by C. W Tickner
Kane was snuggled beside Tess and Harl startled them both awake together. Thankfully they remained quiet as he cocked his head to where Damen and Dana huddled in the darkness at the edge of the camp. He’d grabbed their rifles and carefully handed them over, indicating to hold fire with a shake of his head.
So far so good. He shuffled around the fire to Troy. His friend was peacefully snoring as loud as ever, the only noise to break the dead of night. He decided to risk a sound ‘Troy?’ he said gently shaking the man. ‘Troy.’
‘The butcher’s daughter?’ Troy mumbled, as he turned over, back to sleep.
‘Oi,’ Harl hissed juddering him with both hands, ‘Troy.’
‘Huh?’ he half opened an eye. ‘What?’
‘Shhh. Get up slowly and get your rifle.’
His eyes widened at Harl’s tone. He composed himself, moving slowly for his weapon and joined them all at the edge to stare up at the twisted malevolent shadows and the people waiting within.
Chapter 26
We are heading back to the landing site. I can only hope the captains and commanders can get us back to the orbiting ship. We have to leave the surface.
‘Ready?’ Harl said. Not waiting for an answer he turned back to the fire and ignored the blindness it would bring. He tossed the nearest pile of sticks and twigs on top and twisted before the flames took hold, to see everyone lined up either kneeling or standing side by side, their weapons aimed up at the darkness.
The blaze roared into life, banishing the shadows to reveal two dozen naked people crouched among the thick tangle of cliff high bushes. All of them stared down at the strangers, holding spears and crude wooden clubs. Some were clinging on where the plants hollowed, others crouched against larger limbs. Harl had only seen four maybe five before, but now they were everywhere. They shielded their eyes from the light, squinting down at them.
A single shrill call sounded from one and a moment later they’d all clambered deeper into the spiralled plants, disappearing entirely from view.
‘That was bloody scary,’ Troy said sweeping his gun left to right at the empty stalks.
‘Who were they?’ Kane asked himself, pulling out his note book and jotting something in the fading light from the fire.
‘It’s possible they’re the fieldmen Pale spoke of.’ Tess said.
Harl recalled the talk of fields sown with people. He’d not really believed it at the time. He said as much.
‘But it makes sense,’ Tess said, ‘these plants or crops seem to contain a high density of organic matter.’
Kane tucked the pad away. ‘The way they twist,’ he said, ‘make an excellent crop to plant for a good yield.’
‘What do they eat?’ Troy asked picking up a fresh curl of stalk and sniffing it. He nibbled one end, spat, then flicked it to the bare ground.
‘I would guess at animals,’ Tess said inspecting a similar twisted branch that had been gnawed by sharp teeth.
‘Could be cannibals,’ Kane said.
‘I doubt it,’ Tess said, ‘anything that lives in this field would be potential prey.’
‘Or hunter,’ Kane said.
‘Like the rat thing in the center of that tank?’ Troy asked.
‘Something to hunt?’ Damen said lowering his gaze to the gaps at the base of the stalks.
‘No time for that,’ Harl said. ‘It’ll be light soon, best get ready to move. Dana do you need sleep?’
The hoarder chuckled, walked to the fireside and picked up her drone set apart from the rest. It had been artfully painted with a thin brown paint. She had drawn sleek lines along the side and some form of angles on top as if she could tilt a certain amount to gain a particular speed. Where had she got paint from?
Troy saw him staring as she faced the open field on the other side, inspecting the sky.
‘Dried blood,’ Troy said, as if reading his mind.
Blue light spread into the sky overhead and as the first ray of gold beamed across the tops of the crop, a series of wild cries and ululations broke from deep inside the tangled weed growing louder from behind the wall of crop. From within the thicket men came crawling like spiders between the branches heading straight for them. They didn’t look like they would wait at the edge this time.
‘Get on the drones,’ Harl said, bringing up the bracelet’s display. He activated the boards then turned and ran to the line of machines. They scrambled on to the drones, Troy slipped and over balanced as he rushed to get on. The first wild man jumped from high above, thin arms spread wide, aiming for the group. The scrawny figure barrelled into Troy’s back almost knocking him off as it clawed his face.
‘Get it off!’ Troy screamed, throwing his hands behind his head to stop the grabbing hands from smothering him. The flyer rocked side to side.
Dana, swept around the grappling men and leapt from her drone, bringing a leg up and drawing a knife mid-air. Her knee smacked between the wild man’s shoulder blades and her hand yanked the head backwards arching the body as she sliced cleanly across the gullet.
She dragged the body off Troy as two more gangly men sprang from high above. They landed hard and rolled on the ground coming up on all fours as Damen fired his rifle. Both were blasted back one after the other.
‘Up,’ Kane cried, shooting his pistol erratically from his drone hovering higher and higher above the camp.
Half a dozen wild men burst from the thicket, landing deftly and rolling to crouch, but the flyers were already out of reach.
Harl did a quick head count, reached six then tilted himself forward to gain the speed and height needed to get up over the crops. Even at the very top of the branches, men were crawling over the tips in the hopes one of them might stray too close. They shouted and clawed the air, reaching up at them as if to snatch them from the sky. Eventually they scampered away from sight as Tess and Kane fired at them.
The fields spread out around the group and from so high up the curling dense tangle was like a jumble of green wool dropped on the surface of the world.
‘Lookout!’ Damen said and the hiss of rifle shots sounded behind Harl.
A shadow fell across him and Harl ducked instinctively as a wave of cool air rushed over his head and a high squawking pierced his eardrums. It was a… a giant chicken? It was slimmer with sleek feathers but closer to the bird than anything else. It’s waxy brown feathers blocked his view of a fieldman being hoisted up from the crop, the naked body crumpled in the sharp blood coated talons. The bird gave a haunting shriek and lifted the man high above them. Harl watched the wounded man wriggle free and plunge screaming to the crop below.
The creature’s hooked beak swivelled to face them, its eyes locking on to them as it banked around towards them.
‘Go!’ Harl shouted, leaning forward to force as much speed as possible from the drone. The six of them raced away over the endless horizon of tangleweed below. The bird was gaining on them, holding it’s feathers tight to gain speed as it closed in on them. There was no time. One of them would be caught, if only to let the others get away from such a fast creature.
Dana peeled off to the left as if to make an escape, Troy followed, unsteadily just behind her. Kane and Tess swerved right.
‘This way!’ Tess called, waving her arms in an attempt to get its attention but the bird was fixed on Harl and Damen.
Green plants blurred beneath them as a shrill squawk merged with the whistle of the wind in Harl’s ears.
The bird swept in behind from over Harl’s left shoulder. Instinctively he crouched. The talons snapped shut in the empty air above him. The bird’s momentum carried it straight to Damen, raking its claws up the man’s broad back. Damen ducked as they snapped shut, barely missing his head.
Damen roared in pain and anger as the bird flew ahead of him and he fired wildly with his rifle.
The bird curved around in a circle and used Harl as a shield, forcing Damen to hold fire as it flew behind him.
Damen slumped in pain and his drone dipped t
owards the sea of green as Harl rose above him.
Harl knew it was madness but Damen had stuck with him so long he couldn’t watch him torn to shreds. He tensed and leant back, slowing so Damen drew ahead. As the bird soared in behind Damen Harl waited until he was over the feathery mass and in a moment of madness, he jumped.
The drone dropped away from his feet as he aimed for the mass of brown feathers. The was no way he could really aim himself. It was like tossing a rock off a high bridge and aiming for a specific ripple. A sense of vertigo washed over him then his hand brushed into feathers, sliding up his arms. He grabbed a central shaft of the feathers, clenching his fingers around it and held on for dear life. The bird twisted, pulled down to one side. Its deadly talons swiped passed Damen, ripping clothing but leaving Damen on top of his flyer.
Harl remembered the rifle on it’s sling around his shoulder and attempted to grab it. As his arm pulled away he felt the air-drag take effect and his remaining hand slipped down the feather shaft. Shifting his weight, he forgot the weapon. A grip was better than falling. Damen was lining up behind through the tail feathers aiming his rifle.
‘No!’ Harl cried too late.
Feathers burst around Harl and blood splattered his face as the smell of burnt feathers assaulted his nostrils. He felt gravity spiral him and the dying bird to the ground.
‘Idiot.’
Chapter 27
The soldiers have mustered under the edge of the airdome but there’s no sign of the giant. Maybe it walked passed without noticing the dropships. The captains and the commander have chosen to stay for the short term. But it seems another agenda is at play.
Branches cracked around Harl, slowing the rocketing decent into the crop. The bird was underneath him, its body absorbing most of the impacts but still twigs and foliage whipped his face and back as he tucked himself close to the feathery mass. An impact with a thick branch jarred the bird, throwing him over its head. He hit the dusty floor rolling until he kicked up a plume of arid dirt that settled over him as he stared up in a daze at the coiling mass of green branches above.
His body was wracked with aches. He rolled on to his front. He needed to signal the others to find him but from above the field was a sea of similarities with no prominent features or markings.
He stood and looked at the crumpled heap of feathers that was the bird. It must have evolved to fly so well. The only thing else he knew with wings had been a chicken and this monster was certainly not of that ilk. It had been sleek and aerodynamic unlike the chickens he’d once known. How many other creatures were similar? He couldn’t imagine them living in the confines of a tank, hitting the see through walls would surely break their necks.
Scanning the tangleweed above he searched for a partial clearing and found one where he and the bird had broken the thin boughs as they plummeted through.
A twig snapped to his left. He whipped around and peered into the dense foliage. A young boy was standing stock-still, watching him. The lad was naked except for a cloak of small feathers tied around his neck. He stared at Harl in amazement, mouth wide open, a long straight stick held in one hand.
‘Hello,’ Harl said, ‘I’m Harl.’
The boy cocked his head. ‘Myag I‘l desant?’
Harl couldn’t understand a word. He shrugged and yelled up at the hole hoping someone would hear him.
The kid didn’t seem troubled and as Harl shouted up. Instead the boy yelled incoherent words up at the gap imitating him.
Harl stopped, resting his voice for a moment and beckoned the kid over. The boy edged closer but panicked when a whirring drone buzzed overhead and he ducked throwing his hands over his head
‘Hey,’ Harl said, waving his arms around. ‘Down here.’
The boy watched as Harl danced around, and understanding dawned on the young face.
‘Dammit,’ Harl said, kicking a stone at his failure to draw their attention. He knew from above the field must look identical in every direction.
The boy was staying close and Harl held out his hand for the stick. The lad handed it over and Harl tugged loose his knife, making the child step back.
‘Not going to hurt you,’ Harl said, sliding the blade up the tip taking out a small chunk. Rotating the pole he chipped the blunt end into a sharp spike something the boy could only do on a rock and handed it back.
It was the worst tool he’d ever made but the child smiled taking the stick and flailing it in triumph, jumping around between the low branches just above the floor. He stopped in front of a plant base and began climbing, hopping from branch to branch getting closer to the hole above with each swing.
Harl watched him disappear up the thinnest limbs, little more than twigs and bending under his weight. The lad swung down quicker than a squirrel and it took Harl a moment to realise he was completely naked now, the cloak had vanished.
He beamed at Harl, grinning as if he’d done the strange clothed man a huge favour. The sweet sound of drones hummed above and relief washed over Harl as Dana and Troy zipped in through the hole. The boy ran off, clambering up into the foliage as soon as the noise grew loud.
Troy dug the front of his flyer into the ground and stumbled off. He smiled at Harl as Dana stepped easily down.
‘Saw the feathers,’ he said. ‘Did you kill it?’
‘I think so,’ Harl said, ‘or at least Damen did. But the feathers you saw were from a cloak-’
Dana’s head twitched. She dropped her drone and rolled on the floor, coming up smoothly with a knife, casting it into the shrubs nearby.
‘No,’ Harl said as a crying scream echoed from the bushes.
The boy staggered out and fell to the ground. The knife had impaled the boy’s scrawny should and the tip jutted through the skin on his shoulder blade as the boy curled on the dusty floor, whimpering in agony. Blood seeped from the wound but the blade was in tight.
‘Dammit Dana.’ Harl said, rounding on her. ‘You always have to shoot fir-’ He stopped, expecting her usual shrug as if to say it was the boys problem, instead he saw regret and tears in her eyes.
She spun, kicking up dust and ran to her flyer. In one movement she scooped it up, jumped on it and flew high up through the hole.
‘What the-?’ Harl said.
Troy shrugged, ‘beats me,’ he said. ‘Better get this out.’ Troy helped the boy up, put a hand on his shoulder and gripped the blade with the other. The boy tensed and his hands trembled as he shut his eyes tight.
‘Easy lad,’ Troy said, ‘this might tickle a bit.’
A buzz came from above as Dana led Tess and Kane down through the gap.
‘Wait!’ Tess called.
She skipped off the machine and crouched by the boy, setting her bag down. She pressed lightly on his back feeling for something as her voice soothed the child.
‘Kane,’ she said, ‘pass me some cloth from the bag.’
Kane fished a partially clean rag out and handed it to her as she drew a needle from a small pouch on her waist and gently eased the tip into the sallow skin. The child was looking wide-eyed at them all in turn, only wincing as Tess teased the blade out.
‘There,’ she said replacing the knife with the rags and pressing the boy’s hand on the wound. She pulled a hook and thread from the satchel and stitched the wound before the numbing solution wore off.
Tess turned to Damen who’d patiently been waiting for her to finish with the boy.
‘Let me have a look at you,’ she said, peeling off the armour plates and lifting the grubby ripped jerkin to inspect his back.
Claw marks had shredded the skin in a three stripe mark diagonally downwards, soaking the top of his trousers with dark blood.
‘Don’t know what Yara would say,’ he said as Tess sat him down, ‘another woman lifting my shirt.’
‘Hey’ Kane said, ‘watch it.’
‘Or what?’ Damen asked.
‘Sit still,’ Tess said making him wince as she gripped harder, holding the big man in place.
‘Quiet, all of you,’ Harl said. Something had the boy’s attention. He was staring at the deep bush, ignoring the knitted wound in his shoulder.
‘He started it-,’ Kane said.
‘Shh,’ Damen said, making Tess curse as he stood up and pointed his rifle to the wall of tangleweed.
The boy took off running towards the dense clump. Damen lowered his rifle as the boy passed in front. Ululations echoed down from the tangleweed as men jumped and swung from branch to branch, closing in on them.
‘Time to go,’ Harl said.
‘On what?’ Troy said, holding his drone. ‘I couldn’t find yours.’
Damen fired his rifle and the wild men froze, keeping their distance from the unknown blue light as it smouldered on a branch of tangleweed.
‘Idiot‘ Harl cursed drawing a harsh glance from the bearded man. ‘Not you,’ he said remembering what Ulane had shown him. He tapped the bracelet and selected the drone number he’d been on then pressed recall. A moment later the drone navigated the myriad of branches making the fieldmen jump aside and hovered beside him.
Harl soared up as the fieldmen clambered across the branches to the top. They stretched out dirt-covered hands to grab and pull them from the flyers. One leapt from the highest stalk and only a swift jerk reaction from Dana stopped the man pouncing down on her. She watched him tumble with the casual grin of a job well done.
Harl turned on the bracelet’s navigation and led the group over the dense expanse of green crops.
Eventually the vegetation gave way to a wide death strip. The smell that had lingered over the tangle weed was of fresh growing plants but above the dark lifeless soil a foul odour pervaded the air.
‘There,’ Troy said, spotting a grey cluster far off on the horizon.
‘Push on,’ Harl said. ‘This smell is making me nauseous.’
It was some time before it became clear but a distant fuzzy haze became solid as buildings emerged from the blur.
