Robinson Crusoe 2244

by E. J. Robinson

  Three more prisoners were hauled out of the cages. They were so thoroughly traumatized that the savages did not even bother tying them up. One was given a spear. Another a bow and arrow. The third ran for a sword on the ground just as his wrist was caught in the claws of a render’s foot. The man screamed as others closed in. His companion tried to string the bow but fumbled it. A second later, he paid for the mistake with his life.

  As Robinson neared the ship, he dipped into the water, swimming beneath the gangplank as feet stomped overhead. The cages were strung along the waterside, the girl’s cage closest to him. From this distance, he was able to see her more closely. One eye was swollen shut and blood coursed down the side of her face. But she wasn’t wallowing in fear or getting caught up in the spectacle. She was biting the leather bonds wrapped around her wrists.

  Near the monolith, one prisoner was putting up a good fight, fending off two renders with a spear. Tears spilled down his cheeks, but he never cried out. When he managed to stab one of the beasts through the neck, the savages cheered. Savage Chief forced the other render on him, hoping for even more excitement.

  That’s when Robinson made his move.

  The girl spun in shock when he hit the cage from behind. She must have thought a demon had come for her the way he’d slunk out of the river, white eyes on a body that was as slick and as dark as night. He put a finger to his mouth just as a savage grabbed an older female prisoner from another cage and dragged her away.

  Once he was gone, the girl turned back to Robinson, but he was already trying to cut the straps from her cage. Unfortunately, the punch he was using was blunt. He cursed his luck for losing the Old Man’s knife those weeks before.

  “Quem ni?” the girl spoke, her voice raspy but clear.

  Robinson motioned for her to be quiet. He went back to work on the straps, this time stabbing them with the tool. The girl shook her head and thrust her hand through the bars.

  “Diasa,” she hissed. “Di-a-sa!”

  He handed her the punch. She slid it through the leather straps, holding the lock in place. She rotated it until the leather groaned. Another cry pierced the night. At the monolith, the two remaining prisoners stood back to back, both gravely wounded. The head of one had already begun to dip. It wouldn’t be long before he fell, followed by his companion. When that happened, Savage Chief would signal for more prisoners to sacrifice.

  Robinson nodded for her to hurry and she motioned for help. He crept to the front of the cage, keeping low to avoid attracting those on the ship. He reached in and pushed the top of the punch as she pulled from the bottom. The leather bindings stretched and then snapped. The lock fell into the grass and the door cracked open. He waved her toward the water, but when he glanced back, she was heading for the other cages.

  “No!” he hissed. “They’ll see you!” But the drums drowned out his words.

  A young, muscular savage with human skulls capping both shoulders stood in front of the cage. When the last prisoner at the monolith buckled, he cheered and swung his dagger as if he were caught in the throes of battle. Behind him, the girl stalked closer. Unfortunately, the other prisoners couldn’t contain themselves and one cried out. The savage turned, but before he could raise a weapon, the girl was on him, plunging the punch deep into his neck and catching his body as he fell.

  Robinson thought the deadly act had gone unseen, but then he heard a shout from above as one of the savages on the bow pointed frantically in her direction.

  In an instant, all eyes turned toward them and the drums went silent. The savages were confused, too preoccupied by the curtain of renders to immediately process what was happening. But then Savage Chief burst through the fray. When he saw the girl, a murderous rage filled his eyes. He pointed to her and yelled.

  “Run!” someone screamed and then Robinson realized that the voice was his own.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The White Building

  The savages let out a blood-curdling roar, pursuing them with weapons poised. Robinson’s watery escape was now cut off, so he headed for a narrow channel between the ship and the easternmost bonfire. Just as he was passing the gangplank, he saw a dozen of those clay pots stacked on the ground. He scooped up two mid-run, flinging the first one at the savage leading the charge from the monolith. The pot hit the man flush in the chest and disintegrated instantly, the liquid blinding him. But it was the collateral spray, catching the edge of the bonfire, that turned him into a whirlwind of fire.

  A swarm of savages also spewed from the ship, some holding large drum sticks the size of hammers. As the girl caught up with him, Robinson threw the remaining clay pot at the ground and a wall of fire went up, momentarily blocking their pursuers.

  He signaled the girl to follow him toward the memorial, but a second later, he felt something whistle by his ear. It was an arrow. It was not alone. Several more zipped into the grass, prompting them to turn toward the city.

  “This way!” he called, directing her back toward the park’s center. He ran faster than he had ever run before, but that didn’t stop the girl from flying by him. Her body was lean, her gait effortless. Running was something she had done her entire life.

  While the drums had been silenced, the savages’ cries had not. Their bloodthirsty shouts were a constant reminder of what would happen if they fell. A brief glimpse back revealed a dozen warriors breaking through the shroud of trees as they sped over a street and into the northern park. There, they broke right, skirting around the edge of a small pond toward the nearest building, when renders appeared out of nowhere.

  Robinson jerked to evade the creatures, but the girl pulled him back. He didn’t understand why until he heard the screams of the savages that had followed them straight into the pack. More savages stopped to kill the beasts before resuming the hunt.

  But the girl started to fade. In the full light of the moon, Robinson could see captivity had wrecked her. Her eyes were sunken from lack of sleep and her lips were cracked from dehydration. She gasped for breath. He had hoped to lead the savages into the city where only he would be familiar with the territory, but the girl was not up for it. And for some reason, the savages seemed intent on not letting her go. So he led her toward the building he had long stayed away from: the white building at the top of the park.

  They ran through the crumpled wrought iron fence and crossed the graveyard of carriages until they reached the building itself. The door he’d gone through weeks before was still half open, the booby trap unrepaired. That gave him some reassurance that whomever had set it was no longer there.

  Unfortunately, the smell of renders was still acute. Looking back, Robinson saw the torches of the savages closing in. It was too late to run elsewhere. His only hope was that if any creatures still lived inside, the drums had drawn them out earlier in the night.

  The first floor was cavernous and dark with a number of rooms and partitions. Robinson pulled the girl into the third room as the savages entered behind them.

  The room was full of broken furniture, but the wall to their right glistened as moonlight was reflected off a wall of dishes. Robinson turned for a second door, but the girl stopped him and pulled him behind an overturned table in the corner of the room.

  Both sat mutely behind the table, listening as the men stalked through the building. Briefly, Robinson thought their pursuers might pass them by, but then light filled the room as a man bearing a torch entered. His pulse pounded in his ears. He looked at the girl, expecting to see fear etched on her face, but she was composed, her good eye steady. In her hands were two pieces of broken china, poised like weapons.

  As carefully as he could, Robinson peeked around the table. The savage wore leather pants and no shirt, but had a string of something around his neck that looked like teeth. His chest was thick and riddled with those odd tattoos, extending from the bottom of his ribcage to the top of his throat. His face was painted white and his hair was shaved, save for a single tail on top.

&nbs
p; The savage turned for the open door, a massive cudgel in his hands. He poked it open, but just as he was about to enter, Robinson’s leg twitched, and the table shifted. He winced. The girl’s face was bridled with fury, but then she nodded toward a broken table leg near his feet. He grabbed it.

  The shadow stood still. Then the door slowly closed. Robinson looked at the girl. She nodded for him to be ready. The savage’s breath grew steadily louder as he approached. Robinson watched his shadow approach, the smell of sweat and blood stifling. He tensed his muscles, ready to spring, when a voice called from the corridor.

  The savage hesitated for what felt like forever. Then he turned and stalked away. The pair breathed sighs of relief, but both knew they wouldn’t be safe there for long. They scuttled to the adjacent room, a private office, before reaching for the hallway door.

  The hallway was clear, but the moment they exited, they saw more silhouettes approaching from outside. Down the corridor, the overturning of furniture could be heard. Above the far door, Robinson saw an old camera pointing directly at them and for a second, it felt like they were being watched. But he knew it was paranoia. These buildings had been powerless for centuries.

  The girl nodded to some stairs across the hallway and they hastened, passing underneath the solemn eyes of a suited man in a portrait.

  The corridor of the second floor was even gloomier than the first, but movement below spurred them on. They passed something marked “Treaty Room,” and turned right into another large hall. The smell in that hallway was acrid and pungent, far worse than any render’s scent Robinson had experienced before. He couldn’t imagine any creature capable of emitting such an odor, but if one existed, he didn’t want to meet it.

  A set of double doors was open to their left, revealing a large oval room with yellow walls and curtains stained black. There was no place to hide inside. So they turned right instead, straight into the mouth of the abyss.

  It was trimmed in gold with doors that had been rent apart. Several cables ran from the roof down through the open cavern and into the darkness. This was where the terrible smell was stemming from. Robinson urged the girl to go back. Before he turned, however, he thought he saw something move.

  The girl shoved him out of the way just as a savage’s axe struck the wall. Although she was unarmed, she moved with ease, punching him in the throat and ripping his weapon from his hands. More savages arrived, but the girl spun with unexplainable precision and staved the first savage’s head. Robinson yelled for her to run, but she refused.

  The girl stood her ground, fighting off her attackers, but she was outnumbered. Just as one of the savages stripped her of the axe and readied his killing blow, a large, mutated tentacle exploded out of the shaft and took hold of him. The savage howled as it was pulled into the abyss, his fellow savages swarming after him. But as more tentacles appeared, covered in blood, Robinson grabbed the girl and dragged her into the room adjacent the oval one. It was a study full of books, chairs, and couches. Beyond were two glass doors and a balcony outside.

  “Here!” Robinson yelled, breathless, not knowing how long the creature from the elevator would distract the savages.

  The door opened to the sound of fighting on the front grounds as savages battled the renders that had followed them from the park. When the last two were dispatched, Savage Chief ordered his men inside.

  When the girl saw Savage Chief, something in her face turned primal. It went beyond hatred. Robinson watched as she squatted down to pick up a large sliver of windowpane glass to use as a weapon.

  “Don’t,” Robinson said, grabbing her arm. Quicker than he thought possible, the glass was at his throat.

  “Nao pengchu,” she hissed.

  He slowly raised his hands.

  Behind them they heard voices. Below, two savages carried out a third, dropping him at Savage Chief’s feet. He had several large wounds in his chest. Savage Chief used his spear to turn the man over, revealing a grisly bite mark on his back. The man pleaded, but they both knew he was infected. In a flash, Savage Chief raised his spear and killed him. Then he howled for the gawkers to return inside.

  Before another word could be spoken, the girl vaulted the railing.

  The chief must have heard something, because he turned just as she plowed into him. Both hit the ground hard and even from up high, Robinson heard something crack. When the chief rose, his hand went to his head, finding a deep gouge that spilled blood from his ear to his chin.

  Despite the excruciating pain he must have felt, Savage Chief sneered. The girl responded by springing to her feet, but then she lurched. Her leg was injured. Chief mocked her, but before he attacked, he tossed her the sword from the savage he’d just killed. She picked it up and they began circling each other.

  The girl was a fighter, but Robinson knew she had no chance. He was about to call out in the hope of distracting Chief when he heard voices behind him. Torchlight filled the room. It was only a matter of time until they found him.

  On the ground, the girl lashed out with her sword, but Chief easily batted it away. He spun his spear, using long, balanced attacks to toy with her. Only when she stood again did he strike out, slamming the spear into her shoulder, and then her back, followed by the knee of her good leg. With the last strike, she finally went down, but when Chief raised his spear for the killing blow, she spun out of the way and swung the sword at his front foot. He barely lifted it in time.

  Chief continued to stalk his prey, but even she knew she couldn’t hold him off for long. The frustration showed first on her face and then in her attacks. Each successive strike looked more and more desperate.

  Robinson knew he had to do something. Looking around, the only potential weapon he could see was a small pipe fitted to a security camera pointed right at him. He leaped up, grabbed hold of it, and pulled with all his might. The crack echoed loudly as he dropped to his feet. Inside the room, the savages approached the doors. It was now or never.

  The girl made one final effort to kill the chief, but he easily dodged her attack and knocked the blade from her hands. The following strike hit her on the side of the head and sent her reeling. Bloodied and dazed, the girl reached for the sword. Chief must have been impressed by her courage, because the words he spoke were soft. Then he raised the spear to finish her off.

  The pipe collided with his shoulder just as Robinson slammed into him. The chief went sprawling. The balcony doors above were blown open with a crash as the savages appeared. When they saw the chief down, they howled, and several raced back inside. Robinson knew it would take a few seconds for them to emerge below.

  Robinson grabbed the girl under the arm and tried to pull her away. Though bloodied and dazed, she was still intent on finishing off Savage Chief.

  “We have to go!” Robinson screamed. This time the girl didn’t have the strength to fend him off.

  As they pulled away, Robinson heard a guttural snarl and looked back, surprised to see Chief rise to one knee. His eyes were glassy, but they found them in the dark. When he spoke, blood spewed from his mouth. But to his surprise, the threats were not directed at Robinson but at the girl.

  “Nuer Aserra, gui seiva divida wo me.”

  These words almost buckled the girl, but Robinson had no time to contemplate their meaning. The other savages were coming, so he helped her turn as they fled into the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Strangers

  The trek back to the memorial took even longer than anticipated. The savages were scouring the city. Those they had fled from at the white building had met up with reinforcements. Despite his injuries, Savage Chief had rallied well enough to organize several small parties to cover as much of the city as possible.

  Equally concerning were the renders; they had been worked into a frenzy. Denied their monthly feast, they too were looking for any spot of flesh to dine on. Time and again, Robinson and the girl heard clashes between the two forces. They kept moving.

  At one time
, he considered returning to the library, but it was too far to the southeast. He also knew the girl needed medical aid and as limited as his abilities were, he had far more resources available at the memorial than anywhere else.

  So they clung to the city streets, avoiding darkened buildings and alleyways while doing their best to cling to the shadows. The girl was exhausted and several times, she nearly collapsed. But she trudged on, never once crying out or signaling for rest.

  For Robinson’s part, the distraction of caring for someone else was a welcome change. He was surprised by his own resilience, relying often on his cloak of oil to throw renders off the scent.

  Just when they thought they might have evaded the savages, they heard dogs baying. The girl’s former captors were pulling out all the stops to find her. But for as much as those high-pitched cries haunted them, the renders also heard them. They came out en mass to eventually drive the savages back. When the drums started up again, their tempo had changed. Several mobs of savages flew past the duo as they hid in a doorway to a shop. A retreat had been signaled. This allowed a narrow window for the duo to return to the arcade by way of an underground furrow made of black marble stenciled with names. Once on the other side, it was a straight shot back to the memorial.

  The girl was reluctant to step into the basket that would lift her over the barricade, but they both knew she had no other option. She was too injured and too tired to leave now and fend for herself. At the same time, Robinson was incredibly nervous allowing someone inside his sanctuary. He had invested so much time in creating it that the thought of risking it for a veritable stranger was daunting.

  She was staring at the seated statue when Robinson secured the basket and chain before directing her toward the door. The moonlight spilled through the colored glass above, casting the ancient hero’s stern face in a golden glow.