CHAPTER FIFTEEN: I Won't Back Down
Bucky Barnes
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...
I tear through the jungle at an unrelenting pace, Bruce struggling to keep up behind me, his breathing ragged. The knife wound in my side is throbbing with pain beneath the layers of grey bandages wrapped around it, a faint fever still sending chills shuddering across my sweat drenched skin.
But I don't have time to wait for it to heal completely.
Peter doesn't have that kind of time.
Bruce lets out a muffled curse as he trips, but I don't slow or stop for him. Part of me is furious with the man for letting the kid dart out of the cave. The moment he'd slipped out, I'd tried to surge to my feet, but the pain had been crippling, forcing me to grip the wall in support before I passed out.
I'd demanded that Bruce go after him, that he turn into the green raging beast he keeps so carefully locked away and tear this jungle apart to make sure that the kid would be ok. But he'd hesitated, eyes on my damn wound, and then a lone alien hunter had discovered us.
The battle had taken longer than it should have, with the scientist trying desperately not to Hulk out in such a confined space with an injured teammate at his side, but the man was no fighter. Not compared to the alien.
Too long. It had taken me too long to blink away the spots in my vision enough to pull the knife from my belt as Banner had grappled with the hunter, surprisingly holding his own enough to not have been slaughtered straight off. With the last of my strength, I had tossed him my knife, and he'd killed the alien himself.
Shocked, horrified, and drenched in black blood, he'd stared at the corpse for a long moment before slumping against the wall.
And despite how hard I had fought to stay awake, my eyes had rolled into the back of my skull just before everything went black. When I woke, feeling significantly more healed, Bruce had collected the supplies off the alien's body and told me he'd tried to find which direction Peter had gone in while I'd been unconscious, but had zero clue how to track.
Without a trail to follow, turning into the Hulk would do nothing to save Peter.
My muscles are unbearably tense, my insides churning with a sharp anxiety as I plow through the jungle without care, picking up on the signs that the scientist is too inexperienced to see.
It's maybe not fair of me to be angry with the man. He'd tried to grab Peter before the teenager surged off on his idiotic, self-sacrificing play. He'd fought off the alien as best he could. And he'd tried to find out which way to go so that he could employ the use of his worse half to save him.
Bruce had tried.
But he'd come up short, and with the midday sun blaring through the gaps in the jungle canopy, we could already be too late to save Peter.
Damn that scrawny little idiot. Damn all the scrawny little idiots whose hero complexes are bigger than their common sense that somehow become my responsibility.
My jaw clenches as I brush massive leaves the size of my torso aside with my metal arm, my eyes glaring up at the broken branches of the trees above me, the smoldering edges of them that speak of plasma rifle fire.
He's probably dead already, my mind informs me grimly. There were four of them, and it's been hours. If he was alive, he would have come back to the cave.
No. I slam those thoughts away as viciously as I am able to. I did not save his ass this many times, I did not get stabbed and nearly killed myself just to let him die now. If anyone is going to survive this godforsaken place, it's going to be Peter.
Banner wheezes, lagging farther behind me as I storm across large splinters of wood littering the jungle floor, following the signs to rush around the large trunk of a tree.
I stop short.
Seconds later, a panting Bruce comes staggering up behind me. "Oh my god," he breathes in horror.
The entire side of the tree is scorched, its maze of roots burned, chunks of it nothing more than shards and splinters of wood among the ashes. This entire area is a disaster, clear signs of a life or death struggle, a fight marking up the trees, the ground at our feet.
An alien hunter corpse lays in the center of it all, a spear driven through its chest, pinning it into the ground.
I move for it, my gaze moving over its unseeing, foggy eyes, the nearly dry pool of blood beneath its body, the spear twisting straight through its black armor. Crouching beside it, I notice a second stab wound in its chest, smaller, jagged, likely from a knife.
"Jesus," Bruce places a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. "Did Pete do this?"
My fingers trail across the broken edges of the armor, my eyes noticing the dark, dried blood on the alien's own wrist blade and noticing the large boot prints pressed into the soft earth beside me. "I don't think so. It's too precise, like whoever killed it knew exactly what it was doing, where to hit. Likely one of the other hunters."
If it's one thing I know, it's that the kid is no killer. He couldn't have done this.
The scientist moves away, either unable to stand looking at the body any further or to look around for any other clues as to what exactly happened here.
Spotting the alien's high tech rifle on the ground several feet away, I move for it, picking it up and examining it, noting the layout is similar to a Barrett M82 rifle. A series of lights on the side seem to indicate how many energy blasts are left in the gun's capabilities, and I'd guess about seventy percent remains.
"Bucky."
Bruce's tone has alarm bells clanging in my head, has wariness coiling in my gut as I turn to him. His face is ashen, expression aghast, eyes trained on the ground. Dread pulls at me as I move to his side, heart beginning to pound as I follow his gaze.
I have to take a deep, steadying breath.
Bending slowly into a crouch, my free hand reaches hesitantly forward, and then my fingers are curling into the material, dirt falling to the ground as I lift it into the air.
Peter's mask.
One of the lenses is cracked, the red material dirt streaked as it hangs limply from my fingers.
Banner makes a sound like he's going to be sick. "It doesn't mean anything, right? So we found his mask? He could have taken it off after the lens got damaged and kept running. It doesn't mean he's...it doesn't…"
My hand forms a fist around the mask as I stand, my chest going hollow and empty as I scan the area around the discovered mask, seeing the impressions in the dirt, the broken stalks of the plants.
"He was dragged," I say, my voice coming out hoarse. "Over there. Two of them were dragging him away."
They could have been dragging his corpse as a trophy, as proof of their kill.
They could have been dragging his unconscious body for some other nefarious purpose, to savor a slow kill, to use him as bait, to torture him into revealing where his allies hid.
Ice splinters through my blood, the void in my chest growing darker, sharper. There are times that I loathe this empty, violent part of me, the part that Hydra had a hand in creating. But there are moments I am glad of it, moments where I slip eagerly into that deadly calm, ready to unleash that part of me to do what has to be done.
Snap.
I whirl, plasma rifle already raised, finger on the trigger as I aim down the sights in the direction of the sound.
My breathing remains even. My heartrate doesn't spike or quicken. I just calmly wait for the hunter to step out from behind the trees, to show its hideous face. The plan forms easily in my mind like it has always been there.
Take it down. Make it suffer. Force it to show us where its comrades would have taken Peter.
Banner is stiff at my side, his wide, panicked eyes darting from me to the jungle beyond. I am so still, I swear I can hear his frantic heartbeat, double the steady pace of my own.
The bushes rustle, footsteps sinking into mud, and my finger tightens against the trigger.
"Bucky?" Bruce whispers uncertainly.
A man steps out of the foliage. Tall, an eyepatch over one eye and armor covering his chest, leaving his muscular arms bare. Unarmed, but his single eye narrows on me, and his muscles tense, ready to fight.
"Thor?" Bruce gapes, his voice thick with shock as he takes a hesitant step forward.
The man's single eye snaps to his. "Bruce!"
The scientist lets out a strangled laugh as he darts forward, a grin stretching the stranger's face as his strides eat up the space between them before they embrace.
"Man, am I glad to see you!" Bruce's voice is muffled, but heavy with relief. "I thought you were dead."
More rustling in the bushes behind them, and a second man emerges, his familiar blue eyes meeting mine straight away. He stops at the sight of my gun aimed at his chest.
Steve.
Seeing him breaks through the quiet place I've sunked into, and I straighten, lowering the gun to hang loosely at my side.
His face breaks into a relieved smile. "Hey Buck."
"Hey Steve."
He moves past Banner and Thor to clap a hand on my shoulder, a move I replicate as a small smile forms on my own mouth. "Been awhile," Steve says, and I notice his unkempt hair and beard, the dirt streaking his uniform, the small splatters of black blood across the shield peeking over his shoulder.
I know I probably look as well as he does.
"Here, this belongs to you," I hear Banner say as he reaches into his pocket. Steve and I both look as he hands Thor an eyepatch. "Although your new one is...nice too."
Thor lets out a scoff. "I cut it from my own armor. Chafes terribly. Thank you, my friend. I hope you slew the hunter that dared to take it from me in recompense."
"Er...well, it's dead. I didn't exactly do the slaying or...recompensing."
"We've been looking for you," Steve says, stepping towards Bruce, his voice grim. "Vision's injured. Wanda's done what she can, but-"
"How bad is it?" Bruce asks, brows furrowing in concern.
"Bad," Steve replies.
"Heimdall and Loki are with them," adds Thor. "Heimdall might be able to assist Wanda in healing him, but they could use your expertise."
"We have bigger problems," I interrupt, and all eyes turn to me as I lift up Peter's mask. Thor frowns in confusion, but I see Steve's expression change, features sharpening with worry.
"What happened?" he demands.
"Bucky was injured," Bruce answers grimly. "We got pinned down last night by four of them, and the kid ran off to lead them away."
Steve's eyes drop to the bandages covering my side, eyes flashing with concern. I shake my head and say, "I'm fine. We followed their trail here and found his mask. Looks like they dragged him off in that direction."
When Steve's eyes meet mine, I can read the hesitant question there, the one he's too scared to ask out loud. I have no answer to give him. There's no way to tell whether or not Peter is dead.
Either way, I'm going after those hunters.
I see the same determination and resolve form on Steve's face, on Bruce's, and even Thor, who has never met Peter to my knowledge, gives a brisk nod as we all come to the same conclusion.
"Heimdall will keep Vision alive until our return," he declares. "We will not leave an ally in the clutches of the enemy."
"We either rescue him," I say darkly, tucking the mask into my pocket and adjusting my grip on the rifle. "Or we avenge him."
Clint Barton
I've done a lot of missions for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. Most of them, fortunately, have taken place in major cities, populated areas, namely Europe. A handful of them had me flying to South America, infiltrating the jungles to stop things like illegal arms deals, trafficking, the like.
I've always hated the jungle.
You'd think being on an alien planet in the far reaches of space, in a very cold, dark corner of space, mind you, that it would be cooler, dryer. Not the moistest, hottest hell I've ever stepped foot in.
God, give me snow, give me the barren icy wastelands of Siberia, hell, give me the dry heat of the Sahara desert. I'd trade any of it over being in this jungle. My skin is so damp I can't tell what's sweat and what is the humidity.
"Anyone else feel like they might have pissed themselves?" Sam mutters from my right. "Goddamn, it's like I'm swimming in this air."
I snort. "Seconded."
"If you are unused to the humidity of the jungle," mutters T'Challa. "I can see how it would be uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable?" I echo. "I feel like maybe I'm being punished for something. Not all of us have air conditioning installed into our suits."
"Jealous?" comes Stark's voice from the comms as he soars somewhere overhead.
"No, I'm not jealous," I reply lightly as I draw an arrow from my quiver and notch it onto my bow, pausing to stretch back my arm, aiming up towards the canopy way in the distance where I imagine Tony to be flying. "Not at all."
Sam sees the move and smirks, his lips tightening to contain a laugh.
Keep it light. Keep it snarky.
Something I've learned during my career as field agent and resident archer. If you keep things light, keep a smile on your face, you don't drown in anxiety and fear. What ifs? I gave those up a long time ago. It's my coping mechanism, and I'm sticking with it.
There's movement in the distance.
"Hold," I mutter into the comms as I move into the shadows behind the tree, lowering my bow to aim at a grassy ledge I can see, maybe 900 meters away. Around me, T'Challa and Sam melt into the darkness, the Black Panther more effortlessly than the Falcon.
My sharp eyes hone in on the ledge, on the barely rustling bushes behind it.
Could be nothing. Could be a hell of a lot of something.
A figure, tall and armored, stealthily shoulders their way through the palm fronds, crouching low as it uses the high vantage point to survey the jungle beneath it.
"You guys seeing this?" I ask softly, my lips barely moving.
"It's one of those monsters who attacked Manhattan," Sam breathes back over the comms, our voices just loud enough to make out.
"I got a bead on it," I murmur, the tip of my arrow following the alien as it sticks to the shadows, low to the ground. "Should I take the shot?"
Always best to defer to team leader in these situations. Another hard lesson learned from the Avengers' early days when we were taking down Hydra bases in search of Loki's staff. Some of those missions were stealthier than others and required more...communication.
Taking down an enemy in enemy territory is always a risky play if you don't know where the other bad guys are.
"Proceed," orders T'Challa.
I let the arrow fly.
Silently, it cuts through the air with unprecedented speed, the vibranium tip encased in a matte black paint to prevent it from catching the light. Seconds later, it goes straight into the alien's left eye, and it collapses with a soft thump to the ground.
"Damn," Sam comments appreciatively.
"Hold position," T'Challa commands. "We don't know if it was a killing blow with this species."
I lower my bow. "Trust me, that sucker is dead."
When we approach the body, I kick it over, rolling it onto its back. Clean shot, almost went straight through the back of its skull. Sam whistles as I lean over and yank the arrow out, cleaning it on the grass before tucking it back into my quiver.
"That is disgusting," he remarks, crinkling his nose.
"What? You think arrows grow on trees around here? I have to consolidate."
"Still. That thing was covered in brains and shit."
"Better its brains than mine."
"So this is the face of our enemy," T'Challa stands over the body, hands curling into fists. "This is the face of the monsters who took my people."
"Ugly bastards," I toe the corpse. "How do you like being hunted, asshole?"
"Are you three finished playing around down there?" Stark's voice sounds off in my earpiece.
"Jealous?" I echo back. "First kill's mine, Tony. Score's one-zip."
"It was a lucky shot."
"We're coming up on something here, might be that ship Nat told us about," Rhodey cuts in before I can reply. "Northwest of your position, three miles ahead. Want us to check it out?"
"Proceed, but stay hidden. If you engage the hostiles, do it quick. Do it quiet," orders T'Challa as we take off into the jungle. "We are on our way."
"Hear that, Barton?" Stark calls out over the comms. "The score is about to tilt heavily in my favor."
"Enjoy it while it lasts, pal. Highest kill count gets eternal bragging rights. Loser buys everybody dinner when we get back home."
"I will enjoy every bite of that free dinner," Rhodey joins in. "when I kick your asses."
"You all better hope Okoye does not join in on this when she reaches the surface," T'Challa interjects. "She will leave you all in the dust."
Sam and I exchange looks as we run.
The game is most definitely afoot. And I have no intention of losing.
Keep it light. Keep it snarky. Don't think about the rest.
Peter Parker
I release a long breath. "Are you ready for this?"
"Yeah, I'm ready. Are you ready? Sorry, that's dumb, 'course you're ready, you asked the question."
I give Korg a sideways glance. The rock alien's face is blank of expression, his stature and voice completely nonchalant and relaxed.
God, I wish I was that chill.
Inside my chest is a mass of writhing nerves and old, phantom fears of a dark cell and blindingly white mountains. My skin feels too tight, too constricting, and the bars of the cage sometimes seem to scoot closer and closer to my body. That feeling of trapped-trapped-trapped-sneaking up on me whenever Korg or I are quiet for too long.
At least this time, I'm not alone.
I have a...well, sort-of friend, an ally at the very least, who's here with me. I have Korg. I'm not alone, and we have the shreds of a plan to escape, so not hopeless either.
"You ok? You seem sort of pale and terrified."
"Do I?" I ask absentmindedly, eyes roaming over the campsite.
"Yeah, a bit. Could be because we're trapped in this cage about to be tortured or mutilated, and our plan will likely end in our imminent deaths."
"Could be," I agree, swiping the sweat dripping from my forehead. I wish I had my mask. "I think this is gonna work."
"Even if it doesn't, at least we'll die brutally together," adds Korg cheerfully.
"Sure. We have that going for us at least."
"You remind me a lot of my old friend Miek. It's like having a piece of him with me," Korg announces, and my lips curve into a sad smile as he continues. "Not like an actual piece of him, that would be rather gross, but like a sentimental piece I can actually talk to and hopefully help save."
"Thanks, Korg."
It's kind of hard to stay too terrified with Korg around. His oddly bright demeanor mixed with his inability to not say whatever is on his mind, no matter how gruesome, is kind of grounding. Somehow he makes a terrible death sound not so bad, which hey, points for optimism and creative spins on things.
Were I alone I probably would have cracked like an egg and been a ball of hyperventilating mush in the corner.
There's movement in the bushes at the edge if the camp. Looks like the Dravec have finished laying their traps.
The leader is nowhere to be seen, but one of the hunters emerges from the depths of the jungle to join the second, who'd been left on guard duty with us. That one had spent its time cleaning weapons, making sure the blades were visible from where Korg and I are imprisoned.
The aliens converse in their strange amphibious hissing and clicking, and Korg and I exchange nervous glances.
It's not like I want them to be ready to torture one of us, but if Korg and I don't get out of this cage like, ASAP, the odds of the others tracking us down and getting caught up in the traps gets higher and higher. We have to get out of here before that happens.
"Where d'you reckon the leader went?" Korg asks quietly.
"I don't know," I mutter, eyeing the three worriedly before my eyes stray back to their equipment. It makes me nervous that I haven't seen the huge Dravec in hours. With luck, it went to join up with another group of hunters for a more exciting hunt.
I highly doubt it though.
This was its bloodthirsty plan, and something tells me that that alien likes to see things through to the gruesome end.
The hunters are gesturing towards the cage, and I stiffen. The pair begins to move towards us, wielding plasma rifles.
My heart begins to race wildly, my muscles coiling with tension as my breathing becomes shallower. This is it. We either do this and it works and we escape, or we do this and it all goes to hell. There's not much to lose at this point.
"I got you, New Miek," Korg whispers just as the aliens encircle the cage. He pats my shoulder reassuringly, and I wince at the feel of rocks slamming against my body, but appreciate the gesture all the same. Though I really don't know how I feel about being named after his previous friend that fell to his death.
The door opens.
There's a moment of bated breath, a moment where it seems the air itself has been zapped from the jungle as those bars slide up with a ringing hiss. Now only the alien hunters stand between us and freedom.
My eyes dart to the plasma rifles aimed straight for us in the gaps of the bars. Can't move yet. Not until they choose which one of us they are going to take.
The first alien reaches for me.
Version two of the plan then.
I let the alien's long fingers curl around my upper arm and pull me from the cage, and I drag my feet just as I pass the threshold. The moment I stand to my full height, taking my first step out of the cage, just as the alien begins to lower the barred door, Korg lunges with a yell.
The Dravec were expecting a desperate attempt, and we'd been counting on it. Just as the other alien opens fire at Korg, he throws himself back against the bars, the plasma energy blasts hitting the halfway shut door instead, blowing it clean off and into the cell.
Korg seizes it and charges, holding the door of our cage like a battering ram that he slams into the other alien's throat just as I twist free out of my captor's grasp and slam my fist right into its eye.
It shrieks, staggering back, and I take a running leap to deliver a hard spinning kick right into the side of its head. The alien drops to the ground, and as I land in a crouch, I spare a quick glance for Korg, to see that he's managed to knock the rifle out of the other alien's hands and is swinging the door of our cage like a baseball bat.
Gotta start phase two.
Holy shit this is actually working.
I charge towards the other end of the camp, towards the copse of trees I had seen glimpses of what I hoped were super badass alien horses. And as I sprint closer, I can see that I was right.
My god.
I can actually hear Dr. Grant's voice from Jurassic Park in my head, because the alien creatures tethered to those trees are probably the closest things I will ever see to dinosaurs in real life.
"Holy crap," I breathe, eyes wide at the raptor like heads, the four three-clawed muscled limbs, the scaly gray hides and spiked tails, the armored saddles, the crimson eyes and slitted pupils. "Awesome."
Or, it will be, if I get this to work without getting eaten.
I aim my webshooter at the pole tethering all four creatures, and then my spidey-sense goes wild. I whirl, ducking as the butt of a plasma rifle jabs for my skull. Leaping back and landing in a defensive crouch, my eyes widen.
The Dravec leader is back.
And it's pissed.
It flips the gun in its hand, aiming down its sights at me. I fire a web, and the moment it attaches to the rifle, I yank it hard out of the alien's grip. "I'll take that!"
When I catch it, I swing it around to point at the Dravec leader. My pulse is racing, and maybe all the adrenaline and lack of sleep have made me delirious, but I smirk at the alien and say in a low, rasping growl, "You've got to ask yourself one question. Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?"
It's a poor imitation, but Ned would be proud of the badassery of it.
I pull the trigger. It lets out a loud, ominous click, and my eyes shoot down to the weapon, its lights blinking red before guttering out with a sad sounding whine. "Ohhhhhh crap."
My gaze lifts, just as a massive hand wraps around my throat. I drop the useless weapon, reaching up to grab the alien's wrist, frantically pulling. Oh god, if it decides to release its wrist blade, I'm beyond dead.
I hang on to its forearm and kick up with both feet as hard as I can. The alien leader staggers back with a hiss, but doesn't let me go. Instead, it yanks me closer, spinning me around so my back is pressed against its armored chest.
One hand on the alien's wrist, I shoot out my arm towards the tethers holding the dinosaur-horse alien things, fingers reaching down to press onto the trigger in my palm, but the Dravec leader wrenches my arm behind my back so hard it nearly dislocates my shoulder.
Shit-shit-sh-
We turn together, and I see Korg pinned to the ground, both Dravec hunters trapping him, each with a foot on his rocky arms, plasma rifles aimed at his skull. Korg looks up at me with a grim expression. "Well, we tried at least. Hope they kill you quick, little buddy."
My stomach sinks even as my pulse shoots into overdrive. It had been a long shot, a desperate, half assed plan. But I had hoped-I had thought it could work. Instead, all we'd done was piss them off.
The hand on my throat squeezes, and I scrabble at it with my free hand as the Dravec leader pulls me along with it towards the strange, smokeless fire burning in the center of the camp.
I struggle as violently as I am able to in its grip, knowing that it means to hurt me, knowing that it's time to draw out as many of the Avengers as it can. As scared as I am about the pain, I know I've experienced worse. What terrifies me the most is the others coming to save me, only to fall into the traps laid out for them.
I don't want them to die because of me.
The Dravec's grip tightens suddenly, cutting off all my air. I try to wrench my arm out of its grasp, try to claw at the hand on my throat, but my struggles quickly weaken. My lips are parted, gasping for air that won't come as my lungs burn with unbearable fire, bruises blooming, throat crushing, spots erupting in front of my eyes-can't breathe-can'tbreathe-
I think I black out for a minute, because the next thing I know, I am on my stomach in the dirt, both arms pinned behind me, a massive hand encircling my wrists and a knee digging into my back. Wheezing, choking, my throat on fire, I turn my head to the side and try to wriggle free.
The Dravec hunter reaches towards the flames. It pulls out a metal poker, the end of which is perpendicular to the long pole, twisting in some strange kind of design, a design that is bright red-orange, nearly molten from the flames. The air around it sizzles and wavers, heat waves rising from the smoldering metal.
Oh god. I think-I think that's a brand.
I let out a hoarse cry as I try and buck the alien off of me, but it's too strong, too heavy.
No-no-no-no-no!
The Dravec leader's eyes glint, the light from the burning poker reflecting in its glassy gaze and off of the metal mask encircling the lower half of its face.
It lowers the brand, and I can already feel its heat as it nears, sweat pouring off my face, my heart hammering in my too tight chest, my teeth clenched together as I try to prepare myself for the pain, as I try to stifle the scream I know is building in my ravaged throat.
I press myself as hard as I can into the dirt, trying to squirm away from the unbearable heat nearing my shoulder, the sizzling sound growing, the metallic smell filing my nostrils, hotter and hotter and-
An earth shattering roar bellows its fury, so loud my hands flinch in the grasp of the Dravec leader as they try to automatically cover my ears.
Silence descends as we all freeze.
My heart lifts and sinks at the same time. I know that roar. I heard it on the streets of Manhattan before we were taken.
I turn my head, and Korg and I lock eyes as the aliens look around for the source of the roar. He gives me a nod that he also recognizes it, that this is our last chance to get out of here. I don't know if any of the traps the Dravec laid were Hulk-sized, but I don't want to stick around to find out.
Korg uses the distraction, shooting out his hands to reach up and grip an ankle of each of the Dravec hunters standing over him, and, stone muscles bulging, he yanks backwards, sending both of them sprawling to the ground.
The Dravec leader's grip on me loosens as it half turns to face the threat, the burning brand lifting away. I move, jerking my hands free and rolling onto my back as the alien staggers off of me. My foot meets its chin, knocking its head back as its mask cracks, the pieces clattering to the dirt. The branding tool falls, and I swipe it midair, continuing the motion to swing out blindly.
It lets out an amphibious shriek as the weapon collides with the side of its face, knocking it to the ground.
I lurch to my feet, staggering back and dropping the brand as the Dravec leader pushes itself to its hands and knees, its head slowly lifting to look back at me.
"Oh man." My eyes widen as I stumble back a few steps, the sounds of Korg's battle filling my ears. The Dravec's mask had shattered, revealing the hideous mouth of fangs and the holes tearing its face where a nose should be, and a blistering burn on its cheekbone, a glistening pink brand still sizzling.
It's like fetal Voldemort got tossed in the cauldron with the Predator.
It lunges for me with an enraged shriek, but I'm already moving, flipping over it's crouched body and landing in a crouch of my own. "Sorry, man, but to be fair, you were gonna brand me with that thing first."
I fire a web, the ends of it attaching to a weapons rack that I yank back hard. It comes flying, a mess of wood and daggers and spears that slam into the Dravec leader and crush the alien beneath its weight.
My webshooter lets out an ominous beep, and I glance quickly down to see a measly twelve percent of my web fluid is left. Crap.
"If you aren't too busy-" Korg shouts, and I see him locked in battle with the two remaining hunters. I charge forward, shooting another web, not for the aliens, but for the pole tethering the raptor-like alien horses. A sharp tug rips the pole from the ground, the tethers sliding free.
The vicious looking creatures seem to realize they're no longer tied to anything, and with a burst of trilling screeches, they charge into the camp. Their massive legs carry them across the clearing in a handful of steps, their bodies plowing through the structures and cases of supplies and weapons like they aren't even there.
Korg throws himself to the side, but the startled Dravec aren't as quick. The alien raptors trample the first hunter, and the second tries to leap out of the way, but is snatched up in one of the creature's huge jaws.
This is either the most badass or the stupidest thing I have ever done.
The alien raptors are charging towards me, and I stand my ground.
"Please don't eat me, please don't eat me, please don't eat me." At the last second, I dodge to the side as the first alien raptor reaches me, and my hand shoots up to grip one of the huge spikes sprouting from its back. "Whoa!"
My arm is nearly wrenched out of its socket as my feet lift from the ground, my body slamming into the alien raptor's as I reach up with my other hand to seize the saddle.
Either it doesn't notice or it doesn't care that I am now desperately clinging to its back, because it keeps charging. I glance warily back, but the other alien raptors are more intent on getting away than they are on eating me.
"Korg!" I shout, craning my neck to see over the charging creatures as my feet lift up stick to the side of the alien raptor's thick hide.
Korg is sprinting to catch up, but waves me on. "Go, New Miek, go! Be free! Long live the revolution!"
"Korg!" But he's lost from view as the alien raptors charge into the jungle.
Pulling myself up into the saddle, I cling for dear life to the beast, already imagining how I'm going to tell Ned I rode a freaking dinosaur if I actually survive this.
Another roar shakes the trees around us, and the creatures pull up short at the sound, intimidated and unsure. In the distance, there's a break in the canopy, revealing a grassy expanse of hills through the trees, and I see billows of smoke rising up into the sky.
That's the Hulk down there, I'm sure of it, and if he's there, maybe Bucky is too! I am just wondering how the hell I'm going to get the alien raptors to charge down there without kicking my heels into its sides and getting my face bitten off, when a shadow streaks above us.
I look up, gaping at the alien ship, black and twisting and streaked in red, as it soars above the jungle canopy in the direction of the smoke, in the direction of Hulk's bellowing voice. There's a fight going down, and it's a big one.
The alien raptors charge forward, following the ship, probably conditioned to associate it with food or the promise of violence, and I just hold on the best I can, trying to make myself small and light and inconspicuous as we charge towards the battle.
A/N:
SO. Crazy story. Yesterday I got a mystery package in the mail, and even though I asked literally everyone I could think of, including Amazon who assured me it was not a scam, no one I know sent it to me. What was in the mystery package, you may ask?
A tablet and attachable keyboard.
I am blown away by the generosity of this mystery gift giver, who somehow knew I needed a computer and sent it to me anonymously. If you guys took a moment to pray for me, I want to thank you, because clearly, a miracle occurred! Stunned. I seriously still can't believe it.
Special thanks to Pippin Strange, Beta Supreme. She's been reading sneak previews for a future fic in this series and has been giving me the BEST feedback and fangirling. As usual, she is killing it in the beta department and is such a genius writer. Have you guys read her fic Where They Go? This last chapter actually made me CRY. It's so damn good.
The amount of love you guys had for Korg rocked my world. He was an unexpected addition to me too, so I'm happy you enjoyed him too! XD I'm so glad you guys enjoyed that last chapter so much! And the Wanda and Loki section got a ton of love too! YAY! That thrills me. I thought long and hard about them meeting, about the connection between his staff and her powers, though he doesn't know that yet. Definitely will have more interactions from them coming.
Also, I thought it would be fun if after the end of your review (SERIOUSLY BLESS EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU THAT LEAVES ME A REVIEW, I ADORE YOU), if you could tell me where you're from! State, Country, whatever you are comfortable sharing! I know I have a couple out of country readers and would love to see if there are more, or how many we have here in the States! You guys, your support and kindness overwhelm me. I feel very loved.
Thank you,
readingisapriority: ikr?
harold-the-rabbit: Omg thank you! I love writing Peter! And Korg! XD Thanks so much for your kind thoughts!
KHARAKI TAKAN: Valkyrie escaped with the other Asgardians when Thor's ship was attacked by the Dravec. She led them to safety. And thank you!
DarylDixon'sLover: I hope so too!
Blaney: Thank you! technology problems really do suck! I am beyond surprised and grateful for my mystery fix! I'm so glad you liked Korg. And the grandmaster thing was great XD. Thanks!
Heroes21: Revolution! WHOO! XD
MewWinx96: THANKS! So glad you liked this last chapter, and hope this one didn't disappoint! Hope you are ready for the next one!
EmilyF.6: Thank you very much! Yay that you love this last chapter and Korg and the Wanda and Loki scene! That makes me so happy! More to come!
sparklydog9: Yay Korg!
Kairianna864: Thank you very much! I worked hard on Korg and watched a loooooot of Thor Ragnarok to get his voice down. XD
Bethisafan77: Thanks! :D :D :D :D
StarStepper: Omg thank you! Makes me so happy to hear when people really enjoy my writing! A fractured elbow sounds painful!
monkeybaby: Thanks!
Puppens101: Thank you! It really has been a rough period, but things are clearly starting to look up! :O Glad you enjoyed!
Lailuh: Thank you for your patience and kindness! It really means so much to me!
Kirby Lane: Why thank you! Carpal Tunnel SUCKS for sure. I hate being limited on how much I can do. Especially when it's something I love. We are most definitely getting this battle started! There will definitely be more interactions between Wanda and Loki, as I think it's a super interesting dynamic, since his staff gave her her powers, and Loki is not one to shy away from power. Thanks for your support!
EleanorGardner: Korg! XD Thank you so much!
NyxieDust: Thank you very much! Korg and Peter are such a great duo, and don't worry, we will see more Korg! Thank you so much for your kind words and support!
Guest: LONG LIVE THE REVOLUTION
KiernanCo: Yasssss! Let's get these Avengers back together! Thanks so much!
LoonyLovegood1981: They feel so long to me XD But don't worry, the next one will be super long, even if I split them up! Ragnarok is hilarious! I love that one! XD Thank you so much!
Ghost Staffy: THANK YOU! I love my bingers! lol! Tony's upgrade does indeed contain vibranium, and we will see about Shuri. ;) Korg and Peter should definitely have more adventures together. XD They are hilarious to write
Sara B: Omg I loved hearing all your thoughts about the chapter. That is just the best to me. I also had no plans to include Korg, but he found his way in there! XD And YES, if I were stuck on an alien planet and found out Thor was there too somewhere, I'd be hightailing it in his direction. XD George of the Jungle cracked me up too. LOL. Poor Peter. I'm so glad you loved that chapter and hope you liked this one as well!
cargumentluv: YAY! I'm so glad you enjoyed! Hope you liked this one with more Clint and T'Challa and Tony!
Shannon: Yay life! lol! Glad you liked the game! I don't have a playstation unfortunately so I am restricted to watching clips on youtube. I did pass on your message to PippinStrange, (we had a good laugh), and she got right to posting a new update! lol! Hope you enjoyed that as well! I love the retelling of Down Came the Rain, too. SO beautiful.
screechyfangirl: Yay!
Beachchick4: Thank you! Oh my word! You are too kind! Lots more suspense to come!
GinaBoo: Thanks for your kind words! It's been rough, but it seems like things are finally starting to turn around again! I also really enjoyed Wanda and Loki interacting, and I'm glad you did too! Yay KORG! omg he is so funny. Thank you again for your kindness and well wishes!
Luckias: Thank you so much! I never planned on Korg, he just kind of happened, so I'm glad he got such an overwhelming response!
BeccaRave: YAS. More to come!
TeamCaptain2016: Thank you very much! You're so kind! :)
Ravenclaw Black Mamba: More Bucky and Peter fluff coming up! If not in the next chapter, then definitely soon!
gandalf537: Yay! Missed you guys! Thank you for your understanding and your kindness, I really appreciate it. I'M SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER! I LOVED hearing your thoughts! Wanda is such a badass, just you wait. Tony and Shuri and Peter and Korg! Eeeee! Im so glad you loved Korg as much as I loved writing him!
AppleSpongeCake: I missed you guys so much! You don't even know! Much love!
icotnoir: Thank you! Will do! Glad you enjoyed!
ImmortalDragon123456: Thanks!
Writer-at-Heart0: Thank you!
Leiah Cloud: Omg you are too kind! Ct is awful! Really hoping I don't wind up needing surgery at some point. And yes to backing up computers! I only type on google doc, and have for many months because I knew my laptop's death was coming! Terrible stuff! Thank you so much!
Guest: KORG! :D I'm so happy you enjoyed the Wanda meets Loki bit, and I totally agree, would have been so interesting to see her in the first film! Thank you so much!
You guys may have guessed it, but we are at the big epic finale! I haven't decided whether it's going to be one big chapter or split it into two, because I've already written so much for it, and I still have a ways to go! Either way, the next chapter is going to be INTENSE.
COMING UP:
Chapter Sixteen: Riders in the Sky
This is it. The big one. The fate of our heroes is decided in the ultimate battle of Avengers vs Dravec
"Their brands were still on fire and their hooves were made of steel
Their horns were black and shiny and their hot breath he could feel
A bolt of fear went through him as they thundered through the sky
For he saw the riders coming hard and he heard their mournful cry"
-Johnny Cash "Riders in the Sky"