by Samuel Fort
Chapter 36: Ribs
As the walls of the old block-walled gas station cracked, Lieutenant Callis yelled, “Get ready to move out! On my signal!”
The building behind the gas station, the squad’s next fallback position, was a small steel-framed metal warehouse with open bay doors on both sides. It appeared to be filled with old tires. It was the ninth building they would seek cover in. It was just fifty feet away but that might as well have been a mile. Every time the Peth made a run for it, they lost two or three more fighters. The creature would either jump on top of them or just roll over them. Anyone not crushed to death by the giant ribs would get chopped to pieces as the creature constricted its body.
Two buildings ago an enterprising soldier had attempted to run down the middle of the monster, too late learning that the lattice of ribs on the ground were essentially bear traps. His feet were severed immediately, then his calves, and then, as he tried to stop his fall forward, his arms. It was a gruesome spectacle.
“Get ready!” Callis yelled, a hand in the air as he propped himself up in the doorway.
As if anticipating the Peth’s command, the creature flipped and filled the alley they were preparing to cross, pointed its grotesque trunk at them, and roared.
“Bastard!” screamed Callis, recoiling and covering his hears. The sound was deafening, like a fighter jet firing its afterburners at close range. A large chunk of concrete fell from the gas station’s roof and exploded on the floor.
“What do we do?” yelled the man next to him.
“We – what the hell?”
“Is that the queen?” asked another Peth.
“Oh, shit.”
Fiela had watched the monster from the roof of the tire warehouse for several minutes and had anticipated it would flip itself between the gas station and the warehouse to block the Peth’s escape. The thing might not have much of a brain, but what little brain it had was one hundred percent dedicated to killing, which included anticipating its prey’s movements.
Fortunately, the thing seemed so focused on its prey that it became oblivious to the rest of its environment. The long tentacles that dangled from its brainpan – that’s what she decided it was – always pointed at its next victims, and right now, they all pointed at the gas station. For the moment, it had no idea Fiela existed.
The girl had already removed her boots, and while the snow-covered roof was freezing, the discomfort caused by the cold was offset by the sense of control she felt when her bare feet were in contact with what she was standing on. The highly evolved nerves at the bottom of her feet began feeding data to a brain that had been trained to process it into useful information. Within seconds, she knew what kind of traction the roof would provide her, how far back she would need to start her run, where she would need to launch from, and how far she could expect to travel in the air.
A key component of her plan was the long rusty chain she’d found on the ground below. It had a large metal hook on one end. She tied it around her waist and looped it several times around her neck before moving exactly twenty-two paces from the edge of the roof, pivoting, and beginning to sprint forward. Sprinting was her specialty. She was far faster than even the most celebrated Olympian, to the point that she literally became a blur while in motion. At just the right point, the assassin launched herself into the air.
She landed in a crouched position atop the rib that supported the brainpan. She quickly withdrew one of her large black daggers and with all her strength, plunged it into the rib. The creature reared back in anger, seeking to throw off the assassin, but Fiela held on to the dagger, using it as a handle and allowing herself to be tossed about in all directions as the monster roared. Beneath her the network of ribs opened and closed at a furious speed as the thing tried to capture one of her dangling feet and chop it off. Fiela, understanding this, crossed her legs and lifted them up behind her. She had aligned her body so that each time she fell, she fell atop the impaled rib and not into the dangerous void on either side.
She heard gunshots beneath her and saw that Callis had brought the surviving Peth into the open. They stood directly in front of the monster, firing low, wanting to get the creature’s attention without an errant shot hitting Fiela. The ploy worked. The creature fell horizontal and began moving toward the Peth, roaring.
One of the Peth, a Lily, ran. The others stood their ground, except for the grim-faced Lieutenant Callis, who actually strode toward the creature, taunting it with obscenities. Hearing the man’s expletives, Fiela grinned.
That’s the spirit.
She took in a deep breath. Okay, here’s the REALLY tricky part…
Her observations had convinced her that the contraction of the ribs was, at least in part, automatic. If anything came into contact with the inside of a rib, the monster immediately constricted the affected area in order to slice in two whatever it was. In this way it was like a Venus Flytrap. Touch the nerves on the inner portion of the ribs and the trap would slam shut. The trick, then, was to not touch the nerves that lined the ribs.
That was easier said than done. The gaps between the ribs were at best two feet wide when spread and their constant expansions and contractions made it almost impossible to select a safe point of entry. She unrolled the chain around her neck and anchored the hook on the dagger stuck in the monster’s rib. The links of the chain were a quarter inch thick and she thought they might be able to endure three, maybe four, of the creature’s chomps. That would take only seconds.
Taking in a deep breath, she stood with her arms at her sides and waited for what seemed like an eternity. At last, the monster moved toward the Peth in the gas station, pulling apart the two ribs directly beneath her. As they expanded, she stepped off and fell between them.
It was a perfect drop. Her body as vertical as a plumb line, Fiela made no contact with the ribs. The creature’s first inkling that it had been invaded occurred when the chain around the girl’s waist went taut and slammed against the adjacent rib’s nerve endings. As Fiela scrambled madly up the chain, the offended ribs snapped feverishly at the metal links, clipping the chain in two. But by then Fiela had reached the shell that housed its tiny brain. She held onto it for dear life.
The freak roared and began gyrating madly in an attempt to dislodge the assassin. Fiela’s strength and dexterity made the efforts futile. She used her second dagger to seek out the soft flesh between the top of the brainpan and the rib it was attached to. Slicing, sawing, and prying, she managed to severe the connection between brain and muscle.
With a pitiful final roar, the creature began to die.
When its death gyrations were complete, Fiela climbed back atop the monster. As she did, Callis and his Peth moved forward, still aimed in on the creature. Not until they were certain it was truly dead did they lower their weapons.
As they began shouting and high-fiving one another, Callis yelled, “Annasa, are you okay?”
“Fine,” she yelled down. She was lying on her stomach atop the creature, unwedging the dagger she’d used as an anchor for the chain. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
Her dagger retrieved, Fiela leapt gracefully from rib to rib back to the roof of the tire warehouse, put her boots on, and returned to the remnants of her squadron below.
“Well done, Annasa,” said Callis. Like the other Peth, he seemed unsure what to do. Had Fiela been anyone other than the queen, much less the Edimmu, the soldiers would have swarmed the girl, hugging her and showering her with accolades. But none were allowed to touch her.
“Thanks,” she said, unaware of the awkwardness of the situation. “Gods, that was a good fight!” She smiled, truly happy. “Where is Captain Bavenmore?”
“He was killed, Annasa. A hero’s death.”
Fiela nodded, her smile still in place. The death of fellow Peth no longer moved her, though she was glad the man had died bravely. “We shall burn a candle for him when we return to Steepleguard.”
She saw that t
he surviving Peth had formed a circle around her. They gazed at her with awe. Seeing this, her chest constricted. She closed her eyes. “Lieutenant?”
“Yes, Annasa?”
“You are now a Captain, and you’re in command.”
The man was astonished. He was a diehard Orduna and already viewed the red-headed queen – the rightful queen – as a demigod. That belief had just been greatly reinforced by her dispatch of the temple monster. To be promoted by her personally on such a fateful day was the greatest honor he could imagine. He fell to one knee. In a trembling voice, he said, “Thank you, Annasa.”
Fiela made a quick gesture with her right hand that made the promotion official. Even those who were too far away to hear her words understood the honor being bestowed upon Callis.
Fiela said, “Tend to the wounded. In thirty minutes we will regroup and go to the Ardoon’s home to ensure he and Lady Thalassa are safe. I do not want them to wander back to this place, not knowing the danger.”
Callis looked up, tears in his eyes. “As you say, Annasa.”
As the girl prepared to move away, she saw the Peth who had fled during combat. He was standing at the back of the group. A Lily, he ostensibly supported both Lilian and Fiela, as both were wives of the rightful king, yet combat had revealed the man’s true colors.
His eyes met the queen’s just before his head exploded.
Fiela lowered her Glock. “No candle for him,” she said.
“No, Annasa,” replied Callis.
Fiela walked away, saying over one shoulder, “You have your orders.”
“Yes, Annasa.” Callis stood quickly and yelled at the top of his lungs, “You! Make way! Make way for the queen!” As the Peth fell back and Fiela made a hasty retreat, he screamed, “Squad leaders, I want a SITREP in five mikes. MOVE!”
