Wodi finished his map, and Marlon stared at it and nodded occasionally.
“Okay,” he said. “We take the ferry.”
Now the others rejoined the pair, slowly, with Peter in the lead. “Ah, not so fast, son,” he said. “We took a vote a second ago and decided unanimously to skirt around the area and find a better place to cross the river.”
“That’s great,” said Marlon, without missing a beat. “Been nice traveling with you. Best of luck to you all.”
“Wait, what?” said Peter.
“I said I’ll see you dumbasses on the flip side o’ tomorrow. As for me, I’m takin’ that ferry. If you guys wanna wander around here for another day, don’t let me slow you down. As for me, I’ve got a plan and I’m goin’ home.”
“But we have to stick together!” said Peter.
“Says who? You? I don’t have to stick by anybody.” Marlon stared at Peter for a minute. The man worked his jaw up and down, then looked at those behind him.
“You all with me?” said Marlon.
Peter walked a short distance away. The others said nothing.
“Anyway,” said Marlon, “here’s the plan, if you’re interested.” He pointed to the map in the dirt.
The group hesitated, then gathered.
“Looks like the woods go all around this clearing on both sides,” said Marlon, “and the ferry is at the far end of the clearing, about in the middle.” He looked at Wodi, who nodded.
“Wonder who built the ferry?” said Saul. “Could the ghouls...?”
“Prob’ly some podunk wage slave,” said Jules. “Somebody busted their ass to build that thing, then these ghouls or some demon just chucked his ass in the river.”
“Anyway,” said Marlon, “I want us to break into groups. Each group will sneak through the woods on either side of the clearing. That way... if, in a worst case scenario, one group gets spotted, maybe the other group can still make the ferry and get across before they get spotted, too. Ghouls aren’t that tough, but thirty of ’em, armed... well, we have to be quiet.”
“How does the ferry work?” Iduna asked.
Wodi looked at her, said, “I... couldn’t see it that well. It was small, just a bunch of logs tied together, barely big enough for all of us. The bank went over most of it. I could see it was attached to a rope that went across the river, and the rope was attached to posts on either side. But...”
“Don’t worry about the particulars,” said Marlon. “Wodi, you’re going to be your own team of one. I want you to sneak ahead of my group and get close to that ferry. If there’s a problem, you come back to me, and we’ll get out of there and find another way.”
Iduna sighed heavily and shook. Jules shook his head and spat.
“Who’s on teams?” said Peter.
“You, Iduna, and Hermann,” said Marlon. “Saul and Jules with me. Any objections?”
Peter snorted.
“Okay,” said Marlon. “Let’s go about it.”
* * *
Peter, Hermann, and Iduna crept through the woods, on their bellies in slime and sharp brambles. Peter’s breathing was harsh and ragged, and he often looked behind at the others, angrily, as though they were holding him back. Even over the roar of the river Iduna could hear the shrieking of the ghouls nearby. She tried to ignore them, tried to concentrate on moving as silently as possible.
The stench of death hit her and she gagged. Marlon had warned her about the stench, but knowing that something could be alive and smell of such rot fascinated some part of her. She had to see them. She stopped and raised her head slowly.
The sight of them was like ice cast into her eyes. She saw a host of small, pale, sickly bodies running about, slapping at each other with short spears and waving flint knives. Their heads were bald and their eyes were black and coated with dried mucus. They were horribly diseased, covered in sores and patches rubbed raw. Many of them were naked, their ulcerous members displayed for all to see. They hissed at one another with mouths full of jagged, rotten, misplaced nubs. Some of them were bent over a bovine corpse, mostly skeleton and fly-covered gray meat. Her gag reflex surged and tightened once again.
She was about to turn away, then heard a violent yelp in the clearing and craned her head. She saw a large ghoul, fat and clothed in wolfskin and other strange leathers. The twisted face of the thing was covered in sores and exposed veins, and it held high a black, barbed spear. A smaller ghoul cowered beneath the leader and gripped its head. The leader whacked its head with the butt-end of the spear and gurgled happily while a few others laughed at the spectacle.
“They even hate their own kind,” she whispered.
“Human… bitch!”
Someone pulled her ear painfully. Iduna turned and saw Hermann beside her, his face twisted with hatred. She slapped him and he fell back. He looked shocked, numb with confusion.
“I’m sorry!” he whispered, shaking his head slowly. “Iduna, I… I don’t know… why…”
He covered his face and sobbed. Iduna looked once more to make sure they had not been seen, then knelt and patted the man. “Listen, we’re all under a lot of stress. Okay? We can talk about this later, but right now let’s try to keep quiet and get around these monsters.”
Hermann wiped his eyes and cast about for his spear. Iduna studied him, wondering how it was that the loss of his reliable social constructs could so easily undermine his masks and churn up shadows from his psyche that could not be kept in check without great duress. Would he find his balance? Or would Peter and Marlon be forced to do something drastic in order for the group to survive?
* * *
Marlon was grateful for the sounds of the river and the ghouls because his own team sounded as if they were clearing brush to make a bonfire. He often had to stop and wait for the others to catch up, annoyed at the look of panic on Saul’s face and Jules continually freeing his spear from the undergrowth. He looked ahead but could not see Wodi.
If it wasn’t for Wodi, he thought, I would have had to scout the area myself. He imagined the others getting into an argument, wandering away from each other, and simply disappearing into the forest without him there to beat them back into line.
While he waited for Saul and Jules to catch up, he watched the ghouls. Individually they were frail and not a serious threat. The biggest danger would be getting an infection from a bite. But there were at least thirty of them and, worst of all, their leader was somehow just as big as Marlon himself. He’d never heard about any ghouls built like that in his Guardian training courses, but he was positive that it would be impossible for his own small team to bully the ghouls if it came down to a confrontation.
Marlon turned back to the others and, as if in a nightmare, he saw something white and spidery fall from a tree and land in a bush behind Saul.
“Hell!” said Saul, startled by the noise.
The thing bounded from the undergrowth and Marlon saw that it was a ghoul, much like the others except that it bounded on all fours and had a long, sloping forehead. It darted around Saul and ran for the clearing.
“The hell was that?” Jules croaked.
“Scout!” said Marlon. “It was a scout!”
The three sat as still as statues and watched as the scout ran through the pack of ghouls, then squatted before the leader, grunted, and pointed in their direction.
“Oh, shit,” said Marlon. “Oh, shit no! Shit no!”
The fat leader bellowed in alarm, then shouted guttural commands. The ghouls in the clearing ran about, tripped over one another, and picked up their spears and knives. The leader slapped at butts and legs with his spear to beat order into the frenzied pack.
“We gotta go!” Marlon shouted. “We gotta go now!”
While the majority of the pack seemed disorganized and mostly worried that their leader was about to hit them, five ghouls broke off and gained the leader’s attention with high-pitched barking. The leader nodded and pointed to the woods in Marlon’s direction. The five eagerly took
off, grunting with spears held before them.
“Too late!” Marlon shouted. He shook Saul’s arm to wake him from his terror, then said, “We have to kill these guys or we’ll never make it! Stick together!”
“Right!” said Saul, his voice cracking. Jules looked at his spear shaking uncontrollably, then backed away.
The five ghouls crashed through the woods in a wild frenzy. Marlon braced himself, hypnotized by the thrashing white limbs and empty black eyes. He gripped his spear in one hand and his club in the other. The five drew near, Saul screamed in abject terror, then Marlon beat his spear against a slim tree trunk and shouted at the ghouls. All five bunched up and fell against one another as Marlon herded them near Saul. Saul fell on his ass but, at the last moment, raised his spear and jabbed it toward the tripping ghouls, further confusing them. Marlon raised his club and swung it into them – once, twice – then the ghouls extricated their limbs from one another and retreated as two fell to the ground, twitching and gagging. Saul screamed once more as Marlon clubbed the two ghouls until they laid still.
Marlon grabbed Saul’s shirt and hauled him to his feet. “We don’t have much time before they get organized and come back for more!” he bellowed. “Find that old man and drag his ass to the ferry! You hear me?”
“Y-yeah!” said Saul. “But what are you -”
“Just shut up and do it!” said Marlon. Saul nodded, then dropped his spear and stumbled away.
* * *
Wodi crouched on a narrow strip of mud at the edge of the river. He was covered by a high section of the bank, and could listen to the ghouls and watch the ferry safely. The others were taking a long time to sneak past the ghouls and he had plenty of time to think. The river rushed past only a few inches from his feet, and he wondered idly if it would be possible to dive in and somehow make it to the other side.
He admitted to himself that he was tempted to leave the others.
He did not consider taking the ferry for himself and leaving them behind; he shuddered at the thought because he had nothing against them. Still, he was an introvert, and he was beginning to wonder if it might actually be easier to make the journey alone. He knew that he could not confront any monsters on his own. He was too weak for that. But the arguing? The endless accusations they made against one another? Wodi knew there had to be a better way. If only he was capable of inspiring the others… but he was no leader.
Wodi’s thoughts were interrupted by harsh cries and a frenzied clamor of feet and weapons in the clearing behind him. He grasped a handful of thick grass and pulled himself up the high bank, then peeked over the edge into the clearing.
His heart pounded and he nearly lost his hold, for he saw the large ghoul directing all the others and pointing to the woods. They knew! They knew about the others! Wodi saw five ghouls dash into the woods and he knew it was the beginning of the end. His friends would be hounded and either killed or driven off. The others would not survive if they did not have each other to depend on. Before Wodi could stop himself, he climbed over the rise and stood for all to see.
The spear was slick with sweat from his hands and his knees threatened to buckle. He took in great panic breaths and watched as the fat ghoul finally got the rest of his minions in order, then prepared to march them into the woods.
I have to distract them! he thought. I can do this!
We’re going to be killed!
No we won’t! Those ghouls are cowards, if I can keep them disorganized then it’ll give the others time to reach the ferry.
There’s too many! One misstep and they’ll all be on you!
“I won’t make any missteps,” Wodi said aloud, then forced one foot in front of the other.
Then, suddenly, there was a scream of shrill violence, a cry from a human throat, and all eyes turned to the woods.
* * *
Marlon’s battle cry rocked the clearing. He burst into the open, spear and club on either side of him. He strode forward, face red and breath superheated, eyes on fire and footfalls steady as death. The ghouls glared at him, raised their weapons slowly, and the fat one called out.
The large ghoul bit his lip and spat out blood. As the three runners clustered at his feet, mewling and pleading forgiveness, he lashed out with a series of kicks and ear-splitting squawks. He grunted and pointed to either side of Marlon. The ghouls divided, bodies bent low and teeth chattering as they moved to surround him.
“You’re not sticking to the plan,” said Wodi, smiling from the high bank. Now some ghouls turned to him, alarmed.
“Get on that god damn ferry,” said Marlon, through gritted teeth.
“I will when you do,” the boy said, then raised his spear.
At nearly the same time Peter and his teammates ran along the bank from one side of the woods while Saul ran from the other. The ghouls craned their heads on all sides. Marlon felt the opportunity surge, and with another cry he ran at the ghouls on one side, swung his club in a vicious arc, and smashed it into the face of a ghoul that tumbled into some of its brothers. The ghouls behind Marlon dashed forward and he swung around, keeping them at bay with the point of his spear. As he swung around to stop another group from attacking his back, one brave ghoul climbed atop another and leaped at him; Marlon swung his club upwards into the ghoul’s path, smashed the thing’s jaw and drove shattered teeth into its brain. Marlon turned about wildly, holding back the waves of howling, slobbering ghouls.
Peter fell into the shallows and hauled himself onto the ferry. While Iduna dragged Hermann onboard, Peter studied the ferry. It was a simple construct of logs and rope with a post in the middle; a length of thick rope stretched between two poles on either side of river and went through a hoop in the ferry’s post so that it could be pulled from one side to the other. A second rope kept the ferry tied to the pole on the nearby bank. Peter set about untying this rope, hands shaking uncontrollably.
Soon Saul stumbled onboard, wild-eyed and fear-crazed.
“Why are you alone?” Peter shouted.
“Marlon, he’s –”
“I can see what Marlon’s doing, nitwit! Where’s the old man?”
Saul stuttered in the throes of idiotic glossolalia and Peter only vaguely understood that Saul had somehow lost track of Jules. Before he could reprimand the boy, Iduna shouted, “What are you doing with that rope? Use your spear to loosen it up, if you have to!”
“I don’t take orders from you!” Peter shrieked like a madman, hands twitching on the uncooperative knot.
Wodi watched the battle and was unsure how to help a raging giant against so many. Over and over the pack would retreat from Marlon’s front and surge towards his back; over and over Marlon turned, pointed his spear, cried out. He was a force to be reckoned with but could not last forever. Suddenly Wodi saw one ghoul crouch and dart ahead of the others, his knife held low in both hands. Wodi knew that if it stabbed Marlon’s back, he would falter and the entire pack would bring him down. Without thinking Wodi ran into the whirlwind of stinking bodies, his eyes locked onto the runner. He felt time slow down, felt his body taking into account every detail of the scene. He raised the spear of the torturer. The ghoul stood before him, frozen in space, then Wodi forced all of his strength into one small point –
He jammed the spear into the ghoul’s mouth, slicing through tongue and jawbone with a hideous crunch. Time moved once again and Wodi felt the white bodies dancing and heard them shrieking all around him. Wodi held onto the spear as the ghoul jerked about, spitting black blood, head shaking like mad; as Wodi turned about with his dance partner, he felt his soul come alight, a terrible fire burning in every limb.
I’ve killed him! Wodi thought. I’ve done it! I am a god of death! I am a god of destruction!
With a terrible cry Wodi jerked the spear free and sent the thrashing ghoul tumbling into the dirt. Marlon shouted something incoherent and the two formed up back-to-back, weapons extended, turning about crab-like so that the furious pack could not overwhelm them. Wod
i felt no fear. His eyes burned into the barking, misshapen faces.
Marlon glanced at the leader in the distance. The large ghoul hefted his heavy black spear for a killing throw. Marlon shifted his weight and threw his own spear; stumbling to avoid it, the leader tossed his own spear wide of the mark, sending several ghouls scampering away.
Seeing that the pack’s rhythm was thrown off, Marlon shouted, “Haul ass, kid!” He tore through the crowd, swinging his club and sending limp bodies flying through the air with broken skulls and shattered torsos. So great were Marlon’s blows that black blood splashed onto Wodi, baptizing him into a world of pain and noise and the burning lungs that are the bride of battle. Several ghouls retreated and shrieked at the leader, who kicked and pointed back at the retreating humans.
[Demonworld #1] Demonworld Page 8
