CNBR Chapter 9:
Several hours later the sun began to sink below the trees. Team CNBR made one final check of their packs and equipment as they waited for dusk to fall. Reese examined her board for the seventh time, sitting back against a wall in the tea room. She looked at Blake, who sat in a corner with her legs folded, drumming her fingers against Gambol Shroud's sheath.
"Hey Blake," she said. The dark-haired girl looked over, but didn't say anything. Reese continued:
"Last night you made some comment about that Faunus we questioned. You said he was another thing to worry about. I forgot about it with everything else that happened, but you sounded pretty worried. Care to explain?"
Blake rose and poured herself a cup of tea. She sat next to Reese, washed down an aspirin with the tea, and stared into her mug.
"Have you ever seen a reptile Faunus before?" she asked.
Reese started to reply, then paused. She'd once watched an ox Faunus toss Bolin forty feet out of a pit fight with his horns. Arslan had studied some advanced knife techniques under a lithe woman with falcon talons in place of fingernails. And of course, Sun Wukong had been a prominent figure at Haven. She'd met dozens of Faunus in Mistral over the years, mostly in the alleys and back-rooms of the kingdom's less reputable neighborhoods. But not once had she encountered scaly skin, legs replaced by tails, or poison fangs.
Reese shook her head. "No," she said, surprised.
"You've never seen one with insect or arachnid traits either, have you?"
"Definitely not, those would be hard to miss."
Blake sipped at her tea. "Why do you think that is? I doubt you spend much time among Mistral's nobility, so I'm sure you've seen your share of Faunus. Why do you think you never encountered any with the traits I mentioned until last night?"
Reese shrugged. "Mistral's better than Atlas, but they're not exactly leading the charge for Faunus rights. I guess Mistral just won't let them into the cities."
Blake rolled her eyes. "Right, because Mistral's run-down districts and criminal underworld obey every single mandate the kingdom passes."
"Okay, when you put it that way it sounds stupid, but you're suggesting that a bunch of Faunus in hiding, thieves, cons, mercenaries, and criminal organizations actually agreed on something, and the only time that happens is when—"
Reese stopped. Her eyebrows rose in comprehension.
"Now you get it," Blake said. "Some Faunus have it worse than others. They possess animal traits from species that people find more frightening than cats or rabbits. Faunus like you've met avoid them out of almost identical fears, or the desire to not be reviled by association. I've witnessed a lot of injustice in my life, personally, and as an observer, but the isolation and cruelty they suffer is in a class of its own. Can you imagine being driven from your home by Atlas soldiers, only to be banished further, sometimes violently, by those who were exiled alongside you? It's sad, and cruel, and tragic—and it inspires a dangerous desperation in those who suffer such persecution. The White Fang loves recruiting Faunus like that."
"They're ready-made fanatics," Reese said.
Blake nodded. "That's the main reason. The other is that their animal traits are often very useful. Greater physical strength and speed, poisons, camouflage abilities, the list goes on. I'll bet all the lien I own that lizard Faunus' arm has grown back when we see him again. It might not have all its muscle back, but he'll have it."
They both sat quietly for a few moments. Eventually, Reese coughed.
"What you're saying," Reese said, "Is that we've got an uphill battle ahead of us."
Blake sniffed and sipped her tea. "For someone so over the top, you have a remarkable gift for understatement."
…
The last rays of sun glowed red from behind the western trees, casting the forest's edge into gray and shadow. Combined with the ashes from the previous night's fire, Crescent Hollow and the surrounding fields resembled the cooling remnants of a massive campfire. High in the trees on the South side of the clearing, downwind of the village, the lingering scent of smoke reinforced that impression.
Sable coughed, raising a hand to stifle the noise. With two of her other hands, she hung from a branch, leaning out from the tree she stood in. A fourth hand held a pair of binoculars up to her eyes, while she clutched the wrist of her fifth hand with her sixth. She made an irritated sound as she stared at the village.
"I see five ways into the village from this side alone. Once the sun goes down, I can go in, head for the gate—"
"And get shot before you can open it?" a mellow bass voice asked. "Our other climbers are incapacitated in one way or another, so you'd be on your own, and they'll be guarding the gates. Maybe if our cloaking devices still worked, you could do it, but you'll just be one more casualty if you try now."
Sable looked up and scowled. "They'll ruin everything, Clay."
Higher up, the snake Faunus had coiled his tail around the trunk of the tree, the earth tone colors of his skin broken into patterns that helped him blend into the wood. A lazy smile spread across his face.
"Patience, Sable. I guarantee you they can't summon help now. Otherwise, our comrades closer to Vale would have reported incoming reinforcements. We have time to wait."
Sable made a disgusted sound, eliciting a chuckle from Clay, then turned back to watching the village.
"Our brothers and sisters were wounded or killed last night, and you act like nothing happened." Sable said. "What is wrong with you?"
"Oh, Sable." Clay wound his way down the tree and placed his hands on Sable's shoulders. He flexed his hands for a moment, and Sable flinched at the brief demonstration of his strength. "I feel the same way, it's just not time yet. Discipline is key. Ash keeps saying that, young one, but you don't listen."
"Ash wasn't too disciplined after she found out about Malcolm," Sable said.
"But she did compose herself. She doesn't want us caught off guard again, so we observe. Have faith, the huntresses will get their due in time. Especially the turncoat."
Sable began to smile, then noticed a flash of movement at the walls.
"Clay…"
Four figures cloaked in gray rappelled down the wall, landed in the ashes below, and began sprinting for the woods, keeping low to the ground. Sable stowed her binoculars and began to climb down. She jerked to a stop as Clay grabbed one of her wrists.
"Wait," he said.
Sable climbed back up and looked again. Farther along the wall, another group of four climbed over the wall and ran to a point in the trees several hundred yards to the right of the other group. A third group appeared and ran to a spot the same distance away on the opposite side of the first group. Two more groups of four ran from the each of the two gates. A couple minutes later, another pair of teams entered the woods on the North side of the clearing. Sable clenched all six of her fists, her fingernails carving grooves in the rubber covering the binoculars.
Clay let out a warm chuckle. "This just got fun."
…
"I don't get how you do it," Reese hissed. "This whole fast and silent thing is a frigging hoax."
"Whining about it isn't helping," Blake hissed back.
The trail Team CNBR followed was only wide enough for single-file movement, but thick vegetation growing on either side concealed it from the rest of the forest. The four huntresses moved along the trail, leaving large spaces between themselves to avoid collisions when Blake slowed or accelerated without warning. Shortly after night fell, Blake drew to a stop and unfolded the map Royce had marked.
"Okay," Blake said. "I don't think anyone's following us; our little ruse with the villagers worked for now. They'll start circling back soon, which means we need to go east to reach the sawmill. The next trail Royce marked should be about fifty yards that way through thick brush."
"How long does it look like it'll take?" Coco asked.
"Five or six minutes to get to the next hidden trail without leaving obvious signs; an hour for the rest if we don't run into anything that forces us to slow down."
"Then let's keep moving."
The four huntresses crept through the brush with agonizing slowness. Clouds blocked out the moon, casting the entire forest into near-darkness. Reese shuffled along, resting her hand on Blake's back to navigate the woods without tripping. The vegetation grew thicker on Royce's new trail than it did on the previous one, keeping them from maintaining their original pace.
When the finally came upon the sawmill, it was near midnight. They stopped and waited as Blake sat and observed, listening for the softest sound or the slightest bit of movement. After almost half an hour, Blake gestured with her hand, and the four of them followed her as they slipped inside the mill. Once inside, Reese retrieved the parts of her sledge and began to reassemble it, while the others went for the supply crates tucked behind a pile of lumber.
"Remember, take only what we need," Coco said. "Area denial and crowd control munitions, raw dust, and anything we might use to summon help faster. Anything else we can carry is a bonus."
Nora reached down and yanked one crate up, stumbling a little as she raised it over her head. The color drained from her face.
"I remember these being a lot heavier."
Nora's words sent everyone's pulse racing. The four huntresses whirled around, peering into the darkness for anyone watching, but all they saw were shadows and old tools. A chuckle rose from somewhere in the building.
"Typical huntress arrogance, I heard you coming a mile away. I'll give you points for hiding your little arsenal. If we hadn't anticipated your trail we would never have thought to search this building. I wonder, what does this toy do?"
A grenade broke through the glass in a window set high up on the wall. Blake was halfway up a ladder to a catwalk mounted on the opposite wall when it went off. There was a loud bang, and the room filled with thick smoke like water bursting through a dam.
Coco coughed violently, her lungs burning and her diaphragm aching as she struggled to get air. Elsewhere in the smoke, Nora let out heavy wheezing sounds, and Reese made a series of choking noises that sounded like the prelude to vomiting. Coco's eyes watered as she struggled to see through the haze. There was a loud crash as the sawmill doors swung open. She spun towards the sound and saw indistinct figures moving in the haze.
Coco growled and clicked the conversion switch on Belle Mort, aiming its barrels at the figures in front of her. Its motor began to whine when two more Black Fang rushed her from the side. One leapt atop the gun, yanking the barrels towards the ground so most of the rounds struck the floor. The other struck her wrist with a collapsible baton, causing her to drop her gun. Coco grunted and stepped back, clutching her wrist, before surging forward again to throw a punch at the nearest attacker.
She brought one down with a solid hit to the jaw. Someone grabbed her good arm and tried to joint lock it, but she brought her heel down on his foot, then shoved him to the ground. Coco spun back, fists raised, but three rushed her at once. One tackled her, wrapping his arms around her knees and sending her crashing to the floor. The other two each took an arm, and pinned them to the ground. Coco thrashed against them, trying to break free, but their grip stayed firm, holding her in place. A crash came from her left, followed by an enraged roar.
Coco craned her head and peered through the smoke to see half a dozen Black Fang trying to subdue Nora, including the sinewy form of the snake Faunus. She struck one with her hammer, sending him flying into two more. She swung in a circle, forcing the rest to jump back. The snake Faunus drew in, arms raised to strike. Nora squared off against him and took a step forward. In that moment, his tail whipped behind her, curled around her rear ankle, and pulled, sending her sprawling on the ground.
Before she could stand, one silhouette darted in and snatched her hammer. Nora stood just in time for the rest of the group to rush her like a pack of wolves on a buffalo. There were several grunts of pain, all too male or low-pitched to be Nora, but they died out as more assailants piled in. The dogpile grew still, and all Coco could hear was angry labored breathing.
A pair of boots stopped in front of Coco. Someone grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her knees, her arms still restrained. The smoke had cleared enough to make out a lithe figure standing in front of her, wings unfurling from her back like a living cape.
"Desperate and stupid are bad looks on you, sweetheart," the bat Faunus said. "I'll admit that trick with the villagers was inspired, but did you really think that would fool us for long?"
She leaned closer, pulling Coco's head back by her scalp. "I'll give you one chance to talk this out like civil adults."
Coco glared at the woman and bared her neck to her. "Bite me."
The woman sighed. "How very original."
The last thing Coco remembered was the woman yanking her head towards the ground and an explosion of pain.
…
More Black Fang soldiers had waited outside, watching for anyone who managed to escape the sawmill, but through sheer luck Blake had lost them in the tall grass for a few moments. She lay prone near the building, listening to them move. They had fanned out, searching in every direction from where they saw her enter the grass, except back the way she came.
Her fingers dug furrows in the earth as she fought to keep from panicking. The sounds of conflict had died inside the building, and her own ruse wouldn't work much longer. Either one of them would figure out what she had done and double back towards the building, or the group inside would emerge and trap her between the main force and the sentries. Someone's Faunus enhanced senses would find her and that would be it. Between her lingering pain and fatigue from the past few days' injuries, and the distance to the safety of the woods, she'd be lucky to last more than a minute before they overwhelmed her.
The grass rustled in a gradual cadence; the sound of a hunter stalking prey. It grew louder as someone moved towards Blake. Thoughts of Ruby and Weiss, Sun, Yang, and her parents flashed through Blake's mind. Her eyes teared, and she had to suppress a sob.
Then she rubbed her eyes on her sleeve, set her jaw, and tightened her grip on her weapons. She rose from the grass and found herself facing the ram-horned girl from Crescent Hollow, about five yards away. They attacked at the same time, trading strikes. Blake managed to avoid any major blows, but she tired quickly, letting the girl drive her back towards the sawmill. As she neared the wall, Blake lunged forward, stabbing with her katana to prod the girl into a slash from her cleaver. The ram-horned girl turned away the stab with one hand mace, and ducked under the cleaver slash, head-butting Blake in the ribs. Blake reeled from the strike, gasping for air, as the girl leapt towards her and brought her maces down. Blake managed to block both maces with her blades, and they stood straining against each other, weapons locked together. From behind the girl, Blake saw figures approach from the grass and woods beyond.
"No rifle-toting hicks to save you now," The girl said.
Blake pressed against the girl's weapons harder, but she felt her boots begin to slide on the dirt. The girl gave a shove, and Blake stumbled back, fighting to stay upright. The girl crouched, preparing to lunge at Blake.
But before she could attack, the wall of the sawmill exploded and sent her sprawling, burying her under a pile of boards. Reese rushed through the hole in the wall, stopping only long enough to plug it with shots of ice dust from her guns. Then she whipped around and dove into the tall grass alongside Blake, running east.
"Where," Blake said between gasps, "Are Coco and Nora?"
"I couldn't find them in the smoke," Reese said. Her eyes were wide and her voice pitched an octave higher than normal. "What do we do?"
"There's too many of them, all we can do is run and hide." Blake looked to their sides, and behind them. She could see at least five Black Fang coming through the grass, with more pouring out of the sawmill. Her lungs burned and fresh cramps attacked her injured ribs. She slowed to a stop, hunching over and resting her hands on her knees.
"You go," she said. "I'll try to slow them down. If you can reach the other cache, maybe you can get enough supplies to reach another village to the northeast; tell people what happened here."
"Screw that!" Reese said. "I can't do this alone, and even if I could, I wouldn't leave you with those psychos."
"I'll only slow you down right now! There's no point in both of us getting caught."
Reese locked eyes with Blake, her face stubborn and frightened. She looked back to see their pursuers drawing closer, rippling the grass like sharks just beneath the water's surface. Reese reassembled her hoverboard from her pistols and tossed it down.
"How's your balance?" she asked.
"It's good," Blake said.
Reese stomped on the board and it expanded into its larger tow configuration.
"Have you ever longboarded?"
"No."
"Wrong answer," Reese said, guiding Blake onto the back of the enlarged hoverboard. "You love longboarding. Before you joined up with the White Fang, you used to ride down twisty mountain roads fast enough to get speeding tickets. Just hang on, and lean when I lean."
Reese leapt onto the front of the board and stomped a second switch. Reese's board had been nimble in its original form. In its larger configuration, without heavy sledges hitched to it, the board shot off like a jet, both huntresses screaming. The front end bucked, almost throwing both of them off, then settled back down as they flew across the clearing. They went off a raised mound of earth, launching across a narrow section of the river, then landed and rapidly approached the forest.
"LEAN RIGHT!" Reese shouted.
They leaned, Blake placing one hand on Reese's shoulder for guidance and balance, and the board began to turn in a wide arc that missed the trees by a few yards. Their turn was so wide that they ended up curving back the way they came.
"You missed the trail," Blake shouted. "Slow down before you get us killed!"
"Would you rather get caught and tortured by a bunch of terrorists?" Reese snapped. "I'm not slowing down!"
"We have to; the trails curve too much to ride this fast."
"Then we won't take one."
Reese twisted her body and the board skidded, throwing up dirt and sliding until it reached the riverbank, nose pointed downstream. They shot forward again, racing alongside the river as more Black Fang pursued them. Gunfire whizzed by Blake's ears. She turned back and fired a few pistol shots from Gambol Shroud with her free hand, but the shots did little to deter their pursuers.
"Heads up!" Reese shouted. Blake turned in time to duck under a low-hanging tree branch, the leaves brushing the back of her coat. Reese leaned with precise movements, weaving them through logs and exposed tree roots along the bank. Blake kept up with most of her motions, but after passing a particularly wide stump she leaned a bit too far, causing the board to fishtail, nearly throwing both of them off and slowing them for a few moments.
"This is stupid," Blake said. "Let's just take the river." She gripped Reese's shoulders with both hands.
"No! Don't—" Before Reese could finish, Blake leaned right, forcing Reese to lean with her to remain on the board, and they angled over the water. The moment they left the shore the board began to spin like a top with bottle rockets glued to it. They bounced across the water like a skipping stone, both huntresses screaming as they spun. Reese shut off the thrust and crouched, pulling Blake into a crouch alongside her. The spin came to a gradual stop in the middle of the river, forty feet of water on either side. They stood as they coasted along on the last of their momentum and the river's current, the sound of the water a firm whisper in the night. Reese rocked her hips until the board was pointed downstream again. She drew back her hood and stared down the river, running her hands through her hair in an anxious gesture.
"What just happened?" Blake asked, her ears pressed flat against her skull.
"You screwed us!" Reese said, turning back to Blake. "Hoverboards work great over solid surfaces because they have something simple to push against, but water shifts too much to allow stable movement. We can float with the current, but if we add any propulsion we'll slide like a car driving at full speed over ice, so now we're stuck drifting out here until they catch up to us."
Blake threw up her hands in frustration. "I'm sorry I don't have extensive knowledge of all your science projects, but riding along the shore was a crash waiting to happen!"
"I didn't hear you come up with anything better."
A sound like fireworks crossed with jumping fish came from a spot just ahead of the board as a shot missed them and ricocheted off the water. Blake turned and fired at the gunman, but he ducked behind a tree before she could hit him. As she loaded a new magazine she saw the rest of the Black Fang farther down the bank, closing fast.
"Alright," Blake said. "They'll catch up to us by the time we swim to shore. If we stay on the river they'll pick us off from the riverbank or swim out to get us. Do you have anything that can give us some breathing room?"
Reese started rummaging through her pack. "I may have one last Gadget Ex Machina left." She drew out a few of Nora's grenades and a roll of tape. She bundled the grenades together with the tape, then produced an assortment of dust crystals and wrapped them into the bundle. She tore off the end of the tape with her teeth, pressed it into place, and handed Blake the bundle.
"How's your throwing arm?" she asked.
"Which bank of the river do you want me to hit?" Blake said.
"Neither, it's going upstream; the farther the better."
Blake raised an eyebrow, but took the bundle. She took a section of Gambol Shroud's ribbon the length of her arm span, folded it in half, and placed Reese's bundle in the fold. Reese gave the makeshift sling an approving nod and struck something on the bundle with her screwdriver.
"Now!"
Blake swung the sling in a circle over her head, once, twice, three times. On the fourth revolution, she released one end of the ribbon and sent the makeshift bomb flying upstream. Their assembled pursuers watched it arc through the air and stepped back, wary. It landed with a splash, but nothing happened. Blake turned to see Reese crouched, looking over her shoulder at where the bomb had landed. She gave Reese an anxious look.
"What now?" Blake asked.
"About that," Reese said. "Not to cleave to stereotypes, but surfing's popular in Menagerie, right?"
Blake's eyebrows shot up, and she matched Reese's posture just in time for the river behind them to erupt in a geyser of water. The river surged up onto the bank, knocking over those who stood on the shore. A large wave rose up behind them and rushed forward along the river. It rose high enough to wet the branches hanging over the bank, and in the relatively narrow section of the river, it moved like a speeding freight train.
"Hold on to your butt!" Reese shouted.
The wave picked them up and shot them down the river, only just slower than the board's own propulsion. Blake and Reese slowly rose, standing with their knees slightly bent. The water rumbled around them, and a light spray preceding the wave misted their backs. The rushing wind blew back their hair, glistening in the spray as it trailed behind them. Reese whooped, turned to face upstream, and raised her arms to give the Black Fang a pair of rude hand gestures.
"This rocks!" Reese said, facing forward again. "It's like surfing a tidal bore, but better."
She leaned to one side, skimming around a log floating in the water with casual precision. Blake mirrored her movements, occasionally glancing over her shoulder.
"How long do you think we can keep this up?" She asked. "We're losing them for now, but they'll catch up sooner or later."
"Honestly?" Reese said, "I don't know. But we haven't lost much momentum, so I'd say we have enough time to lose them, head to shore, and double back to find the others."
Reese weaved the board around a sandbar and a few rocks that rose from the water. Blake looked back again and saw that they'd lost their pursuers. She started to turn forward, then paused, looking at the riverbank. The trees seemed to be passing by quicker, and they were gradually thinning along both sides of the river. She turned to Reese.
"Are we moving faster?" she asked.
Reese blinked, surprised. "We are. The current's picking up. We must be headed back down into the valley for it to—WHOA!"
Reese and Blake juked the board, zig-zagging through a cluster of exposed rocks as they went around a bend in the river. After they had navigated the obstacles Blake began to say something, then stopped. Her ears twitched and her face grew pale.
"Do you hear that?" she asked in small voice.
Reese listened, only half-focusing as she guided them around another curve in the river and away from a growing number of rocks. Then she heard it: A constant low roar somewhere in the distance, slowly growing louder. Reese's stomach dropped.
"Hey Blake?"
"Yes?"
"They tossed you guys off a cliff in your initiation at Beacon, right?"
Sweat began to bead on Blake's brow despite the cool night air. "That's right."
Reese gave Blake a nervous laugh. "You have any pointers for sticking the landing?"
The current took them around another bend. The river widened a bit and more rocks appeared, more numerous than before. Ahead of them lay a scenic view of the forests, hills, and valleys of the region…beneath which lay a line of white frothy foam where the river flowed over a roaring waterfall. Both huntresses froze for a moment, then Blake shook Reese's shoulders.
"Left, left, LEFT!"
Reese shook her head and cut the board hard to the left, travelling at an angle to the artificial wave. They made it halfway to shore, when a thick cluster of rocks rose from the water. She snaked in and around the rocks, but they grew too dense for the larger board to navigate. She clipped one, and the board pitched, tossing Blake into the river with a yelp and a splash. Reese lurched back and forth, arms windmilling, as she tried to correct the board. She managed to get it mostly steady, only for her to ride nose-first into a rock.
Reese sailed over the rock and plunged into the water. She fought to keep from gasping in shock at the sudden piercing cold, and the painful burn of water travelling up her nose. She tucked into a ball as she went under, covering her head and neck with her arms. The current swept her along, battering her shoulders, back, legs, and knuckles as she struck the riverbed and more rocks. She felt the soles of her boots touch the riverbed and kicked, shooting up to break the surface. She gasped for air, trying to fight the current. A few feet away, her hoverboard floated by. She swam to it and seized it in a death grip, fumbling with it in a panicked attempt to get away from the edge of the falls. The roar of the waterfall grew louder as the white lip of the falls drew closer.
Then it faded to almost nothing as she went out into thin air.