by C K Burch
Renewed anger settled into her face at this reminder. “Thomas can go to hell. He always hated the fact that mother doted over me so. And I always suspected that he blamed me for mother's death. He never said directly to me til now just how much disdain he had for me. Once, I overheard him and father discussing my endeavors. He was so angry, going on about how it wasn't fair that I was allowed space to roam where he had to work for it, how he felt so tied down to our family's engagements and I had been granted some sort of rare privilege to fill the void our mother had left.” She chuckled sarcastically. “I remember feeling ashamed. Everything was about his struggle – which was minimal – and my gender – which had nothing to do with anything at all – but all I could do was listen and think about how horrible I must be. Who was I to make my brother feel that way? I only wanted him to care about me the way family does, the way he once had when we were children. And so I'd done my best to mute myself as best I could.”
“Jesus.” Dust shook his head. “What a piece of shit.”
Jack laughed in a way that she both agreed and wished that she did not. “I just...sometimes I don't truly think about it, you know? Little moments like these come to light, and I examine it a little further, and sometimes...” She let out a long, emotional breath. “Sometimes I wish mother was still here so I could ask her truth.”
Dust clicked his tongue. “Find you a mirror once we get out of here. You want to see her truth? Look no further.”
“Again, your kindness knows no bounds.”
“Truth is all I've got.” He pondered a moment. “So, let's say, we get Cairn, we get out of here, we go back to our world and pick up the pieces. What then, for you? A new adventure? Moving on to bigger and better things?”
Sadness encroached the corner of her eyes as she considered. “All of this has lost its luster. Adventure, excitement, discovery. The only thing that matters to me at this point is taking care of my friend. There's been too much to savor any sort of reward we could make beyond that.”
“That boy is very lucky to have you.”
She smiled warmly. “He's a beautiful human who deserves to be seen not by his appearance, but for who he is. I have made a great attempt to give him space to grow as a human, even as Thomas orders and shuffles him about, and no matter what happens, I'll protect that boy with my life.”
Dust chuckled. “And the daughter becomes the mother.”
Jack raised her head as if to protest, then a wry smile arranged her features. “I do believe so, Mister McAlan. I do believe so.”
“Well, then,” Dust yawned, stretching his free arm, “I think that it's past time for us to fall asleep. The morning will probably come as quickly as the night did. You still feel good about our current sleeping arrangement?”
She responded by cuddling closer. “You're quite comfortable. Should we ever find ourselves in this position again, like as not I'd be more than happy to repeat this arrangement.”
“That sounds fine to me, boss.” He settled himself into the comfort of the mattress. “Good night, Lady Blythe-Wight, and may your dreams be pleasant.”
“Oh,” she stirred, “please be sure to kiss my forehead again to wake me in the morning. Apparently it's the only thing that rouses me with any sort of speed.”
Dust frowned. “Seriously?”
“Two of my partners swear by it. And I should like to be up and moving as quickly as possible.”
“Alright, Sleeping Beauty, as you wish.”
It was not long before the both of them were asleep, peacefully, and without stirring in the night.
***
X
Dawn crept through the ceiling.
Dust opened his eyes to the awareness of an ache in his shoulder that he was unaccustomed to. When he attempted to roll his body to stretch it out, he realized that Jack's head was resting on said shoulder, her body still curled up against his. Both of them had laid there through the night, dead tired no doubt, without moving once. Strange, yet welcome. His next attempt to pry himself free from her was met with resistance and a firm clutch. The woman refused to wake or move, and here Dust found himself in a bit of a quandary, as an intense desire to relieve himself had become very much present and pressured him to act.
Movement and sound caught his attention. The pelt hanging over the entrance to the hut was drawn quickly aside, and Dust recognized Johyung looking inside.
“Your pardon is cried,” she spoke. “Karaang assembles a new party to venture forth into the city. I am here to rouse you and bring you down so that we might leave at once.”
Dust nodded, blinking away the sleep from his vision. He tried to sit up with more force, but Jack still denied him from moving. She was much stronger than she appeared at a glance.
“It seems you wore her out last night,” Johyung noted with some approval. “Although, with what little noise you humans seem to make in your mating, it's a wonder that you could do so.”
Dust paused. “Were you listening for us?”
“It is customary for us. We believe that the act of mating is a sacred ritual, one to be explored and shared with the village. The cries of sexual pleasure are a wonderful thing.” Johyung shook her head. “Silent as the grave and clothed. And yet fully satisfied. You humans are strange.”
All Dust could do was nod his head. At least his reputation was secure.
Johyung departed, and Dust decided to put forth an extra effort. He needed to relieve himself and they needed to leave. He shook Jack's shoulder; he grasped her hand and squeezed; he spoke her name aloud. Still no response aside from refusal to stir. Damnedest thing. Finally, submitting to her request for a more delicate method of awakening, he crooked his neck so that he could press his lips against her forehead. At this she drew a sharp intake of breath and began to move. Slowly, she rolled herself over onto her side as she stretched, yawning heavily. Wonders might never cease.
“Sweet mother,” Dust sighed. He pried himself free and began to get out of bed.
“Mhhmhm,” she muttered. “What?”
“First off, we've been summoned to head back into the city. Second, you sleep like the dead, and I really have to go pee.”
She smiled dreamily. “You poor thing.”
“Funny,” he grumbled back. “Downstairs. Soon. We need to leave.”
“Yes. Cairn.” She pushed herself upwards, battling the lullaby of continued rest, and roused herself completely. She stretched and yawned, and something about that very vulnerable action felt very warm and welcome to Dust. It had been a long time since he'd woken up next to a warm body, even longer since it had been completely platonic, and he felt himself care for her beyond the confines of employment. Well, there were perhaps worse things to take away from an adventure of this type.
“Stop staring at me and go piss,” Jack mumbled.
Dust smiled. Yes, worse things indeed.
***
Riding once more upon the backs of the Bandara, the journey back into the city was swift and without incident. A rising sensation of tension and terror built with each swing, something that Dust was quick to notice in Jack's face. As she had climbed over Karaang's back and Dust over Johyung's, he'd seen the brief look of fraught anticipation in her features, which he had allowed a casual dismissal of in the moment, but every here and there the group would stop and pause, and Dust would turn to look at her face for confirmation. More and more the look in her eyes bespoke chills deep down inside of her as they came closer to discovering Cairn's fate. Internally he blocked any sort of rising fear, instead placing a knowing hope on Ryder's skills as a trapper to maintain camp in a hostile environment. And should the worst have already come to pass, then Dust would relieve the man of his grip on life.
Landing near the central hub of the inner ruins, Dust and Jack slipped from their mounts. All around them the wildlife felt thicker and deeper than when they had seen it last – indeed, the closer they moved into the heart of the city, the more growth and greenery it seemed there was to b
e found. Wilderness had completely overtaken the architecture here, to the point where it was difficult to discern stone from stems. Large trees grew up through the street, vines ensnared the whole of the temples surrounding, slippery moss lay dominant along the cobbled stone path. Noting all of this, Dust wondered at just how much effort the Bandara put into the cleaning of the outer circles of the city in order to let the bees – honeymakers, he blithely corrected himself – restrict their flight patterns to the interior only. Marvelous work. What lay before him gave the impression of unrestricted jungle, an effect that was only broken by the corners of the buildings as they turned and rose between the uniform flow of plantlife. Cautiously, he checked his footing; the slick moss would be difficult footing if the time came for a chase, and it was quite literally everywhere. Anything that lived out here would be adapted to running upon and over it. Then again, so were the Bandara. A quick glance over at Jack revealed that she was already brandishing the pistol as her eyes scanned above and around them for any sort of threat. As well she ought; Dust, too, felt the pressure in his chest that usually was followed by a terrible fracas. His left hand had unconsciously grasped the handle of the bullwhip. With a bemused smirk, he thought, Here there be dragons.
Karaang pointed ahead. “The remains of a human camp were discovered this morning. My scouts said there was little to investigate, but we will search there first for signs of your friend.”
Jack caught her breath, and nodded. To her credit, her reaction was almost inaudible. As the group strode forward, Dust gently placed one hand on her shoulder, to which she also gave little reaction. A brief nod, then onward. No time for thought towards anything beyond discovery.
Rounding the next corner, they came upon the sight of one of the jeeps tossed onto its side, perfectly still in the center of the street. The windshield had been shattered – glass shards crackled and crunched beneath Dust's boots as he approached – and the framework had been violently crushed inwards all around the body. Peering around the corner revealed the corpses of two mercenaries...or, rather, what was left of them. Headless men lay beside the jeep, propped up in such a position to suggest that they had been sitting in their seats when the vehicle had been upended, and then viciously attacked once out of safety. Multiple, jagged flesh wounds had been raked over and across their chests, and their arms appeared to be held on by mere tendons; were they to attempt to move the bodies, pieces would no doubt pull apart like damaged puppets. Gore and gristle shone in the brightening daylight, scattered all over the ground, to which Dust found himself unusually struck by. He'd seen his fair share of death in his adventures, but the sheer ferocity of these attacks were unnerving. Whatever had come at them had not done so in an attempt to consume or hunt, but merely to eviscerate.
Jack stood beside him, staring at the bodies. Her expression was unreadable.
“He's not here,” she stated, cold as scientific fact.
Beside them, Johyung made a sound. “Inside,” she said quietly, motioning for them to join her. She stood just outside the entrance to the building on the southern corner of the intersection, which was difficult to discern due to the curtain of moss draped over the entryway. Johyung drew it to one side as she gestured for them to approach. Darkness was all that was promised within. After a deep breath, Jack strode towards the doorway. Dust followed close behind, and as a result nearly crashed into her back as she halted at the threshold. Her hands came to her face, accompanied by a sharp gasp of horror and fear, and as he looked over her shoulder after his eyes adjusted for the shadows, he saw why.
In the dim light of the building, he could make out statues that stood at measured intervals, each one of them draped over with vines and moss, these curtains spattered with what could have only been gallons of blood. Multiple body parts had been strewn about like chaff from wheat, painting the vines covering the floor in a gruesome crimson and black. What looked like the remains of a camp lay in the center of the space: a burnt-out firepit crafted of dried weed and vine, snapped tent poles and torn fabric, spent bullet casings and abandoned Tommy guns. Dust stepped forward and felt the toe of his boot linger on a foreign object. He looked down – it was a human finger, torn away at the second knuckle. A man's, however, not a child's, and for that at least he felt a surge of relief. Not a single complete torso could be found in the scene before them, a testament to the severity of the creatures that held reign over the darkness here, which Dust felt mildly comforted in that they would not find these beasts headlong.
But Jack's chest rose and fell with such quickness that Dust could scarcely believe that she was drawing any breath at all. Her lungs expelled rapid-fire, hot and brief, displaying anxiety most likely triggered by both the sight before her and the lack of evidence that suggestion Cairn had survived this. He placed his hand on her shoulder and felt her whole body quaking lightly. It rose into a horrible tremor that wracked itself up and down her being as she contemplated this scene, and at last, she could take no more: she fell to her knees in quiet sobs, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as though she were desperately attempting to hold herself in one piece, as much as it were possible. Dust lowered himself beside her and put his arms across her shoulders to hug her close. She needed to release this sorrow, unfounded or no.
“Naga,” Karaang whispered.
Dust whirled at this. He knew what those were: mythological serpent deities from the Patala, or Hindu underworld. Vicious, crafty beings, highly regarded depending on the religion, Dust understood that classical depictions had these beings as either half-human/half-serpent, or serpents with anthropomorphic features. Whichever was the case, Karaang spoke of these beasts in the same hushed tone as one would invoke a dangerous lion: awe and fear. And the evidence of the massacre surrounding them was more than enough to speak of their violent delights.
Jack managed to speak between her tears. “I don't see him. He's not here. He's not here.”
Returning to Jack, Dust replied, “The other jeeps are gone. Someone survived, and Cairn might be with them. This looks real bad, but there's still a chance. Okay?”
Jack nodded, but her continued, silent crying did not contain much hope.
And then, from the corner of the expanse, what sounded like the smallest voice in all of creation spoke from beneath a tangle of vines:
“Mum?”
It was a gunshot in a quiet room. Everyone turned at the sound, meek as it was, with Jack the quickest of all to react. Before Dust had registered the location of the voice, Jack was up and moving towards it, soles of her feet sipping in anxious haste, and she slid the last foot on her knees, her arms swiping madly at the green net which descended over the darkened corner. Dust approached her and knelt to help, but a wonder met him instead: Jack pulled the last of the vines aside and there, curled into a ball for self-protection and nursing a wound at his midsection, was Cairn. His face was muddled with blood that did not appear to be his own, his wild red hair was plastered down across his face, and a mixture of fear and relief swam over his features. Were it not for the gently seeping wound that he held closed with his hands, they would have gathered the lad into their arms in sheer delight. But the realization of his injury took over the mood with sobering reality.
“Oh, Cairn.” Jack reached out and touched the boy's face gently, wiping aside hair that had been pasted to the side of his face by mud and blood.
“I knew you'd come,” was his only response, and he tried to smile but winced in pain instead. “Didn't give up hope, me. But it was a rough'un, mum. A fearful night it was.”
Dust knelt closer and, carefully, moved Cairn's hand away from his torso. What was revealed needed decisive attention, but was less violent in nature than Dust had worried. Three slash marks, less than half an inch deep, flew across Cairn's ribcage. Blood had soaked through the boy's clothing, marking a dark stain from however long he'd been hiding, but if he'd been crouched throughout the night, and it had only bled this much, then he hadn't been attacked with the intent to kill.
Curiously, Dust looked around, noting once more the bones and meat left of whichever mercenaries had fallen prey to the beasts of the night. Yet Cairn was still mostly whole.
Something was wrong.
Johyung leaned over Dust's shoulder. “This is a trap.”
Cairn screamed. He hadn't seen the Bandara standing in the background until this moment, and Dust could only imagine the effect on the frightened lad at seeing the strange monkey guardian's intense features.
“Cairn,” Jack hushed, placing her palms delicately on Cairn's writhing body. “Cairn, no, it's okay, they're friends, they're with us, it's – ”
“What are they?!” Cairn's eyes were wider than an owl's, flicking back and forth between Johyung and the now-approaching Karaang. His legs slid and spun on the slick floor as he attempted to back himself as far into the corner as he could.
“He must be quiet,” Karaang warned. “The Naga will hear him.”
Dust frowned. “I thought you said they only come out at night?”
“They mostly come out at night. This is trap. They've left a wounded target that cannot defend itself out for other, lesser predators to find. They're near. We must leave here at once.”
Jack paused herself from attempting to calm Cairn down and turned to Dust. “We need the Amrita,” she spoke urgently. “We don't have the supplies to heal his body. The honey will, but we need to move.”
“At least we all agree with each other.” Dust knelt down beside Cairn and snapped his fingers. “Hey. Kid. Look at me. Just me. Okay?”
Cairn complied, realizing that, for whatever purpose, the monkey people were not attacking either he or his friends. With his chest still heaving up and down in fear, he locked his gaze with Dust's and held it dearly.
“We need to move,” Dust continued. “It's gonna suck, but the Bandara here are with us, and they're gonna help protect us. Okay?”
Cairn nodded.
“Okay. You good to move?”
Cairn nodded once more, happily this time.