by Carver Pike
“Hello?”
Hawks realized he was staring at her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Yes. Yes, I’m from the other side.”
“Do you miss it?”
Hawks had to think about her question for a moment. There were things he missed, like barbecue ribs, donuts, and relaxing on the couch in front of the TV, but all the people that mattered were gone. He shook his head.
“I have nothing left there,” he replied.
“So you won’t try to go back?”
“No. I deserve to be here. And even if I wanted to, I couldn’t go back. My image is dead. So I’m trapped here.”
Ayana smiled but then quickly covered it up.
“When you kissed me back there,” she said. “Why did you do that?”
Hawks glanced over at Gabe and Lisa. With the sound of the wind and the rushing water, it would be impossible to hear their conversation, but still, he wanted to make sure no one was listening.
“I kissed you,” Hawks explained, “because you gave me a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time.”
Ayana reached out and gently took Hawks’ hand.
“Will you kiss me again?” she asked. “I’ve never been kissed like that before. I liked it.”
Hawks leaned in close and grabbed the back of her head. She gasped and looked into his eyes as if waiting for him to fill her in on a secret. She nodded and he knew it was right. Her fangs, and the wetness of her tongue as she looked back at him with her mouth open, drove him wild.
She met him halfway and they crashed into each other, not at all worried about ruining a perfectly romantic kiss. This was more than romance. Hawks hadn’t been with a woman in forever, and it seemed, from the way she kissed him, that she needed him too.
Something trickled down his chin and he was sure that she’d bitten his lip, but if it was blood, he wasn’t about to wipe it away. He wasn’t going to leave her lips until she forced him to. The feel of her tongue wrapping around his made his cock throb.
He could smell a sweet aroma on her skin and her hair, and although he couldn’t quite figure out what it was, he knew he’d remember her scent forever. He pulled her in tighter with no intention to ever let go, until a jolt from below, like a missile slamming into the bottom of the boat, knocked them sideways. Their teeth clanged as they slid across the deck.
***
Gabe had just dozed off for a moment when his head smacked against Lisa’s and they were both jerked from their slumber. Vision started to cry and Vincent whined.
“Get away from the sides of the boat!” Tact yelled, losing his usual calm demeanor.
“What was that?” Gabe asked just before another strong thump against the bottom of the boat nearly knocked him off his feet.
“We’re being attacked!” Tact informed them.
Bronc shoved his way through the doors that led from below deck, armed with his rifle and hatchet.
“Stay with Emma!” Tact ordered. “I don’t know what’s below us, or how many of them are, but they definitely want on this ship!”
VOOSH!
Like a cannonball shooting up from an underwater gun, a black object sprung through the air, water following behind it like a jet stream. Gabe aimed and fired, instinctively, letting bullets loose on whatever it was headed their way.
Silently, the curled up creature began to unravel, spreading out its massive length. What started out looking like the long tendrils of a squid, soft and snake-like, suddenly stiffened and came to life, bending at the knees.
“Ranknines!” Tact yelled.
“What the f…u…c…k?” Gabe asked, stretching out the question as if giving it more time would make it answer itself.
“Ranknines!” Tact repeated. “Nine legged water beasts!”
The monster hit the deck and rose up on its two hind legs, seemingly unfazed by Gabe’s barrage of bullets. It was huge, nearly the size of a Volkswagen Bug. Six more legs stretched out, each with a claw of its own. Its face looked a little bit like a wild boar, with large teeth, a hideous snout, and big yellow eyes. What looked like rasta dreadlocks hung down from the top of its head.
“I only see eight legs!” Gabe said.
As if on cue, the ninth leg unfolded from somewhere on its back and crashed forward like a scorpion’s tale, splintering the wooden deck as Tact leapt out of the way.
Gabe raced Lisa towards the stairs that led below deck, made sure she held both babies safely in her arms, and told her to stay with Emma. Bronc pushed her down behind him.
Gabe and Bronc pointed their guns at the creature and fired nonstop as it began to make its way towards the stairs. The ninth leg crashed down at Bronc’s head. He slid down the steps just in time for its talon to swing through the air like a giant machete and plant itself in the wooden deck.
Gabe aimed at the leg and fired. The leg separated from the talon in a spray of blood as the creature wobbled backwards, then screamed and leapt over the edge of the boat.
VOOSH!
A second ranknine shot through the air, unraveling its legs much earlier than the first had. Ayana was quick, yanked an arrow from her bow, nocked it, and let it fly. The arrow slammed into the soft ball of the creature’s yellow eye. It screamed as it splashed back down into the water.
VOOSH!
A third creature shot through the air. This one landed quickly and pounced at Ayana. Hawks dipped down low and slashed out with his hunting knife, cutting off one of its legs. As the creature screamed, it slammed its ninth leg down, talon directed at Hawks’ face.
Hawks tumbled backwards and fell overboard. Ayana jumped and caught his hand. She wasn’t strong enough to hold him up, but she was quick enough to place his hand on the wooden rail.
She spun out of the way of the talon as it narrowly missed her shoulder and lodged itself in her arrow pack. She yanked herself free, nocked another arrow, and shot the beast in the snout. The arrow slammed home. The creature howled, ran, and leapt overboard, splashing back down into the water.
“These things are cowards!” Gabe yelled.
“No, just animals protecting territory!” Bronc argued.
“Help me!” Ayana screamed.
Gabe, Bronc, and Tact raced to her aid and found Hawks hanging on for dear life, his legs dangerously close to the water.
VOOSH!
From twenty yards away, a ranknine shot out of the water.
“Get me up!” Hawks yelled.
Gabe and Tact pulled with all their might, while Ayana nocked another arrow and Bronc aimed his rifle. Before either of them could start their assault, something else shot up out of the water.
Gabe couldn’t believe his eyes. A giant snakelike creature with the face of a monstrous man arched through the air. Its tongue slithered out quickly, like a giant frog’s, wrapped around one of the ranknine’s legs and yanked it into its mouth, chomping down with razor sharp teeth as the nine-legged creature howled and disappeared in the water below.
As Hawks collapsed on deck, everyone fell back and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Is it over?” Hawks asked.
“If the mers are in the water, the ranknines won’t come anywhere near the surface,” Tact said. “I think it’s over for now.”
“That was a mer?” Gabe asked.
“Yeah,” Tact replied.
“Yeah, they’re nothing like the stories we’re told on my side of the mirror.”
“Not pretty enough for you?” Tact joked as he patted Gabe on the back and climbed to his feet, brushing himself off as if what they’d just gone through was just any other stroll through the park.
The sun was starting to come up in the distance, and somehow Gabe knew they’d be safe for a little while. Bad things always seemed to stick to the dark. Not that the creatures below the black surface of the water would notice the difference topside, but at least Gabe and his friends would be able to see any other attacks that might be on their way.
Chapter 3 - Put to the Question
&nbs
p; Traven stood at the center of the gypsy camp, amidst the burned down tents and the bodies that had been thrown into those same fires. He looked around at the people his soldiers had rounded up and for a brief moment, just for a second, he felt a twinge of guilt boil up inside him.
He’d only wanted the infants. If they’d been handed to him in the first place, he wouldn’t have slaughtered the family back at the camp, and he wouldn’t have moved on to these traveling entertainers.
Or maybe he would have, he thought, as anger flashed over him once again. Maybe he would personally walk up to each gypsy and slit his fuckin’ throat. That’s how nasty Traven was. Fuck the sensitivity crap that kept overwhelming him.
He looked towards the mountains in the distance, where the sun was coming up, casting a warm glow over the land. It was the warmth of the sun that seemed to spark his feelings of sadness and guilt. He hadn’t realized it before, but it was that blinding fucking orange ball of bullshit in the sky that kept making him feel like a sissy.
He snatched a rifle out of the hand of one of his men and pointed it at the floating fluorescent bulb. He pulled the trigger and laughed. The sun didn’t flinch. It mocked him, staring right at him until Traven had to look away with watery eyes, momentarily blinded by the leftover traces of light that followed his gaze everywhere it went. He shoved the rifle against his soldier’s chest and rubbed at his eyes.
Finally, the blurred ball taunting him with each blink subsided, and he was able to see things clearly again. As he looked over the faces of the exhausted fighters he had shackled together in a long line, he could see they were strong people and even if he’d ruined their temporary homes and killed many of their friends and family members, he hadn’t broken their spirits.
He knew this meant he’d need to kill them all. If he didn’t they’d just rebuild their army, use their anger from today as fuel for the blaze, and cut a path straight back to Traven and his gang at some time in the future, so no matter what, they would need to die today.
Traven watched a naked belly dancer try to cover her breasts with her shackled hands, which only yanked the hands of her neighbors over to her chest. The struggle was somewhat amusing, and he stood watching the line of dancing hands for a moment, keeping his watchful eye mostly on the girl.
He felt himself somewhat aroused by the look of the naked dancer. Most men would say she could use a trim between her legs, but Traven liked them hairy. It was more natural that way. He decided he would make that one an offer. He’d give her the chance to live a little bit longer and ride around with him and his pals, if she’d be obedient and pleasurable. If not, he’d kill her with the rest of her clan.
He wouldn’t force himself on her though. That wasn’t his style. Plus, he was about as handsome as they come. Not a single woman had ever refused him. Not even once. Not even when they’d had other men in their lives. So chances were she wouldn’t refuse him either.
Behind Traven, a dune buggy raced into the center of camp, skidded into a half circle, and slid to a halt a few feet away. The driver and the passenger climbed out of the vehicle.
“Myny, tell me you’ve got news. Good news, preferably,” Traven ordered.
Myny scratched at his bald, scabbed head and winced, as he seemed to be considering how he should say what it was he needed to say. Traven hated being left on the edge of his seat. Patience wasn’t his strong suit.
“Umm,” Myny began, but then stopped. “Umm, no, my Lord. We found nothing. It’s as if they’ve vanished into thin air. I could see they headed into the jungle, but there weren’t any trails for us to follow.”
“You’ve been out wasting gas, driving around all damned night. And you’ve got nothing?” Traven replied.
Myny bit at his bottom lip and looked from side to side, as if he expected one of his Wraithen buddies to jump in and offer up a good excuse. No aid came.
“My apologies,” he said.
Traven turned quickly on his heels, leaving Myny to piss himself, and walked over to the long trail of gypsies. He approached a large, bearded lady at the front of the line.
“I’m at wits end with all of you. Do you see your buddies over there? The one’s burning in the fire?”
No one answered. He didn’t expect them to.
“The two atop the pile were the last to die. You see the one whose hand seems to be reaching out to you for help, with the bony, charred fingers?” Traven paused to let what he was saying sink in. “Those two said they wanted to surrender. They were more than willing to join my crusade. Then they decided to give me false information about the destination of the outsiders. They tried to trick me. Do I look like a man who has time for tricks?”
A large, muscular man, covered in tattoos, shook his chains angrily. “And do we look like the sort you can strike fear in? You cannot put fear into our hearts. Fear does not grow in bright places, you son of a bitch! We are the fearless!”
The entire line of chained gypsies cheered.
“HOOOODAAAAYAAAA!” they yelled. “HOOOODAAAAYAAAA!”
“We are the fearless!” the tattooed man yelled again. “The magicians of might! The combatants of carnage! We bend light and destroy the night!”
“HOOOODAAAAYAAAA!” they yelled.
Traven walked closer to the bearded lady, who’d taken a knee, looking exhausted. He squatted down next to her.
“Do you believe this nonsense?” he asked.
“I believe in them,” she replied, gesturing towards the rest of the gypsies with a nod of her head. “You can’t stop a freed slave,” she added.
Traven snarled with a raise of his lip over clenched teeth. He withdrew his sword and rammed it in and out of the bearded lady’s gut with a vengeance. She fell to the ground dead, yanking the gypsy shackled to her down to the ground. The others behind her stumbled forward as the weight of the woman yanked them off their feet.
“That’s what I think about you magician warrior freaks!” Traven angrily shouted. “You will all die here today!”
He moved on to the skinny man behind the bearded lady, and with a quick swipe with his sword, the man’s throat spilled open, seeping its blood onto the dirt floor.
Next in line was the pretty belly dancer who’d been trying to cover her breasts earlier. Traven decided she wasn’t worth keeping around. As he was about to rid her of the exposed breasts, a scream came from farther down the line. Then the belly dancer in front of him toppled backwards as the line shifted in the other direction. Traven left his prized dancer for the time being and moved to the woman causing all of the commotion. She’d fallen to her knees, bringing others crashing down with her.
“What’s wrong with this girl!” Traven yelled as he moved closer.
“She’s sick,” the tattooed man called out.
“Another trick, huh?” Traven asked.
One of his soldiers had already approached the fallen girl. He was backing away with a look of horror on his face. “My Lord, I don’t think this is a trick. You’ve gotta see this.”
Traven reached the girl and saw that it was another belly dancer, this one sweating profusely, with a face twisted in agony. Her stomach was moving in a strange way and was covered in thick, black, spider-webbed veins. The girl threw her head back and screamed in agony.
“Shut her up,” Traven ordered.
He looked over at his soldier, expecting him to jump at the order, but the man didn’t budge. He looked petrified.
The girl let out another scream.
“It hurts so bad. I can’t help it! Make the pain stop!” she yelled.
Traven watched her stomach roll around, as if something below the skin was about to make its escape. He was disgusted, but intrigued at the same time.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
“I don’t know!” she cried.
“One of the babies,” the girl next to her said. “The one with the black hair. It touched her or something. It did something to her.”
“One of the children did this
to her?” he said, not sure he believed what he was hearing.
“Just make it stop!” the girl begged. She grunted and screamed again.
Traven backed up a few steps and the people chained closer to her tried to do the same, but their shackles would only let them go so far. The creature beneath the skin moved back and forth violently, and then rammed at the spot between the girl’s legs.
“Kill me!” the girl begged.
Traven had never heard a woman beg to be killed. Usually it was the opposite. With his hands on his hips, he stood watching the scene unfold in front of him. It was just so damn interesting. He’d never seen anything like it. Then sorrow hit him again and he suddenly felt bad for the girl. What was this pain he felt in his chest that seemed to accompany the guilt? He didn’t like it at all. He ignored it and gave the order.
