Thanks to Footrot Flats for reviewing the previous chapter.
Also, to the guest if you are still here... A Hero's Last Cry is complete. The last chapter was just gonna be a list of songs.
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Chapter Six: New Alliances
Hundreds of corpses lay scattered on the snow, decomposing under the strong rays of the sun. Many vultures sat around the corpses, their naked necks plunging into the flesh of the dead. Pink skin became red as the vultures feasted eating as much as their stomachs could take. Lone Gunslinger landed on top of a fresh corpse, his massive black feathered wings batting other vultures away from his meal.
He ignored their petty squabbles; there was no point in fighting when food was abundant. Placing a talon on the young calf deer, he lowered his head and dug his beak into the animal's hide. The hook at the end of his beak tore apart the flesh with ease. Blood leaked out of the incision and the vulture dug his neck deeper eager for a piece of meat.
"How rude eating without me," said a female voice.
Lone Gunslinger lifted his head from the corpse and glanced sideways. A large unknown female had landed next to him. He observed her with scrutinizing eyes. She was clean for a vulture; not a speck of blood or dirt was visible on her body. Her feathers were in prime condition almost having a shine to them. Strange how he had never seen her before. "Of course, how rude of me not to wait for the lady," he said, voice laced with a mocking tone. "I've never seen you around before."
"I don't belong to this flock of vultures," she replied. "I'm here on a visit." She hopped over to the corpse and tore a scrap of flesh for herself, swallowing it whole without getting a spot of blood on her neck. An elegant clean female, how odd for a vulture, thought Lone Gunslinger as he continued to watch her eat. Instead of throwing herself at the meal like other vultures did, she carefully pulled pieces of meat away one at a time.
"What?" she said.
"Are you afraid of getting your feathers dirty?" he said, eyes sparkling with amusement.
She rolled her eyes. "I think of it as devouring a meal in a neat and tidy fashion." She lifted a wing and pointed to the squabbling vultures around them. A group of five were fighting over a corpse sending feathers flying in all directions. "Look at them they're stooping down to the level of sabres! See what mess they make?" she said. Two of the vultures were covered in blood from head to tail with various pieces of hide stuck to them.
Lone Gunslinger shook his tail, lifted a leg, and stuck out his right wing. "You must be the only vulture that doesn't want to make a mess." He hopped to her side and placed his left wing around her then spoke again. "So where are you from?"
She moved out of his wing embrace. "We have company." She pointed to the sky. A male vulture approached them. He looked like any other vulture; black feathers, pink naked neck, and white neck ruff except this one had a few feathers missing around the front of his ruff. He held his wings back then landed beside Lone Gunslinger. "Have you heard about the legend of the egg and the earthquake?" the male vulture said ignoring the female.
Lone Gunslinger tried to keep the annoyance in his voice restrained. "What are you talking about?"
The male folded his wings. "Well, my grandfather told me one day the earth would part, and evil doers would walk the land searching to kill and maim as they desired. A leader of this army would awaken in an eggshell made of magical components," he said, moving closer to the corpse. "A wave of death would occur and soon all animals will litter the ground, and meat-eating animals would die." His eyes sparkled with excitement, but also with fear. He lifted a wing and pointed to the dead animals. "It's happening now."
Rolling his eyes and snorting gently, Lone Gunslinger replied to her comment, "Don't be a fool that is just a story to scare little vultures."
The female shook her head. "No, it's all true. I heard it too."
He gave her an incredulous look. "And you both believe this? You have no proof."
"The signs are all there – look at the number of deaths, that's not natural. Even a pack of sabres and wolves combined could not kill so many in a day," the female spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "And they wouldn't anyway, they only kill when they're hungry not for a blood sport," she added.
Wise girl, Lone Gunslinger thought. "Does it matter? It means we have more food," he said, his tone becoming impatient.
The other male stood in front of Lone Gunslinger, his talons resting on the corpse. "If this continues there will be no food for us all!" He opened his wings. "Our glorious food supply will disappear, and we'll perish!"
That was a good point. The lead vulture frowned, "If this is tale is true then how do we stop them?" He looked from one vulture to the other waiting for an answer.
"It's believed the blood of a noble mammal will stop those with evil souls," the vulture replied. "Of course, tough luck trying to convince a mammal to give up their lives to save the rest of the world," he added with a frown.
Lone Gunslinger thought hard about the vulture's tale. If it were true then they were facing a potential colossal disaster, but why were the mammals here? Why now? "Why are they here? What caused them to awaken?"
The other vulture looked thoughtful, trying hard to recall the words of his grandfather. After several minutes he spoke, "It only happens during an earthquake. Souls of the damned and the cursed rise up from the crack and a leader is reborn in a giant egg. Dark energy fuels them and every kill grants them strength."
The female vulture shuddered, drawing her neck closer to her body. Lone Gunslinger felt the urge to wrap a wing around her to comfort her but decided against it. Rather, he focused his attention on the other male waiting for more information. "What is a damned soul?"
"The damned souls belong to animals that made wrong decisions that ultimately led to their downfall and cursed souls are those that seem to run into trouble every day of their lives," the vulture explained. "Good things might happen to them, but they are rare."
"And what's a noble soul?"
"A mammal that has made mistakes before but realizes them now and hopes to redeem themselves. Only their blood can stop the evil. The trouble is convincing one to sacrifice themselves for the greater good." He spread his wings and flapped them gently, exercising them in preparation for flight. "I need to go now, but I thought I should tell you. You're our leader. We expect you to save us." He launched into the air and flew away leaving the two vultures alone.
"What are you going to do?"
Was this tale even true? He didn't have any proof, but he figured someone might have come across some. He stretched out his wings, turned his head towards the female and nodded, "I'm going to seek answers elsewhere." Without saying goodbye, he flew into the clear blue sky and started to look for the mammals that belonged to that weird herd. Perhaps they had seen something out of the ordinary on their adventures... they seemed like the type.
"Where are we going?" said Oscar. They seemed to be heading in no direction; Soto wandered in one then went another way. What thoughts were running through his head, Oscar wondered but he didn't dare ask.
"Yeah, I thought we were hunting," Lenny said pulling a sour face. His stomach grumbled loud enough for all to hear.
"With that stomach we'll be lucky to find any sort of prey," Zeke muttered, trotting behind Soto on the left flank. He glanced over his shoulder and looked at the youngest mammoth, "I don't see why we can't eat at least one of them."
Drool dribbled down the side of Lenny's mouth. "I want the small one."
Zeke frowned. "I want her!"
"They're not for eating," Oscar snapped.
Both sabres grumbled but dared not argue with Oscar especially with Soto so close. But the lead male didn't seem the least bit interested in their petty squabbles his eyes were focused on the road ahead. He sniffed the air twice. "Did you catch the scent of something?" Oscar said.
"Blood... fresh meat up ahead."
Lenny and Zeke exchanged excited looks and quickened their pace eager to find the food. Their stomachs growled and even Oscar felt his stomach stir. Unlike his two friends, he managed to control his appetite. Control was essential; it was the difference between life and death. Unfortunately, his friends lacked self-control and raced ahead unable to control their excitement at the prospect of a meal.
Soto chased after them, his speed increasing with each step. Oscar trailed behind ensuring Ellie and Peaches were following. They wouldn't dare escape if they knew they were watched. After all, they were defenceless, and terrain was flat and open; taking advantage of the surroundings would not help them here.
Soon, Oscar and the two mammoths caught up with the rest of the pack. He heard Ellie gasp behind him but paid no attention to her concerns. He was mesmerized yet horrified at the scene before him. What was once white ground was now dyed a deep shade of red with countless numbers of slaughtered mammals lying on the snow. He felt bile rise in his throat and fought hard to keep it down. Blood didn't make him queasy but seeing hundreds of dead mammals decapitated did.
"No..." Ellie whispered, "we were just here before..." She saw the giant crack which split the earth and remembered separating from Manny.
Oscar jerked his head in her direction. "What are you talking about?"
It was Peaches who answered. "An earthquake happened, and three mammals stepped out." She lifted a quivering trunk and pointed in front of them, "That's them there!"
Oscar turned to face whatever she was pointing at. His eyes widened. Three mammals in the middle of the slaughter; a mammoth, a sloth and a sabre which looked like normal mammals except for their blood red eyes. He was reminded of Soto who also shared that bizarre appearance. Soto, Zeke, and Lenny stared at the odd trio, while Oscar and the mammoths kept their distance.
The next event happened so quickly Oscar almost missed the action. Soto threw his head back and growled, before charging towards the red-eyed sabre. The Diego look-a-like growled back and charged, head low teeth bared. Their impact was immediate.
Soto flung himself at the sabre, claws outstretched and ready to tear. He landed on the other sabre, his weight knocking him to the ground. He opened his jaws and lowered his head to sink his canines in, but the other sabre fought back. With a free paw, he swatted Soto in the face slashing the flesh beneath the eye drawing blood.
Zeke and Lenny ran forward to help their leader, but Oscar stood back eyes wide open with fear. In the corner of his eye he saw the two mammoths looking fearful. There was only one thing to do now... run. Oscar turned to Ellie and jerked his head to the right, "We're leaving, come on." He started to sprint, stopping for a short second to see if they were following. They were. "Quickly, before they notice."
The mammoths broke into a sprint and followed Oscar as best as they could. The sounds of battle followed them, the snarls of sabres echoing in their heads. Driven by adrenaline, the mammals covered ground creating a good distance between them and Soto. They continued to run until Oscar came to a sudden stop.
Panting, the cat looked over his shoulder. "We're safe for now," he said.
Ellie kept her distance from the sabre. She didn't trust him. "Why did you do that?"
He glanced at her, a frown on his face. "Would you rather be a corpse on the ground, a feast for vultures?"
"No, but you turned your back on your leader to help his prey."
Now Oscar knew how Diego felt, but understood his reasons why. Soto wasn't Soto, well not fully, but Oscar was reminded of Soto's cold nature except he couldn't reason. He was driven by desire for revenge. He could see the lust for blood in his red eyes. "He's not who I think he is, not anymore."
His thoughts drifted to Zeke and Lenny his faithful companions. They were fools to assist; now they were probably lying dead on the battlefield, but he could not mourn for the dead; they needed to keep moving to increase their chances of survival. He stood up and started moving north. "There's no time to talk; we need to continue moving." And so, they walked.
Alone, scared, and vulnerable. Three simple words, yet powerful. Two opossums wandering the snow-covered terrain in dangerous territory. Their beloved Ellie and Peaches were both gone, completely at the mercy of four sabres. And Manny? He was somewhere else searching for his family with Sid and Diego. "Crash, I'm scared," Eddie said, wrapping his thin naked tail around his small body.
His brother nodded and stepped closer to Eddie. "So am I Crash..." The two opossums shivered and hugged each other, their eyes facing skywards as if they feared something would fall upon their heads. Something did fall, a large shadow. They look up and noticed a sole vulture flying low, its beady eyes fixed on them.
"Vulture!" Eddie looked up, saw the vulture, and fainted. Crash ran to his brother's side and grabbed him. "Eddie! Don't leave me!" Eddie didn't respond. Crash covered his eyes with a free limb and wept.
The vulture changed direction and dove towards them landing a foot away from the opossums. The bird's weight forced him to stumble forwards. Using his wings, he flapped to support himself, generating enough wind power to knock over Crash. Crash opened his eyes and glared at the big bird. "Stay away from my brother. I will not let you eat him!" He grabbed hold of his tail and pretended to use it like a sword.
Lone Gunslinger shook his head. "I don't eat trash." He examined the opossum... and remembered his face. He cocked his head sideways then spoke, "I remember you... you travelled with that mismatched herd. What happened to them? Were they killed?"
Crash shook his head. "N-no," he stuttered. Talking to a predator that had the ability to drop him from a great height made him skittish. "We were separated by an earthquake... then a sabre with red eyes took Ellie and Peaches away... and-" The vulture raised a wing cutting the opossum of.
"You don't need to tell me everything, I've heard this all before," he said recalling the legend about the dark ones. A nasty bunch of creatures they were with blood red eyes full of thirst for death. He too killed but only when it was necessary. Killing wasn't a sport to him.
"What do you want with us?"
"Believe it or not I'm here to help you."
Crash forced a grin. "Why would you want to help us?"
"Because I'm a kindred spirit with a desire to help the unfortunate?" the vulture offered, cocking his head to one side. The opossum bit his bottom lip. "Look, those mammals with the red eyes are a threat to our food source. If they kill every living thing, we won't have anything to eat in the future."
"That's not a bad thing."
"I take offense to that. Vultures are important. We clean up the dead."
Eddie stirred, a soft groan escaping his throat. Crash peered down at his brother and spoke, "Eddie? Eddie! You're alive!" He bent down and hugged his brother.
"What's happening?" he said, eyes opening slowly. His vision was blurry at first, but he could make out the form of a vulture. That made him alert. "Crash, there's a vulture right there! Play dead!" He dropped to the ground, eyes closed and lay motionless.
"All right brother!" Crash dropped down next to his brother.
Lone Gunslinger flared his nostrils then placed a talon on Eddie. "I'm not falling for that." He grasped his talon around the 'dead' opossum, lifted him in the air and shook him then released the mammal.
"Plan b, throw dung!" Eddie declared, reaching a hand below his tail. His hand found nothing worthwhile. "I have no dung!"
"Me neither!"
"What do we do now?"
"We're going to die!"
The opossums fell against each other sobbing, their hands wrapped around the other's waistline. Lone Gunslinger was losing patience fast. "I can help you find your herd."
Both opossums stopped their dramatic crying. "You can?" Eddie said.
"You will?" Crash added.
"Don't make me change my mind. We're on the same side here. Climb on and hold tight, there's a lot of turbulence." The opossums looked at each other and nodded. They climbed onto the vulture's talons and gripped feather-covered legs. Lone Gunslinger spread his wings and launched into the air. Flapping hard to gain speed, he flew through the crisp cool sky in a northern direction. Time was of the essence.