Chapter 11
Suddenly the buildings were upon them. The desperate creatures took their chance, three of them dived at the puddles of light. They dropped and scattered. Richard went down, brawling with one. Black struggled upright the dizziness was back, heart thundering in his ears he thought he spoke. "Drop, run. Now." He must have succeeded in speaking aloud because two weights dropped off him and fuzzy shapes darted away. He staggered in place for an hour long moment. No, he was too close. He forced himself to focus, to concentrate. The bleariness across his eyes cleared, ahead Richards light pack blinked in and out as monsters moved between them. Then it hit, he had no light. "Fuck." With great clarity his position struck him. Richard had lights though and he was only five metres away. Air shoved his back, taking the god-sent warning Black fell to the ground and rolled. An enraged screech deafened him. His bad hand found a pole of some kind. Scrabbling at it with his good hand he gripped it. Shaking at it he freed it from the sand and he swung blindly in to the darkness, nothing. He clambered to a crouch back against a wall, how to do this… Swinging the pole in an infinity before him, he stood. Five metres. Richard lunged at a shadow. He could do it. Heart rate stumbled. Okay then. Drew in deep painful lungfuls' of oxygenated air. He lurched forwards and dashed across the distance. Skidding to a halt he twisted so the pole struck the darkness behind him. It hit a black mass that shrieked and hissed. He hissed back, stepping forwards threateningly, though he was shivering as muscles convulsed. Behind Black a squelch sounded as something was knifed.
"Did not know who he was fucking with." Announced Richard.
"Crow later, we should go before they proclaim us dead."
"They took the cells?" Richard sounded startled.
"They're not entirely helpless." Black informed him rolling his eyes. "Shall we?" He gestured with the pole. Richard seemed to pause at the weapon. "It's an equaliser." Black announced proud of his ingenuity.
"It's a pole."
"Umm, yeah. As much as I would love to argue that we really should go– oh. Well here." Richard was favouring a leg and his right side rather a lot, Black move in to help take the weight. This would be fun. He swung the pole with one hand, carried Richard as best he could with his free and aching shoulder. Then Fry rushed around a corner towards them torch blazing brightly in her hands. There was movement behind her. "DOWN!" Yelled Black. A beast swooped in where her back had been, and flew off prize-less. She was beginning to stand when Richard yanked Black down to kiss the sand. Air washed over them. Black waited, Richard stood slowly and Black copied. Fry was with them now, concern in her expression as she looked at them. Black turned to look at Richard, who had turned to look at him. They both looked like shit, blue and red blood streaks, a nasty bruise –. Fry gasped. Both men crouched. Nothing. Confused Black faced her, she whispered something. There were flecks of blood on her lips. Her hands were on her stomach, she'd dropped the torch, it lay on her boot the odd angle illuminating her. A spike forced its way further forward, revealing itself to the men. Both reached for her, but they never touched, the monster launched up and away carrying her with it.
"No, not for me." Called Richard desperately, disbelief at the woman and her end colouring his voice. The bigger man slumped, straining under the new weight Black swung the pole lightly and tapped the man's, thankfully, uninjured back. Richard straightened.
"Onwards and upwards." Black told him. The two men hurried as best they could, Black swinging his pole and Richard defending them with Fry's torch.
Finally they reached the skiff. Jack's pleading voice sounded out the open ramp, though the words were lost on the men. Stepping onto the ramp Richard stood taller, freedom beckoned, pride was a must, helped the other up the ramp and deposited himself in the pilot seat, pausing only to hand the holy man Fry's torch with a single shake of his head.
Arriving on the skiff had the opposite effect on Black. As relief overwhelmed him, his concentration shattered and with no goal to devote himself to the pain in his head and torso swamped him. He tottered. Max launched at him as he teetered and crumbled.