That’s good, because I’ll need it again.
The one-armed, and now one-eyed Golyat beneath me wails in agony. For the first time in who knows how many hundreds of years, it’s feeling pain. It lets loose a shriek tinged with despair. Perhaps, like Lew, some small part of the man it once was still remains. Freed from a mental prison that had been guarded by a burning desire to consume, he is now free to express sorrow for the things he has done, and the many people he has reduced to steaming piles of waste.
Just as the monster starts to come undone, it’s tackled from the side by the beast pursuing me since setting down on the Divide’s far side. The jarring impact topples the mortally wounded one-armed Golyat, and knocks me from its shoulder. I drop past the attacker’s lowered head and see its eyes track my descent.
If I survive the impact with the ground, and the maze of tree trunks and jagged limbs, the first Golyat we faced, still adorned with the hooked arms of a former opponent dangling from its ribs, will set upon me. With its one-armed counterpart’s skeleton falling out of its shedding flesh, the rib-Golyat’s attention will return to its prey.
I strike out hard with the knife, digging into thick black flesh. After slicing through several feet of skin, the blade catches and my fall comes to a stop high above the ground. I wait for the agonized scream of another Golyat being undone, but I’m disappointed.
The rib-monster roars, but not in pain.
I see the incoming hand just in time, leaping away as long, slender fingers take hold of the limb dangling from the massive ribcage. I land against the over-sized ribcage and dig my fingers into its bark-like skin.
“Shitty cupcakes,” I grumble, when I realize I delivered the antibiotic to the arm of a long dead Golyat.
The ribs I’m clinging to flex outward as the Golyat grasps the hanging arm and yanks. The hooked elbow remains fixed in place, and the beast is far too stupid and lost in hunger-lust to maneuver it free. As a result, the rib is detached from the sternum, yanked out through the skin, and cracked in half.
The Golyat shows no reaction to the self-inflicted wound other than tossing the arm and its own rib away, and then turning its attention back to me.
Holding on with one hand, and my toes, I lift the knife, ready to plunge it into the monster’s flesh. I stop short of striking when I see the blade, cleaned of antibiotics when it slipped through the dead arm’s flesh.
The Golyat reaches for me again. Unwilling to part with the ancient blade, I slip it into my belt and scurry across the jagged ribcage. With my newfound strength, and the Golyat’s rough but pliable skin, I’m able to move across the torso with the ease of a squirrel on a tree.
I take refuge behind the second dangling arm, ducking away when the Golyat grabs for me.
With experience and frustration guiding the Golyat, it yanks the arm away with staggering force. Another rib breaks in half, jutting out of the chest from different angles, forming a bony triangle. Black blood spatters from the wound, flung from the bone’s marrow. Most of it rains to the forest floor, eating up whatever it lands on, but a fist-sized glob strikes my shoulder.
I freeze up, waiting for the pain to come, and then the anguish of transformation. But all I feel is wet and warmth.
I’m immune, not just to the change, but to the liquid’s digestive abilities. I’m not sure if that would extend to the glowing orange fluid of its gut, and I don’t plan on finding out.
I climb a little higher and turn my attention downward. Shua and Salem are trying to find a way past the Golyat skull blocking the entrance. If they can get inside, they’ll be able to return with more antibiotic. They can’t see it from ground level, but the only way back inside is through the skull’s hollowed eye socket.
Del and Bake yank back tree limbs, trying to get at the spilled antibiotic. As much as I hope they succeed, I don’t think they’ll be coming to my rescue any time soon.
And then there is Dyer. She’s standing still, head turned up, hand over her eyes to shade the sun. When she sees me looking down at her, she smiles, extends her hand and gives me a thumbs up.
I nearly laugh, but then I have to move again, climbing higher to avoid being plucked away and eaten. The giant fingers scratch and squeeze, trying to grasp me. The Golyat pummels itself, but continues the chase everywhere I flee.
How can we stop it?
Without the antibiotic, the Golyat is unstoppable. Short of a giant sword to cut off its head, the giant cannot be killed.
Not by a human, at least.
I glance up toward its head and find those big black eyes and somehow blacker star-burst pupils staring back at me. The teeth chatter in excitement. A black tongue inside waggles back and forth inside the mouth. Froth flings out with each chomp.
Every instinct I have screams to get as far from that hungry maw as possible. Instead, I head straight for it.
The dark eyes widen like those of a man about to climax. The moment it has been tearing itself apart for has nearly arrived.
Hands reach up for me from both sides, both of them squeezing air. If they grasp hold of me, I will pop like a frog in the hands of a malicious child, my guts bursting from my mouth.
I scramble up and over the enlarged ribcage, moving to its shoulder once more. Jaws snap, the teeth coming together with such force that one of them shatters. I’m belted by tooth fragments, but the larger pieces miss me.
As I leap toward the back, where long bones grow from the creature’s spine, one hand pursues me and the other reaches around the head to intercept.
I slip once as my foot digs into the old flesh and scoops away a chunk, but then I jump, sailing from its back to one of the long spine bones. I hit hard, which was my intent, but I’m dazed by the impact and I fail to grasp hold. I land atop the next spine bone down, my back nearly breaking. The fall is painful, but lucky.
The Golyat hands clasp around the area where I had been a moment before, locking on to the bony protrusion. Had I not fallen upon impact, I would have been little more than a smear. But the Golyat doesn’t know I’m missing, and as with the ribs, it takes hold of what it finds, and pulls with savage force.
A roar of frustration transforms into an odd kind of shriek, and then back again. The warbling sound continues as it vacillates between its mindless drive to consume me, and the fact that it is pulling itself apart.
Orange light flares from below, coupled with a roiling gurgle. Somewhere inside it, a waterfall of digestive fluid calls out for food. The light is so bright that it flares through the creature’s back.
If this doesn’t work, I think, it might actually digest itself to death.
A loud crack and a wet slurp silence the growling gut. The vertebrae connected to the long spire of bone is torn from the Golyat’s back, just below its neck.
The orange light goes dark.
The gurgling stops.
Limp arms fall downward, carrying the dislodged bone with them.
I cling in place as the Golyat topples forward. When it hits the mountain, I’m slapped against its back, dazed once more. Thanks to my altered body, I recover quickly and get to my feet, as a curtain of pine needles flutters back toward the ground.
As the debris clears, I see Shua and Salem, staring back at me from their position by the Golyat skull’s eye socket. Then there are Bake and Del, crouched in the trees, eyes on me. Dyer stands her ground, just a few feet away from the fallen Golyat’s shoulder.
“Fucking cupcakes!” Dyer shouts with a grin. “Someone get this woman some chocolate pudding!”
I walk over the monster’s back, heading toward Dyer. “What is pudding?”
“I read about it once,” Dyer says, as I jump down beside her. She gives me a pat on the back with her blackened arm. “So, next order of business, find out if this place has a kitchen, right?”
I look at each member of our family gathering around, each one stunned by what they’ve witnessed.
“Now…” I say, looking south toward the distant sound of ra
ging Golyats. “Now we take the fight to them.”
Epilogue
One Year Later
“Two Goliaths at eleven o’clock,” Salem says. “One more, and a Behemoth at three. They’re working on the wall. That’s what I can see, anyway.” He lowers the binoculars and turns to Del. “Can you hit them from here?”
“Can I—” She shoots her young husband a look. Over the past year, she has proven herself to be an uncanny shot, utilizing powerful bows found in the underground base in combination with arrows crafted by our ancestors. We’ve all become good shots, using bows and arrows more than bladed weapons since crossing the Divide a second time, but no one can match Del’s accuracy, or range.
Del nocks an arrow, draws the string back, and lets the antibiotic-coated projectile fly.
After gaining access to the base’s computer systems, thanks to Lew, Salem was able to uncover the method for creating the antibiotic and the inoculation. Three of Micha’s men survived the events at Mt. Fletcher, and spread the word about what they’d witnessed throughout all the counties. The next army to arrive in search of those responsible for bringing the Golyats across the Divide were volunteering to fight with us—not against us. We had taken down a few Golyats on our own, but with an army at our disposal, Kingsland was cleared of the beasts, and peace restored in less than a month.
We then set our sights on the world beyond the Divide.
‘Freedom or death’ took on a new meaning, and the world felt lighter, despite the Golyats’ presence in it. For the first time in five hundred years, the people of Kingsland were truly united behind a cause more noble, worthy, and empowering than hiding.
When it came time to find volunteers to cross the Divide, we had to turn people away. Bake selected a hundred men and women based on fighting and survival skills. And then she taught them about the Golyats, about surviving beyond the Divide, and about our true history and our scattered brethren.
Armed with countless antibiotic arrows, our army marched the Divide’s length. From high above, they rained down permanent death upon the Golyats. Some attempted to scale the walls, but none made it to the top.
To re-cross the Divide, we repeated Plistim’s hot air balloon stunt, peppering Golyats as they descended. Reunited on the far side, fifty men and women left in heavily armed groups of ten. Their mission was to systematically clear the land beyond the Divide, and I have little doubt they are getting the job done.
The rest of us have a much different job—one that we’re close to accomplishing.
Del’s arrow drops from the sky a half mile away. I don’t see it hit the Golyat’s back, but there’s no mistaking its violent reaction. Loud wailing echoes off the wall as the giant thrashes about, reaching for something it can’t reach. Even if it could, there’s no stopping the antibiotic. It spreads through the creature’s system, killing the bacteria driving its hunger and holding the whole thing together. Golyats don’t simply fall over dead. They fall apart in a heap of ancient flesh, slime, and exposed bones.
It’s a sight I have yet to tire of, not because I enjoy the gore, but because it means we’re making progress.
“One Goliath down,” Del says, nocking another arrow, “One more to go.”
Goliaths are Golyats ranging in size from fifty to one hundred feet. Anything over that is called a Behemoth. Salem came up with both names, but it was Dyer who insisted anything under fifty feet be called a ‘little bitch.’
Del’s second arrow finds its target and sets the second Goliath wailing. The creature falls back, slipping out of itself until it crashes into the lush forest, which reminds me of home, but is far more lush and wet. Two deep pockmarks are revealed on the wall when the Golyat falls. They’ve been pounding against it for who knows how long, chipping their way through the massive barrier, which ascends at an angle.
No way we’re scaling that, I think.
It’s Shua who voices the concern. “I don’t think we’re going over the wall.” He slips an arm around the small of my back. Before crossing the Divide we were married in Essex…by my father.
Micha had been lying about his death. While he had captured my father, and tortured him, he had stopped short of killing him. The Golyats’ awakening in the Divide interrupted my father’s interrogation, and Grace had not yet been touched. Of all the positive turns of event over the past year, my father’s life being spared was the most joyous.
After the wedding, my father resumed his role as Essex’s elder, organizing the counties and educating the people about the past, ensuring that everyone could read. He was very impressed with Bake, and together they updated the Prime Law to more closely match what our ancestors had intended—especially when it came to the Golyats and reunification of the five safe havens.
Which is what inspired our journey across what had once been called the United States of America, but is now known simply as the wilds. After months of travel, and fighting, and hunting, we finally spotted the wall, as massive and unnatural a barrier as the Divide, only in reverse. Upon first seeing it, we thought it nearby, but it took days to reach it and now, just after noon, we stand in its shadow.
“Why do you think they’re beating on the wall?” Dyer asks.
“They know what’s beyond it,” Bake says.
These two women have become like sisters to me. I trust them in all matters, which is good, because I’m the leader of this small army, and thanks to their input, Shua’s support, and Salem’s knowledge, we’ve only lost two men. They are also deadly to Golyats at close range. When the forest is too thick for arrows, they wield antibiotic-laced weapons in a way that none of the beasts can defend against.
Shua would argue that he is equally skilled against the Golyats, and he’s close, but his true value is as a leader of men. While I am in charge, because of what I’ve done, what I’m capable of, and what I look like, Shua is far better at inspiring people. My marbleized skin doesn’t let anyone forget that part of me is Golyat, and that if the hunger ever awakens in me, the antibiotic might not work. The response to Dyer’s arm had been similar, but enough of her still looks fully human, and her sense of humor puts people at ease. She also figured out how to make cupcakes, which made her a lot of friends and brought more than a few suitors to her hut’s door. She turned them all away, claiming to be focused on our continuing mission, but she is still faithful to Holland, who had been her life. I hadn’t understood the concept when she first explained it to me—I lean into Shua’s arm—but I do now.
“How could they know what’s beyond it?” Salem asks, head craning high. The top of the wall is cloaked in clouds.
“We should search the area for signs of habitation,” Bake says, and before Salem can complain about that she adds, “People coming and going. Just because the Golyats don’t have a way through doesn’t mean people don’t.”
“And there’s no way in hell we’re getting over that thing,” Dyer says, and then she looks at me. “Well, maybe you could.”
I look up at the unclimbable height and realize that I probably could ascend the wall, even at an angle. I don’t really get tired. I’m strong enough to crush stone. And I’ve had some experience climbing—having ascended and descended both sides of the Divide, making several trips before taking our army across. But it’s not without its risks. Loose rock could send me plummeting, and while I can fall from great heights—I turn my head up… “Let’s call that a last resort.”
“Del,” Shua says, “Finish the job. Then we’ll scout the area for signs of passage. If nothing turns up, we’ll split into two groups and trace the wall’s exterior to search for gates and tunnels.”
All eyes turn to me, those of the people who have become my close family and dearest friends, and those of the forty eight people standing behind us. As the heir to Plistim’s legacy, I feel strange having the final word, but in the new world, being the eighth of anything no longer matters.
I nod and say, “Do it,” to Del. Then I turn to the warriors and hunters behind m
e and add, “We’ve journeyed long and fought hard, sacrificing blood and loved ones. And now, our destination is finally in sight. Our brothers and sisters, severed from us five hundred years ago, lie on the far side of that wall. And when we’ve reunited with them, we will not stop until we’ve located the safe zones in the south…” I look at Bake. “And those left in the north. We will not rest until every man and woman can live in freedom. And if we die in the effort, so be it. There are worse things than death, and we will never return to that sorry state. Freedom or death!”
“Freedom or death!” the warriors repeat, thrusting bows and blades in the air.
Dyer leans in beside me. “Did you rehearse that?”
“Salem helped me write it,” I whisper back, and then give Del a nod.
Del lines up her third shot. We’ll have to track down and recover the arrows—our supply is limited—but Behemoths and Goliaths are never hard to find.
With a snap of the bow, the arrow sails over open forest, headed for the third Goliath’s back.
A scream rips through the forest.
Too soon, I think. And too high pitched.
I look back, scanning the face of every man and woman. No one is missing.
“That was a woman,” Shua says, poised to run toward the sound.
“Little bitch!” Dyer shouts, pointing her sword downhill toward the forest’s edge. A black form, thirty feet tall, but on all fours, crashes through the trees. I see it for just a moment, but the shape was canine. As the beast runs into the forest, the orange glow of its stomach marks its path.
I draw my machete, its sheath always full of black antibiotic.
“Follow,” I tell Shua. “But carefully.”
He nods and I break into a run that only the largest of Golyats, striding through the open, could match. When it comes to moving through the forest, I have no match. I slip into the trees and follow the fresh path left by the ravenous Golyat.
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