"How?" was Gregor's thought as he sat astride an enormous, fluffy gray bat. They were flying along a barren landscape, composed mostly of pale gray sand, with small gray rocks jutting out here and there.
How had the prophecy snuck up on him like this? He had always known that it was there, but since discovering it, he had simply put it from his mind. And here he was now, trying to do whatever it took to fulfill it, again. Five other bats, loaded with people and animals surrounded him. A quiet buzzing of conversation passed between them.
They had been flying for almost six straight hours, and Gregor's legs were starting to ache from his slightly awkward stance on his bat. Now and then a small rodent or insect would scuttle beneath them. Aside from these occasional intruders, there was almost no motion beneath the flying forms.
To Gregor's slight discomfort, he noticed that a distant swirling of dust was rising in the distance.
He read stories in newspapers about dust storms and people trapped in them. He just hoped it wouldn't happen to them. He considered telling Vikus or Ripred about his observation but decided against it.
The was nothing they could do about it anyway.
They continued to fly for about half an hour more before Vikus gave the signal to stop.
They slowly descended down into thick clouds of dust. Choking slightly from the dust, the party gathered about. The swirling clouds of dust had slowly been creeping up on them, and Gregor was alarmed by how close they seemed. Gregor helped York unload a massive water skin from the bats.
There was what seemed an absurd amount of water to Gregor. Then again, there had almost always been some way to refill their water skins. Not this time thought Gregor. Vikus had told him specifically that there would be no fresh water available. He told Gregor that, although there were occasional streams they were all tainted and dangerous to drink. Not to mention the number of people. Usually, the quests Gregor had been on had consisted of only a few chosen people. This time it felt like they were some sort of flying circus. A human, rat, spider, and cockroach circus .. thought Gregor, smiling slightly at the thought.
Along with several massive water skins, there were several different commodities of food. All of it was either dried or preserved in some sort of way so the food wouldn't rot. Along with the preserved and dried for there were a select few fresh vegetables and fruits. Vikus walked slowly over to Gregor holding a bowl of beef stew. Gregor gratefully accepted the steaming dish; he was famished.
Gregor scooped some up with a delicate wooden spoon. He blew on it to cool it. The delicious aroma reached his nose, making his mouth water. Slowly, he brought it up to his mouth, eagerly awaiting the savory taste. He opened his mouth and brought the warm broth to his lips. And that was when the first blasts hit them.
Chapter Fourteen
Gregor staggered backward from the force of the wind. Sand scoured his skin. Already he could feel his arms and legs beginning to blister.
The sand was so thick that Gregor could barely make out the others. To him, they were mere shadows. He thought he heard someone shout out a command but he couldn't head it over the wind.
His head bowed down against the swirling clouds of sand and dust, Gregor slowly trudged his way towards the others.
"Gregor!"
This time Gregor could make out someone's voice. Faint as it was, Gregor recognized the voice belonged to Ripred. Gregor quickened his pace in the general direction of Ripred's voice—
"Ouch."
Gregor had walked directly into the big rat. He stumbled and hit his face on the ground. It made contact with a rock. Gregor tasted blood.
Gregor and the others stood, bracing themselves against the scouring sandstorm that was all around them. Gregor could feel the sand burning through his eyelids which were tightly closed against the ensuing storm. He wanted to open his eyes to try and spot another member of the group, but he didn't.
Some half-hour later, almost as suddenly as it had begun, the storm began to die down. Slowly, as visibility began to improve, Gregor's eyes could make out the distinct form of his companions—
A second later his brain registered one fact. Well, two but one was more concerning than the other. The first thing he noticed was that surrounding them were several men and half a score of rats. The second thing he noticed was that every one of these men was holding guns and they were all pointing in, toward him.
"Duck!" shouted Gregor, without thinking. He dropped to a crouching position.
A banging sound, of a gun being fired, stung Gregor's ears. A bullet grazed his hair. He looked frantically at the others to see if one of them had been hit with the bullet, but as far as he could tell, they were all fine.
Clutching the ground, Gregor inched his way along the ground, hoping desperately that the now sparse dust would be sufficient to hide him; it wasn't.
"Hands above your head!" Gregor looked around at the others. Vikus gave him a nod, and Gregor reluctantly placed his hands above his head.
"On your feet!" said the same voice. He stood up slowly, hands still held above his head.
Hands above his head, he turned, only to find himself staring into a handgun. The owner of the gun—a tall, red-headed man with striking blue eyes and a layer of dirt on his body—shoved Gregor roughly to a kneeling position. Gregor looked around for someone who might be the leader of the group, figuring he would be the one to negotiate with. At the head of the group was a man, this one short and muscular. Clutched in his arms, a knife pressed to her throat, was Luxa, struggling furiously.
"Let her go!" shouted Gregor, angrily at the man.
The tall ginger-headed man above him shoved him roughly to the ground. Gregor winced in pain as his jaw was banged against the abrasive ground.
Luxa was struggling furiously with the man holding her captive, but she was making no leeway. While she might be strong for a twelve-year-old girl, the man was covered from head to foot in well-developed muscled. Gregor knew that if the man holding her increased the pressure on her neck, it would release a geyser of blood.
"What do you want?" he almost screamed at the men, trying to put the attention on him. The rats around the group stirred in agitation. The men ignored him. Desperately Gregor tried to make his way at the men. Where was his rager sense—the rush of power and adrenaline? Gregor felt none of this, all he felt was poorly coordinated. His arms flailed wildly at the men. A sharp blow hit Gregor sideways in his face. He tasted blood. The men laughed unpleasantly at him. Gregor felt his face burned with anger and embarrassment at his pathetic resistance. Blood dripped sickeningly down his throat.
"What do you want?" This time it was York who had spoken. York was being held down by four men at once. He was struggling against their bodies in a vain attempt to get free.
"So, we meet at last," said the man in a deep, commanding voice. "I've heard a lot about you, warrior."
"How do you know about me? I've never even seen you," said Gregor, anxiously glancing at the knife to Luxa's throat.
"D'you like my knife?" the man asked casually. They might have been discussing the weather.
"What?" asked Gregor, completely nonplussed. "Of course not!"
"I thought so," said the man, seeming satisfied. "I could have put a gun to her head, but I thought the knife might be better. The blood seems to make people eager to do my bidding." And, to Gregor's horror, he pressed the knife, ever so slightly into Luxa's neck. A few droplets of scarlet liquid oozed from under her skin.
"No crying? Well, you're a brave little girl but it'll do you no good."
"What do you want us to do? We'll do it," said Gregor desperately.
"How reasonable," said the man calmly. "Now, first things first—" he began, but he got no further. Boom.
Ripred's attack was well-timed and perfectly executed. He had begun his spin attack and was now tossing the men around like popping corn. Gregor wondered how Ripred had hidden from the men, and more impressively, from the rats whose sense of smell was highly developed. Maybe the dust had helped him.
Ripred was targeting the bigger men first and working his way through the group. Gregor almost wanted to laugh at the men. Some of their mouths were quite literally hanging open with surprise; suddenly all Gregor could think was Home Alone with the kid's mouth screaming.
This made him want to laugh even more until he realized that Luxa was being dragged roughly across the ground.
The man holding was keeping low, under her body, so that Ripred wouldn't harm him. Others had joined in the fight now. Gregor saw York grab hold of two large rocks in his hands, and begin smashing in the faces of two unfortunate rats. The rats had swarmed in the second Ripred had attacked and were now attacking anyone in sight. Things didn't look good for the underlanders. They were outnumbered fifty to one, and to top it off, none of the underlanders had ever experienced guns before. In the first few minutes of the fight, both the spiders had been shot through the head. But Gregor had no time to worry about the other, as he rushed after the man. He saw him disappear over a ledge, Luxa still being dragged with him.
Gregor saw dimly, hidden in the shadows of a cave, a small dirt bike parked under a small rock. The man made a beeline for the bike. He threw Luxa onto the back and hopped astride it. Gregor chased after it, but to no avail. The motor revved and the man disappeared into the ravine.