Hunters - Rising

by David Greer

  Chapter 16

  Slothern stinks. The woods were as uncomfortable the second time as it was the first time. Low hanging trees, always having to be aware of which rocks are actually rocks and which ones were rump-biting beasts, and the ground always seemed to be a little moist. Grimey was beginning to tire of the journey. His longing for home had turned into a deep annoyance for the woods.

  And now it stank, literally. Really bad. It smelled so bad Grimey wished he had a thicker beard so he could suffocate himself. Kane walked slumped over in sensory defeat and Leo wore a face of nausea.

  The odor made a home in their nostrils suddenly and rapidly and grew more foul with each step. It invaded and harassed them. Grimey was bewildered. Never had he smelled anything so foul.

  “We're being stalked.” Leo groaned. “Stone stools aren't the only things in these woods.” The islander's face turned a shade of green having caught a taste of the air in his mouth. He resisted the urge to loosen his stomach and continued to trudge along the pathway.

  They didn't get much farther when Grimey heard a rustling in the trees above. Before he could look up a large creature dropped down and landed mere inches in front of him. The bearded hunter, with his senses dulled from the odorous assault, lazily hopped back after the creature had already landed.

  Grimey raised his eyes slightly to take a look at the newcomer. It was large, had a thick coat of dirty brown matted fur, and two large eyes that seemed to be forever unfocused. Those eyes were spaced too wide apart on a head too wide for the lanky neck holding it up. Its arms were long and hung low to the ground. Dirty, cracked, curved nails scraped the dirt. The creature had landed on its rump with its stumpy legs sprawled in front and hadn't moved. It was fat and it smelled excruciatingly bad. This thing was clearly the source of air pollution.

  “It's a sloth.” Leo managed to groan between gasps.

  The sloth slowly rocked forward and lazily reached for Grimey. Its arm was long enough to reach the bearded hunter but it would have to move quicker than a slug in wet sand to have any chance of touching him. Grimey, with a hand covering his nose and mouth, simply stepped back out of the creature's range.

  Kane reached for his spear. The foul monster raised both arms in the air and let out a deep bellow. The odor that was released from its underarms and breath overpowered the muscular islander and Kane fell to one knee covering his face with his arms. Leo could no longer hold it down and sprawled into a nearby shrub. Their senses had succumbed to the sloth's filth. Grimey, however, felt differently. The rank foulness pushed him back several steps but he wasn't about to kneel to some filthy monster of the woods too lazy to properly swipe at him. Although his eyes watered and burned from the horrid stench, the bearded hunter's anger spurred him on. He drew his axe and charged. The sloth bellowed again sending a wave of putrid funk toward the hunter. Grimey held his breath, lunged, and swung away.

  It didn't smell any better dead than alive but at least it couldn't aim the odor at the hunters anymore. Leo and Kane slowly struggled to their feet still covering their noses. Leo wore a face of defeat colored with shades of green. He breathed as though he took a blow to the stomach and walked with a limp. All three hunters hobbled away from the sloth's corpse grateful as the air grew more breathable with each step.

  At late afternoon the following day the three hunters arrived at Quarry. Soon the many stone-workers Grimey often worked alongside of would begin their daily migration from Quarry Mountain back to their homes.

  “Good to be home isn't it lads?” Grimey said. He glanced sideways at Leo and Kane realizing they didn't share his sentiment. But he didn't care. Leo, however did. The islander sensed Grimey would not easily leave his home to journey north with them. It would be a much longer trip than Port, and much more dangerous. It would take more than piquing Grimey's curiosity to get him to come along. And Leo had a sense that Grimey would be needed.

  “Perhaps we'll stay for a few days before we head out.” Leo said. “I've always liked this town.”

  Leo let the words hang for a moment and he could see the subtle change in Grimey's expression. The bearded hunter understood the hidden meaning.

  He didn't want to talk about it though. He just got home and didn't want to think about leaving again. Not just yet. “Tell you what Leo -” Grimey began but his words were interrupted by shouting.

  Scully was running towards them frantically waving his arms and shouting. The young hunter had his bow slung over his shoulders and his daggers holstered at his belt. Something wasn't right.

  “Thank goodness you came back. Deadlings!” Scully said between gasps of air. “A whole pack of them. Small ones. And large ones. Attacking from the northwestern woods. Oh and welcome back!”

  He didn't need to hear any more. Grimey took off running, Scully followed. They were out of sight in mere moments. Leo nodded at Kane. The muscular hunter drew his spear and the two islanders followed.

  It looked like a pack of small, wide-eyed, furry white bunnies with bad attitudes bent on gnawing ankles off. They charged out of the woods. Mixed in with the adorable pack of ankle-biters were the larger, much uglier beasts that could bite off heads. Dozens of deadlings, small and large, had emerged from the treeline and encroached upon the grassy field near Quarry's trade pavilion.

  Also on the field were Clyde and Smythe fighting to hold them off. Smythe, who had taken the forward position, cut down the small monsters with his sword, hacking and slashing two or three at a time. Occasionally a deadling would get at the hunter's ankle but would be quickly shaken off and punted away. Clyde hung back and sent arrows into the larger beasts to slow their lumbering advance. Not only were they uglier than their smaller counterparts, they were slower and clumsier too. He aimed for their legs and ribs. Some would topple over after being peppered with several arrows while others continued to limp their way closer to Smythe.

  The two hunters were fighting well but slowly losing ground. Smythe was forced to back up as larger deadlings got near. Eventually, the two would get pushed back far enough that the pack of deadlings would make it beyond the pavilion and into the town streets where they could disperse and be really difficult to hunt down. The townspeople would have to bar themselves indoors while the hunters tracked down and killed each deadling. Warning the town and getting everybody indoors never goes smoothly either. Panic ensues and havoc has a way of slowing things down despite how frantically people move. Casualties would be inevitable. The hunters needed to push the deadlings back into the woods or kill them all while they were still in open ground.

  Two larger deadlings emerged from the treeline and broke into a gallop aimed directly at Smythe. The hunter was busy with a swarm of small deadlings and never noticed the large ones coming his way. Clyde sent arrow after arrow targeting one of the large deadlings. His first arrow stuck into the beast's thigh. It stumbled but kept pushing forward. The next arrow landed in its ribs but Clyde's recurve bow didn't have enough power to penetrate deep into the large monster's hide. Again the beast stumbled but kept lumbering forward. Clyde's third arrow missed. He worked as quickly as he could to nock another arrow and sent it flying. It landed in the beast's ribs. The third wound was too much and the large dingy monster fell.

  The second deadling, however, would be on top of Smythe in moments. Clyde nocked another arrow. There was only enough time for a single shot. It would have to be fatal, which would not be easy given the distance and speed at which the deadling was moving. Aiming at the deadling's neck, Clyde would have to carefully place an arrow that would puncture through to the monster's vertebrae and break its neck or sever a major artery. He exhaled and let the arrow fly. It sailed through the air and struck the deadling. The beast staggered and slowed but continued to press on. The arrow struck its side just above the front leg. It would be on top of Smythe, who was still dealing with a pack of ankle-biters and hadn't noticed the larger beast, before Clyde could take another shot.

  Clyde was about about to shout a warning whe
n he heard heavy footsteps approaching. A large blur thundered by.

  “Watch out lad!” Grimey shouted as he heaved a hatchet at the charging deadling. The hatchet landed hard in the beast's neck. It crashed lifeless onto the ground mere feet away from Smythe, who gave a quick nod of thanks and went back to hacking away at the swarm of ankle-biters.

  Grimey kept on running. He bypassed the smaller deadlings and went straight for the large ones further across the field. In mid-stride he drew his axe, tightened his grip, and raised the blade to strike. With a horizontal slash he split the face of one beast, transitioned to an overhead slash and brought his blade down on the skull of another. One charge, two beasts dead. And Grimey was only getting started.

  The bearded hunter didn't let his axe rest. It became a whirling blade of death for any beast, large or small, that came near it. The weapon had enough distance to strike larger deadlings while keeping their jaws out of range and a wide sweep could take out half a dozen small deadlings if they were unfortunate enough to get close.

  Scully joined Clyde and both archers sent arrows flying toward the larger deadlings that maneuvered toward Smythe. With all four hunters in the mix the deadlings' numbers quickly dwindled. Grimey had taken out four large deadlings. The rest of the dingy beasts hesitated and began backing off. They may be monsters but they weren't completely mindless. The hunters were pushing the monsters back into the woods and were close to claiming victory. That is until a huge wave of deadlings emerged from the treeline. Dozens more poured onto the grass field and charged for the hunters. Scully hesitated at the sight. Clyde wiped beads of sweat from his brow and reached for another arrow.

  Grimey saw the wave of deadlings. He clenched his teeth, tightened his grip on his axe, and charged at the beasts. Once again his blade went to work. Scully watched in awe at the bearded hunter's ferocity. Grimey smashed through the first deadling he met and then left another dead on the ground. However his advance was stifled when the large beasts encircled him. Grimey had to go on the defensive and used the length of his axe to keep the beasts at bay.

  Smythe kept working on the smaller deadlings, which for some reason all flocked to him. The ankle-biters swarmed in numbers but weren't able to topple the hunter. Smythe kept his sword moving and kicked away any rabid fur balls that got close. Scully and Clyde provided cover fire by launching arrows at the larger beasts that turned in Smythe's direction.

  Their strategy was good. Smythe and Grimey fought close-range with their blades while the archers kept their distance. But the deadlings were too great in number and Clyde was running low on arrows. The hunters began to lose ground again and Grimey was on the defensive. He hadn't killed a deadling in several minutes. No less than three large deadlings constantly surrounded the bearded hunter with snapping jaws and swiping forelegs. With agility rare for a man his size, he evaded every attack and countered with his axe. However, the counter strikes only managed to back up the beasts and occasionally slice open a small gash. It was not sufficient enough to deliver a fatal blow. Eventually he would tire. Eventually all the hunters would tire.

  Watching the scene develop, Scully filled with worry. Then he felt a presence next to him and from the corner of his eye he saw that Leo had joined them.

  “Keep covering Smythe.” The islander said to the young hunter. “Clyde, conserve your arrows. Double up on the large ones if they get near Smythe. Kane, get in there.”

  The muscular hunter, who Scully had not noticed was standing just behind them, charged into the melee with his spear in hand. The weapon was ideal for handling the larger deadlings. It had plenty of range and could deliver a lethal thrust while maintaining a safe distance. Once in the fray he thrust his spear into a large deadling's neck then turned to face four more. He lunged and thrust his spearhead into the neck of another deadling while the other three moved to encircled him. Kane used his spear to keep his distance and was able to get a stab in here and there but, much like Grimey, he could only keep the beasts at bay once surrounded. More deadlings joined the fray and Kane was now fending off six of the sallow monsters.

  “They've surrounded him. He needs help!” Scully cried. The young hunter aimed his bow at the crowd of deadlings but a hand gently guided his bow back toward where Smythe was.

  “Easy young one.” Leo said. “He's just herding them for me.”

  Only then did Scully notice it. Not an ounce of worry was present on either Leo or Kane's face. Kane dodged their bites and backpedaled, then circled and swung his spear causing the deadlings to move sideways to avoid the strike. This repeated over and over. Kane moved in a spiral pattern and corralled the deadlings so the majority of the monsters were between he and Leo.

  It only took a few moments for the dance to unfold and Leo swiftly reached for the massive longbow slung over his shoulder. In the same fluid movement he took an arrow from his quiver between two fingers and nocked it on the bowstring. He moved with a grace unseen to Scully's young eyes. It was as though the bow was an extension of Leo's very being.

  This was also the first time Scully got a good look at Leo's longbow. It was much larger than the recurve bows he and Clyde used. Even the arrows were thicker, longer, and made of more durable wood. The draw weight of Leo's longbow combined with larger bolts packed enough of a punch to put down a large deadling in a single shot and Leo did not hesitate to take advantage of this. Three arrows were let loose from the longbow in as many seconds and in the blink of an eye three deadlings fell dead. Scully watched in amazement as Leo calmly picked his targets. With each thwack of the longbow an adult deadling fell. Within moments there were no more deadlings surrounding Kane. Leo didn't miss a single shot.

  Grimey had unknowingly put himself in the same position Kane had. The bearded hunter was surrounded by deadlings but the majority of the beasts were between him and Leo. He held them off with large sweeping arcs of his axe occasionally having to sidestep away from a set of jaws. He was still able to draw blood every now and then but, as before, none of the attacks were fatal. However, he knew he was slowly chipping away at the monsters. Each deadling surrounding him wore bloody cuts. Grimey no longer worried about tiring out for he was confident that the monsters would bleed out before he slowed from fatigue. Just a matter of time and careful patience. Eventually they would slow enough so one aggressive charge would finish them off.

  But he wouldn't need to wait.

  From somewhere in the distance three loud thwacks in rapid succession rang out and large arrows sprouted from three deadlings. They fell leaving only one standing. Grimey took the opportunity and lunged, abandoning all caution. His axe made quick work of the dingy beast. Across the field Leo checked himself just in time to keep the fourth arrow on his bowstring. He anticipated Grimey's aggression and slowed his fourth shot. Good thing too because the speed at which Grimey moved would have put him in the arrow's path.

  Leo's bow made quick work of the large deadlings. He fired two or three arrows at a time then moved to a better position, steadily circling the melee. Grimey and Kane maneuvered themselves to stand back-to-back and were able to fight the larger deadlings one-on-one. Much easier than taking on several at a time and with the two of them together the deadlings wouldn't be able to envelope them so easily. Meanwhile Smythe had taken care of the majority of the smaller ankle-biters with the help of Clyde and Scully.

  The number of deadlings quickly dwindled. The small ankle-biters had scattered back into the woods. The larger deadlings turned to retreat only to be met by a volley of arrows. By this time Leo had positioned himself between the fray and the treeline in anticipation of the monster's retreat. Deadling after deadling fell until only one remained. It bared its teeth and charged straight for Leo. The islander set his bow on the ground and reached for the elegantly curved sword at his hip. He crouched low, his hand hovering just above the hilt as the beast closed the distance.

  It was over in an instant. All Grimey saw was a blur of movement and a flash of silver. The next thing he saw w
as Leo standing over the beast's head. The rest of its body was several feet away, awkwardly collapsed on the ground. The curved blade of Leo's sword gleamed in the sunlight. It didn't have a single drop of blood on it. Leo sheathed his sword, gathered up his bow, and calmly walked back toward the others.

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