Live Like a God

by Taylor Kole

  Maybe they could hug it out, squeeze a little too tight around the hip region, share a platonic kiss.

  Josh noticed the camp had grown quiet while he centered himself with his weapon. He flushed at the thought they were reading his current thoughts.

  He stabbed the scimitar into the ground. All eyes were focused on his blade as it sunk a couple feet into the hard packed earth.

  “When do we leave?” Josh asked.

  Artemis stepped forward, tied his raven hair in a knot, and said, “I have been to the mound. At your word, I will lead you to its entrance.”

  After seeking an excuse good enough to turn back and coming up blank, Josh said, “Let’s do this.”

  Artemis moved like a shadow from tree to tree, dissolving into each trunk. He would stop and scan for danger. His expectation that Josh, a two-thousand-pound man, could mirror his grace grew annoying really fast. On the plus side, watching his guide dip into crevices, vanish, and make constant calculations added a flutter to Josh’s heart as his excitement grew. They were in “the shit.”

  Josh strained his hearing to detect abnormal sounds and was blown away by the clarity and amount of sound. He honed in on the rustle of leaves. He turned to the sound of a cracking twig, peered at the swaying branches overhead.

  The threat of danger seemed to extend his field of vision, sharpen his hearing, and even initiate a sixth sense that turned him around and around. His heart thumped like it never had before.

  He smelled a dozen unique smells from this exotic jungle. A psychologist might label these physiological markers a heightened state, a junkie would say how he was zooted, a Marine that he was now on point.

  Regardless of the branding, Josh was alive.

  They stopped along the edge of an open area the size of a baseball field. Artemis stared at the expanse so long that Josh worried his guide saw something that Josh didn’t. Josh saw a few boulders and piled logs at the one-quarter mark, and an open field. They would provide cover, but the scant cover there and after would leave them exposed to anything lurking in the surrounding vegetation. Artemis pointed at the logs and then held up his hand for Josh to wait.

  Without giving Josh a chance to reply, he raced across the opening, knelt behind a boulder, went prone, and belly-crawled until he lay next to the set of logs in the center.

  This whole exercise brought Josh back to his childhood memories of playing G.I. Joe, which helped displace some of his mounting fear.

  After minutes and more minutes of Artemis searching the opposite side of the clearing, and with no signs that the excessive caution would ever end, Josh walked over to him, squatted, and waited for his guide’s report. The wary man eased back to Josh.

  One dirty look, presumably for disobeying his command to stay, then Artemis whispered, “Can you smell that?”

  Josh inhaled. The air around him carried a base scent of putrid bile, a fragrance present since crossing the border. With concentration, he did detect a new odor, more fishlike. Josh nodded.

  “That’s their food trail.” He pointed straight ahead. “Forty paces away. Food trails never last long, meaning this one was recently laid. Stay vigilant.” Artemis searched Josh’s eyes to see that he understood. The prudent man had increased the frequency of his scrutinizing looks ever since they left the camp, as if superhuman strength made you stupid.

  Josh adhered to his guide’s advice because he was a guest, and, though frightened, it was exhilarating to sneak around a strange jungle. Also because he knew the value of listening to the person with the most knowledge on a subject. However, trekking through this alien territory presented a unique set of circumstances. Josh might have less knowledge, but he was much stronger than his instructor. Creeping around all timid went against intuition. Josh could chop up two dozen bumbling ants without breaking a sweat. Had Artemis forgot what he did to that spider, which was a real threat? Being in the ant’s heartland meant nothing. Saving Artemis’ feelings was the only reason Josh kept quiet. Travel would go much easier if Josh pulled out his massive sword and they strolled the jungle as loud as they wanted. He’d just execute every demon they encountered.

  “Eviscerators travel alone but they are never far apart,” Artemis said. “We cross that food trail as quickly as possible.” Again, he searched Josh’s eyes as if seeking a sign that Josh understood him. “If you see an eviscerator, run to the pile of logs over there and hide.”

  Josh scoffed. He had more torque than an Earth Drill 50k Max. He wasn’t going to hide from brawls with tiny-armed lessers.

  As if sensing his mood Artemis added, “They may be no match for you. I will concede that possibility, but they number in the hundreds. Sounding their alarms this early could move us off course and create a level of havoc that forces our retreat.” He stared.

  With adrenaline altering his normally placid demeanor to annoyed as heck, Josh smirked and somewhat nodded.

  Talking in a near whisper, as if he really believed the word god meant stupid, Artemis added, “If we see a demon or they see us, we run and stay hidden. The farther they stray from their scented trails the more confused they become. Their memory is short. They will forget about us and return to their assignment.”

  In his current condition, Josh wouldn’t get out of the way of an oncoming Mack truck, but he nodded. For politeness sake, he would obey.

  “Shall we continue?” Artemis asked. When Josh exhaled, he added, “Stay close. Be silent.”

  Without a sound, the man ran to the food trail, leapt over it, and crossed the rest of the field, finding cover in the brush.

  Watching his guide act skittish without seeing any danger, embarrassed Josh. After a sigh he followed at a casual pace. An alert stroll, if you will. This was his vacation.

  He kept watch on the trail as he went, listening for any sound, looking for any movement.

  There was no reason for him to quiver like a mouse.

  If an ant presented itself he would run to the rendezvous. Until then he considered it more beneficial to learn the lay of the land.

  In the middle of the opening, near the trail, the amber glow of the overhead suns offered his first respite in some time from the dense foliage. Being away from the village, out in nature, created a medicinal warmth and a feeling of liberation. Lingering a moment to soak up the invigoration seemed reasonable.

  Reaching the food trail, he inspected it: two feet wide and darker than the border. It gave off a heat as if acidic. Straddling the marking, he found its odor repugnant but more aligned with potent coffee. Its presence offended him. It was like a challenge to his dominion.

  Squatting, he ran his finger along the edge of the sludge and sniffed. He gagged, jerked his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. Potent coffee laced with dog vomit.

  Stepping back and breathing through his nose, he wiped his fingers on clean earth, breathed normally and glanced over to where Artemis lurked on his hands and knees near a pile of branches against a tree.

  Josh sensed the man’s judging. But Josh didn’t need to hide. He was a goddamn god.

  Wanting to avoid dragging his feet through the sludge, he bounded over the trail. Landing with such great agility, he released a pent up joy. He really was special. This short hop felt amazing. He leapt back to the other side. One more time forward, much further, swaying his arms past his sides like an Olympian long jumper.

  His chest swelled at the sensation. If he could jump twenty feet straight up when standing still, how far could he long jump? How fast could he run the hundred-yard dash, the mile?

  Roughly sixty feet separated Josh from his destination. He knew his lolly-gagging was making Artemis mad. Part of him felt childish for doing so. He contemplated bounding over to him, skipping ten feet per stride. Wanting to be mature, he denied himself the pleasure. On the same ticket, he was done cowering. He would walk to the logs and until they saw one sign of danger, he would stroll from spot to spot.

  Movement drew his attention to his left.

  Like a sl
ow-chugging locomotive, he saw a glossy maroon ant, as tall as Josh’s waist, powering down the trail in his direction.

  This time Artemis made noises, used a series of urgent clicks, as if Josh was a horse in need of prodding. He fought the urge to give the guy the middle finger. Josh would get to him. For now, with the beast a safe distance away and unaware of Josh, he stood transfixed.

  Its body was nearly twice as wide as Josh at his widest. Its head swiveled back and forth like a dog on a scent, mandibles down, almost dragging against the earth. The combination of an armored body and serrated blades jutting from the sides of its face hitched Josh’s breath. Yet even with these scary qualities, he didn’t find the ant a tenth as threatening as the agile spider. It was half the size, seemingly a fraction the intellect, waddling along unaware that a god stood in its path.

  Artemis kept clicking at him from his hiding spot, but what did Josh have to be afraid of?

  The jaws, sure, but this thing was alone, slow and stupid.

  A swing of his blade would mean one less demon to hurt Flavius or Junea.

  Pulling the scimitar from its sheath, he dragged it along the harness to hear the ring of steel.

  “JoshRidley!” Artemis called with urgency.

  The ant paused on the trail. Still fifty yards away, it lifted its head. Waddled left and wiggled its head. Shuffled right and repeated the action.

  Its slack antennae went rigid, bent at sixty-degree angles and scanned in jittery hops. They bounced, pausing, and quaking. Bounced. Paused. Quaked.

  What an amazing sight!

  “JoshRidley, you must hurry! Come to me.”

  Josh pointed the blade toward the lone ant and side-stepped toward Artemis.

  The antennae locked onto his movement, stopping Josh.

  Like a greyhound shot from the gate, the insect charged.

  All six legs pistoned into the ground. The demon moved faster than the spider. Josh believed it would dust a super bike in a drag race.

  The plated demon no longer seemed stupid or docile. It looked like hell’s version of a pitbull charging toward a newly delivered soul.

  “Leave him, JoshRidley! Run! You must!”

  The word run, barked by a man with a thousandth of Josh’s ability offended the new Josh on a genetic level. It was like nails scraping down a chalkboard. He lifted his blade to the side and dug his feet into the ground like a batter at the plate.

  With its rocket speed, the demon would be on him before he made it to the logs anyway.

  Beyond the drumming of its stride, Josh heard garbled clicks from the beast.

  He lifted onto the balls of his feet and launched at his enemy. Right foot, air. Left foot, air. Josh closed the distance like a juggernaut.

  He raised the sword over his head.

  The eviscerator targeted Josh with absolute singularity.

  Its mandible dipped into the soft earth, rooster-tailing the soil.

  Josh landed and arched the blade downward. The armored demon thrust its head upward, mandibles clashed against steel, and for milliseconds, the two held a pose of man versus alien.

  A second later Josh’s scimitar crunched through the bone-like mandible, the crack as loud as a gunshot. Splinters of red bone-like material exploded into the air. Yet the sacrificed mandible deviated the strike’s aim, allowing the beast to parry the mortal blow.

  Using senses beyond sight and running on an overload of adrenaline, Josh continued past the seemingly unfazed creature. Knowing its position compared to his own, he blindly swung behind him with the blade perpendicular to his waist, intent on splitting the ant down its side as they separated.

  Before he completed the rotation, pain rocked his lower leg. It was followed by a fierce jerk that tore one foot from under him and tumbled him onto his rump.

  Instinctively, he positioned the sword in front of him, blade held straight and still, like a cross-bearing altar boy.

  The eviscerator had hooked a small foreleg spike into Josh’s calf. And with assassin-like precision, yanked him to the center of its vice-like jaws. Only the sword saved him. Its foul breath blasted him like Satan’s belch. If there had been two pincers they might have clamped a death grip on him. Instead, the single mandible struck the left side of his body. Then again and again. The broken pincer spewed a red puss as it wobbled in its socket.

  The slams from the serrated edge did not pierce Josh’s skin, but the creature’s scrambling feet had weakened their power. Josh feared, once the beast regained its footing, the serrated mandibles would stab into his thick hide as effectively as a harpoon into a whale.

  Using the blade to create distance, Josh placed his powerful hand on the scimitar’s rear grip near his face. Using all the strength and dexterity he could muster from a sitting position, he sat forward while shoving the blade out with his upper hand and pulling the ivory handle in.

  Even from the awkward seating, the force he applied allowed the steel to pierce inches into the demon’s solid cranium. It attempted to retreat, but the blade kept the ant anchored.

  Getting his butt under him, Josh pushed harder and drove the blade deeper and deeper with jerking shoves, spreading his legs to avoid the gunk that leaked from the penetrated head.

  Each thrust calmed the beast more until it finally settled on the ground as if drowsy. A few struggling huffs, and then exhaled its last breath.

  Josh waited a beat, making sure the massive head remained still, before he scooted away and removed the blade with a hard tug.

  Rising, he examined the flesh above his ankle. A dime-sized puncture dribbled blood. Adrenaline anesthetized him, but from the depth of the wound, he knew his future would involve a week of tenderness. Rather than dampen his spirits, the wound invigorated him. It marked him as a champion.

  Before looking to Artemis, who no doubt would be silently brooding “the risk” Josh took, Josh moved closer and admired his kill.

  “Get back,” Artemis yelled. “Move away you fool!”

  Before Josh could scoff, a mist—part gas, part liquid—exploded from the entirety of the ant’s exoskeleton, engulfing Josh in a foul-smelling cloud so intense he dropped the scimitar.

  Covering his face with both hands, he stumbled a few paces away, wiped his eyes, coughed, and spit.

  As if standing was too much, he dropped to his knees. Using soil, he scrubbed at his face.

  The mist had soaked the dirt so he crawled away in search of clean dirt, clean air.

  The discharge had an adhesive quality, it stuck all over his body. While he worked to scrub it from his front, the spray was raining down on his back.

  The death mist was so pervasive that he felt like a soldier wearing a faulty gas mask.

  After enough coughing to make his throat hoarse and spitting to leave it dry, he forced his eyes open and breathed through his nose. Feeling he had survived the worst of it, and created enough distance. He stumbled another ten feet from the epicenter.

  “Are you injured?” Artemis spoke softly from twenty feet away.

  Through squinted eyes, Josh checked himself. His side was red and bleeding, though nothing appeared deeper than a healthy scratch. He swiveled his right shoulder and felt the onset of deep bruising near his shoulder blade.

  “I’m okay,” Josh said to Artemis, who didn’t appear to have heard him. He had already resumed his extreme caution, holding the salca in both hands, remaining crouched and scanning their surroundings.

  This guy doesn’t quit, thought Josh. The demon lay dead in front of him. Sure, he’d been coated in ant viscera, but no alarms had sounded. The jungle had already returned to silence.

  Using fingers to dig sludge out his hair, and wiping himself, Josh removed the sticky soil a little at a time. Dirt had mixed with the fluid and turned it into a sludge-like clay that covered him. That, plus the lingering stench had Josh shaking his head in disgust. His nose burned and his throat felt as if he had swallowed a box of steel wool. Being the test subject for a dozen brands of mace wouldn’t
produce this much irritation.

  “Do you have water with you?” Josh asked.

  “Quiet!” Artemis snapped.

  Josh hadn’t yelled. Perhaps he spoke above a normal tone, but that was to be expected when covered in demonic sharts.

  “I need to splash some water in my eyes,” Josh said a bit quieter. He would hold his head under a stream of urine if advised of its benefit.

  Artemis glanced at him reproachfully, then returned to surveying the jungle through the dissipating fog of the ant explosion. “We must go, now. Get your weapon. I need a moment to gain our position.”

  Through fuzzy vision, Josh searched the perimeter. He didn’t know how acute Artemis’ hearing was, but it wasn’t as good as Josh’s. Using all the focus he could muster, he heard a distant hum of electricity from the overhead lights. The swish and bend of canopy leaves rubbing together as the air circulated.

  Nothing threatened them, so this guy’s paranoia elevated Josh’s annoyance to a boiling point.

  His guide just witnessed what would happen should they come across another ant: Josh would kill it. Much faster the second time, and he would stay a safe distance from the death stink bomb.

  “Hand me the water.”

  “Quiet, you fool.”

  “There’s no reason to talk to me-”

  Before Josh could be properly indignant, he heard the snap of dried wood and turned toward the sound.

  Then the smack of green vegetation behind him.

  He heard even more rustling to his left and pivoted.

  Pounding strides and displaced plants.

  Spinning to face each new sound, Josh realized that every noise was converging on them. When he faced the closest sound, a dark shape solidified. A wide, armored bull emerged from the greenery and paused in the open field. Chitters of alien rage filled the air as its head swiveled, taking in the scents.

  This ant stood a foot taller, wider, and appeared much angrier than his dead brother.

  Realizing Josh stood weaponless, he spun frantically and spotted the scimitar. Before he could bolt for it, the demon charged.