shit. Where are they?” he asked, drawing his knife. His eyes had yet to fully adjust to the darkness.

  “Over there,” Chandi said. “I think they got everyone.”

  Was this place designed to be like Australia? Jaron thought. Because everything is trying to kill us.

  “Wait, what are you doing over here?” he asked.

  Chandi turned her head away. “I had to pee. When I came back, I saw the snakes. We’re the only ones who escaped their notice.”

  “Can you point them out to me?” Jaron said. He was grateful he chose to sleep a small distance from the main group on a patch of damp grass. It kept him from being offed in his sleep and now he could help the others. “My eyes haven’t adjusted yet.”

  Inwardly, Jaron groaned. How much more fighting could he possibly do on an empty stomach?

  Chandi took several careful steps and knelt behind a bush, pointing towards the small clearing where most of the group slept. Jaron took a knee beside her and squinted into the darkness. It took a moment to make out the shapes, and when he spotted Cyprus, his throat clenched, and he put a hand over his mouth as he fought the urge to gag.

  An odd white material encased Cyprus, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst part was the massive snake in the process of swallowing him. The snake’s disjointed and distended jaw had nearly reached the felidari’s waist.

  Snakes generally didn’t bother Jaron. However, the sheer size of this thing piqued an instinctual fear deep within. It took a mighty effort to push that aside and think clearly about the tactical situation. It only took a fraction of a second to evaluate the scenario. The snake eating Cyprus was preoccupied and was therefore not an immediate threat. This worked in his favor since he would only have to fight one snake at a time.