Darr

by Theresa Beachman

  “What is this?” Violet demanded.

  Judge paid her no heed, smiling beatifically.

  “I asked you, what the fuck is this?” she repeated. “Let him go. Now.”

  Judge’s face crinkled in bemusement. “Now, that would spoil the show sweetheart. Besides, he volunteered to do this. For you.” His gaze was obsidian. “Can you imagine that? He actually wants to fight because he thinks I’ll let you go. Your soon-to-be-dead boyfriend is a man of honor. I, fortunately, am not, so we’ll sit and enjoy while he dies an entertaining death.”

  He yanked on Violet’s collar, pulling her up against him, then grabbed the loop of her hair at the base of her skull and wrenched it. Fire burned across her scalp. “He’s going to fight, sweetheart, and you’re going to watch. Do you understand?”

  Violet gasped, her scalp smarting. “Please, don’t.”

  Another brutal yank drove the air from her lungs in a blast of agony. “I said you’re going to watch. Do you understand?”

  Black spots danced in front of her eyes. “Yes. I understand.”

  Finally, he released her.

  Violet swallowed and smoothed tremulous hands across her bare thighs. She risked a glance at Darr alone in the arena.

  He hadn’t abandoned her. He had chosen to fight for her.

  Her throat ached as she asked, “Who is he fighting?”

  Judge turned, pity illuminating his features. “Not, who, sweetheart. What.”

  38

  Darr was unsure if he was strong enough after the attack at the library. His legs trembled with the effort of walking, his neck was stiff, and his forearms were rubbed raw from the rope restraints that Mathew had purposely tied too tight. The top of his head ached as if he wore a crown of barbed metal.

  The Scutter he’d fought before flooded pain across his psyche. Darr steeled himself, burying the distraction as Mathew displayed him to the crowd.

  He had no other choice.

  He didn’t have a hope in hell of getting Violet out of here on his own. The only way forward was to accept he no longer flew solo. He was a Chittrix-made freak, but the changes that had terrified him had the potential to morph into strength.

  He was human, but he was also connected to the Chittrix. He would embrace both if it meant saving Violet and bringing her, Cassy, and the child out from under Judge’s control.

  The arena stank with the tang of gasoline from the generator, the hum of the engine an omnipresent throb matching the beating drums at the far end. Men threw empty plastic cups and jeered as he was led like a bull to the slaughter.

  Mathew kicked the back of Darr’s knees, forcing him forward to where Violet sat at Judge’s side. Her skin was almost translucent under the harsh lighting, her freckles standing out in sharp relief.

  Darr gritted his jaw as blood pounded in his ears. He wanted to call to her, to let her know he would fix this mess, that he’d spent months running from himself and what he’d become, only for her to blow into his life and upend everything. That she’d shown him that he was still there, and that some things were still worth fighting for.

  But Mathew tore him away before he could even form the words in his mind, pulling him back to the center of the arena. Dirt scuffed under Darr’s boots in tiny puffs as Mathew stopped next to a pinion point screwed deep into the rock. Mathew cracked his gun on Darr’s temple then rough hands forced Darr to his knees and held him while Mathew looped a thick collar around his neck and connected it with a robust chain to the bolt in the bedrock.

  Mathew gave the chain a final check then stretched to his full height in front of Darr, blocking his view of the crowd. His eyes were bright and feverish as he tugged at his beard and winked. He stooped and spoke directly into Darr’s ear. “Don’t worry, she’ll be taken care of.”

  Darr locked his thighs, tensing in readiness for the fight. He glared at Mathew. “If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”

  Mathew tipped his head to one side, a flicker of uncertainty flashing across his eyes. How much had he guessed from the incident at the library? With an abrupt shake of his head, Mathew turned to face the crowd. The men went wild, the noise of their cheers echoing off the rock wall.

  Darr rose and planted his feet in a wide stance. His new skillset was shifting into something lighter and less burdensome. Even with the scraping torture that lanced across his forehead, certainty in his capabilities settled within him. Without the medication blurring his world, everything was sharp and clear again. New mental muscles flexed in his mind.

  He needed more than one Scutter for what he had planned.

  His eyes slid shut as he opened himself fully, searching the skies for Chittrix. It was night, when they preferred to hunt, and he made a connection in seconds. A small group, carving through the moonlight high above the clouds, enjoying the rush of freezing air against the expanse of their wings. Darr reached out, slipping from one alien to the next, searching for the dominant one.

  A lone Chittrix circled wide of the group, its mouth open wide as it called to the others, guiding the hunt.

  There.

  Darr pounced, slamming into the consciousness of the alpha Chittrix. He burrowed deep within, screening himself from its awareness, but leaving himself a lifeline, a thread through which he could manipulate and control. Slowly, one by one, the Chittrix changed direction, taking a new flight path in the direction of the Box.

  Darr opened his eyes.

  Drumbeats pulsed up through his soles. Mathew handed him a spear, a long pole of stripped wood with a homemade blade strapped to the end. Darr accepted it, his attention zeroed in on Mathew.

  Mathew squinted, ducking closer. “What the fuck?”

  Did Mathew see it? The Chittrix darkness within him?

  Feet stamped, matching the drums, the vibration traveling through the bedrock.

  Mathew jerked backward, brushing the dust from his thighs. He shot Darr a sideways glance then jogged to the edge of the arena under Judge, casting glances over his shoulder as he ran.

  Darr was ready.

  He braced himself, absorbing the men’s bloodlust as it saturated the air. Violet was all he cared about now. He’d been an idiot to think he could take her to her brother and leave. That a life without her was what he wanted. As if the world was that simple anymore. How could he be happy anywhere, without her? The truth seemed so clear and simple, he struggled to understand how it had taken him so long to get his head around it.

  Violet had asked him to return with her. She had accepted him, knowing full well he was different. He only hoped it wasn’t too late, that she would forgive him.

  The drums fell silent, and a hush of anticipation descended on the arena as Mathew spoke to Judge. Both men turned and surveyed him. Judge laughed and shook his head as Mathew gesticulated. Then the conversation was over as Judge dropped back onto the bench next to Violet, silencing Mathew with a swipe of his hand. Mathew glared and left him, tracking Darr until he disappeared through the dark arch where Darr knew the Scutter was waiting.

  Darr internalized his attention once more. The Scutter hidden in the murk of the arch was bright and at the fore of his mind. But curling around the edges of him, succumbing to the promise of hot blood, were the Chittrix closing in on the Box.

  Darr flexed unfamiliar mental power, sinking into the flickering mentality of the lead Chittrix. Caustic blood blazed through his arteries, delivering oxygen to webbed wings that powered without fatigue. Through its faceted vision, he perceived the landscape changing. Grainy images flooded him—trees, roads, railway lines, and the gaping hole below where the Box vented to the world above ground.

  A thick hush spread throughout the crowd as four men staggered into the arena. Between them, they dragged the thrashing Scutter toward the center. It bucked furiously, fighting the four poles locked into the metal collar around its neck. Its lethal barbed tail had been bound to its back, incapacitating the poisonous tip and realigning its center of balance, but the men still sweated with the effor
t of maneuvering its armored, dog-sized body.

  The Scutter shook its head with fierce determination when the men halted ten feet from Darr. Two men jammed their guiding poles into the ground, pinning the alien, while the other two looped metal chains through its collar to another ring sunk in the bedrock. The final loop secured, the men backed off hurriedly as the Scutter thrashed a blur of multi-jointed talons in a violent effort to free itself.

  The frenzy continued for several seconds then the Scutter flattened on the ground. The nearest man lunged, and with one swift slice, cut the rope binding the Scutter’s scorpion-like tail. It sprung free, arcing high into the air. Thick yellow poison flicked from the tip, scorching the ground in a hissing spatter.

  The Scutter hurled itself left and right, straining the metal links to their limits. Fear and fury emanated from it in heated waves that blasted through Darr. It raised its head, searching the night sky above, its front mandibles slashing in a clicking fury.

  Darr shifted, a measured press from the sole of one foot to another. His breathing slowed. In his mind’s eye, he carved through the night air. Yellow light spilled out below him, enticing him closer.

  Bonded with the Chittrix, Darr amplified the prey below. Hot blood. Wet meat. Buried deep. Hidden from the hunters, but no longer. Hot air rose from the vent, carrying the scent of prey. Darr could taste it as the black tongue lashed from his mouth. Organs deep in his thorax detected the compelling electrical rhythm of beating human hearts.

  Here.

  The Chittrix folded its wings flush to its body and plummeted. The swarm followed.

  Violet screamed, her voice echoing across the arena. “Darr!”

  Whatever happened now, he accepted. He was doing this for Violet. With that last thought, Darr unleashed the Chittrix.

  39

  Violet’s stomach knotted as Mathew approached Judge. His face was serious as he craned upward, his mouth moving rapidly. Most of his words dissolved in the torrent of verbal abuse charging the atmosphere, but snippets survived to reach her ears.

  “….don’t know….never seen anything like…”

  Her fingers flew to the base of her throat, and a flutter sprang to life low in her belly. Beyond Mathew, Darr stood motionless, his head dipped in concentration, the spear held loose at his side. He looked more like he was meditating than preparing to fight a Scutter…

  Realization doused her like a bucket of cold water.

  “Darr!” Her voice was lost in the din of men, but his head jerked in her direction, his eyes snapping open. His expression was almost feral, his mouth twisted in a snarl. She gasped as her blood pressure soared, drumming through her veins.

  Judge rounded on her and slapped her across the mouth. Blood burst from her bottom lip, and she coughed, red droplets smearing her palm.

  The Scutter reared, pulling the chain taut, its chitinous legs scratching the air. Fists of desperate men pumped in time to the drums, feet stamped, and clouds of fine, white dust rose as the crowd clamored for battle.

  Violet gripped the edge of the bench, her fingernails denting the worn wood. She focused on Darr and the pacing Scutter even though her mind screamed that she should look the other way, that he was going to be torn apart. But the flutter in her belly strengthened and grew bolder as the Scutter twitched in hesitation. Its mirrored compound eyes were unreadable, but its limbs scraped the rock in an erratic dance that maintained the maximum distance from Darr.

  Darr collapsed to his knees, cradling his head while the screams of the men escalated, forcing Violet to cover her ears with her hands. The Scutter convulsed and scraped its head across the rock as if attempting to dislodge an irritating insect. Then it throbbed into her bones and flesh, and she knew.

  Darr was controlling the Scutter.

  A thick vibration hummed against her skin, worming through her bones and plucking at her muscles. She touched her forearm. Her skin shimmered from the acoustics.

  The cavern darkened, and Violet craned her neck, squinting to make sense of what she saw. The edges of the sky vent above them were blurry with motion.

  Chittrix.

  Darr had brought Chittrix to the Box.

  The first scuttled down the sheer face of the rock chimney, covering the vertical drop at a giddy pace. Chitin plates scaled back from razor sharp teeth as it launched itself at the closest man, engulfing him in a swath of barbed claws

  All hell broke loose as panic engulfed the cavern.

  Judge released his iron clamp on Violet’s shoulder as he stumbled, his mouth cracked open in horror.

  Cassy bolted upright with Fiona in her arms at the same time that Violet jumped to her feet and collided with the solid mass of Clarkie. He grabbed her arm, and she pounded his fist, kicking and hissing. “Fucking let go of me.”

  He swung Violet around himself in an effortless tug, creating a human barrier between the women and Judge. He released her, shooing her away with a flick of his meaty hands. “Get out of here.”

  Violet retreated, not quite believing. She tripped and bumped against Cassy, expecting Clarkie to come after her, but he didn’t move. He stood with his arms spread wide, blocking Judge.

  “Out of my fucking way!” Judge screamed, spittle flying.

  Clarkie shook his head, motioning the women to go. A gunshot rang out, and a bloom of blood flowered on Clarkie’s chest. He looked down, eyes wide, then toppled.

  Judge stepped forward, his mouth a bloodless line. He aimed at Violet.

  She bolted, her hand secured in Cassy’s, heading for the center of the arena where Darr remained chained to the floor.

  Around her, Chittrix tore men apart, their black talons slick with blood. The men retaliated, bullets and laser pulses shredding armored chitin. A river of yellow Chittrix fluid soaked into the dusty rock.

  Chaos crashed around Violet but didn’t touch her. At last, she was beside Darr and able to touch him. The flutter in her belly pulsed as a strong rhythm.

  Darr was protecting her.

  The chained Scutter froze, its arced tail stabbing the air as Violet shook Darr’s shoulder. He rocked, but he wasn’t there, his head lolling like it had when she’d dragged him from the car.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Panic laced Cassy’s voice.

  “I need more time to help him.”

  Cassy shook her head, clutching Fiona to her breast. She took a step backward. “We don’t have time.”

  Violet raised a hand. “Don’t. If you go too far, the Chittrix will see you.”

  “What?” Cassy’s brow wrinkled.

  The Scutter’s serrated tongue rasped and licked the air. It took a pace forward.

  Violet cast around for a weapon, but there was nothing. She picked up a rock and hurled it at the Scutter, but it dodged the missile effortlessly, its tail pounding the rock. Violet fell to her knees in front of Darr, clutching his shoulders. She yelled, desperate to rouse him.

  “Violet.” Cassy shouted, her eyes wide.

  Violet turned.

  Judge limped toward them from the far side of the arena. Blood covered his face, and his white shirt was torn, one sleeve gone. Deep gouges ran the length of his forearm. He dragged an axe behind him.

  The light overhead pulsed and flickered, threatening to plunge them all into hell.

  Cassy drew her hand protectively across Fiona’s head. “We’re running out of time.”

  Violet pointed at the nearest dead man, his pulse rifle loose between lifeless fingers. “Over there. Get his gun. I’ll get Darr free.”

  Cassy shook her head, rooted to the spot, her lips pursed and white. Fiona clung to her like a baby monkey, her face buried in Cassy’s hair.

  Violet swore. “Fuck.”

  She left Darr and sprinted for the dead man and his pulse rifle, gritting her teeth at the sparks of pain igniting in her wounded thigh. Violet slotted the weapon against her body, her breathing slowing as familiarity and training took over. This she could do.

  She fired at Darr’s ch
ain as she walked forward, vaporizing the metal and freeing him. She kept going, ignoring the Scutter’s hissing and snapping.

  She crouched down. “Darr?” She cupped his cheek and kissed him full on the mouth, breathing in the scent of green and leaves she’d thought was lost forever. She pulled back and lifted his chin. He blinked, mist melting from his gaze. Then he was back, his eyes focusing on her.

  The noise of the world came roaring back into her ears, and she released the breath she’d been holding. It had been only a matter of days, but the possibility he wouldn’t come back, that he could be lost in his bond with the Chittrix, terrified her. And not just because she didn’t want to be alone, but because she wanted him. She’d tried to ignore the truth of her feelings because she’d truly believed there was no space in her life for anyone else. She’d been wrong.

  “Violet.”

  “Yeah. I know.” She helped him to his feet. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  40

  Darr hobbled in a lurching gait, relying on Violet for balance. Gradually the fog dissipated from his mind, but he was worn out. Forging the link with the Chittrix had drained him, and the ongoing protection he was providing for Violet, Cassy, and Fiona was depleting rapidly.

  His feet dragged in the stony dirt, but Violet was at his side, her arm curved securely around his waist, her fingers snagged in his empty belt loops. He cupped the sweep of her shoulder, holding her close, knowing he’d never let her go. When exactly it had happened, he wasn’t sure, but over the previous few days, she’d captured his heart and soul.

  A scream from behind them brought him stuttering to a halt. Violet stumbled mid-stride, her face paling.

  Cassy screamed again as Judge ripped Fiona from her arms, his gun pointed at the girl’s temple as he carried her backward. He grinned, exposing the pink of his gums. Chittrix gunk soaked his clothes and skin, the yellow tint giving him a jaundiced appearance.