In both speed and strength, Cloudhawk’s foe was his superior!
With his normal abilities, Cloudhawk wouldn’t last three rounds, so his chances for victory were slim. He had to focus his power into the exorcist rod and use it to protect himself from the deadly scythe as it sought to separate his head from his body. At the moment their two weapons connected, he released the gathered psychic energy in a forceful blast that not only neutralized his enemy’s powerful strike but also cracked his scythe staff and knocked him back several steps.
Cloudhawk was prepared to follow through, but the chieftain was too quick. He followed the momentum of the riposte to bring his scythe around the side, switching hands behind his back and bringing the weapon back around crosswise in a vicious swipe. Cloudhawk was forced to switch from attack to defense.
The scythe’s blade hooked onto Cloudhawk’s staff. Suddenly, the young man’s hands were empty.
He watched as the exorcist rod was flung away. Cloudhawk scowled as he was left with no way to protect himself. The sweeper leader didn’t let up, giving Cloudhawk no opportunity to find a way out. His knuckles were white as they gripped the scythe tightly, bringing it down on the boy in a definitive slice.
Cloudhawk had nowhere to go!
They were too close for Cloudhawk’s invisibility cloak to help him. He threw up his hands with throwing daggers held crosswise to catch the scythe and managed to deflect the blow. He staggered backwards again, but this time, he let the throwing daggers fly.
Clang-clang! Two crisp ringing sounds hung in the air. The sweeper deftly whipped his scythe around to knock the hidden weapons away before coming in for another attack.
The only weapon Cloudhawk had left was the dagger from the Elysian lands, the one the Bloodsoaked Queen had given him. Holding it tightly in both hands, he raised it overhead where it met the scythe. It hit him like a thunderbolt, so strong that he was brought down on one knee. His legs were half buried in the sand, and every joint in his body started to pop.
Rage poured from the sweeper as he screamed into Cloudhawk’s face, “Die!”
Cloudhawk was clearly no match for his foe. The pressure exerted by the scythe kept growing, and its blade drew closer with every passing second. He growled back at him through gritted teeth, “Was that demon really so important to you? Do you really think he gave a shit about the wastelands? He was a demon. A demon!”
“What does a moron like you know?” The loathing in the sweeper’s face made his hideous appearance even more terrifying. The Caliph’s death was a disaster. He would gladly exchange his life for the master’s, as would any number of the master’s followers. “You’re going to pay with your life, young demon hunter. You’ll pay for what you did to the master!”
“Sorry, I'm not in the mood to die!” Red was creeping into Cloudhawk’s eyes, and with it came a strength that steadily increased to counter the sweeper’s. As his scythe was slowly pushed back, the chieftain stared in shock, unable to comprehend how this small human had so much strength within him. But he pushed his surprise out his mind and heaved back. The razor-sharp edge of the scythe inched closer to Cloudhawk’s scalp.
Then, at this critical moment, the sweeper’s body shook and went rigid.
An arrow made of sand shot out from Cloudhawk. The sweeper chieftain was too close to dodge and could only watch the sneak attack tear through his weeping flesh and rip out through his back.
“This… is… the master’s power…”
He stumbled backwards, staring wide-eyed at the hole in his chest. Spurts of fresh blood gushed out and splattered on the sands below. Even as strong as he was, the sweeper couldn’t continue fighting after such a serious wound. Cloudhawk lunged forward and grabbed his enemy’s weapon, fighting for control. He planted a foot in his foe’s wound and flung him away.
Blood erupted from the mutant’s mouth as he struck the ground. He stared up at the sky, staring into the space in shock. This human, a mere child, had taken his life – and with the master’s own power?
“Why…? Why must it be like this?”
He coughed, thick blood bubbling up from his lungs. Before he closed his eyes, the last image he saw was Cloudhawk standing over him, scythe in hand. He’d lost, but it didn’t matter. They’d lost their leader, their pillar. Death was nothing to fear.
Thud!
The wicked blade of the scythe did not separate the sweeper’s head from his body as he’d anticipated. When the chieftain opened his eyes, he saw his weapon buried in the sand half a foot away. He watched the flapping cloak of that masked youth retreating into the sandstorm.
Disbelief was writ plain on the sweeper’s face. Why didn’t he kill me?
He managed to grab his weapon and used it to help him stand. His wound might not be fatal, but it certainly left him unable to fight. Cloudhawk could have beheaded him and ended his troubles – but he didn’t. The sweeper simply couldn’t understand why the boy hadn’t.
Cloudhawk retrieved his exorcist rod and returned to the site of the crash. There, he found the two remaining Greenland soldiers. One had been crushed by the wreckage, and the other – Depp, the mutant – was unconscious. His wounds were bad, but there were still signs of life.
He managed to find one of the wasteland lizards roaming the area and brought it under control. Cloudhawk draped Depp over the back and then climbed up himself. He urged the beast away from the carnage.
About ten minutes later, the rest of the sweeper contingent caught up to their leader. Several of the more intelligent warriors helped their wounded chieftain stand.
“Boss! Are you alright? Where’s the demon hunter?”
“I’m not gonna die. Don’t bother with me. He didn’t get far. Go after him!” He waved them off and shoved off the one helping him stand. The hatred in him hadn’t eased at all despite Cloudhawk sparing his life. “We have to kill him!”
“Yes!”
Hundreds of sweepers picked up the trail.
However, it wasn’t easy. Most of the sweepers were on foot because their vehicles were destroyed. In less than an hour, the sands and wind had wiped away his trail. He’d escaped.
By then, night had fallen.
Cloudhawk found a relatively safe place to rest. He hadn’t had a drop of water for what felt like ages, and after that fight, he was both parched and starved.
“Why didn’t you kill him?”
A deep, weak voice caught his attention from behind. Depp had woken up, or perhaps, he hadn’t been fully unconscious to being with.
“Why should I? He couldn’t fight back.”
“You know they aren’t going to let up.” Depp slowly managed to sit up. His dull expression and sharp eyes formed an odd contrast. “Mercy doesn’t mean shit to them. They’ll just keep coming.”
It wasn’t mercy, nor was it pity.
Cloudhawk wasn’t entirely sure why he spared the sweeper. He just felt like it was the right thing to do. He was just following what he thought was right. Thinking back on it, he figured his moment of compassion had something to do with respect.
Where did that respect come from? He couldn’t say!
“They can’t catch up to us for now.” He was exhausted, and it was showing. He’d summoned the Gospel of Sand’s power at that final moment, but it had drained what little energy he had. “You stay here. I’m gonna see if I can find us some food and water.”
A strange look crossed Depp’s face.
With one weak hand, he gripped his bow, and with the other, he drew the last iron arrow from his quiver. Slowly, he nocked the arrow, drew back the string, and aimed at Cloudhawk’s back.
The young wastelander was unsuspecting. He hadn’t felt the need to guard himself against the dim-looking bowman. After all, Depp had been nothing but helpful and obedient. When the other Greenland soldiers were talking about leaving, he forced them to stay, displaying a tenacity the others couldn’t muster.
So never in Cloudhawk’s wildest dreams did he think Depp would ai
m an arrow at him.
However, even though he didn’t suspect Depp, he had not lost his keen sense for danger. As the wasteland-wyrm-tendon bow was pulled taut, that unsettling itch made Cloudhawk turn his head.
Too late!
The iron arrow shot out like a devilish serpent, faster than he could believe. In his weakened and sluggish state, he couldn’t dodge the unforeseen attack. When the arrow hit his chest, he flew back like he’d been yanked by a dragline. All Cloudhawk heard was a sharp whistle and a thud before he was knocked through the air a dozen feet. He hit the ground hard.
There was no leather armor that could stop this arrow. Not even his cloak, which could stop bullets, could protect him.
“Your view of the wastelands is naïve, just like your view of people.” Depp slowly rose. His dim and honest expression was gone, replaced with the cunning hunger of a feral wolf. “Out here, mercy gets you killed.”
102 The Marshes
How could a place like the wastelands – a poisoned cesspool of villainy – produce a sincerely honest man?
The answer was that it couldn’t.
Growing up among the scavengers Cloudhawk had seen the savagery and violence of humanity. He knew that humans were no different from beasts when the conditions were right. Humans were capable of anything if it meant saving their own lives. But truth be told, he was inexperienced when it came to how cunning and malevolent a man’s heart could be.
After the Queen’s painstakingly thorough selection process, he thought he could trust Depp – that the taciturn, somewhat slow man wouldn’t scheme against him.
He thought that Depp would keep his promises until his mission was done.
Cloudhawk really didn’t understand the world yet. The wastelands were still a mystery, as were the people he surrounded himself with. Depp was right. That’s how he got the drop on him.
The Greenland traitor slung his bow back over his shoulder and pulled out a short hunting knife. Meanwhile, Cloudhawk lay upon the ground, writhing in pain.
Depp’s iron arrow was powerful enough to shoot right through a boulder, but it didn’t manage that with Cloudhawk due to his spectacular cloak. The typical blades and bullets of the wasteland couldn’t penetrate it, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t cause damage. The arrow, however, did manage to bury itself in his chest, likely having pushed the cloak into his skin, through flesh to shatter bones and ultimately implanting itself and the cloak in his organs.
Depp moved in towards Cloudhawk, confident that his prey was finished. He paused to pick up the exorcist rod, which had been discarded to one side.
It was Cloudhawk’s main weapon, now out of reach. He had no way to fight back.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why?” Though Depp felt Cloudhawk was finished, he still circled warily around the young man. He would wait until the kid died or lost consciousness, talking as the seconds ticked by. “Actually, at first, I did plan to complete the mission, to bring you safely to the destination. The commission was sizeable. The task was attractive. But the further we got, the more I came to realize that your head was more valuable detached from your body than on it. Tens… hundreds of times more valuable. If that’s the case, I asked myself, why should I give my life for Greenland Outpost? Really, it’s all thanks to your skill and your luck that we escaped the sweepers. But now, we don’t need to worry about that.”
It’s always been this way! Always about self-interest!
With the mask concealing the boy’s face, Depp couldn’t see Cloudhawk’s expression, but he could see the weakness creeping into his eyes. Eventually, he continued with a bitter laugh, “All of your flashy toys belong to me now. I’ll cut off your head and trade it for a fortune. Then, I’ll be sittin’ pretty. Enough to set me up for a good long time. What would be the use of going back to Greenland then?”
Inconceivable. After the sweepers, after that bloody battle, in the end, Cloudhawk was felled by his own people. He couldn’t move, curled like a steamed shrimp as blood leaked from the bottom of his mask. Slowly, his chest stopped moving altogether.
Depp’s face twisted into a cold, callous grin. It was time. Even if the kid wasn’t dead, he couldn’t fight back.
He flipped the hunting dagger around in his grip and held it in a reverse grip. Step by step, he closed in on Cloudhawk’s inert body, but the boy didn’t react at all. Still, despite the arrow and despite the body’s stillness, Depp remained cautious. He’d been with Cloudhawk long enough that he understood the boy’s strength.
That strength came from his tools. Alone, the kid wasn’t much. Only once he awakened his relics did he become a threat. At best, he was comparable to some of Greenland Outpost’s elite soldiers. With his relics, though, he was on the same level as someone like Snaketooth or Artemis.
In his fight with the sweepers, Cloudhawk had used up everything in him. He hadn’t the strength to activate his relics anymore. Without them, what did Depp have to fear from the runt? Besides, he was injured. Even if he suddenly sprang back to his feet and tried to fight, he couldn’t stand up to the hunter.
“Time to die…”
Depp leaned over and pulled Cloudhawk around, bringing his knife down towards the kid’s throat.
But at that moment, something felt off. He couldn’t see clearly through the dark holes of the mask’s eyes, but he could feel the sharp gaze like the glare of a hawk. Suddenly, his whole body shook and a single thought gripped him.
This isn’t right! He’s pretending… he isn’t dead!
He reacted quickly, jerking his hand back and stumbling away. Cloudhawk sprang up as quickly as the snapping of a bowstring and pulled Depp’s iron arrow from his chest. With the last of his strength, he tried to plant it in the man’s eye socket.
Depp wasn’t some extraordinary creature. He was not a special man. He reacted instinctively when Cloudhawk lunged at him and swiped his dagger toward the boy’s chest. He wasn’t a skilled hand-to-hand fighter, but being strong enough to draw back an earth wyrm tendon, he could still do some significant damage. His dagger reached its target before Cloudhawk’s arrow did.
Chink!
Depp felt it clearly, the dagger tearing through the bear hide armor and catching on the cloak. But, instead of being buried in flesh, it struck something hard – it wasn’t armor but rather something much harder than any iron protection.
What the hell was it?
Cloudhawk pressed the arrow through the soft flesh of Depp’s eye and deep into his ocular cavity. As the arrowhead carved a path through bone, blood spurt out in a gruesome fountain. He followed up with a kick to the center of Depp’s chest that sent the mutant flying back a dozen feet. Five or six rolls later, Depp was prone on the ground.
Cloudhawk finally paused for a moment, clutching his chest and wheezing. When he pulled his hand away, a metal-bound book was in his hands. It was the Gospel of Sand that had saved him from Depp’s arrow and the swipe from his dagger. Cloudhawk kept the demon’s relic hidden inside his armor, and luckily for him, that was the precise spot where Depp’s traitorous arrow had landed.
It was a mighty treasure, taken from the corpse of a demon! There was no way a shit like Depp could pierce it!
The book spread the impact of Depp’s arrow over a wider area, diffusing its power and rendering it harmless. Indeed, Cloudhawk’s armor had been split like butter, but there wasn’t a mark on his skin. The kid’s body might have been exhausted, but his mind was still sharp, so he grabbed the shaft of the arrow once it hit him and held it fast. He stumbled around like the shot had done him in, but it was all a ruse. It’d been necessary since even unarmed, Depp was still a threat.
Depp pitched and writhed in pain, but he wasn’t in danger of dying yet.
However, under present circumstances, he was in no condition to complete his gambit. His body twitched and jerked as his powerful arms groped blindly out around him. Gibberish poured from his mouth as he tried to form words, but nothing intelligible would come out. The arrow had
damaged his brain [1]. His flailing was just a reflex response.
Cloudhawk looked at the man who’d ridden with him for so many days, at the one who’d protected him on the road. He couldn’t help but sigh in regret. He picked up Depp’s knife and slipped it into the man’s heart, putting him out of his misery.
Exhausted, Cloudhawk’s chest heaved as he fought for breath. When he pulled off his mask, his face was covered in sweat and blood flowed from his nose.
The arrow hadn’t ended his life, but it sure as fuck had come close.
He figured his ribs were broken, judging by the sting. He could move, but the pain brought tears to his eyes. He was spent, both mentally and physically, so much so that he couldn’t even keep walking… but he had no choice!
He was surrounded by enemies.
Even Depp eventually gave in to temptation, so there was no question that the bandits and mercenaries would continue to pursue him with even more fervor. If he stayed here, Cloudhawk didn’t dare imagine what evils would catch up.
Struggling against the pain, he managed to pull himself back up on the wastelands lizard. Every step the beast took sent an electric pain through his torso, but he managed to stay on as they rode away. He continued for most of the night, eventually coming upon a valley by the time the sun started peeking over the horizon. So far, none of his hunters had closed the distance.
The valley was complex, with peaks and dips that stretched out before him at random. The ground was muddy, especially near the center. It was a marsh that was covered in a low-lying fog that smelled of rot. Murky water sat in stagnant puddles as far as he could see, some of which merging to form sizeable lakes.
Cloudhawk pulled out his map but was only able to discover that this place was unknown to the people of Greenland Outpost. He seemed to have stumbled on an altogether unfamiliar place, one undoubtedly filled with hidden dangers. But it was also a place where he could hide.
It quickly became apparent that his lizard mount was only going to slow him down here. It was accustomed to dry places with a lot of sand, and the muck that rose halfway up its feet made the beast cumbersome and uncomfortable. It anxiously and awkwardly picked its way along, getting slower the deeper into the marshes they traveled.
The Wastelander Page 71
