Hello, readers!
Time for another batch of updates. Look at me go! Doing work and stuff, even though I hate life. I didn't change too much of what happened in this chapter, mostly just tried to kinda shoe-horn Brutus in there and make it seamless. Otherwise, I beefed up the description and cleaned some messy passages, edited for consistency with what happened in the rest of the story...etc.
I said "at first" too much in this chapter but it's TOO LATE TO GO BACK AND CHANGE IT NOW. Hopefully, it's less than I think it is. Maybe I'll go back later and deal with it, but now is not that time.
This chapter is updated as of 6/1/2017
~ Crayola
Chapter Fifteen
Able to Fight
Even with Wolf and his friend nearby, it was still hard not to run from the behemoth charging at us. My legs jerked, trying to make me move, but it was like being stuck in the headlights of a semi-truck. I couldn't move, even as the Queen came closer and closer to trampling me.
A strong hand gripped the back of my jacket and yanked me to the side, tearing the fabric. It almost wasn't strong enough to hold.
I stumbled toward Wolf, pulled slightly off of my feet. The Queen charged passed us and slammed head-first into the wall behind us. The wall dented with the impact, but the Queen kept her footing and staggered for a moment, trying to turn around while dazed.
Wolf spun me around and set me up straight on my feet. When he let go of me, I struggled to keep my balance, then took a breath.
Had to focus.
Life or death here.
Brutus smacked me on the bad shoulder, snarling, and I nearly buckled from the pain. Teeth grinding, I hunched over and tried not to collapse. The meaning was clear—I was being reprimanded. He didn't want me to drag them down. To drag Wolf down.
The Queen finally regained her composure and turned to us, black hide tinted orange by the ship burning in the corner.
"What's the plan?" I asked, glancing at Wolf from the corner of my eyes.
His response was to cloak. My jaw nearly hit the floor and I turned, looking wildly around for him or Brutus, but they were both gone. I took a few fearful steps back, but I felt Wolf's hand grip my arm and steady me. He was with me. I only took a little bit of solace in that fact.
My breathing started to come more rapidly, close to hyperventilating. I knew I was bait but did I really have to be bait now? Couldn't these things still tell they were around even when invisible?
The air rippled as Wolf took off somewhere. At first, I thought I would have to deal with the Queen alone, but she turned her head sharply to follow him, and then stomped in the same direction, screeching in a challenge.
So. . .wait. What now? What was the point!
Something threw its weight into me and I screamed despite myself. The floor came up hard and I slammed into it, driving the air from my lungs. My head smacked hard onto the crust-covered floor and stars broke out across my vision.
One of the drones! How could I be so stupid?
I fought to focus my mind and blink the blurriness out of my eyes. A headache had already exploded in my skull, making my pulse throb against my temples. Now was not the time to succumb to pain. I had to stand, I had to fight—
When I tried to shift my weight onto my knees, something yanked on my ankle and I sprawled out again, slamming my shoulder into the ground to keep from landing on my chest. Before I could figure out a way to get the upper hand and turn the tables, I was being dragged across the floor. Just out of reach was my weapon, moving farther and farther away.
"No no no no no no!" I used my free leg and leveraged against the floor to fling myself forward. However, my palms slapped against the empty surface and my weapon was left behind.
Somehow I managed to push down the growing panic. I grit my teeth and turned enough to see the drone. It was dragging me over to a stack of eggs; one last ditch effort to bolster the ranks. Then I didn't have much time. I flipped over and kicked at the bug's claws until I landed a blow hard enough for its spindly fingers to recoil and let me go.
I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could and made a bee-line for my weapon. Though I slipped a few times on wet slime, I kept moving forward. When it was within reach, I dove on top of it, but the drone pounced on me as well and I caught a glance of a green checker-patterned wound.
Its weight forced my body flat, but at least I had the blade. I fumbled with it, trying to grab the hilt, but the drone was scratching and screeching in my ears, shattering my concentration.
When it started to pull me away again, I grabbed any part of the weapon I could and swung backward at an awkward angle. It caught the creature in the arm and cleaved it straight off, but the blade bit into my palm and I dropped it almost immediately, hissing through clenched teeth. As quickly as I dropped it, though, I scooped it back up by the hilt and tried to ignore the blood seeping down my wrist and the stinging pain in my palm.
Checkers—as I dubbed the bug hassling me—hissed and squealed, pulling its stubby arm against its chest. I stood, holding up my weapon, and waited for its move. Acid blood dripped copiously from the wound I'd made, and I wasn't keen on going anywhere near that.
While neither of us made a move, I took quick stock of what was going on around me. No more drones around, just Checkers. The rest had teamed up with the Queen to try and combat Wolf and Brutus. The parasites were on the ropes, the number of drones down to Checkers and two others. There wasn't much else I could glean without taking my eyes completely off my opponent.
Fangs bared at me, my opponent lashed its tail behind it. When it tried to approach, I moved back. Checkers screeched and lashed out at me with its tail. I had barely enough time to recoil away from the barbed tip, swinging my blade at the same time out of instinct. I jumped away when a chunk of tail skittered across the floor.
The drone screeched in pain and withdrew, giving me a chance to move in with my blade up. Checkers lifted its slick head and wailed, flinging its tail around. Blood arched through the air and I hit the ground, ducking under the blood and gasping. I wriggled to avoid any more splashes, but my pant leg started to hiss and smoke. I used my weapon to cut the piece off and flung it as far as it would go, clenching my fist after accidentally touching part of it. My fingertips burned, but not near as bad as my shoulder had.
I rubbed them on the ground, using the slime to soothe the burn, and tried to keep my head up to keep track of my opponent. Checkers seemed just as wary of approaching me as I was it. Its nub tail was poised over its body as if it had realized it could keep me away with the mere threat of being sprayed with acid.
With neither of us wanting to move in closer, we were at an impasse. I had to find some way to kill it, though, so I could go help Wolf—and Brutus, I supposed. Every time I glanced in their direction, it seemed like they were evenly matched with the Queen. They had managed somehow to move out of that corner, and the Queen was caught between the two predators, trying to decide which of the two to focus on, only to have the other cut in.
It seemed like she might have even been limping. In any case, she was unhappy and screeching her malcontent with each blow received.
My pulse was beating against my skull and chest, but the adrenaline kept me thinking at least semi-clearly. I edged around the drone, glancing at my surroundings. There had to be something I could use, anything. The scout ship was still burning, but the edges of the room were still in darkness. Any lighting was better than nothing, though.
Behind all the fear and determination was the intense want to call out for Wolf. I stopped myself several times, though my jaw worked up and down. He had his own problem. Bigger problems.
I could handle this drone . . . I just had to figure it out.
But how was I going to kill it if I couldn't get close to it? How did it expect to do the same?
For a brief moment, I thought about throwing my weapon at it. Maybe I'd impale Checkers and be done. However, I didn't trust myself not to miss and once disarmed, that would be the end of it. It wasn't the kind of gamble I wanted to make.
We circled each other like two cats. One of us was going to have to break the cycle. Why did I have the feeling it was going to be me?
A distraction came from across the room. Wolf's roar echoed through the big room and I turned to look—he was on the floor, but at least trying to jump to his feet. The Queen was opposite him, about ten yards, and had Wolf's wrist blades stuck in her crest, torn straight out of his gauntlet. He wasn't unarmed, at least, with his large spear in hand. Brutus was on the Queen's back, keeping her from descending upon Wolf.
Screeching turned me back to my own fight. It startled me into taking a step backward; Checkers was coming at me. The thing knew I had been distracted, and it took its chance. I had enough time to fall on my ass before it was on top of me. I cried out and thrust my weapon upward, chipping off Checkers' shoulder spine, but it twisted and wrenched the blade from my hand.
It skidded across the ground, bouncing onto a piece of machinery.
"Shit!" I spat out.
The thing scraped its claws across my face and I cried out in pain, kicking wildly. I managed to land a lucky blow and sent the thing reeling, but before I could scramble to my feet and get to the weapon, it jumped on top of me again. Snarling, I groped around with one hand while using the other to push the drones head away from my face and came up with nothing but a handful of dried-up slime. I pulled the fistful of crust away from the ground, then shoved it hard into the drone's mouth.
Checkers reared back, scrabbling at its mouth with its one good hand. I slipped out from under it and sprinted in the direction my weapon had flown. I knew that little stunt wasn't going to keep Checkers at bay for long—I could already hear its heavy footfalls behind me—but I prayed it would be long enough. Prayed that I was fast enough.
I was within reach. I fell to my knees and picked it up. Just as soon as it was in my hand, I swung backward in a wild arch. Checkers screamed and I heard the sound of tearing flesh. I was on my feet, turned to face it. The drone had a new cut on his head, and he was backing up.
No more playing chicken. I lunged toward Checkers as it swung its tail, but by now the blood had clotted and no acid splashed at me. Putting all my weight into this one lunge, I drove the blade through the top of the drone's head, all the way up to the hilt. It slumped almost immediately and I crouched there on my knees, panting, still holding the blade.
There wasn't enough time in the world to catch my breath. The Queen was making a terrible cacophony of noises—not that she hadn't been this whole freaking time—and I frantically searched around for where everyone was.
Sometime during my kill, the Queen had dislodged Brutus from her back and was bearing back down on Wolf. I didn't even know where Brutus was, just that he was no longer on the Queen.
It didn't seem like he was making any progress. Wolf was dodging her tail and leaping out of the way of her jaws. It was like an awkward dance—one would make a move, the other would trot out of the way. She was missing a chunk of her crown and Wolf was bleeding from a deep puncture in his shoulder. I was glad that I had decided not to call out to him for help.
There was the fact that Brutus probably would have killed me outright if I had, too. He had made it clear that I was not to be a hindrance.
And if I wanted to avoid that and get off this ship anytime soon, I'd have to do my job.
I looked around, then yanked my blade out from where it was stuck. It took a few times with me throwing my entire weight into it, but eventually, it pulled free and I stumbled back. Catching myself, I made a furtive run around the sides of the room.
What better shot did I have at distracting the Queen than by destroying her brood?
It was the only thing I could think to do, at least. It wasn't going to pay me any attention when Wolf and Brutus were a bigger threat. If anything else, I would be doing the lord's work by destroying those stupid eggs.
So, carefully, I made my way toward the gathered eggs. Checkers had tried so hard to bring me over there, now I was doing it voluntarily.
Brutus had returned to my field of vision, sporting a heavy limp. Dutifully, though, he charged the Queen and joined the fray with Wolf—only to be smacked back across the room post haste by the queen's thrashing tail.
Nothing I could do except hope my plan worked.
At first, I wasn't sure what the most effective way of doing it was, but then I decided egg massacre didn't have to be pretty. I started hacking, chopping, and slicing my way through the eggs, but when I didn't immediately hear an outraged scream from the Queen, I stopped in mid-chop and looked up to see what was so much more important than the mutilation of her offspring.
Wolf went sliding across the ground and I made a startled sound somewhere between a scream and being choked. The Queen followed after him while snarling, and I stood up a little straighter.
"Hey! Hey, bitch!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, jumping up and down. She squealed and turned to face me, body heaving with the effort of coming to a sudden stop. Her unseeing head extended slightly and she bared her fangs at me.
Her chest was heaving, and her lips were drawn back in a silent threat. I stared back, suddenly unsure of where I was going with this, partially frozen under her gaze.
So I just chopped another egg in half. Why stop now?
She reared back and let out a terrible cry of pain and anger that made me start violently. It was the kind of sound that filled me with dread and made my blood run cold. I had just made a terrible enemy—not that she wasn't already an enemy, but before it was just because I was there. Now I'd made her angry. Now I'd created some sort of grudge monster.
I stepped back and clutched my weapon—that suddenly felt tiny and useless in my hands—against my chest and tried not to tremble.
Her head swept right then left, as if taking in the rest of the eggs, and then she roared and charged me. My breath caught in my throat and I stumbled backward. I wound up tripping over an egg and fell flat on my ass.
Every uncertainty I'd felt, every insecurity, played across my mind. What was I doing? I wasn't a fighter. I wasn't some sort of warrior. When I played soccer I wasn't on the front lines, I was in the back between some goal posts. It was nothing short of a miracle that I had lasted this long. How was I going to fight this thing off?
There was no way I was going to be able to do this.
Why was I even trying? Now I was just going to get eaten, or skewered . . . .
She stopped at the edge of the egg nest she'd created and stepped around them, somehow still managing to bear down on me with all the power of a train. I lifted my weapon and readied to defend myself. I'd drive it into her skull or something. However, something snapped into view and wrapped around the Queen's arm. She was pulled into the ground and smashed into several of the eggs.
I had to leap to my feet and sprint out of the way to avoid being crashed into. Wolf was off to the side, holding a—was that a whip? He yanked on it hard and the Queen's arm came clean off. She screeched in pain and struggled to stand up. Meanwhile, Wolf flourished the whip, then cracked it when she turned her head toward him, slicing a deep gouge in her exposed throat. I thought for sure that would be a fatal blow, but she was on her feet.
And she was angry.
The Queen's tail arched and she turned slightly to the side, fighting range with range. She lashed out to stab at Wolf, but he moved back and snapped the whip, making her draw the appendage back with a fresh wound. If she hadn't swept it out of the way, he probably would have been sliced it off.
For a brief moment, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be doing. He seemed to have the upper hand now, though I wondered why he didn't just end it quick with that shoulder-mounted cannon. A closer look revealed that it was missing. Had he lost it one of those times he was laid out? Did he abandon it when it ran out of ammo?
I swept my gaze across the large room, looking for his cannon. I had to skulk around the edges, behind the eggs and sticking close to the wall. The Queen made it hard to see as she darted around, avoiding the bite of Wolf's whip.
Momentarily, I wondered if Brutus was alright.
But then I spotted it, near the center of the room. The occasional sparks had brought my attention to it, and that answered the question of whether or not it had been knocked off him.
Maybe it wasn't working, but I wanted to pick it up anyway. Wolf might not have had the time to, and it looked like it was still mostly intact. If anything, I could try to find the time to give it to him and perhaps he'd be able to use it.
However, I found myself unwilling to try and grab it up off the floor, what with all the electrical discharge from the severed wiring. So I left it where it lay. No wonder he hadn't picked it up.
Despite the absolute terror and unrelenting trembling, I still felt like there was something I should be doing to help. Part of me understood that this would have to be mostly on them, but there was surely something I could do. Cut off her tail, or distract her again, or anything. Could he kill her with just a whip? I couldn't see his spear anywhere, so he must have lost it, as well.
My fingers gripped the blade in my hand and I glanced at it with a sharp flick of my eyes. I could give him the blade back . . . he'd lost his wrist blades in the Queen's crest, he'd need a slashing weapon. At least I knew for sure it would work. Not like the spark-emitting firearm on the ground.
It would also be more reliable than trying to find Brutus. He might have been dead or unconscious for all I knew. Laid out and useless. All looking for him would do was waste time and make it more likely that the Queen killed Wolf.
And I cared a lot more about Wolf than I did Brutus. So that was my reason for being.
Get the giant knife-sword to some alien warrior so he could chop the head off of an alien parasite. It felt good to have a plan.
So, I grasped on to that little bit of meaning and my grip tightened not out of fear, but resolve. I stalked around the edge of the room, watching and waiting. Wolf continued to lash with the whip, and the Queen continued to sustain more and more wounds. Her gait faltered several times, and her head drooped. By the amount of smoke covering the floor, I figured she had lost quite a bit of blood. Wolf was bleeding from several spots, too, but not the copious amounts she was.
Now it was her backing up and trying to dodge lashes of the whip. I edged closer and closer until I was only a few feet away from Wolf. He had closed the gap between him and the Queen enough that each crack of his whip landed somewhere on his prey. She was curled and defensive, crying more than screeching. It was now or never.
"Wolf! Catch!"
He turned his head just a little bit and I did my best to toss my blade in a way he could catch it. It soared in a little arch, and at first, I thought it was going to land way short, but Wolf rolled to intercept and caught it by the hilt.
The Queen turned her head toward me and I stepped back, but I had moved within her range. She squealed and lashed out with her tail, barely missing me with the spike by a few inches. The thickest part of her tail caught me in the ribs and I was thrown several feet across the room, landing on the floor in a heap. The breath was knocked clean out of my lungs and I wheezed painfully, doubled over.
Recovery was a luxury I wasn't allowed quite yet, though, and I forced myself to roll and see what happened, forced myself to my hands and knees. I kept my arms wrapped around my abdomen, coughing, but I had to watch, had to know if he'd be okay.
If I'd need to help again.
It was hard through the white spots obscuring my vision, and I blinked several times to clear it, but it didn't help. Still, I saw enough.
Wolf rolled back up to his feet and as the Queen turned her attention back to him, he spun with all the grace of a weird muscular dancer, slashing with the knife in a whirl of movements. At first, I thought he'd missed, but in the time it took me to blink and wheeze in some air, the Queen twisted and fell to the floor. The force of impact made her head pop right off.
Wholly disgusting, but I was too relieved to care. I let out the breath I'd been holding—wincing at the pain—and let myself fall limp on the floor.
She was dead.
The Echo was dead.
All that was left was any straggling drones, any juveniles waiting to grow. My body was heavy with dried slime and blood. Fatigue seemed through my limbs and I was content to catch my breath for a moment, one of only a handful I'd had all night.
Almost done. We'd jumped the biggest hurdles.
Finally.
