by Dante King
I grunted as I punched clean through the wall and grabbed a fistful of vrak-junk. I hadn’t been sure that was where they kept their bits, but the high-pitched squeal told me that what I had in my hand was 100% pure vrak tenderloin. Oh, and would it be tender.
I pulled hard, and the whole sheet of iron came loose with a single haul backward. I’d wanted to pull the slave owner through the wall, but this was good enough. I still held him by his junk, so I dropped him and pulled the iron wall off my arm.
I hadn’t made a lot of noise, and the vrak slaver sounded like he was trying to breath through a straw. I took one look at him and considered sparing his life for half a second before I approached him.
“Human fool will die,” he managed to say as he clutched his mangled junk.
“Not by your hands,” I said as I lifted a foot above his head. “Or your whip.”
I slammed my foot down, and the slaver wasn’t fast enough to avoid my boot. His skull popped against the ground as his limbs made a final twitch.
“Take my hand,” I said, taking a step toward the woman inside the hut.
Her face was hidden in shadow despite the small fire burning in the middle of the hut under a cooking pot. She took my offered hand, tried to stand, and gasped in pain. I offered her my other hand, but before she could take it, another alien called from the adjoining hut.
“Slave, stop making noise! I am needing to sleep!”
I scooped her up and tossed her over my shoulder as carefully as I could. She gasped but didn’t fight back. She felt light, thin, and frail.
I ran toward the jungle, abandoning stealth, hoping speed would get us out of trouble. Skrew was beside a tree, motioning to me in some kind of weird sign-language I couldn’t understand.
“What?” I asked once I’d reached him.
“Guards! They are coming. Mean Cobble is Chief of Guards. And Jacob splattered his brains. Guards are coming!” Then he looked up at the woman I held over my shoulder, gagged, and scampered deeper into the woods.
I followed the sprinting vrak, trusting him to lead us somewhere safe or somewhere defensible at least.
We ran headlong into the dark and cut through a stream a few times in hopes that the guards lose our tracks. Vines, brambles, and more than one sky-spider attempted to accost us along the way. I could have gone on for another hour, maybe two, but Skrew reached a point where he could barely walk.
We paused in an oblong clearing about seven yards wide. The ground was soft, but rocks poked through here and there. The tree branches were low enough to climb, but I wouldn’t be climbing any that night. I’d be fighting, and I’d win, or I’d die. Either way, I would not release the woman back into slavery. It wasn’t clear if she was Martian, Terran, or something else entirely. But she was close enough to my own species that I didn’t care. I didn’t know how many years she had left, but I’d make sure she got to count all of them as a free person.
I lifted her from my shoulder and placed her as gently as possible into the highest branch I could reach. She wrapped one arm around the trunk of the tree and curled her legs around the branch she was sitting on.
“Stay there,” I whispered. “No matter what happens, stay there and stay quiet. Do you understand?”
She nodded as her wide eyes stared at me from under her hood.
I turned around, looking for Skrew, and caught sight of him scaling another tree. He was clumsy, but so long as he didn’t fall and break his neck, I wouldn’t be out of a guide.
White pinpoints of light drew near and moved with purpose. It seemed the guards knew exactly where we were. I wondered how they’d followed us and suspected they had a sense of smell like a canine. There were enough of them that even with our attempts to lose them, they still could have tracked us.
The lights came closer, sparkling like distant stars through the trees, vines, and other vegetation. The woman shifted a little, and I looked over my shoulder. She was staring straight at me, but there was no sign of fear or sound of whimpering. She was strong.
I’d saved her, but I’d also just hamstrung myself. I’d taken on a responsibility that would hinder my ability to survive.
I taught my students that survival was the first priority. The second priority was helping the others in their unit survive. If they ever mixed those two up—started watching out for others before themselves—both they and their fellow squadmates were likely to die.
Likewise, lifeguards were trained to subdue drowning people; otherwise, they could be dragged beneath the water themselves. If that happened, both would die, all because the professional worried about the other person more than themselves. The same was true in survival… and I’d broken the rule.
Why? Had the Lakunae done something to my mind? No, that couldn’t be it. Freeing Skrew and rescuing the woman had been my own choice, not a foreign motivation implanted in my mind by the squids.
The first guard emerged into the small clearing holding one of the torches. The light source restricted my night vision and made it almost impossible to make out my enemies. When another, then two more, and what looked like 10 more, emerged, the light had me completely blinded. So, I quit relying on my eyes, closed them, and listened.
“You,” a guard growled, “have committed high crime. You have invited torture, pain, and death. Surrender now and return slave to me.”
It seemed that barely intelligible words wasn’t a trait of their species. I figured Skrew’s namesake might have actually had some truth to it.
I understood their language well enough, so I searched for the most insulting word I could think of. When I found it, I displayed one finger on each hand and spat the word in the direction of the threatening voice. I must have picked the right one because there were gasps from the other guards before several of them charged.
I listened as time seemed to slow. I knew how tall their kind were. I knew how long their strides were.
One step. They’d be close, but not close enough.
Two steps. Close, but just a little bit closer.
Just before the third step landed, I dropped to the ground and swept out hard with my foot. I felt three impacts, heard bones snap, and allowed the sweep to spin me all the way around until I was back on my feet. I opened my eyes and found three vrak casualties screaming on the ground, clutching their broken legs.
It was a good start.
The lights threatened to blind me as I picked a screaming guard up by his head and tossed him toward one of the torches. There was a wet thump as the guard I’d thrown collided with one of his friends. A torch spun twice in the air and fell to the ground. The light wasn’t so blinding now that I’d neutralized four vraks carrying torches.
I snatched another screaming guard at my feet just as I heard the ominous whir of capacitors charging. They’d brought a rifle. Maybe more than one. Instead of tossing the guard, I used him as a meat-shield and charged toward the sound of death.
A guard with a rifle fired a panicked shot over my head, barely missing his comrade in front of me. The next time, they met was a bone-crunching reunion.
Another rifle-wielding guard didn’t start charging it until I’d killed the first one. His fault, not mine. He was hiding behind a nearby trunk, so I pushed hard against the tree, and it gave way under my newfound strength. His torch flickered out as the weight of the trunk turned his skeleton into mulch.
Another vrak charged me with claws so long they could have been knives. He swung his taloned hand in a wide arc. I caught his wrist, stopping his attack mid-swing. I used his hand to play the old “quit punching yourself” game. His talons raked over his own face, and the guard went down in a heap. His face looked like a pizza someone had beaten to death with a bicycle chain.
I heard the old woman gasp and turned to see her standing on a lengthy branch. She was staring at me from beneath her hood. She probably thought I was some kind of monster, destroying these aliens with my bare hands, and I would have agreed. Except the Lakunae’s gift had just sav
ed our lives, and it would keep saving them until I dealt with every last one of these guards.
They hadn’t made another move. They were all watching me like the woman. They gestured and challenged each other to fight me. I’d taken out the only ones with rifles, and all they had now were long knives made of scrap metal.
Two guards finally took up the challenge and charged me, their shadows giving them away long before they could close the distance. I rolled backward and heard their knives cut the air above me before I landed on my feet.
One turned to face me. The other was looking up into the tree the old woman was hiding in.
“No!” I roared.
The first guard snarled at me as he held up a clawed hand. His tiny eyes widened when I went straight for him instead of trying to evade his filthy claws.
He stabbed straight at me, but I saw it coming, bent backward, allowed my feet to slide, and caught his arm with my hand. I kicked him in the stomach hard—too hard, I guessed. He shot backward like he’d just been ejected from a cannon. I stopped my slide with my heels and came cleanly to a standing position.
I hadn’t even broken a sweat. If I kept this up, I’d probably have to start worshipping the Lakunae like Colonel Goswin did.
Fat chance.
The other guard must have thought his comrade had killed me because he didn't even turn his head as I marched toward him. He harassed the old woman, taunting her with his knife-like claws. I focused my anger on the coward and charged. The guard froze, dropped his hands in act of submission, and whimpered. I almost felt bad for him… almost.
The guard squeaked when I grabbed his neck and lifted him from the ground. He gave up his plea for mercy and punched me with two of his fists. His other two were busy trying to loosen my fingers enough to breathe. I squeezed, watched his eyes bug out, and felt his spine crunch under his thick flesh.
I didn’t feel bad. Not even a little. This was my duty as a Martian.
Suddenly, the rest of the guards grew some balls. My guess was that since ones and twos didn’t work, they thought that an all-out attack would overpower me.
I waited. It was as though I could sense how far away they were. I could hear every footstep, every breath, and every foot stomping the undergrowth.
They were five paces away. I held my breath.
Four. My knuckles whitened as I clenched them into fists.
Three. I planted my feet, twisted my torso, and swung the dead vrak.
Rather than act as a baseball bat, the corpse’s body tore loose from its head. As I clutched the mangled skull in my hands, the body smashed into two of the guards. They were torn from their feet, and, before they could stand, I delivered two swift jabs that punctured their skulls.
With the corpse’s head still in my hand, I tossed it at a vrak who’d thought he could get me from behind. The head caught the surprised vrak square in his stomach, and it knocked him over like a pin in an old-fashioned bowling alley.
Four of the five remaining guards jumped on me and started climbing me like spider monkeys. I started tearing them off before one of them could sink a claw into me. I grabbed one in my left hand, and another in my right, before I smashed their heads together like a pair of coconuts. Well, I’d never actually seen coconuts except for in holovids, but their skulls certainly shattered like I’d seen in the movies.
I snatched another vrak by the head before he could drive his claws into my side. I pulled him apart like a piece of candy. His top half and bottom half came away in a shower of blood. The final vrak must have gotten the picture, because he unlatched himself from me and started to sprint away. I picked up a small stone, almost a third the size of my palm, and pulled my arm back. I closed one eye, took aim, and hurled it toward the fleeing vrak. The stone smashed into his spine and punched out the other side.
Who needed rifles when every object was a weapon? I’d have to thank the Lakunae if I ever saw them again. I figured a silent prayer wouldn’t cover it.
Somewhere behind me, I heard Skrew cheer and use a word so foul it was usually reserved for special occasions. I guessed the occasion was special enough.
There was one other vrak guard remaining, but he’d vanished. I saw no sign of him, but I could smell his sweat. It was sweet and almost pleasant, which was all kinds of weird. I followed the scent to a tree and circled around it.
“Stay there, pink-skin!” he cried as he raised a rifle. He hadn’t had a firearm before, so I figured he’d grabbed it from a fallen comrade. His hands were shaking as he raised it. By the unsure look in his eyes and the way he held the weapon, it was probably the first time he’d handled a rifle. One shot, and he’d probably lose an eye from the recoil. The training among the vrak guard regiment was abysmal.
I doubted he’d even be able to hit me, but I’d seen half-blind men get lucky at the range.
The vrak stared back at me, and the longer we stood there, the more his hands trembled. I took a step toward him and bared my teeth like a hungry carnivore. He whimpered and dropped the rifle.
I considered sparing him and tying him up so that the search party could find him later, but then he had a surge of courage. He swung a clawed hand for my face, and I swatted it away. The mere act of deflecting his blow popped his arm from his socket, and I delivered a punch of my own. My fist caved in his skull like paper and splattered brains over the jungle floor.
“Jacob be strong!” Skrew pumped all four of his fists as he emerged from behind a tree.
You got that right.
I’d cleaned up these vrak like they were cattle at the slaughter. I almost felt bad for them, but then the old woman dropped down from the tree. She’d been a slave for months, and yet she’d still had the strength to climb and hide.
There was something about her, but I couldn’t quite place it. Her face was hidden behind her hood, so I couldn’t see her expression. I couldn’t tell whether she was frightened of me, but from the way she glanced over the jungle floor, bloodied and smattered with a collection of vrak body parts, I figured she was absolutely terrified.
Note to self: next time you rescue someone, try not to make yourself seem like a worse monster than the slaver you rescued them from.
Still, the brutality had served its purpose, and it would continue to serve me. This new strength would help me find any members of the Revenge that were stranded on this planet. The Lakunae hadn’t lied about their “gift,” so maybe they’d also been truthful about wanting to bring peace to our universe.
Only time would tell.
“Strong!” Skrew repeated, and this time, he wrapped his hands around my bicep.
I tore my arm free and gave him a light shove. I barely used any force, but the vrak toppled head over heels through the detritus.
“Strong!” Skrew gave me a sharp-toothed grin as he sat upright.
Oh, boy. I hoped the crazy vrak turned out to be one hell of a guide.
Chapter Eleven
I took a little time to wash my hands and face in a stream before heading back to the small clearing. I didn’t want the old woman to suffer even more distress because of my appearance. I had more vrak blood on me than I thought that many of them could hold. They weren’t that big, after all. It turned out out the vrak weren’t just vicious; they were also kind of juicy.
I stared into the stream and saw no difference in my appearance, but I definitely wasn’t what I used to be. My experience with the Lakunae had been real… somehow. I had strength, speed, and knowledge. But their gifts hadn’t come without strings attached.
I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I remembered what they told me. They wanted to enter this universe, and they wanted me to be the man opening the door. One thing I knew for certain: there was no such thing as a free lunch. I filed that thought away for later.
A few minutes later, I was as clean as I was going to get. I hurried back to the clearing and found Skrew whacking one of the dead guards with a stick. He probably needed to get his aggression out, so I left him to it a
nd turned my attention to the old woman who’d climbed a tree again. She must decided it was better to hang around the foliage than on the ground with a bunch of corpses. And Skrew. I couldn’t say I blamed her.
“We’re safe now,” I said as I raised my hands to help her down. She stared at me from the darkness of her hood. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “I got all of them. There are none left to return to the village. But a search party might come soon. We need to leave here. Please, come down.”
She leaned forward, trusting me to catch her, which I easily did. The poor old lady was shaking and breathing hard. I hadn’t been able to wash all the blood off my clothes, and they were ripped in a couple of places. It could have been the violence that caused her to tremble like this, or the proximity to her dead tormentors, or something else. I wasn’t sure, so I did the only thing I felt I could do. I held her to my chest and allowed her to be silent. She’d talk when she was ready. I had no idea what her captor had done to her, so I wasn’t going to rush it. She could take all the time she needed.
“Skrew,” I said. “Quit playing with that thing and lead us to your hidey-hole. She needs to get some sleep.”
Skrew looked up from the mess of a guard and frowned at the bundle of rags in my arms. “Skrew does as he is told. This way.”
Before I followed him, I examined the vrak rifle again. It was far too risky of a weapon to fire with any reliability. Closer inspection confirmed my earlier suspicion that the firearm would also be likely to backfire or explode in my hands. Whether I liked it or not, I would have to continue without a weapon.
With Skrew in the lead, I held the old woman in my arms while we walked for hours through the almost endless jungle. I was amazed at my own strength and endurance. I could have carried her before, but not for hours.