Obfuscate

by Killion Slade

  Painstakingly, we moved each palm frond and leafy blade as quietly as possible while we trudged deeper into the unknown. I found refuge by grabbing onto the ropelike vines choking the tree trunks. I prayed I wouldn’t accidentally grasp onto a snake instead of one of the tree vines, leaving it to coil around me like an appetizer.

  My hands slipped on the green moss growing on the thick vines. The moss slimed into a black, gooey substance, caking my hands in an oozy sludge almost to the point of not being able to hold on. I gathered wet leaves off the ground and tried to wipe it off.

  Lifting a palm frond leaf revealed a foot-long red and yellow centipede. It skittered across the back of my hand and up my arm. I smacked at the damn thing and we both fell to the ground. It reared on its hinged body to attack me. Eye to eye, its pincers opened and closed. I crab-walked away from the disgusting, alien creature and wondered if my odds might have been better back out in the water. The centipede stared at me, daring me to attack. It pinched its jaws closed and open several more times and then lowered itself back to the ground. I guess the creepy-crawly thought I was no longer a threat. My heart beat in relief when it skittered back under the leaves.

  Where was my keychain of mace, bug, grizzly, sunscreen, and rabid wild animal sprays when I needed it? If the critter had more than four legs, it was not a friend of mine.

  My skin shivered with heebie-jeebies as I began to scratch and slap at anything that didn’t feel normal. You would think a vampire wouldn’t care much about these kinds of nuisances, but dammit, I was still part human, and vampire or not, I still didn’t like bugs.

  Khaldon led the pack of us closer to the caves. I smacked an enormous mosquito biting my cheek. The monster bloodsucker reminded me of how Dakota appeared as a blood demon with her long, outstretched serpentine tongue. I hoped it wasn’t the kind of mosquito that carried the malaria virus, which killed hundreds of thousands of people each year. Suddenly, it wasn’t the cannibals I was afraid of, but the myriad tropical creepy-crawlies I had encountered.

  Can a vampire die from malaria?

  Up ahead, fire-lit torches surrounded the underground tunnels where Dakota had mind-messaged Ludovic she was held captive. We spread out, each searching for the best entrance. The faint rat-a-tat of nervous heartbeats pulsed around me. I was able to home in on each of the guys and feel their levels of calm. I could smell any hints of fear. I took a good whiff under my own arm and learned the only fear I sensed was my own. I was able to discern other heartbeats from the Rakshasa farther away. The natives seemed to have quiet rivers of blood pulsing under their skin, which gave me a false shred of hope we were safe to move forward.

  Khaldon whispered in my ear, “Torchy says it’s clear from his vantage point. He says most of the natives are on the far side of the island.”

  “Can Torchy talk to all of us?” I asked. “What if we get separated?”

  “Indeed, we should have thought about that earlier. I wish I could mind-message with you, but maybe that would get me in trouble.” He winked at me. “I’ll let him know you want to hear.” Khaldon squeezed my shoulders and offered a quiet reassurance in the tone of his voice. “Relax, love—we’re on task.”

  Torchy glided in stealth mode high above us to sustain our intel. I noticed his dragon scales were now non-reflective, and unless I knew to look for him, he was simply invisible. I nodded and advanced the message to Harris and Briggs. We crouched in a single-file formation and sprinted to the torch-lit entrance.

  At the bottom of the steps leading to the caverns, an arched opening cut into the volcanic rock. We gathered in a small alcove and assessed our situation. Torchy gave Khaldon another “all clear,” and we tentatively descended into the cave.

  Water crashed inside the cavern, echoing somewhere off the dank, moss-covered walls. The noise of the cascading water provided a solid cover from our echoing footsteps against the flagstone. However, the falls might also defeat our leverage since we wouldn’t be able to hear any of Amicula’s monsters coming up on us either. To give us as much advance warning as possible, I homed in on my hearing and tuned in for any unusual sounds.

  As we advanced three more steps, the putrid stench of sulfur curdled my desire for eggs anytime soon. The dense moisture soaked me as if I’d walked into a bacterial sauna bath. Since it was difficult to see through the steam, I reached out my hand to hold Khaldon’s satchel he had draped over his shoulders in order to maintain my sense of space. The heat escalated to nearly stifling degrees. Could we be in an underground waterfall? Or is that water boiling up from the volcano?

  A few more tentative steps in, and the heavy water vapor dissipated, leaving us with the unmistakable permeation of rotting flesh and ankle-deep water. The stench cloyed in my mouth as eidolons of past prisoners were reduced to macabre rag dolls, their rotting bodies hanging forgotten from the shackles.

  Something scurried over my foot as I squeaked out a scream. I cupped my hand over my mouth, hoping to stifle my nerves. Skittering paws rummaged around us.

  Unholy Hell. There had to be rats. Why didn’t we consider this?

  Red eyes peered out from behind the imprisoned, shackled bones hanging on the wall. I’m sure they were eagerly licking their lips to get a bite out of the fresh meat that had just waltzed into their haven. I took in a deep breath of the soured air, regretting it immediately.

  It’s okay. They’re much smaller than you and they have four legs. You can do this.

  I sipped in short breaths to keep from passing out. Thoughts of traversing an underground sewer system laden with rats made my skin crawl and reversed engines on my stomach.

  Oily torch lamps cast eerie shadows on the cracked, seeping black walls as we crept deeper into the island’s belly. We sloshed forward.

  Could the echoes against the cave walls make it sound like there were more critters?

  Maybe it’s only a few.

  My logic was discredited by the amount of little, glowing, beady demon rat eyes staring back at me. Something told me that was simply wishful thinking.

  My foot slipped sideways on something mushy and slimy, and I didn’t dare look to see if we were already walking in the cesspool of waste. Each tiny prison cell contained a table with a bucket and ladle of fetid water lined with scummy slime. Upon closer inspection, each bucket teamed with little creatures as though it had its own ecosystem.

  This cave of horrors was the real deal. The haunted houses at Global Studios Halloween Scream Nights in Orlando had nothing on this creepy island. Given I hadn’t yet gotten over my case of oldhouseophobia, this cavern proved to be the scariest place I’d ever encountered on the planet or in any virtual simulated environment.

  Resting against the side of the cave was a wooden staff about seven feet tall with a green glowing orb in it. I picked up the staff and inspected the intricate wooden carvings in the handle. As I moved the stick, the orb glowed brighter. We continued down the steamy hallway, but Dakota was nowhere in sight. I picked up on two very faint heartbeats.

  She had to be close.

  “Where is she?” I grabbed Ludovic by the shirt and hissed.

  His voice vibrated with uncertainty. “I … I’m not sure. I haven’t felt her presence since we landed.”

  I glared silver daggers at him.

  Briggs pushed him forward and raised his hand to strike.

  Sweating profusely, Ludovic flinched backward and raised his arms to shield his face.

  Khaldon held up his hand in the universal gesture for stop. He sliced his throat with his finger indicating everyone to calm down or he was going to let loose. He then moved his index finger in front of his lips and tilted his head toward the direction to keep moving.

  After the five of us exchanged heated glances, heads nodded and we set off again. About ten feet ahead of us, we turned a ninety-degree angle to the left, which led up a set of narrow stone stairs and out of the water. I was thankful to get out of the filthy slime, and my shoes sloshed with each step.

 
Khaldon immediately stopped and stiffened, and I ran into the back of him because I was shaking the water out of my boots. Ludovic bumped into me and I envisioned the rest of the team crashing into one another like a five-car pileup on the highway. Khaldon turned to face me and slowly exhaled. He fixed on me and reached out a hand, slowly walking us another three feet into an open cavern.

  Afraid to learn what was in front of us, I fiercely conjured up the courage to engage. I stumbled back a couple steps at the horrific sight.

  My knees instantly wobbled.

  Briggs cursed something in French and crossed himself.

  Ludovic outstretched his hand toward her. A gasp fled his throat.

  Harris bent to one knee, whispering a prayer, and kissed his Saint Francis medal.

  Pulses raced and hammered in my ears from everyone, including my own. Our heightened sensitivity solidified that the death scene in front of me was anything but a phantasm.

  Torch lights illuminated the cell. Dakota hung limp in chained manacles by her clawed hands and at the apex of her wings. Iron shackles had worn deep bruises around her neck. Leather straps at her waist and ankles further immobilized her with no chance of escape.

  Trying desperately to steady my legs, my body shook while my hands cleaved tighter onto Briggs and Khaldon’s shoulders. Intense, the odor of infection snapped my brain to attention.

  My vampy sense indicated she was alive, but her body was filled with pus and putrefaction. I slammed down my eyelids, praying the heat was causing hallucinations.

  Dakota’s head had sunk forward onto her chest. Her own heartbeats were very far apart and faint as a butterfly’s whisper. Her scarred back faced us. The distinct odor of smelted silver hung heavy in the air.

  My lips quivered as her name barely escaped. “Dakota?”

  Are we too late?

  Chapter Five

  Monsters! What did they do to her?

  My hands flew to my mouth as rivulets of bloody tears escaped over my cheeks. I gulped at the sight of Dakota’s emaciated body left to die in those iron restraints. Her once beautiful auburn hair hung limp in a matted rat’s nest. This scene was so far removed from the ever vivacious sister I’d known growing up.

  No amount of therapy will ever heal this. Dakota will never be the same.

  In the corner slumped the remains of what might have been Dakota’s last meal. By the appearance of his decomposing flesh, it looked like days had passed since she’d last fed. The rats busily ate what remained.

  Khaldon clutched my arms and steadied me. He whispered, “Cheyenne, we’ve found her.” He kissed me hard and fast on the forehead, releasing me with a look of worry I’d not seen before. His auric energy had changed. Khaldon was no longer calm and collected. His heart beat faster than I’d ever heard and he excreted a strange pheromone I’d not smelled on him before.

  What isn’t he telling me?

  Harris roughly held my left shoulder, grabbed my face by the chin, and forced me to look away from Dakota and straight into his eyes. “Deep breaths, Chey. Stick to the plan. Ludovic and Briggs will get her out of those chains.” He hugged me with the fierceness as though it could be our last. His heartbeat also ran a mile a minute. The fur on his arms had sprouted, and the nails on his fingers had elongated into sharp, black claws. “Keep calm. Stay vigilant. We’re taking her home.”

  The electricity in the air was palpable. I leaned the staff with the green glowing orb against the prison cell wall. Forcing down the contents of my stomach, I focused on the task at hand and tried to check my emotions at the door. “Can we get her out of this contraption without killing her?”

  Briggs moved quickly in front of Dakota but was careful not to touch her. He spoke in kind, gentle, and endearing terms in French that I couldn’t quite understand. I caught the words, mon cheri, je t'aime, and je suis désolé among the words he spoke quietly into her ear, and I knew his heart was aching as much as mine. He kissed her cheek and studied the iron chains. He removed the bolt cutters from his backpack and set out to free her.

  Harris handed me a second pistol he had tucked in behind his back. “Shh. Take this and pull the trigger on anything that isn’t us, okay?” It wasn’t until he handed me the gun that I realized how much my hands were shaking. I fumbled with the pistol, almost dropping it.

  “Be careful. The safety is off. Just point the red laser where you want the kill.” He unholstered his rifle from his shoulder strap and aimed for a rat crawling along the far wall. The red light shined on the fat rat’s belly.

  “Ok—kay.” I nodded and tried to swallow the thick bile congealing in the back of my throat. I pinched my lips closed with my teeth, biting back the emotion.

  Harris let go of my hands. Both he and Khaldon returned my worried glance as I watched them disappear down the corridor, searching for any other survivors.

  I shook my head and pushed the torrential terror deep down into the crevices of my mind. I had to turn off my emotions or I was going to fail.

  Stay strong for her. You can crumble to pieces later.

  Gun in my hand, I stood attentively for any Rakshasa while Briggs and Ludovic disconnected Dakota from her living prison. Stepping closer, little rat feet scampered away and ran across the room. I was tempted to shoot anything that moved, but didn’t want to cause any unnecessary sound.

  Briggs was making headway on cutting through a chain that suspended her wing.

  I held the gun at my side and brushed Dakota’s filthy hair away from her ear with my right hand.

  Gently, I touched her. “Dakota. Sweetie. It’s me, Cheyenne.” I steadied my voice as it croaked with hoarse words. “Stay calm. We’re getting you out of here.”

  Her hair was a tangled, gnarled mess around the buckled clasps of a mask fastened behind her head. The face mask reminded me of the one Hannibal Lecter wore. If she were this far gone, could she become disoriented and think we were the bad guys? Remembering the deadly damage Dakota inflicted with her tongue, I thought better to leave the muzzle on.

  Dakota’s entire frame shuddered with each breath, enticing consciousness back into her physical body. Incoherent mumbling, she tried to form words. From the crooks of her elbows, festering wounds oozed where rubber tubes had been inserted. The plastic tubes dripped her blood into jars on the floor.

  They’re draining her?

  Ludovic gingerly removed the blood shunts, and she pulled away wincing. I pulled the other end of the hose and removed it from the jar.

  A loud cracking sound echoed down the hall, possibly an old, rusty-hinged door opened.

  I turned, held up the gun, and tried in vain to keep a steady aim. The red laser light bounced against the wall, reminiscent of playing catch the red dot with a cat. Not sure if a nest of them had been disturbed, more rodents scurried about the floor and along the walls. Some even crawled up on the iron bars of the cell and swung on the door. We stared at one another for a brief moment and then resumed our work.

  Briggs cut the manacles with the bolt cutters, releasing one side from the wall. After laying the gun on the floor, I helped ease her right wing down to her side. Dakota was covered in layers of mildew and crud. She groaned with ache as she folded the other wing up into her torso. Her arm hung limp by her side. Her muscles twitched and spasmed with the movement. How long had she been suspended?

  Down the hall where Harris and Khaldon had disappeared, chains rattled. It sounded like chairs scooted across the floor. They must have been closer than I’d perceived.

  My fingers slimed over incongruent bumps under her skin. The goo sloughed off onto my fingers in a mucousy mass. The fevered, viscous feel to her skin stung and I immediately wipe the ick on my pants. I wriggled my fingers to shake off the tingling sensation.

  What is on her skin? Is she growing poisonous dragon scales?

  “Go away. There’s no escape,” Dakota hissed in her demonic voice.

  I jumped at her words and then breathed a sigh of relief that she was conscious.

>   “Shh. Stay quiet. It’s okay—we’re getting you out.” I whispered in her ear. “Stay calm. We’re flying out of here.” I picked up the jar of her blood and tried to close the rusty cap onto the rim.

  “What’s this?” I held up an ornate key hanging on a chain around her waist. It held an evil eye encrusted in the blood, daring me to use it. It glowed the same green as the orb in the staff, and I sensed the alluring relic had some mystical energy. My hand seemed overtaken by a cryptic pull beckoning me to insert and turn the ornate bobble. Straight away my gut told me not to fall for the trap. I lowered the key closer to my side.

  Ludovic stepped closer to Dakota and snatched it from my hand. “Give me that!”

  “Wait, Ludovic, stop. This is too easy. Somethings not right.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Time is of the essence, vrăjitoare.”

  Briggs stopped his cutting and stared Ludovic straight into his eyes. “Did you call ’er a witch?”

  Ludovic challenged Briggs’ eyes and ignored his question.

  He called me a witch?

  Before I finished my protestations, Ludovic inserted the ornate key. The lock clicked, unlatched, and released four chains holding together a hanging metal cage around Dakota’s torso. The chains fell to the floor in heavy thuds, but the metal cage had embedded into her skin.

  Ludovic moved in closer examining how to remove the cage, but his left foot stepped on something with a loud crunch. Immediately, a resonant series of clicking echoed off the walls of the cell.

  “What was that?” Briggs asked as he smacked an unusually large critter crawling toward his leg.

  Ludovic stood frozen. His lips thinned and whitened. Stepping backward, he cleared away the tangle of chains and filthy straw, revealing a small, crushed wooden box with wires running out of it and up her leg.

  Dakota’s heartbeat sped up.

  My mind tried to reconcile what I’d seen against what my ears registered.

  “Hurts—trap,” Dakota grunted a pained wheeze. “Not what you think.”

  My eyes closed in defeated understanding. She was wired!