by Jason Letts
The look on the attendant’s face told him all he needed to know. The time for him to jump had come.
“Hey, Taylor,” Randall shouted, kicking him as the attendant pushed Randall toward the front of the plane. His half-brother awoke and sat up, his thick brown hair matted into a funny shape. Randall tried to stall, but the attendant was insistent, probably because it would cost Randall his life if he were caught on the plane when it landed. He’d barely escaped Cumeria with his life, and he knew the Guard was still looking for him.
“Show them what you’re made of,” Taylor said as the hatch opened and vast stretches of green, blue, and brown water whisked by below. The jump would be hard, but not so hard as what Taylor had coming. Randall regarded him as if it would be for the last time.
“Keep your head on your shoulders, Taylor,” Randall said, feeling a hand pressed against his back. Randall had his bag over his shoulder, but the murky water would likely ruin everything. The plane was slowing down, the pressure on his back increased, and there was nothing to do but step off the open edge.
The drop only lasted a moment, but it was long enough for Randall to turn his head and see the plane veering for the runway and Ristle’s airport. Then Randall’s feet broke the surface of the swamp water, and he plunged into something he might never climb out of.
CHAPTER 5
After spending ten hours of complete darkness crawling on her hands and knees through the harsh terrain of the Plagrass Wilds, Sierra regretted ever having the stupid idea of venturing out to find the lair of Nemi and the dragons. After thirty hours of not being able to see her dirt-caked hands in front of her face, her former life working in Ralph Fiori’s law firm seemed like nothing more than a bizarre fantasy that couldn’t have actually happened. After sixty hours, Sierra believed herself to be more animal than human and resigned herself to a lifetime wallowing in this never-ending sandpit.
At eighty hours, Sierra heard the calls of one of the ravenous nomadic tribes, which put a dark note of fear within her.
Plagrass was not known for its dense cloud cover; in all the time she’d been in Madora, there hadn’t been a night when the starlight didn’t provide at least some visibility. Now the clouds sealed them in a vacuum of light that went unbroken until a harsh roar alerted them to something ahead and to the left: a saurus with bioluminescent tentacles shining a ray of light onto a group of wily hunters wielding spears and swords.
Sierra gasped when she felt something clamp down on her arm. It was Razi, and her brief squeeze was fraught with a sense of panic. The saurus’s lights flickered on and off, but the hunters’ shouts were incessant. Every successive glimpse revealed more blood on the weapons. The light shifted as the great beast charged and swung its tail, but the tools of man were too much and eventually a crash shook the ground, announcing the kill.
A red flame bloomed just beside the felled creature, but none of the hunters stuck around to monitor it. The flame was a beacon for the tribe, who would be coming this way. The men fanned out in search of additional prey. The hunt was just beginning, and Sierra was deep in the kill zone.
A flurry of whispers between Razi, Maglum, and Hinkalo caught Sierra’s ears, but she couldn’t understand a word of it. When the donkey grunted, she knew having it nearby would give them away to the hunters. Dealing with the donkey and the cart had been part of the reason travel had gone so slowly. The big wooden wheels were tough to maneuver around rocks of unknown size and shape. Now it looked like they’d have to abandon the donkey and the majority of their supplies to maintain the quiet. In perfect darkness, silence was a weapon.
The group filled their pockets and canteens. Sierra felt something slip around her waist. It was a rope, and Razi tied it and wrapped the other end around herself. Razi also gave her a long knife from her pack that Sierra set into a loop on the outside of her thigh. When the rope tugged, it was time to move. They left the donkey behind. At best it would be a distraction for the hunters. At worst it would try to follow them.
The group snuck away so quietly that even the donkey might not have noticed. The fire crackled in the distance and the hunters could’ve been anywhere, but already Sierra was afraid to breathe. She’d heard tales of the hill tribes in the Wilds. Some were known for wearing other people’s skin and eating the meat. If they weren’t going to kill a victim right away, they’d sever the legs to make sure he or she couldn’t run away.
Staying low to the ground, Sierra followed the rope around boulders and sparse brush. Already the air smelled different, worse. The stink of the hunters unsettled her, making her think they were standing just feet away.
From the top of the short hill, they got a good view of the fire and the dead saurus. A dozen nomads were slicing it apart. A covered wagon was just in view. Some of these tribes numbered in the thousands, and there was no telling how many more people were going to be swarming into the area.
A cry from the donkey took to the air, as well as the clinking of steel. One of the hunters had found it, and it wouldn’t take them long to realize a donkey hauling a cart full of supplies didn’t come all this way by itself. The rope pulled hard, forcing Sierra’s shoes to crunch against the rocky ground.
They shuffled quickly off of the hill and soon broke into a run. At least with Razi ahead Sierra didn’t need to worry about smacking into anything, but they were still making more noise and less progress than she would’ve liked. How many miles away did they need to get before they were safe?
All of a sudden Nemi tensed on her shoulder, pinching uncomfortably. It was hard to tell what it meant, but Sierra tugged on the rope to slow Razi down. They ducked down and waited for a minute, Sierra struggling the whole while to get her breathing under control.
Nemi’s pinch became harder, so much so that his claws were piercing her skin. She put her forehead against the ground and opened her mouth to scream without making a sound. Something was coming. She looked up when a bolt of lightning ripped through the sky ahead, touching down right in the middle of the nomad camp. It set a wagon ablaze and sent sparks shooting into the sky.
The bolt also revealed one of the hunters, not ten feet away, who’d been sneaking up on them. He broke from his hiding position to sprint forward, steel blade in hand, when the flash ended and they were left to defend themselves in the darkness. The hunter hollered like a madman, Razi and her raiders shouted in return, and Nemi screeched and took to the air from Sierra’s shoulder. She withdrew the knife from the loop on her pants and held it out in front of her, having no idea where to aim it.
The sound of scraping metal and grunts came next as one of the raiders fought with the hunter. With all the noise, it’d be moments before dozens of them arrived, if Sierra’s foursome could hold out even that long. The fighting was so close, leaving Sierra with nothing to do but wave the knife about blindly. Something sprayed her in the face and forehead, and she was sure it was blood from one of her companions. It kept dripping onto her, dribbling down her cheeks and getting into her eyes and mouth.
After a moment Sierra realized it was rain, not blood, and the water was clattering against everything in this dry wasteland that probably didn’t see precipitation more than a few times a year. Lightning struck again, revealing Nemi sinking his teeth into the hunter’s neck and ripping out a bloody chunk of flesh. The flash gave them a glimpse of more hunters coming from the left as well as the scrambling camp, which raced to safeguard their possessions from the rain.
The hunters had something dire in their eyes that Sierra couldn’t understand. These people had no fear of death. Most likely they’d lived with it their entire lives, every day watching a friend or relative succumb to its never-yielding pull. If they didn’t go all out at each encounter, they would be the next to die. Sierra steeled herself not to wilt in the face of it, but the rope tugged and pulled her onward.
The tug of the rope never let up, and the foursome ran as fast as they could in a direction Sierra believed would take them to the north of the camp. T
he rain needed only a minute to drench them and the ground, making each step slick as the water collected into puddles and running streams. Nemi screeched and howled in a more aggressive way than Sierra had ever seen. She hadn’t known it before, but he seemed to be a fighter.
“Shitballs,” Sierra yelped when she took a step and her foot slid out from under her. In an instant she was facedown in the rocky mud, the rope dragging her body like a doll on a string. The splashing footsteps behind caught their attention, the rope slackened, and Sierra grasped that the group was about to make another frantic stand in the dark.
She managed to finally get her feet under her and remained crouched down low with the knife held out in front. Sierra could scarcely believe what she was doing. A few times before she’d caused the death of another human: Raidan, on the staircase; the guard she’d shot who undoubtedly had died because of it; and that psychotic Nissa underneath the intake valve of the power plant. But those were all people she’d had real grievances against. These nomads just seemed incapable of sharing the planet with any other living thing.
The first hunter rushed by to Sierra’s left and engaged one of the men. The sound caused another hunter to veer in their direction, and he ran straight into Sierra, knocking her back and falling on top of her. A quick twitch of her wrist told her the knife was buried in his stomach, but the man continued to squirm on top of her and press her into the water rushing around her head.
The man got an arm against her neck, forcing her head deeper into the muck. The water ran over her face, and when she tried to take a breath it filled her mouth and made her sputter. She struggled, trying to push as hard as she could to drive the knife deeper with one hand and push him off with the other. Her heart was racing and the need to breathe proved overwhelming.
The pressure on her neck receded when the knife finally finished the job and life seeped out of the man, but getting him off of her and keeping her face above water was still a challenge. Mustering her strength, she rolled against the current and then with it to build enough momentum to flip over. The water was ankle-deep, filthy, and running fast. Sierra kept a firm grip on the knife as she pushed the body down the slope. The water collected in a valley on the other side of the nomad camp.
Sierra got to her feet feeling flushed with rage. She continued to gasp for breath, but she already felt she was capable of anything. Lightning flashed again, revealing a torrent of water running down the slope ahead and Maglum trying to fight off a pair of hunters, one with a sword and the other with a spear. Without hesitating, she raced up behind the man with the spear and stabbed him in the back of the neck. As he fell, she pushed him against the other hunter, who was caught off guard and left defenseless. The huffing raider only needed one swing. The hunter’s head hit the water before his knees did.
But more were coming. The entire camp must’ve been in disarray, and there was no telling where would be safe when the floodwaters continued to rise.
“This way,” Sierra called to the others, hoping the sounds of Cumerian would draw them, if not the meaning of her words. They pushed on while Nemi’s screeches resulted in another attacker’s screams. The sound of churning water roared just ahead, and even in the dark they could catch glimpses of the flood gushing down the hillside.
If they waited, the hunters would eventually overrun them, but jumping into the water would actually take them closer to, if not straight across, the scrambled camp. A blindly running hunter made the choice for them when he ran straight into Razi, knocking her into the raging flood. The rope yanked around Sierra’s middle, sucking her off the edge.
“Liquid hell!” she yelped after sprawling out of control in the water, which varied from just a few feet deep to enough for her to be completely submerged. The current carried them on as they tried to get themselves under control. Another lightning bolt struck, thankfully not in the river, but it illuminated a jagged boulder that had collected some sharp wooden shards ahead. Sierra had only an instant to catch her feet on the bottom and dive to the left before getting run through.
Sounds of commotion ahead were the first indicator they were approaching the camp. The second was when a sharp drop, essentially a waterfall, tossed them down against the ground and gave them enough perspective to see a few raging fires fighting a losing battle against the rain while the nomads raced around to their tents, carts, and livestock.
The river raced through a section in the middle that looked like a minefield of debris. It came rushing at them fast because of the current, and before Sierra knew what hit her she was mashed against the exterior of a hut made of animal hide. Razi, Maglum, and Hinkalo were similarly caught, though a sharp cry made her aware that something had gotten Hinkalo.
The group crawled out of the water amid the chaos and saw that their companion had a slice along the length of his left arm. It was possibly a self-inflicted wound he had received while floundering in the water with his sword. The blood was getting everywhere, and if they didn’t do something about it, Hinkalo was unlikely to make it.
Amid the chaos of the disrupted camp, few seemed to pay them any attention. Those that did notice them had arms full of supplies they were anxious to carry away. Razi began searching the area, cutting into crates with her sword. A man rushed by carrying a woolen cloth, and Razi didn’t hesitate to confront him over it, hack it in half, and leave him running away with the rest.
It only took her a few minutes to wrap it around Hinkalo’s arm and tie it tightly, but he still appeared seriously injured. Truth be told, Sierra didn’t feel much better. She was jarred from being thrown around in the water, not to mention banged up, bruised, and waterlogged. But the rains continued to fall, the water raced down the slope, and there were still so many hours of darkness left.
Razi’s raiders began to argue about something when a flash of lightning gave them a clearer view of their surroundings, and Sierra got their attention quickly enough to point them to a cave on the other side of the valley where they could wait out the storm. In between, the collecting rainwater looked like a torrent washing everything away. More than one body floated facedown in it.
Although Sierra made a move to start the trek toward the cave, there was some disagreement among the others about what to do. Razi and Maglum were arguing while the sounds of collapsing tents and snapping boards echoed around. Sierra could sense that Hinkalo was near. He wasn’t moving much and didn’t seem to have any fight left in him.
When the rope shifted, it seemed the debate had ended in favor of leaving, though sounds of Maglum scrounging through nearby debris echoed in her ears. Sierra thought it was good they were moving. The water continued to pour down from above and sweep across every inch of the ground.
Before they made it out of the camp, a strange structure began to differentiate itself from the darkness. Some light, possibly from a fire came from within, but the whole thing was several feet above the ground.
Whether it was foresight about the rain or a way to keep away from the nasty Plagrass ants, the nomads had taken the time to set one building on steel stilts, and shadows against the animal hide exterior revealed a dozen or more people huddled inside. Someone stood at the entrance, immediately spotting them as they approached and shouting to the other inhabitants.
Three men and two women came out onto a small deck with bows in hand. The archers notched arrows and aimed directly at Sierra’s group, as if they were nothing more than a herd of animals. Unperturbed by the rain, they seemed to have complete confidence that they could make the shot.
The man at the entrance hopped onto the ground and came forward, looping around the side so the archers always had a clear shot. He shouted something and pointed at the ground. To Sierra’s surprise, Hinkalo dropped his sword and put up his hands. Perhaps it was a ploy to buy time, since there wasn’t much he could do with the weapon at the moment. The rest of them refused to follow suit, and one of the archers fired a warning shot just over their heads.
The man slunk closer, likely
intending to either strip them of the supplies they carried or bring them toward the raised tent. Sierra bit her lip and squinted, half to keep the rain out of her eyes and half to curse her horrible luck. All the time she’d spent studying statistics and computer programming—what good was it when staring at the tip of a razor-sharp arrowhead?
A subtle thunk got her attention, and she peered through the rain to the stilts below the tent, where Nemi was busy melting through the steel poles. She gasped when she saw tiny wings fluttering around before disappearing back into the darkness. Anxious to stall the archers long enough for Nemi to finish, Sierra slowly bent over and set her knife on the ground, nodding to the others to do the same.
Nemi severed another pole and then another, while the man came over and took Sierra by the arm. The next dispatched pole made the entire structure creak, catching the attention of the archers and the other tent inhabitants, all of who were suddenly alarmed that their foundation was about to give way.
The distraction was enough for Razi, who reached past Sierra to slam her fist into the face of the man. By the time the archers refocused their attention, Nemi had melted through another pole, causing the platform to shift suddenly. The arrows flew overhead yet again as the platform tipped back. Maglum had his sword in hand by then and raced forward to the tent, where a few more fighters were emerging onto the ground.
Weapons in hand, Sierra and Razi ran up behind him toward the fray. Razi shouted something out, causing Maglum to duck, and Sierra and Razi used the taut rope to clothesline several of the tribesmen. As the three of them reached the archers, Nemi finished the last pole, flapping out of the way as the front of the platform dropped to the surface. A couple of the archers lost their footing from the drop, but all were caught off guard when the entire platform began to slide down the slick, muddy hillside.
Razi and Maglum wrestled their way onto the surface, slicing through bow, arrow, and archer to make space. The platform began to slide faster, and Sierra still wasn’t on it. Riding the structure all the way to the river at the bottom of the valley and across seemed unlikely, but when Razi yanked the rope and pulled Sierra aboard, it was the only thing to hope for.