“I’ll do my best.”
“I know. How’s Harper?”
“He’s in a lot of pain. Don’t tell my mother, but Mr. Ross has been giving him sips from a flask of spirits that he had.”
“I’m going to check on him.”
“I think he finally managed to get to sleep.”
“I’ll be careful not to wake him.”
Keltin found Harper lying on the narrow floor of the wagonette between the two benches positioned over the wheels and facing each other. Sitting on one of the benches, Keltin looked down at the newspaperman. His dressings were soiled, though most of the bleeding seemed to have stopped for the time being. The hardest thing to see was the dark, dried blood on the strip of cloth tied over his left eye. Keltin was certain that even if Harper survived the rest of their journey, his eye was lost.
Keltin was just getting up to leave when Harper’s good eye opened. He stared at the sky with an unfocused gaze for a moment before turning to Keltin.
“I’m sorry,” said Keltin. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
Harper’s voice was barely more than a whisper. Keltin leaned down to hear him better. “How’s the pain?”
“Like a soul in hell.” Harper fixed Keltin was a somber gaze. “How did my eye look?”
Keltin hesitated. Harper feebly waved his hand.
“Don’t bother trying to lie. We both know you’re no good at it. Listen, I know you’re all driving the horses slower than you could because of me. Don’t bother. You need to get out of this plaguing forest. And if you need to leave me behind—”
“Don’t talk rot,” said Keltin. “We’re not leaving you.”
“I’d rather die knowing that it helped keep the rest of you safe.”
“Well it wouldn’t. We’re traveling as fast as we can right now, and you’re not doing anything but taking up some space in the wagonette. Leaving you behind wouldn’t accomplish anything but getting you killed and upsetting Wendi and the boys.”
Harper blinked his good eye in shock at the blunt words. Keltin gave him the ghost of a smile.
“Remember, I’m a bad liar, so you know it’s all true. Just hold on until we get to Krendaria. Then we can work together to come up with some embellished story about how you nobly saved us all at great personal risk.”
Harper made a sound between a chuckle and a groan as he gave a tight-lipped smiled.
“You just worry about the sleevaks, Mr. Moore, and let me handle the embellished stories.”
“It’s a deal.”
Harper sucked in air through his teeth as a spasm of pain hit him. He let it pass, then opened his good eye again. When he spoke, his voice was even softer than before.
“Tell the truth, Keltin. Do you think we’ll make it out of this forest?”
Keltin looked up at the rest of the company, somewhere between sleeping on their feet and keeping an eye on the trees. He looked back at Harper.
“We’re in the middle of a twisted fete, I can’t deny that. But Wulp said that it was only two days’ journey through Pike Forest. We’re almost through. We just have to keep pushing. With luck, we’ll be on the other side of the fence before sundown.”
* * *
Keltin stumbled and quietly cursed himself. It was getting dark, and they still hadn’t reached the end of the forest. Worse, they were all desperately tired. Mrs. Destov and her sons had gotten back onto the wagonette more than an hour before, and Elaine had followed soon after. Even Ross had given up, climbing onto the driver’s seat to take the reins and allow Wendi to rest her head on his shoulder, leaving just Kuff to trail along behind the carriage at Keltin’s side. Keltin trudged stubbornly on, but he had to admit that he was losing steam. His eyes kept drifting to the forest floor instead of the shadowed trees around them, and his feet kept dragging and catching on branches and roots.
“Keltin?”
Keltin looked up with a start without realizing that he had been staring at the ground again. Elaine was sitting in the back of the wagonette, watching him with clear concern.
“Why don’t you take a turn riding with us? You’re the only one who hasn’t yet.”
“I’ll be all right. I’m used to walking.”
Elaine fixed Keltin with a plaintive expression.
“Keltin, please, you need to rest, if only for a moment. We need you.”
Keltin sighed. “All right. But only so that I can keep watch from the wagonette, and only until I’m rested.”
Elaine opened the backdoor and reached down to help Keltin jump up into the moving carriage. He turned around, trying to find a spot for himself in the cramped conditions. Harper lay on the floor between the two bench seats while Elaine and her family sat above him, all of them keeping their feet up on the seats to avoid stepping on the poor injured man below them. Keltin carefully stepped over Harper to sit on the left-side bench seat next to Col with Elaine sitting opposite him. He admitted to himself that it felt incredibly good to be off his feet as he set his pack down next to him. He set down the Ripper and was about to rest his rifle next to it when something occurred to him.
“How many shots do you have left in that pistol?” he whispered across to Elaine.
“Just one.”
“Here.”
Keltin handed her his rifle.
“Don’t you need it?”
“I have this,” he said, pulling his hand-cannon from its holster. “Besides, you’re the only one here besides me that’s used my rifle before. Do you remember how to work the chamber?”
“I think so. What do you have it loaded with?”
“Two Spinners, two Haurizer Smashers, and a belferin acid round. You may want to go all Smashers though. If anything attacks us, it’ll likely be coming straight towards you, and that bony head-frill will cover most of the vitals.”
“Will a Smasher round break through the bones of its skull?”
“Maybe, if you hit the right spot. Don’t worry about it though. Just aim for the head. Even if it doesn’t penetrate the skull, the impact of the Smasher should stun it enough for us to get away from it as long as we keep moving.”
“All right. I’ll do that.”
Keltin reached into his pocket and handed her his last box of Haurizer Smashers. Popping open the chamber of his hand cannon, he considered briefly what to load it with. After a moment’s thought, he went with a combination of Reltac Spinners and Capshire Shatter Rounds. Clicking the chamber back into place, he turned to watch the shadows of trees drifting by.
The rain and wind had finally died off, leaving a sky filled with the tattered remnants of clouds and winking stars. The silver light of a three-quarter moon painted everything in shades of gray and black, with no color at all beyond the golden warmth from the lanterns. Keltin blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to discern between actual movement and the hallucinations of his exhausted mind. His thoughts drifted, meandering from the feel of the cushioned seats to the blood seeping from Harper’s wounds to the smell of Wendi’s cooking. Everything blurred together in a jostled, disturbing haze as the carriage bumped and rumbled through the night.
Keltin found himself somewhere between dreaming and imagining, struggling to tell the difference between what was real and what wasn’t. Twice, he decided that he needed to get back up and start walking again, just to shake the heavy malaise upon him. Both times, he only gradually realized that he hadn’t moved from his spot on the bench. He thought he heard voices too. Whispered conversations between Wendi and Ross, then Elaine and one of her brothers. He couldn’t tell which one. There was only the sound of voices, no discernable words or phrases that he could pick out.
“There!”
The voice was Col’s. Keltin felt himself nod in pleased satisfaction for identifying it, followed by annoyance when the voice came again.
“There! Right there! Look!”
A gunshot rang out in the night. Keltin came awake gasping for air to fuel his drowsy mind. He o
pened his eyes and looked around frantically, trying to make sense of what was happening. Elaine was braced against the railing on her side of the carriage, firing his rifle into the night. Col was up and pointing by her side, his hunting knife bare in his hand, as Wendi struggled to turn Harper’s rifle around from where she’d had it propped against the seat. Suddenly she screamed as a sleevak appeared out of the darkness and threw itself onto one of the horses. The terrified animal screeched and reared up in the harness, causing the carriage to veer violently to the side. Keltin tried to aim for the beast on the horse but was unable to get a clear shot. Ross tossed the reins in Wendi’s direction and blasted the sleevak clinging to the horse with his scattergun. Unfortunately, Wendi hadn’t realized that Ross had tried to give her the reins as they fell down out of reach. With no driver, the two terrified horses bolted, sending the carriage careening through the forest at a reckless speed.
Keltin tried to make his way to the front of the wagonette to help, but was blocked by the Destovs all standing up in the center of the carriage bed, trying to stay away from the sides without standing on top of Harper. In a desperate attempt to get around them, Keltin jumped up onto the left side bench. He struggled to keep his balance as the carriage bumped and swayed on the winding trail, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other to inch his way forward.
“Mr. Moore! There!”
Keltin turned to where Col was pointing and saw a sleevak launch itself up and cling to the railing on his side of the coach. Keltin fired a blast from the hand cannon into the beast’s face. The creature’s skull bulged out as the Capshire Shatter Round blew apart the monster’s brain, knocking it backwards and leaving it somewhere behind the carriage. The wagonette gave another sudden lurch. Keltin felt his balance give way and instinctively took a step forward to steady himself, but instead of the firm running board around the outer edge, he encountered only air. For a moment he was weightless, then he felt his left side collide with the wagonette and suddenly he was on the ground. He immediately rolled and started to stand when a stabbing pain erupted from his ankle. He crashed back down to earth and realized that he had hurt himself badly in the tumble.
Looking up, he saw that the red tinted trailing lights of the carriage’s twin lanterns were already quickly fading from view. He called out, but in a moment they were gone, leaving Keltin alone in the dark night. Nearby he heard the sound of sleevaks. Clutching his hand-cannon, he forced himself into a sitting position and tried to force his eyes to adjust to the gloom. He was able to make out the dim outlines of trees and bushes, but nothing more.
Something struck him from behind. Keltin fell forward and instinctively covered the back of his head with his free hand as he tried to get the hand-cannon into firing position over his shoulder. The sleevak thrashed and tore at his coat, tossing Keltin around like a boxer’s practice bag. Keltin fired his pistol but the shots went wide as he felt jaws snap shut around his arm. He cried out in pain, struggling to adjust his aim before the beast’s claws found purchase in his flesh.
Suddenly the weight on top of him was gone as the pressure around his arm disappeared. Looking up from the leafy ground, Keltin saw Kuff’s silhouette striking the sleevak like a train engine, launching them both into a rolling knot of savage fighting. It was too dark for Keltin to risk a shot into the melee. He turned and began to crawl off of the trail, seeking some small measure of cover. His probing hands found an exposed root and followed it to the base of a large tree. Turning, he pushed himself against the trunk, unable to contain a cry of pain as he moved and shifted his injured ankle around to get into position. With his back against the tree, he turned back to the darkness with his revolver in his good hand, ready for whatever may come.
The sounds of fighting kept coming from Kuff and the sleevak somewhere in front of him. He could see movement, but didn’t dare fire. Keltin tried to remember the command to draw Kuff closer so that he could see better and help the hound. He was still trying to remember it when he suddenly heard a hiss from his left side. Keltin readied himself, but the beast didn’t attack him. Kuff yelped horribly as the second sleevak joined the fight.
“Kuff!” Keltin cried. “Here! Come here!”
Keltin screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to draw the hound to him so he could help, but it was useless. Even if Kuff wanted to heed his command, he wouldn’t be able to. The hound was in a desperate fight for his life. Keltin cursed the sleevaks, hurling every foul oath he could think of at the monsters to draw them to him, but nothing worked. His voice went hoarse, leaving nothing but the sound of savage fighting and Kuff’s plaintive sounds of pain and defiant barking. Eventually, the horrid noises faded into faint whimpering and mewling. One way or another, Kuff’s fight with the sleevaks was over.
“Kuff? Kuff, come here.”
Nothing stirred. Keltin leaned back against the tree. Adrenaline drained from his blood and Keltin’s body roared with pain in its absence. His leg felt like it was crushed under a boulder, while his arm and side burned like flaming pitch. The wind pulled the clouds away from the moon and revealed more of the silver-tinged forest around him. Keltin looked where Kuff had fought the sleevaks. He saw bodies. Bloody, torn, mutilated. Among them, he saw one that lay sprawled and helpless with a long feathered tail.
“Kuff!”
Keltin’s throat ached as he called out to the hound. Kuff didn’t move. Keltin tried to sit up but fell back in agony. His vision blurred for a moment, and he closed his eyes, sucking in deep breaths as he tried to gain control over his senses. Opening his eyes again, he was confronted by the sight of a sleevak up on its feet, moving slowly towards him. He couldn’t tell if the beast had been there before or had recently arrived. The light was too poor to see if it was injured. It crawled forward slowly, either from injuries or from cautiousness of the death surrounding it. The sleevak paused, seemingly surveying the scene.
Keltin lifted his hand-cannon and pulled the trigger. Click. He tried to move his free hand to his coat to find more ammunition, but his arm wasn’t working right. How badly had the sleevak injured it? There wasn’t time to consider as the beast in front of him continued slowly towards him. He dropped the hand cannon in his lap and used his good hand to fumble for his coat, but it was gone. The sleevak that had pounced on him had managed to tear the tattered, patchwork garment apart completely, leaving nothing but sleeves and shreds left on him.
Keltin reached for his hunting knife, remembering too late that he’d given it to Col. Looking up at the approaching beast, Keltin’s heart pounded heavily in his chest. He was unarmed, wounded, and totally helpless. Memories mocked him of all the times he’d had people react in awe and fear at his impressive array of weaponry. His custom-made hunting rifle, the Ripper, the hand-cannon, his Lawrie hunting knife... how proud he had felt wearing them like badges of honor, to say nothing of the...
Pocket pistol! Keltin dug in his vest pocket and felt the small shape of the tiny firearm. He drew it out, feeling like a child facing a giant with a toy. The single Haurizer Popper in the chamber had no stopping power for a beast the size of the sleevak. His only chance was a precise shot, just a single chance to hit a moving target only slightly larger than the round itself. Second eye from the left, straight to the brain.
Keltin had to improve his chances. The sleevak was only yards from him now. He took the hand cannon in his off-hand, gripping it by the chamber as he wrapped what was left of his coat around his hand and arm. He was just finishing when the sleevak lunged forward. Keltin thrust out the hand cannon towards the gapping jaws. The gun and his hand disappeared between the fangs as the sturdy steel propped the jaws open. The man-sized creature threw itself upon him, and Keltin used all his remaining strength to wrestle the pocket pistol into position. Directly in front of the eye. One of the claws caught his thigh and tore downwards. He pulled the trigger even as he screamed.
The report of the pocket pistol was lost in the screams and cries of Keltin and the sleevak. He reached d
own for the foreleg clawing his leg and pulled it up and away. He struggled and pushed against the beast, trying to free his hand from its jaws and legs. Slowly, a realization seeped through the haze of his desperation. The sleevak wasn’t fighting back. Keltin paused. Silence and stillness. The Haurizer Popper had found its mark. Keltin collapsed back against the tree, the sleevak still on top of him. The forest grew dark, though he didn’t know if it was clouds covering the moon again or his own vision fading. A distant part of his brain told him that he must be in shock as he felt himself trembling uncontrollably. Somehow he managed to extricate his hand from the sleevak’s jaws and shoved the beast over. He smelled blood everywhere and wondered how much of it was his own. He tried to get up, but his body convulsed painfully and he sat back. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the solid tree behind him.
“Keltin!”
Forcing his eyes open again, Keltin saw Elaine racing towards him bathed in the golden light of a lantern in her hand, his rifle held firmly in the other. She threw herself on the ground next to him, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sobbed. She set aside the lantern and rifle and reached out to him, her hands fluttering with uncertainty at the sight of his injuries. Her fingers found his face, and she drew close to him.
“Are you all right?” she whispered desperately. “Tell me you’re all right.”
Keltin coughed softly and met her glistening eyes.
“I think I twisted my ankle,” he rasped.
Elaine gave him a stunned look for a moment. Then she laughed, which quickly turned back into sobbing. She drew her face just an inch away from his.
“I thought I would die without you,” she whispered, and kissed him deeply.
There was an anguished cry, and they both looked to see Wendi and Ross kneeling next to Kuff. Wendi was sobbing as Ross carefully examined his hound.
“He saved my life,” Keltin said softly. “He gave his life for me.”
Ross said something to Wendi, and they had a hurried conversation. Wendi got up and rushed to Keltin’s side as Elaine began pulling aside his clothes to examine his wounds.
Dangerous Territory Page 23
