The house smelled of death - not the good, metallic smell of blood, or the meaty, steamy smell of guts bared to the morning air, but the stale, sick smell of swamp fever. Urko fought to keep his face neutral. What a pitiful way to go for an officer of his force. True, he hadn't known the man personally, but as Chief General, everyone wearing the uniform was his. And he'd wish a warrior's death for each and everyone of them.
Of course, that meant they'd need a war. And since ape wasn't allowed to kill ape - at least not without declaring them to be 'not an ape' first, which was something that took time, and court sessions - they were confined to stomp out the human pests, which didn't truly count as warfare; it was more like culling herds, or weeding crops. Unsatisfying, but what could you do?
At least Tilan had given him free reins with these humans now. Good man.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Inta," he growled. The Chimp was huddled in her chair, looking miserable and disheveled. If he ever fell in battle, Elta would stay dignified. He was pretty sure that she'd take care to make herself presentable before she received any visitors, but he'd instruct her about that when he returned, just in case.
"It's unfortunate that your prefect chose to cuddle the humans instead of clubbing them, as I suggested," he continued, and laid a hand on the Chimp's hunched shoulder. "I'll make sure to clean out that nest of filth now. Even if it's too late for your poor husband, at least you and your children will be safe." He looked up and smiled at the little girl peeking around the doorpost.
"Don't you worry, little one, me and my men will go now and make sure the humans can't harm you and your brother anymore."
The child scowled fiercely at him, but didn't say a word. Behind him, the Chimp sniffed, an ugly, wet sound, and straightened. "Forla! Be polite, and greet the general!"
"No!" The girl stuck out her tongue to him and vanished. Her naked feet pattered down the corridor.
Urko chuckled. He hadn't been keen on playing nice with that family any longer, anyway. He had seen the dead officer with his own eyes, had his widow confirm that the man had, in fact, died of the human fever, and that was that. He turned to his lieutenant. "You got everything? Let's go then."
"Will you inform the prefect?" Nelva wanted to know as they mounted their horses.
"No. She'll learn of that officer's death as soon as that woman gets her wits together. I know," he smiled at his second-in-command. "That could take a while. Not my problem. I told her what I'll do if the plague jumps to apes, and I brought you as witness. The High Council will back my decision, there's nothing old Kanla can do about that." He took up the reins. "Let's spill some blood, old friend."
Nelva just shook his head, but spurred on his horse into a quick trot behind him. He left Urko shortly afterwards to alert the rest of their platoon, while Urko let his horse fall into a canter as soon as he was outside the gate. He had already positioned his people around the human den, so that none of them could scurry away; he had known that the opportunity would come to cleanse this place with fire.
Urko's smile widened; he gave his horse the reins, and the stallion fell into a swift gallop. Urko's heart began to sing, relishing the speed, the wind in his face, and the anticipation of the terror he was about to strike into the hearts of the humans.
Terror and blood. So much blood. He could almost taste it. He would taste it; it was his little ritual after each mission, his own little sacrifice to the Mothers. Nobody knew it but him, but the Mothers loved the taste of blood.
They told him so every time.
He didn't bother to stop when he reached the cordon, just yelled the order to open the village gate, and to fire at will. His men charged, impatient to get into the action themselves, and the gate sprang open to their battering ram like the eager thighs of a Chimp hussy.
The men swarmed through the gate and into the village square, firing at the humans who had for some reason assembled outside. The crowd broke apart at once, humans racing blindly in all directions, with the apes in hot pursuit. Shots cracked, and the first humans fell into the mud. The huts were ablaze from the burning torches his men had catapulted over the stockade, and the smoke of wet reeds was hanging between their walls like billowing blankets, providing the vermin with temporary cover.
Didn't matter - the stockade was enclosing them from all sides, and in the unlikely event that some of them managed to burrow through, there were more of his men waiting outside, their rifles ready. And he was guarding the only exit in that stockade. Urko reined in his mount, took aim, and fired at a slowly moving couple. One of them fell down like a heap of old clothes. Their companion didn't run, as Urko had expected. They just stood there as if frozen to the spot, head turning towards him like vigilant deer.
"It's no fun if you make it that easy, frog," Urko murmured, and reloaded.
Then the breeze lifted the smoke for a moment, and he froze.
For a moment, the smoke lifted, and Burke could see him. The dark face, high helmet, eyes gleaming with bloodlust and recognition. And for a moment, the only thought that stood out in his mind was that his own face was burned into Urko's memory as clearly as the gorilla's visage was burned into his. All humans might look alike to the general, but not him. Nor Al. They were persons now, with names, and a very personal story attached to them.
Then Urko jerked the lever back and lifted the carbine to his shoulder, and Burke turned and sprinted behind the wagon. A shot cracked and the bullet buried itself into the wood of the barn wall where his head had been a moment before.
Burke raced along the length of the cart towards the front bench, thumping his fist against the wooden planks of the frame. "Go, go, go! Urko's here!" He swung himself up on the seat and shoved Virdon's shoulder, hard. "You hear me? He's here!"
Virdon was fighting to keep the horses from bolting; they were dancing and jerking their heads up, nervous from the smoke and the chaos around them. Virdon swore softly under his breath and pulled at the lines. "The patients..."
"Forget about them," Burke shouted. Another shot cracked, and one of their horses whinnied, a shockingly loud yell. "He fired at me, he knows we're here, an' if he shoots our horses, we're done for!" He jumped into the wagon and fell on his knees when the cart shot forward with a jerk. Another shot, and the bullet ripped through the cover of their wagon. To his right, Zana dove down into the footwell, burying little Arin under her to protect her from ricochets.
If the damn monkeys continued to empty their magazines at that speed, they'd have run out of ammo by the time he'd get to his gun. Burke began to crawl to his bedroll, trying to duck out of the way of falling bottles, drawers, and Galen's heavy brass mortar. Behind him, Al was shouting, either trying to urge on the horses, or to calm them, Burke couldn't say. The cart was skidding into a hard turn, pressing all of them against the side of the wagon. Something crashed and splintered on the floor behind him, and Zana cried out. "The leeches!"
Too bad for the little buggers. Burke couldn't say he felt especially sorry for them.
He finally reached his bedroll, where he had stashed away Lucy, or Betsy, he still hadn't decided on a name. He had prepared, just as he had told Al - she was fully loaded, ready to split some ape skulls. He crept on towards the tail end of the cart, where Galen was lying, keeping his head safely below the plank. The ape turned his head to him and froze, eyes widening at the sight of the weapon in his hand.
For a moment, Burke froze, too, as they locked eyes, half expecting Galen to wrest it from him.
"How many rounds do you have?" Galen finally said.
Burke inhaled. "Six bullets fit into the magazine." It was inside the stock, a curious construction. "I got five rounds, including the one I already loaded." He shrugged. "Guess the former owner didn't expect to fight a war." He moved the lever to load the first bullet. The gun made a ratcheting sound. This was like driving stick shift - totally different feeling.
So much more satisfying than automatic.
The wagon made another hard turn, and now they were racing back towards the gate, the only way out for their cart. Burke dropped his original plan, struggled to his feet and stumbled back to Virdon, who was now definitely urging on their horses into a full gallop. Unfortunately, both the weight of their wagon, and the deep mud of the village square, were slowing them down. Firing on them was like firing on a slow sailing barn door. Burke threw a quick glance at Virdon's face, pale and tense. Time to make target practice a little more hazardous for the damn monkeys.
He steadied himself against one of the wooden bows that held up the cover, and swung his legs out on the passenger seat. "Mind if I'm riding shotgun?" he yelled at Virdon, who didn't acknowledge him. Burke grinned and yanked the gun to his shoulder. He fired at a rider coming towards them, and though he missed, the ape reacted immediately, tearing hard at the reins of his horse and veering off between the huts.
Burke pushed the lever forward, and the shell jumped out; back again, and they were ready for the next shot.
The gate came into view, and in the middle of the gate, Urko's white horse, weaving between the posts, barring the way. Virdon smacked the lines on the horses' backs, yelling at them to run, run, and Urko stared at Burke over the barrel of his gun, taking aim.
For a moment, Burke could see his face clearly, as if the gorilla was only an arm's length away.
Then Urko fired, and the bullet tore through the canvas of the wagon, missing Burke's head so narrowly that he could feel its heat grazing his temple. At that distance, aiming at a moving target, fired from a prancing horse, it was a frighteningly good shot.
Urko reloaded.
Burke fired at his horse.
The animal broke down like a felled tree, legs folding all at once. Urko threw his arms up to keep balance, but was buried under its torso; probably hadn't been quick enough to get his feet out of the stirrups. Their wagon thundered past him, jumping when the wheels rolled over the dead horse's legs. Something heavy crashed to the floor behind Burke, but he hadn't time to turn his head and look. He reloaded and fired at the nearest horse, and the animal reared and threw off his rider.
"You okay back there?" Virdon shouted. He was still urging on the horses, who had now found firmer ground under their hooves, and were struggling to gain speed, their heads weaving up and down like pistons.
Riders were now converging on them from both sides, firing at them all at once, and whatever Zana or Galen were answering was drowned out by the staccato of gunfire. The cover of their wagon shuddered under the assault. One of their horses shrieked, Tala, a long red streak appearing on her croup. "For the love of God, keep your heads down," Virdon yelled. He smacked the lines on the horses' backs once more. The wagon stumbled on, wheels crunching and jumping over the stones buried in the road.
They were drawing the apes' attention and firepower to themselves, Burke thought, as he fired another shot and saw a horse break down, taking its rider with it. Good for Omi and his folks, but hell, the apes only needed to get lucky once, shoot one of their horses...
He reloaded. Three more shots before he had to refill the gun's magazine. A second gun would've come in handy, one of the apes reloading it while he continued to take out the guards' horses...
The ape who was barring the road ahead of them jerked his horse around and galloped off into the marches. Burke fired at his comrade who was catching up with them, racing parallel to the cart, and the ape fell off the horse, that now veered off into the marches, away from them.
Two more shots. Burke climbed over the backrest into the wagon and stumbled towards the tail end. Another bullet whipped past him, tearing a hole into the wagon's cover, and he fell to his knees and crawled the rest of the way.
"There are at least two dozen riders," Galen yelped, when Burke reached him. "You'd need to hit every single horse, if we want to have a chance of shaking them off!"
Two bullets in the gun, twenty-four in his pockets. It could work out.
He just couldn't miss even once.
Just don't think about it. It's like doing a tailslide...
He pressed the stock to his shoulder and stopped thinking.
Blood was running down Tala's flank, but the horse wasn't lame, as far as Virdon could see from the driver's seat. It was just a graze, he tried to reassure himself, nothing to slow them down. Adrenaline was a great pain killer.
They were racing down the cart track that had brought them to the village, back towards Trion. It was the wrong direction, leading them directly to the rest of Urko's troupe, and maybe even Kanla's, but there was no chance to turn the wagon around, no smaller paths branching off, and Virdon felt his despair burn brighter in his chest with every passing field. The horses wouldn't be able to keep up this speed for much longer, not with the weight of the wagon behind them, not on this muddy cart track...
"There's a path crossing our track ahead of us!"
Virdon flinched and threw a quick glance over his shoulder. Zana had crawled up to him and was now peering over the backrest.
"There!" Zana pointed, and Virdon reined in the horses, slowed them to a trot so they wouldn't miss the intersection. It wouldn't help them to shake off their pursuers; only Pete's gun could do that. Not that Virdon wasn't grateful that he had it, but how in the world had he got it? And when?
Virdon eased the horses into the crossing; the shots behind him came more rapidly, Pete trying to keep the apes off their backs to compensate for their slowness, and Virdon smacked the lines on the horses' backs again, wishing for a whip for once. "Go, go!" The horses jerked their heads and fell into a slow trot.
They wouldn't get away. Virdon felt his throat constrict with despair and helpless rage. To end like this...
"Al, get the damn horses moving, I need to fill that magazin again!"
"I'm doing my best," Virdon bellowed, "they're too tired, the wagon is too heavy..."
"Then we gotta jump! I'm not gonna get caught 'cause I didn't leave the car in time!" Virdon heard Burke quickly pump the lever; a shot cracked, then another. A horse yelled in the distance, a sound that made Virdon's heart ache.
"Right now, we're still faster with the cart than on foot," Galen pointed out from somewhere in the footwell. Virdon couldn't blame him for wanting to stay there. Another quick glance showed him that the ape was collecting the escaped leeches into his mortar.
"How many left?" he yelled back.
"More than I have bullets," came Burke's answer.
They couldn't shake them off, they couldn't kill them all. There had to be another way out of this... Virdon tried to focus on the way ahead, tried to leave security to Burke and his gun, tried to think, think of a strategy, a solution...
"Zana," he shouted without turning his head. "We need to lose this cart sooner or later. Start getting everything we can possibly take with us into our backpacks."
"What about the little girl?" Zana's hands were still gripping the backrest; from the corner of his eyes, Virdon saw that her knuckles were white. A bullet hit the side of the wagon and ricocheted off with a howl, and she gripped the board so hard that Virdon could've sworn her fingertips were digging into the wood now.
"We'll take her with us, drop her off in one of the villages," he said quickly. "Now hurry, I don't know how long the horses can keep this up!" The hands vanished from the edge of his vision, and he focused on the horses again. Tala was beginning to stumble, not much, but that could change quickly.
Another path branched off to their right, just wide enough for one cart, and Virdon steered the horses on it, hoping to force the apes to stay on that track instead of trying to overtake them.
They had left the cultivated patch of land and were racing into the marches. To both sides of the path, the morning sun gleamed on puddles of water. If the apes knew what was good for them, they'd try to stay on the path as much as possible. The ground was treacherous; sometimes, those puddles were deeper than a horse's height.
Splintering wood and water splashing told him that not everyone was aware of those dangers. Burke was still shooting, keeping their pursuers at a distance, but they were still at their tail.
"Do you have everything, Zana?"
"I have... our bedrolls, clothes, food, Galen has his book..." Ah yes, the mysterious book. Virdon shook his head. "... kettle, flint and steel, water bottles..." Zana counted off, probably more for her own sake than his.
"I'm taking my doctor's bag, the seal and the scrolls," Galen huffed. Paper was rustling as he began to stuff them into another bag. "And the surgical instruments, too."
"We don't need that stuff anymore, and it'll just weigh us down," Virdon argued, keeping his eye on the path.
"I am optimistic that we'll be able to get out of this alive." Galen was stumbling around in the wagon, opening and closing the drawers of their medicine cabinets. Virdon empathized with him - the wagon had become a home for all of them, and its acquisition had cost almost all of Galen's money. "I intend to take up a veterinary practice as Dr. Kova again, once we're north of the mountains," Galen continued, "and I don't know if they even sell these things there. Most students buy their equipment in the City and take it home with them."
The shots had died down. Virdon dared to turn around in his seat to see what was happening behind him. Galen and Zana were both packing as much of the wagon's interior as possible into bags, while Burke was kneeling at the back of the cart, gun still at his shoulder. The path behind them was empty, as far as he was able to see from his position. "Pete, where are those apes?" Virdon didn't believe for a second that they had shaken them off.
"Staying out of range," Burke answered without turning his head. "Fucking monkeys realized they just need to keep track of us until the horses break down."
"We'll take the horses, too," Galen said in a voice that brooked no argument. "They can carry a lot of this equipment."
"Then where's the advantage?" Burke growled. "The weight will slow us down, no matter if they have to pull or carry it."
"It will still be a lot less without the weight of the wagon itself, and us," Galen argued, and Burke just huffed, but didn't say anything anymore.
Puddles of water were now appearing on the path itself, too. "We'll get off here," Virdon decided. It wouldn't be too long before they were stuck in the mud, anyway. He urged the horses on for another few yards, between a thicket of willows to both sides of the track. "Galen, your knife."
He cut the horses' harnesses, while the apes hauled their bags out of the front of the wagon; Zana handed the little girl to Galen and strapped on her backpack; Burke was still keeping position at the back of the cart. He fired another shot at the first ape rounding the bend, and the officer was ripped off his horse, head jerked back by the force of the bullet whipping through his skull.
Burke worked the lever once more. "Are you done up there already? I'm running out of ammo!"
Virdon hastily secured the bags on the horses' backs with the leather strips from the harness. "We're done. Let's go!"
The wagon blocking the path - and Burke's last shot - would give them a headstart of maybe a minute or so; they had to leave the path as soon as possible, and try to cover their horses' tracks by wading through the mosquito-infested puddles. Virdon hoped that Galen had packed their wormwood tincture, too.
They jogged through the willow thicket, the horses snorting and panting. Virdon threw a last glance back at their abandoned wagon, its cover a brilliant white in the morning sun. It was ripped and torn, destroyed by the apes' bullets.
He sighed and tugged at Tala's reins.
They were making too much noise, Zana thought, splashing and crashing through the thickets, but the path had vanished in mere moments, and the willows and poplars and the undergrowth between them at least shielded them from prying eyes. Alan was leading them onward as if he knew where he wanted to go, but his crutch was no help in the soft and treacherous underground, and after a short while, he stopped, and waved for Galen to take the lead. His face was red from the heat, and maybe from pain, as he handed Galen the reins of their wounded horse.
"Do you want to ride?" Galen asked.
Alan shook his head. "I'd just be more visible, and betray our position. And poor Tala is injured, I'll... I'll just grab Apache's mane and use him as a crutch." He hobbled back to Zana, who was holding the reins of their second horse. Peet was still behind them, watching and listening for their pursuers, his weapon ready. He looked disturbingly in his element.
"How are you holding up?" Alan asked in a low voice as he passed her.
"I'm fine, Alan, don't worry." During their journey from the City to Trion, Zana had often walked ahead or behind the wagon, to make sure she stayed fit. After she had acquired blisters on her city feet when they had fled for the first time, she had vowed to stay in shape for the rest of their journey.
Alan just nodded and raised his arm to grab the gelding's withers. Then he froze, his eyes fixed on a point behind her.
Urko! But how had Peet not noticed...
"I'm glad you made it out alive," Alan said, visibly relieved, and Zana told her thundering heart to stop being so stupid, and turned around.
A small group of humans had emerged from the undergrowth, and from Alan's reaction, they were from the village they had tried to help against the fever. They were led by a young female with dark hair and eyes, and a stern expression.
Alan dropped his hand, and made a stumbling step towards the group. "Ehme."
The woman's frown deepened. Then she quickly crossed the clearing and hugged him tightly, and didn't let go for long moments. Alan hugged her back just as enthusiastically, and Zana wondered what she had missed.
Finally, it was Alan who broke the embrace. "We must go, Ehme," he said hoarsely. "The apes are hot on our tail, and they want to kill us."
The woman shook her head in confusion. "But you only tried to help us. Why would they want to kill you?"
"It's... it's a long story." Alan quickly turned away and took the little girl from Galen's arms. "We could save her from the hospital. I don't know what became of the others..." Ehme took the girl, and Alan stroked the child's hair; he looked sad, and Zana wondered if he was thinking of his own daughter, the child he had never seen.
"So you're a wanted man," Ehme said, still looking at him.
Alan smiled wryly and ducked his head. "We all are. But we did nothing wrong, you have to believe me."
Ehme sighed, and smiled. "Of course I believe you, Tamas. You're a good man. A very stupid man, but a good man. You need to lose these hunters, quickly." She turned and beckoned one of the villagers to come to her side. "Omi will show you a way through the swamp that the apes can't go - not without a guide, anyway. You'll come out in the cursed zone, though..."
"That's not a problem," Alan assured her quickly. "Everything is better than falling into the hands of those apes."
The woman laid her hand on his cheek. "I'll think often of you, Tamas. I'll pray to the Mothers that they'll keep you safe... you and your friends."
Alan made a move as if to put his hand on hers, but she turned away quickly, and vanished into the thicket, taking the rest of the humans with her. A few shivering branches were the only indicators that the villagers had been there a moment ago; they moved as silently as deer.
For a moment, everyone just stood there, frozen by the unforeseen encounter; then Alan straightened and gestured for the boy to lead the way. Galen followed him with the mare; then it was Zana's turn, and she tugged at the rope of the other horse, the one that Peet had named A-pah-chee... just to see her struggle with the name, she was sure... and Alan held on to the animal's mane and limped along. Peet came last, and she couldn't see him, which worried her more than it should have.
Alan was right behind her, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell his sweat, and hear his laboured breaths. He was still not really healed, Zana realized; and now they didn't have the wagon anymore. They were plodding through a swamp, and if they made it out of it alive, they'd end up in the deserted wasteland of a Forbidden Zone.
Will this ever end?
More importantly, would it ever end well for them?
Zana kept her gaze on the swishing tail of the mare in front of her, trying to shut out the high whirring of the mosquitos all around them, trying to ignore the sun's fire burning on her head and shoulders, trying to shut out all thoughts of tomorrow, or even the next moment.
She only had the next step in front of her. And the next. And the next.
If I only have moments to live, shouldn't I enjoy the one that I have right now?
She looked up. The sky was a brilliant azure, the backlit leaves glowing as if illuminated from within. The puddles of water around them were reflecting the sky as if pieces of it had broken out and fallen to the ground.
Zana inhaled deeply. It was a beautiful day. She was here with her friends, and her beloved. This was hers, all of it, even that scrawny human boy was hers, in this moment. Something broke and melted inside her, and she loved them all with a fierceness that equaled the brilliance of the sun. They were creatures of the marches now, small and silent, slipping away on secret paths that no guard would ever find.
And Zana knew that this time, all would end well.