by Dan O'Brien
The noise caught Ryan’s attention and he rolled to the ground, his sidearm leveled at the beast as he righted himself. The smoky discharge from each weapon billowed from the barrel. The impact of round against echoed in the canyon. I heard the definitive click that signaled the empty chamber and the pathetic squeal of the beast as it rolled to its side. It kicked violently as death descended upon it.
“Ryan,” I screamed over the winds.
My legs churned beneath me as I battled against drifts of hard-packed snow that stood in my path. I aimed the barrel of my sidearm at the set of blood eyes that emerged from the shadows. Three distinct sets of eyes crept from the darkness and nuzzled up to the whimpering body.
“Get up,” I screamed.
My brother shrugged his shoulders and placed a cupped hand to his ear.
The soulless eyes descended upon him like jackals. They took cautious steps, as if they were reluctant to move forward. They snapped at each other like feral monsters and licked their bleeding gums with their emerald, forked tongues.
Ryan turned back toward the approaching beasts and then realized why I had been calling to him. He began to backpedal; his hands gripped the drifts of snow as he struggled. “Seth,” he whispered.
I moved forward, leaping through the drifts. I discharged a round as I ran. I could hear the dull smack of the cartridge slamming into its body.
Moving beside Ryan, I grabbed his arm and he turned toward me. His startled eyes focused on my face and then closed as the gales whisked past. The three sets of eyes had not retreated completely; instead, they backed into the shadow again.
“Are you okay? Did they get you at all?”
“Scared me mostly. I think you startled them a bit,” scoffed Ryan. He dusted the snow from his pants and used my shoulder to stand. Reaching along his belt, he grabbed a full clip and slammed it into the sidearm.
The eyes drifted and moved around us, searching for an opening. Their hungry snarls and snapping jaws were a testament to their urgency. Ragged breathing echoed on the howling winds.
I placed my sidearm back into its holster and drew the blade from around my back. “Go back to the camp and get everyone moving up the remainder of the mountain. Guard the remaining ones and kill whatever beasts make it past me.”
I could feel his anger. He wanted to abandon me even less than I wanted to send him back alone. Without him to guard the supplies, the entire trip would be wasted.
“Seth, you can’t take three of them.” The urgency in his voice made me want him to go even more.
Emotion impaired the ability to act logically.
“Go now, we are wasting time arguing. I have no idea what these beasts are. If they are what I think they are, then you need to get everyone as far away from here as possible.”
The beasts inched closer. Their disfigured heads and snapping jaws emerged from their solace in the shadows. They fixed me with a hungry gaze.
I turned back to Ryan. “Now,” I ordered harshly.
Ryan looked at me one more time and then ran back toward the camp. His boots treaded through the packed snow and kicked into the wind as he pushed against the white-out. I watched him disappear into the gales and wondered if I would ever see him again. As I turned back around, I found my answer.
I SAW THE FADING GLOW of the blue light and knew that they were on their way; yet, their flight panged me with guilt. I had been charged with their protection and the success of the mission. It seemed a shirking of duties to cut them loose under the watchful eye of my brother.
I held my blade out in front of me. Right hand over left, the tip of the blade extended out slightly farther than the hilt. I scanned the edges of the darkness. The roaming eyes of the shadow beasts seemed to be toying with me. I removed my left hand from the blade and grasped blindly along my side to the utility belt just beneath the first fold of my outer wrapping.
The spherical object was cold even beneath the bandages. Its metallic release seemed to be iced over; I placed my thumb over it anyways.
The eyes had stopped again, fixing me with a distant and haunting stare that was no doubt natural to the beast. It felt unearthly to me. I rolled the release to the right until it clicked four times, and then depressed the flat protuberance; the button struggled against the ice.
I tossed it at the shadow eyes watching me so intently.
The sphere fell into the pile of snow at their feet.
Their fear was amplified by the winds when the sphere exploded into blinding amber light that flooded the shadowed mountainside.
I moved forward without hesitation. My muscles surged with much-needed adrenaline in the cold. Rolling my body forward, the trail of the blade was invisible behind my spin. The edge of the blade connected with its neck. Blood gushed. As the head rolled to the ground, it was stained emerald like its tongue. The body remained for a moment before the muscles lost control and fell beside the lifeless head.
Turning to the two other creatures, the amber light faded.
Their wicked tongues flicked out, tasting the frozen air.
They charged forward, their footfalls awkward in the hard-packed snow. The green essence of the first beast oozed from my blade; the warmth of my blade boiled it upon the steel. I tilted my head and peeled a second blade from the sword––the stained blade in my right and the unsoiled one in my left––and met their charge.
Two blades sung through the frigid air. I swung the first and connected with muscular flank and then spun, driving the point of the unsoiled blade into the thick mass of its skull. The force of the blow splintered bone and emerald fluids spurted from its eyes. It cried out and flopped to the side, kicking and pawing at itself while the second one crashed one of its misshapen claws into my right side, sending me sprawling against the rocky edge of the mountain. The wrap upon my face slid down and exposed some of my face to the frozen gales.
I pushed myself with my left arm––the blade dug deep into the snow. I felt the broken ribs and bruised flesh that would ache and burn long after the battle.
The beast reared up and swung its claw down upon me again.
It sensed my labored approach.
I rolled beneath the attack and stabbed both of my blades deep into the underbelly of the beast, up to the hilt, and pushed the creature as far from me as I could manage.
It uttered a panicked cry as it fell to the side.
With my two blades still deep within its gut, the deluge of blood poured over me.
I pulled the blades clear.
Their blood was smeared across the exposed portion of my face. Sour smells brought my hand to my mouth to fight the urge to vomit.
I used the blades to push myself from a crouch.
The gales had subsided and only the vague trickling of the snowfall remained perched on the night.
I wiped at my face with the longest fold of my wrappings and looked farther north to the trail the others had taken.
My path was apparent to me.
THE FURY OF THE ARCTIC gales had stilled. I could see the trail of the group up ahead of me, which filled me with relief and angry. It was incredibly sloppy to leave a trail. The rules of the frozen lands were absolute––and to leave a mark was certain doom. Scavengers––or worse, the Umordoc––could happen along the trail and massacre entire supply lines, destroying the precious hopes upon which the Fallen was built.
Smell ceased in the subzero temperatures that gripped us.
I knew the sticky, hardened film on my blades carried a horrendous smell, but it bothered me not. The layers I wore were more than sufficient once the winds stopped; only the settling of the frost on the air assaulted me now. The pressure on my lungs and the feeling that my body would be crystallized if I dared to expose my features haunted each step I took.
The canyon narrowed and their collected steps became close and staggered. This would confuse potential predators from knowing how many were in the party.
My brother’s tracks were very clear to me. He had re
mained behind the party in case something made its way in the blizzard that had ravaged the mountain.
The jagged sides of the canyon climbed beyond my vision.
My breath came ragged now. The grip of the frozen wasteland taxed my reserves and I could feel the sluggishness in my legs. I pushed on through the drifts of snow. I could not stop even for a moment, as it would be more than enough to end my miserable existence.
Touching my right side, I winced.
It was difficult to walk straight.
I hugged my arms around my body as best I could and lowered my head, trying to divert the current of cold air away from my face.
Taking a chance, I began to jog, lifting my feet from the trenches that had begun to form around me. I dug into the wool-wrapped pockets at my side. Feeling around for the mass of dried jerky I had hidden away for the journey, I tore it within the confines of my thermal pocket.
My stomach had tightened over the past few days from hunger.
I had given most of the rations to Ryan and the others; however, five days seemed far too long. I slipped the flat, tasteless cut of game into my mouth and moistened it with saliva, conserving the nutrients of the preservation juices. I could taste the tempered salt and chewed slowly on the slick slab.
The path of the Fallen was cruel and merciless.
Our homes were cramped and ill-maintained. Without them we would not survive a summer, much less the severe cold of winter that could freeze the water in your lungs and solidify your body––return you back to the white ground from whence you came. My father had seen the passing of three chiefs, his life considered a miracle by many. His life was not nearly as easy as ours had become. I remembered him explaining to me the intricacies of making a solid camp and creating a thermal vacuum––as well as the proper maintenance of a thermal generator. These were things that were necessary, but they seemed like games in my youth––tests that my father found necessary to train me with and to amuse the confused mind of an adolescent child.
The gales were stronger now. The cold, brittle crystals pelted against my skin and I yawned despite myself, a strange thing to do amidst the tormenting winds. My wrap was stiff and dried from the hybrid’s blood splattered across my body. I pulled the layers tighter and lowered my head. I did not want my face to feel the wintry grasp of the storm.
The shadow of the camp caught my attention in the distance.
A small smile crept to my lips.