Endworld #28 Dark Days

by rebel4477

  Ares nodded.

  Together, they struck. As one, their blades arced and scored. Ares tried for the neck and nicked the creature’s shoulder. Helen caught it across the thigh.

  A fantastic bound carried the Gualaon out of their reach. It looked down at its leg and it touched the oozing cut on its shoulder. “No more holding back.”

  “Show us what you’ve got,” Helen said.

  The creature was on her so quickly she barely got her machete up. Its claws scraped steel even as its other hand raked her midriff.

  Helen felt stinging pain and backpedaled. The thing had sheared through her leather vest, and she was bleeding.

  “Not so much as a whimper?” the thing said. “Tough human momma, aren’t you?”

  “You’ll find out how tough.”

  “Do or die,” Ares said. “On my mark.”

  “Do or die?” the creature said.

  Helen understood. When an enemy was formidable, when there was a good chance it might prevail, the Warriors resorted to the penultimate tactic. They went all out, much like the ancient berserker Vikings. Either it carried the day or they joined the ranks of the Warrior fallen.

  Helen thought it was too soon but Ares was the Triad leader and he had more experience than she did. She dipped into a crouch with her machete next to her ear.

  The Gaulaon glanced from one to the other. “Have you a trick up your sleeves? I hope so. You’re boring me.”

  Ares and Helen again attacked in concert. They stabbed. They sliced. Their weapons wove glittering figure-eights.

  With unbelievable speed and dexterity the Gualaon avoided blow after blow. Then Ares cut its side and Helen opened its back, and with a roar of baffled rage, it leaped over twenty feet and spun to face them.

  “You’ve hurt me,” the thing exclaimed, and touched a tapered claw to fluid bubbling from a wound.

  “We’re going to do more than that, monster,” Ares said. “We’re going to take you down.”

  “Monster? My kind is as superior to you as you are to the ant. Our culture was old when yours was in its infancy. We are more than you can ever be, more than you can imagine being.”

  “Says the lap dog to the Lords of Kismet,” Helen said.

  “I am proud to serve them.”

  “Superior, my ass,” Ares said. “You lose your temper, the same as we do. You boast. You bluster and threaten. You’re no better then we are.”

  “Can you do this?” the Gualon said, and its body rippled and swelled and reshaped itself with a swiftness they would not have believed possible had they not seen it with their own eyes.

  “What is it becoming?” Helen said.

  “I don’t—-,” Ares said, and stopped.

  The Gualaon was no longer a Gualaon. It had blue skin and four arms instead of two and long black tresses that writhed like snakes. It had breasts, and eyes that glowed . “Behold my mistress, Kali,” it said in a voice even more inhuman than its normal voice. “Behold the Lord of Kismet I serve.”

  There was something about those eyes, Helen realized. They fixed on her with hypnotic effect and she felt herself growing physically weak. “What—-?” she said.

  “Don’t look!” Ares darted to her and swung her away.

  For fleeting moments both their backs were to the shapeshifter, and the thing was on them.

  Ares sensed that it was attacking and tried to turn. Helen saw a blue arm flail and then another and Ares was flung against her. They both went down. He was on top, and he wasn’t moving. She pushed out from under and got to a knee and saw what the creature had done.

  Ares’s tunic was ripped from shoulder to hip. The thing’s claws had penetrated deep, and blood was welling. His eyelids fluttered and he got a hand under him, but collapsed.

  “Your turn, ape-girl.”

  Gripping her machete, Helen rose. She thought of her daughter, Mindy, and her fellow Warriors, and friends.

  The thing became a whirlwind.

  Helen countered, blocked, stabbed. Her right wrist was seized in two blue hands and her arm was torn from her body. Blood gushed, and the pain doubled her over.

  “Oops,” the creature said.

  Resisting a tide of dizziness, Helen staggered. She still had the machete in her left hand and she slashed at the creature’s neck but iron blue fingers gripped her left wrist and others closed on her throat.

  “This was the only way it could end,” the Gualaon that was Kali said, and finished her off.

  The creature discarded the husk with no shred of emotion . Turning to Ares, it smiled. “Your turn. I think I’ll pummel you to a pulp.”

  In the shadows under the trees someone growled, “Like hell you will.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Lynx and Ferret bounded out of the woods and separated. Each bared his fangs and flexed his claws.

  “I’ve been hoping for a crack at you,” Lynx said.

  The blue creature with four arms regarded them without alarm. “Ah. The hybrids. Are you sure you want to pit your puny selves against me?”

  “Keep talking, asshole,” Ferret said. “We’ll cram those words down your throat.”

  The Gualaon’s face rippled and was no longer blue. It was assuming its true form. “I’m curious,” it said. “Indulge me, if you would.”

  “What the hell?” Lynx said.

  “Why do you ally yourself with them? The Family, I mean? You weren’t born at the Home. You’re not one of them.”

  “We are now,” Ferret said. “They took us in when no one else would.”

  “And they don’t consider us freaks,” Lynx said as he warily circled.

  “The Lords of Kismet wouldn’t regard you as freaks, either,” the Gualaon said. “They have a fondness for your kind. Much as the humans have a fondness for their pets.”

  “Why would that be?” Ferret asked, circling the other way.

  “Didn’t you see me a minute ago? Humans regard my masters as freaks, just as most humans regard you.”

  “Four arms and those weird eyes,” Lynx said. “Makes them freaks in my book.”

  With remarkable rapidity the creature continued to change to its natural state. Its limbs were its own but its torso was slower to respond. “They are the Lords of Kismet.”

  “Means squat to me,” Lynx said. He stared at what was left of Helen. “She was a nice lady, that gal you just killed.”

  “She was a red-haired ape.”

  Ferret stepped to Ares and bent and pressed a finger to his neck. “There’s a pulse but it’s weak. We need to get him to the Healers.”

  “You’re not taking anyone anywhere,” the thing said. “In a very short while you’ll be as dead as he’ll soon be.”

  “We won’t be easy,” Lynx declared.

  “That’s what they said,” the creature replied. “But they were hardly any challenge at all.”

  “Alpha Triad sent you running the other night,” Ferret reminded him.

  “And you haven’t gone up against Beta Triad yet,” Lynx said. “They’ve been away on a mission. Tangle with Rikki-Tikki-Tavi and he’ll slice you into sushi with that katana of his.”

  “And then there’s Yama,” Ferret said. “And then there’s Yama,” Lynx echoed.

  The creature cocked its head. “That name again. If he only knew.”

  “Knew what?” Ferret said.

  “Tell me more,” the Gualaon said. “What makes this Yama of yours so special that my masters specifically mentioned him?”

  “Yama’s not like most humans,” Lynx said.

  “He’s not like any of them,” Ferret amended. “He’s devoted to death. To what he calls the discipline of oblivion.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “But you don’t have to worry about going up against him.” Lynx clacked his claws. “You won’t survive us.”

  “You think you’re special but you’re not,” the creature said. “Just because modern man learn
ed to recreate your kind in test tubes.”

  “Recreate?” Ferret said.

  “Haven’t you heard of the minotaur? The centaurs? And others of their ilk? Ancient humans knew the secret but it was lost over the ages only to be rediscovered shortly before the human species blew itself to hell.”

  “Wait,” Ferret said. “You know this for a fact?”

  “I am Razhliq Nher. I sat in the stone stands above the famous maze on Crete and watched the minotaur hunt its victims . I saw herds of centaurs and became one a few times for my own entertainment. Yes, I know all this for a fact.”

  “No way,” Lynx said.

  “Do you hear yourself? Your body is a step above the human form but your mind is as limited as theirs. The evidence was always there in the old writings but it was ascribed to myth and legend. All that is has been before. All that was will be again. All that is to come completes the cycle.”

  “You’ve lost me,” Lynx said.

  “He’s saying that nothing ever really changes,” Ferret said. “That there’s nothing new under the sun.”

  “One of the few things the pathetic apes got right,” the Gualaon said.

  Lynx looked at Ferret. “Are we done playing nice? This son of a bitch killed Helen—-.”

  “And Sundance and Achilles and that little girl whose name eludes me,” the creature said. “Oh. Yes. Now I remember. Her name was Bethany.”

  “We’re done,” Ferret said.

  “About damn time.”

  The Gualaon’s jaw muscles twitched and it glared from one to the other. A living flash of lightning, it launched itself at Lynx but the cat-man nimbly leaped out of reach.

  “Is that the best you’ve got?”

  “Nowhere near it,” the thing said, and came at Lynx again, even quicker.

  Lynx jumped high into the air, clear over the Gualaon’s shoulder. Executing a flawless flip, he alighted as lightly as a feather, upright.

  Ferret chuckled. “I wish I was part cat. You felines can do cool stuff.”

  The creature hissed in anger. “You make a game of this. In doing so you treat me with disrespect.”

  “Bub,” Lynx said, “We’re going to treat you with a lot more disrespect in about two seconds.” He snarled and growled, “Now!”

  The hybrids rushed from both sides. Their speed was incredible . So was the terrible swiftness of their reptilian foe.

  Lynx slashed and cleaved empty air.

  The creature unleashed a terrific blow at Ferret, who slipped under it and raked the Gualaon’s leg. Instantly, the shapeshifter swung a backhand that might have caved in the side of Ferret’s head had it landed.

  Lynx sprang at the creature’s back. His left arm went around its neck even as he clawed in a fury with his other hand and with his feet.

  A cry of agony tore from the Gualaon. It reached up to seize Lynx but Lynx dropped down its back, digging furrows with his claws.

  The next moment the two hybrids were on either side of the Gualaon, which glared in raw hate.

  “It can be hurt,” Ferret said.

  “It can be killed,” Lynx grinned, and became a storm of claws and teeth. He was far shorter than the creature but scored and scored again.

  The Gualaon suddenly retreated out of their reach. “This can not be.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet, ugly,” Lynx said.

  Ferret moved to his friend’s side and they looked at one another and grinned and nodded, and went at the creature shoulder-to-shoulder. Clawing , biting, rending, ripping, they inflicted wound after wound. So did the shapeshifter. Blood flowed in red torrents and so did the fluid that served the same purpose in the Gualaon’s veins. The three moved so fast, onlookers would have found it impossible to say who was doing what to whom.

  For seconds that were eternities they fought with unbridled ferocity.

  Then Ferret cried out and staggered, clutching his neck, scarlet spraying in a fine mist.

  Lynx turned to him—-and was felled by a blow to the head.

  Breathing heavily for the first time that day, the Gualaon loomed over them. “You were a challenge. I respect that. But you’ve chosen to side with the primates, and leave me no choice. In olden times I might have spared you. But not now.”

  The shapeshifter raised its claws.

  CHAPTER 24

  The thwack of a slug striking the Gualaon’s shoulder was simultaneous with the crack of a distant shot. Jerking erect, the shapeshifter glanced up at the ridge and swore in a language alien to human tongues.

  Another shot boomed.

  The Gualaon was no longer there. Vaulting fallen zombies, it streaked for the far side of the valley, its reptilian hide glistening with the blood it was losing.

  Silence descended save for the buzz of flies and the caws of crows gathering above the field of undead.

  Then the undergrowth crackled and out of it burst Blade, followed by Hickok and Geronimo. They stopped short in shock and Geronimo numbly exclaimed, “By the Maker, no.”

  Blade ran to the bodies. One look at Helen was enough. He checked Ares and announced, “He’s still alive. Find some tree branches. Long ones.”

  The Warriors were so well trained that Hickok and Geronimo melted into the forest without a word.

  Blade went to Lynx and rolled him over. Lynx groaned. After a quick examination, Blade moved to Ferret. Grimacing, he knelt and cradled the hybrid’s head.

  Ferret opened his eyes.

  “Don’t try to talk,” Blade said. “We’ll get you back.”

  “Don’t kid a kidder,” Ferret said, blood bubbling from his throat with every syllable.

  “I’m sorry,” Blade said, and had to swallow the lump in his own. “Rikki’s using the SEAL or we’d have been here sooner.”

  “I know,” Ferret said. He smiled a scarlet smile and weakly gripped Blade’s wrist. “I’m glad you got here at all. I want to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For taking me in. For treating me as one of you. For being a friend.”

  “God,” Blade said.

  “Lynx?”

  “He’ll live, I think.”

  Ferret’s scarlet smile widened. “Good. Look after him. He’ll be mad. It’ll make him careless.”

  “Ferret, I—-,” Blade began, and couldn’t go on.

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Ferret said. “I die true to my nature. Protecting those I care about. What more can we ask for?” His gaze shifted to the sky and his eyes drained of life.

  Hickok and Geronimo barreled out of the woods, each with a limb.

  “Aw, damn,” Hickok said.

  Geronimo stared across the valley at the distant figure about to disappear into the woods. He dropped the limb and raised his Marlin 45-70. “If only I’d hit it in the head. Let me go after it.”

  “No,” Blade said.

  “It’s hurt. I can track it and finish this.”

  “No,” Blade said again. “It took on four Warriors and killed two. We stay together. We get Ares and Lynx back so they can be treated.”

  “I don’t need help,” Lynx said. He had pushed up onto his hands and was looking about. He set eyes on Ferret, and uttering a shriek of rage worthy of his namesake, he heaved unsteadily to his feet and stumbled to his friend’s side. “Ferret? Ferret?”

  “He’s gone,” Blade said softly.

  Tears brimmed the hybrid’s emerald eyes and he clenched his hairy hands. “Where is that son of a bitch? I’ll kill it if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Try and stop me,” Lynx said. He took a couple of tottering steps and his legs gave out and he pitched onto his side.

  “You’re hurt,” Blade said. “Hurt bad. You need the Healers.”

  “It has to die,” Lynx snarled.

  “I agree. But I’m not letting you run off and get yourself killed. Ferret said to look after you.�
��

  Lynx gazed at his friend and his feline form seemed to fold in on itself. He closed his eyes and groaned.

  Blade began taking off his black leather vest. “Geronimo, we’ll need your fatigue jacket. Hickok, your buckskin shirt.”

  They complied without comment.

  Blade and Geronimo rigged a stretcher by tying the jacket and shirt to the two limbs and placing the vest over the middle for extra support. As carefully as possible, Blade and Hickok lifted Ares and placed him on his back on the makeshift stretcher.

  “You two will have to carry him,” Blade said. “I’ll bring Lynx.”

  “Like hell you will,” Lynx said without opening his eyes. “I’ll lie here a while and be good as a kitten.”

  Blade moved to him, stooped over, and scooped the cat-man into his arms. He’d forgotten how light the hybrids were. But then, both were barely five feet tall and spare of frame.

  “You don’t listen worth spit,” Lynx said.

  “If it was me,” Hickok said, “I’d let you crawl all the way back. I’ve always held that folks should be allowed to be as stupid as they want to be.”

  “Bite me, bub,” Lynx said.

  They started out, Blade in the lead. “We’ll come back for the bodies.”

  Lynx’s eyes were closed and he was breathing shallow. “Where’s Gremlin? Why didn’t he come?”

  “He wanted to but I made him stay behind,” Blade informed him.

  “What the hell for?”

  “In case the Gualaon circles around and attacks the Family while we’re gone. Or an army of scavengers or some other threat shows up. Only six Warriors are there , counting him. Bertha is such a wreck over Sundance, she wouldn’t be of much use.”

  “Achilles. Sundance. Helen. Ferret,” Geronimo said. “We haven’t lost this many in a long time.”

  “Ares will be out of action for a spell,” Hickok commented. “Kitty-cat here, too.”

  “I’ll be on my feet tomorrow,” Lynx growled.

  “I hate to say it,” Hickok said, “but dream on, bub.”

  “Let’s hope Beta Triad gets back soon,” Geronimo said. “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, Teucer and Yama can make all the difference.”