The other leopards roared in anger and threw themselves towards where the sneak attack had come from. When they plowed through the jungle, they were met with an enormous melon-shaped hammer which smashed one of them into pulp. The creatures realized their foe was too dangerous to bother with and bounded off into the distance.
The last four people he’d ever expected to see appeared before him.
Cloudhawk had fallen unconscious and was slung over Mantis’s back. He had several obvious wounds on him that had already been sutured closed. Artemis staggered on a wounded left leg and carried her hammer in her left hand to favor an injured right shoulder. Both had only been bandaged. As for the Queen, she had broken one of her arms and several ribs. Although she could walk, she was completely spent.
Mantis was in the best condition. However, towards the end, he had to face over a dozen sweepers in close combat, which wasn’t his forte; in fact, he wasn’t even as capable as Leonine in this regard. Four or five patches on his body were clearly covered in blood.
They actually survived? This had to mean they’d beaten the sweepers!
Leonine couldn’t understand how the mutants could have lost. Their appearance drained the last little bit of hope out of him. It meant they hadn’t taken the outpost and Hydra could return to his territory safely as the one true ruler.
“What are you doing here?” Artemis gave him a queer look. “Where’s Hydra!?”
Leonine hurriedly cried out, “Take me back to the outpost. Bring me back there!”
The outpost’s forces had suffered a huge blow by this power struggle. Most of their best men and elite troops were dead.
When its leader returned, his first order of business was not to see to his wounds. Instead, he grabbed three people and tortured them with every method he knew. In the end, one large and two small, savagely brutalized corpses were nailed to the outer wall, flaunting his handy work.
When they got back to the outpost and Leonine saw this scene, he let loose an inhuman wail. The slaver shoved off Artemis and flung himself to the base of the walls, holding out his ten mutilated fingers pleadingly like a beaten vagrant. He threw his head against the ground again and again until blood flowed freely.
This stoic, powerful man completely lost his mind. Everything important to him, all of his hopes, his reasons for living – they were pinned to that wall.
Artemis shook her head when she understood what had happened. “Poor bastard.”
Suddenly, a group of soldiers rushed out from the outpost and tried to drag him inside. He fought them off with the last of his strength and staggered back towards the others like a man grasping at his final straw.
“Help me kill him. Help me kill Hydra! HELP ME KILL THAT BASTARD!”
Half a dozen soldiers pulled him away. He flailed against them and his mangled fingers clawed trenches in the ground. He clawed until there was little more than bone, screaming for help as they disappeared from sight. His voice rang through the air, insane and savage. “Help me kill Hydra!”
Mantis watched all this happen with his customarily impassive face. Artemis, however, had a mocking smile on her face. “He really is an absolute dumb fuck.”
The Queen was most conflicted. She raised her head and looked at the grizzly result of Hydra’s anger. Her eyes watered as she looked at these bodies, tortured so badly that they didn’t even look human. “Gods,” she whispered to herself. “Please forgive me!”
Hydra had injected himself with a syringe of panacea. His wounds were slowly healing. The outpost leader had been preparing to fight those sweeper bastards to the death so when the four people appeared before his eyes, he could hardly believe it.
“Ah-hahaha!” He bounded over to them grinning broadly. “Never woulda thought. I never woulda thought you’d make it when it all went tits up. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to know you killed those three assholes. Without them, the demon’s power throughout the wastelands takes a big hit. We’re gonna kill that bastard!”
Hydra felt like he was walking with the blessings of the gods themselves.
He survived betrayal from the one person he trusted most and then took care of the slaver that tried to hunt him down. Then in this precarious moment, he finds that the demon hunter – a gift from the Elysian lands – had dealt with the sweepers. Indeed, the outpost had suffered for it, but any cost was worth killing those three lapdogs.
“I imagine the bastard will hear the news soon. He’ll definitely show up now. He has to. We’ve gotta prepare.” Hydra clapped his hands and a group of handmaidens gingerly scampered in. “Look after your wounds. Feel free to take whatever you need. Starting now, we have to be battle ready.”
This demon hunter was something else! With her by his side, he couldn’t lose!
Her cold voice rasped through the air. “I need two syringes of panacea.”
He winced slightly when he heard her. “Why two?”
Her eyes moved to Cloudhawk who was still unconscious. Hydra knew what she meant, but the kid was hardly worth his salt. Even if he survived, he wasn’t going to be any use in the final fight.
So his voice turned distant as he answered, “He’s too badly hurt. He’s lost so much blood, even panacea won’t save him. We’ve only got two syringes of the precious stuff left and it’d be better to save ‘em for when they’re needed most, right?”
The Bloodsoaked Queen tepidly responded, “Fine. Then I want something else from you.”
Hydra had expected a little push back, but when he saw her abandon the request, he relaxed. It looked like this kid wasn’t all that important to her after all. “Anything for the mighty demon slayer! Say the word.”
Her hoarse and sinister voice crackled from the mask: “I want your life.”
Before he could react, she was in front of him with her hand on his chest. Frightened, he tried to shove her away but it was too late. He was filled with a wave of heat that swept through every inch of him like a burning train car of coal.
“Aaaahhhh!”
Hydra was turned into a statue of solid black carbon. The last thought running through his mind before it all burned away was why she’d wanted to kill him.
78 Another Endowment
The maids screamed and scattered in all directions.
Artemis stared dumbly at the blackened remains of what had been Hydra, whose limbs were frozen in a defensive posture. Tendrils of white smoke slithered from his wide open eye sockets and distended mouth. She couldn’t believe this was the way the tyrant of the outpost was fated to die.
Mantis frowned at the Queen. “Why?”
Her breathing was slightly rapid as she responded. “You don’t understand what it feels like to lose someone close. What he did disgusted me.”
“So you killed him for that?” Artemis wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. Outside, she’d mocked the slaver and moments later, she watched the Queen burn Hydra to a crisp. The contrast was a slap to the face. “Do you have any idea how important he was? Now that he’s dead, there’ll be anarchy in the outpost. Who’s going to organize the forces when the enemy comes?”
The Bloodsoaked Queen didn’t think too deeply on it. Hydra had some skill, but one more or less of him wasn’t going to make any sort of difference. He’d lost his worth when she saw his hateful acts. So she killed him.
“The outpost has a new leader.”
“A new leader? The only people with the prestige and abilities to lead were Hydra and Snaketooth, and both of them are dead. Who the hell will lead?”
“You.”
In one sentence, the Queen shut Artemis up. She gaped at the demon hunter in disbelief. Artemis was probably one of the three strongest in the outpost, but being a woman put her at a disadvantage. Only a woman with the overwhelming power of someone like the Queen would be able to overawe and tame a group of unruly wastelanders.
However, the situation right now was rather special. Hydra was dead, as was his brother and most of their best fighters. The ones
who remained hadn’t been trusted by the brothers or were too weak. It seemed like maybe there really was a possibility for Artemis to assume leadership.
Artemis was at a loss. Everything was so sudden.
She voiced her doubts. “Won’t there be a problem if a woman leads? I’m not sure of my chances. Let’s forget about it!”
The Queen didn’t bother arguing with her. Artemis didn’t seem to quite realize the reality of the situation – she was going to do it, whether because she wanted to or because she had to. Artemis had quite the reputation here, and with the demon hunter’s backing, anyone who challenged her would die. Why was she hesitating?
It was decided – no more discussion was needed. The Queen required the power of the outpost to help her against the demon. He surely would come, but she didn’t know when. For now, they had to get everything ready.
Mantis found three more panacea syringes in what used to be Hydra’s living quarters and gave one each to the Queen and Cloudhawk. Her wounds weren’t too serious and would be gone in a matter of days. For the boy, it was up to luck. Both his injuries were life threatening and in fact, he was only still alive because of his recovery abilities.
Panacea was a powerful regenerative agent and Cloudhawk’s own capabilities were decent. The two effects combined had much higher efficacy and would give him the best shot of making it, so maybe there was hope. Whether or not he made it would be decided by fate.
Cloudhawk felt like he was falling through a dark abyss. He tumbled for what felt like an eternity, never reaching the bottom. Was this what death felt like? He felt his mind grow hazy, becoming more muddled by the second. He knew that when he lost consciousness, he would never wake up again.
I can’t die! Not here, not now! There’s still so much I want to do!
He hadn’t taken revenge on the one who ordered his friends’ deaths. Mad Dog and Slyfox’s killer still roamed free. He hadn’t achieved his dream of leaving the wastelands either. How could he die now? He was filled with defiance, an anger that burned away the confusion threatening to consume his mind.
When his eyes shot open, Cloudhawk found himself lying in pitch darkness. Eventually, the haze cleared from his eyes and he looked out over a vast dark sea.
Splash!
He tumbled into the water. Suddenly, an endless pressure closed in on him from all sides. It was so intense that he was afraid he’d be crushed into pulp. The pressure was both suffocating and excruciatingly painful.
Cloudhawk struggled, trying not to drown.
Suddenly, a powerful consciousness appeared from within the recesses of his mind. “Please focus your will!”
Cloudhawk felt like something wasn’t right. For some reason, this place seemed familiar, like he’d been here before in a dream. He recalled meeting someone here, a mysterious stranger who claimed to be the previous owner of the stone Cloudhawk wore around his neck.
Of course he wouldn’t forget it. Ever since then, he’d been able to recognize and call on the resonance of relics. He’d been a typical scavenger who somehow was able to survive until now because of this power. Without that strange experience, he’d have been ignored by the Queen and likely be dead.
The profound and mysterious consciousness continued to speak through his mind. “Please focus your will!”
He didn’t understand what the voice was trying to say. All he could focus on was the intense pain, both from the crushing water and the suffocating pressure. Together, they threatened to shatter his psyche.
“Please focus your will!”
For the third time the voice pleaded with him. He couldn’t grasp what it meant in the context of his current situation, so he did the only thing he could. He relaxed his whole body and calmed his mind.
A sense of ease came over him. The pressure and sensation of drowning melted away.
Cloudhawk then felt the waters infiltrating his body, through his eye sockets, his ears, and every pore in his body. Things began to change. The sensation running through his body was familiar, just like last time.
But there was something different. Before, the mysterious figure had injected him with the power directly, while this time Cloudhawk’s body drank it in of its own accord. Judging by the scale of his absorption, it was a far greater volume now.
This process was some kind of power transfer! Cloudhawk could feel it empowering his psychic energy, making it surge!
The mysterious stranger had locked his consciousness in the stone and Cloudhawk was able to resonate with it. Because of this, he was able to inherit the stranger’s power – only, there was far too much of it. It felt as vast as an ocean, endlessly stretching in every direction. It showed that when this stranger was alive, he had to have been even stronger than the Bloodsoaked Queen!
Someone this strong had to have been a famous figure. What was his background?
Cloudhawk could sense that whoever he was, he considered himself a failure and wanted Cloudhawk to finish what he started. But Cloudhawk found the thought curious. If someone as powerful as this mysterious man had failed, what made him think a kid like Cloudhawk could succeed?
It was all too convoluted, too strange, too mysterious.
Cloudhawk pushed these distracting thoughts from his mind. His body was consumed with a sudden tearing pain which he knew meant he’d reached his limit.
The vast sea disappeared. His consciousness returned.
The first thing he felt when he opened his eyes was intense pain. It was an anguish that wracked his whole body. Underneath the pain was a maddening itch that wouldn’t go away. Cloudhawk pulled up his clothes to survey the damage and found his wounds were stitched. He could tell by the sutures that Mantis had done it.
They’d won. Fuckin’ a!
The pain and itching both originated from his healing injuries. Pain was expected, since in the Wastelands, there wasn’t much in the way of anesthetics. If you got hurt out here, you gritted your teeth and bore it.
As for the itching, it was a reaction to the panacea. It increased healing by more than a factor of ten – a wound that would likely take ten days to heal would be fully recovered in one. The intense itch was from skin, muscle, and bone knitting back together at breakneck speed. Altogether, it was less bearable than the pain.
Panacea wasn’t perfect and was intended to be used with antipruritics and nutrient supplements. These days, however, supplies were limited. Such impressive medicines were longer accessible, so having the panacea alone was the best they could do.
There were two primary side effects.
The first was the itching, which could get so bad that it drove some sufferers insane. In the old days, anti-itch medications were a requirement because most normal people couldn’t stand it.
The second was the strain it put on the victim’s body. Panacea itself didn’t provide any regenerative benefits; in fact, it was just a powerful steroid hormone. Agents within it stirred the latent potential of every cell to instigate recovery. Using too much of it was like trying to squeeze the last bit of water from a dry sponge. The victim would draw too much from his own body and ultimately reduce his life expectancy. To prevent this side effect, it used to be paired with nutrient supplements.
Cloudhawk didn’t know any of this. He was focused on the intense hunger and the sound of his angry bowels, probably due to the strain the healing put on his body. He struggled mightily to get out of bed, before hunting down one of the maidservants and telling her to prepare a large table of food. Whatever they had. Everything the outpost could offer. He thought he deserved a big meal to help him recover quickly.
79 Power Spike
Cloudhawk gorged himself on food and drink, using the nutrients to help his wounds recover faster. At the current rate, he figured he’d be back to normal in three days. While the panacea certainly helped, his rapid recovery was mostly due to his own regenerative abilities.
In the midst of his meal, Cloudhawk could hear boots approaching.
A lithe and beautif
ul woman appeared, short of hair and stature but very well proportioned. She wore no armor, and her chest was concealed by nothing more than a tube top that left her enticing abdomen bare to the eye. The ample protrusions in front caught the eye of many, as did her leather-wrapped rump. Her pants were skin tight and outlined every curve on her powerful legs – not long, not short, but well sculpted.
Artemis didn’t have as beautiful a face as the Bloodsoaked Queen, but the demon hunter had been born in the Elysian lands. Her family was respected and affluent, so she had been given the best growing up. Artemis, on the other hand, was a wild woman from a wild place. She was a wastelander, through and through. The two ladies had led very different lives, and judging by wastelander standards, Artemis was a rare and incredible specimen.
“Well, well… I didn’t think little brother was going to make it – or that he could eat like this. No wonder I have an eye for you, eh?”
She wrapped him in a hug.
One might expect a hug from a beautiful woman to be a pleasant experience, but she snatched him up with all the force of a grizzly bear. Far from pleasant, Cloudhawk’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, and his neck nearly snapped. He slapped her arms, entreating mercy. “Let go. Lemme go!”
“Sorry, sorry – I got excited. You alright?” Her words were apologetic, but her face told a different story. She released Cloudhawk and pressed a hand to his cheek. “I want to tell you some good news. From now on, I’m the leader of this outpost!”
The news surprised him. “What about Hydra?”
She rolled her eyes at his stupid question. If Hydra were alive, how could she lead? Speaking of Hydra, she was reminded of something the Bloodsoaked Queen had ordered. “Are you full? Come with me. We’re going to visit the dungeon. We’ve got to let someone out.”
As they traversed the fort – and in fact, the whole outpost – Cloudhawk could hear the sounds of battle. Everything seemed chaotic, and neither the Queen nor Mantis was anywhere to be found. Presumably, they were out dealing with those rebelling against Hydra’s replacement.
The Wastelander Page 57
