Bridgers 1_The Lure of Infinity

by Stan C. Smith

  By the time he crawled onto the rocks, Infinity was already sitting up inspecting red bite marks, which dotted most of her body. Desmond was no better off. He had countless tiny bites, a thin trickle of blood running from each one. Two of the fish were still clamped onto the raw tissue where the bird’s weapons had punctured his chest. He angrily crushed them between his fingers as he pulled them off.

  “I’d kill for a pair of shoes and some clothes,” he said. He looked across the river. The black birds were still at the water’s edge, perhaps forty yards away. They chattered to each other while gazing across at the humans. They seemed calm, as if they found the situation only mildly interesting.

  Infinity moaned as she got to her feet. “They want us to run, to get a head start. But my body’s almost done. There’s no way we can lose those tracking creatures. So I have a plan, and I don’t want any crap from you. We’ll cross this field and I’ll find a place where I can ambush them. I’ve got one fight left in me. I may be able to take them both out. Regardless, I want you to be two miles away by the time they find me. With that kind of lead, you might last until bridge-back.” She nodded toward the forest on the far side of the birds’ crop field. “When we get to those trees, you’re going to take off, and I’m going to hide and wait for the bastards. Let’s go.” She turned and started walking across the birds’ crop field.

  Desmond got to his feet and stood there for a moment, considering Infinity’s plan. He shook his head and caught up to her. But he remained silent. He definitely wasn’t going to leave her alone, so there was no point in arguing about it.

  All Desmond could see of Infinity was her eyes, and she was still glaring at him. She was twenty yards away, against the ground and well hidden in some low brush. Desmond was hidden in the same way. It was all part of Infinity’s plan, except that Desmond wasn’t two miles away running for his life.

  Once Infinity had given up on convincing Desmond to leave her, she had picked a spot with brush on both sides. They had walked through the middle of it and continued on for about fifty yards before splitting up and circling back on either side. When the tracking animals led the black birds on the scent trail between the two hiding spots, Infinity and Desmond would let them pass and then surprise them by attacking from behind. Infinity had given him the spear, keeping the knife for herself.

  After having defeated the two brown birds back at the cliff, Desmond was feeling confident. He planned to swing the spear as a club, as he had done before, and after the first hit he would thrust one of the stone tips into the bird until it was dead. He had no idea if the tracking animals were dangerous, but they would probably have to kill those, too.

  Now all they had to do was wait. If the black birds didn’t show up—even better.

  No such luck. Desmond heard them chattering to each other before they came into view. The damn things were awfully casual about this hunt, probably due to overconfidence. Desmond was looking forward to shutting them up for good.

  Just as Infinity had predicted, a few minutes later the birds passed directly between them, the tracking animals bent low against their leashes, following the scent trail. Desmond’s heart began beating faster, and his hands started shaking, his self-assurance having quickly evaporated. He’d had one lucky win against creatures that weren’t even trying to kill him. How could he have thought he was now a real fighter?

  The creatures walked past, and Desmond saw movement in the brush on the opposite side of the path. Infinity was nodding at him. It was time.

  She struggled to her feet and charged the black bird nearest her.

  Feeling again as if his mind were disconnected from his own body, Desmond charged the other bird man at full speed. Infinity had said to be silent until he had made the first cut, but he involuntarily screamed in raw fury.

  He swung his weapon at the bird’s head but it swished through the air without making contact, and he lost his balance. The bird had ducked just in time. Before Desmond knew what was happening, he was on his back. The black bird was standing over him, pressing one of the points of its spear into his throat. The bird’s tracking animal was inches from Desmond’s face, sniffing his scent but remaining eerily silent.

  “Don’t try to fight!” Infinity cried. “Don’t even move—we underestimated these assholes.”

  Desmond turned his head to see her. She was on her back also, the other black bird pinning her to the ground in the same way.

  The two birds squawked back and forth briefly. Hoping it might help, Desmond did his best to repeat the same squawks.

  The bird above him leaned closer, its unblinking black eyes studying him. It pulled the spear tip back from his throat and slowly moved it down to the middle of his chest and then to the side, the point barely touching Desmond’s skin as it moved. The tip stopped, hovering just above one of the puncture wounds he’d received earlier. The tip entered the wound, gradually pushing its way into his already tender flesh.

  He tried not to struggle. “No, please don’t.”

  The bird savagely raked the spear tip up toward Desmond’s shoulder, ripping through skin and muscle on the right side of his chest.

  He screamed and slammed his head on the ground. He grabbed the spear, which was already pressing against his throat again.

  Just then, Infinity screamed also, her cry ending with garbled curses Desmond couldn’t understand.

  He turned and saw that the black bird standing over her had run its spear entirely through the arrow wound in her hip, grinding the spear’s tip into the soil beneath her. Without warning, it yanked the spear back out, and she screamed again.

  With incapacitating horror, Desmond realized the birds were not only going to kill them—they were going to make them suffer. The creatures seemed fascinated with their reactions to being tormented. Perhaps it was their way of studying creatures they didn’t understand.

  Desmond grabbed the bird’s spear and pulled it closer to his own throat. “Just kill me!”

  “No, Desmond!” Infinity said. “Don’t you dare.”

  The bird yanked the spear from his hands. It stepped back, pulling its tracking animal with it. It then pointed its spear to the forest, in the direction Desmond and Infinity had been fleeing before their failed ambush.

  Desmond grunted and got to his feet. Infinity rolled over to her hands and knees but was struggling to stand up. He went over and helped her.

  “They’re letting us go,” he said. “Again.”

  She nodded. “Then let’s go.”

  One of the black birds squawked. Desmond turned, and the creature pointed its spear toward the stone knife Infinity had dropped and then to Desmond’s spear. Desmond picked them up. The bird then gripped the crossbow and coil of rope hanging from its neck and shook them. Desmond sighed, walked to his hiding spot, and retrieved his crossbow and rope. The two birds watched calmly as he turned back to Infinity.

  He put her arm over his shoulder and together they walked through the forest until they could no longer see the black birds.

  “Change of plans,” Infinity said. Her uneven words indicated that every step was a battle. “We can’t fight them. They’ll beat us again. And if we live, again after that.”

  “That’s not much of a plan.”

  She shot him a glance, sweat running down her face. “It’s simple. You endure whatever they do to you.”

  14

  Creed

  Heart to blood, muscle to bone, tourist flesh above my own.

  With self-sacrifice near, my fuel is fear.

  By bridger means and might, tourists will not fight.

  There were two more lines, but Infinity couldn’t remember them. She had repeated the five principles of the Bridger’s Creed hundreds of times—maybe thousands—but at this moment she couldn’t remember the last two.

  “Are you okay?” the tourist asked. “You’re mumbling.” He had his arm around her waist, helping her walk.

  She nodded. “I’m fine.” But why couldn’t she remem
ber the last two principles? In fact, she felt as if the first three were about to slip away too. Heart to blood, muscle to bone, tourist flesh above my own. With self-sacrifice near, my fuel is fear. By bridger means and might… By bridger means and might…

  “We need to get you some water,” said the tourist—the tourist who should never have had to fight.

  That was it. By bridger means and might, tourists will not fight.

  “Just hang on. The river’s this way. We’ll get you hydrated. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

  He was walking faster than she could move her feet and she stumbled. “This isn’t right,” she said. “I’m a liability.”

  He continued pulling her along. “It’s a bridging excursion. You take what you get.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “You’re the one who said it, Infinity. Two days ago.”

  Heart to blood, muscle to bone, tourist flesh above my own.

  “I see the water now. You’ll drink, we’ll cross the river again, and then we’ll lose them.”

  She stumbled again. “I’ve got a better plan.”

  “Just save it. Your plans always involve getting yourself killed. I’m not letting that happen.”

  The river was bordered here by tall mud banks, so they walked downstream until they found a washout they could easily descend. With his arm still around her waist, the tourist walked her into the current until they were thigh deep.

  “Drink as much as you can.”

  She put her entire head under for several seconds, allowing the cool water to rinse away the sweat and filth. Then she drank until she felt like she might throw up. Several carnivorous fish had already found her and were nibbling at her flesh, but at this point they were a minor annoyance.

  The tourist looked back the way they’d come. “No sign of them yet. Let’s drift downstream a ways and then cross.”

  Her head was clearer now. “That’s what you’re going to do, but I’m going ashore here. I’ll walk upstream, and they’ll follow my scent trail. Get as far as you can.”

  He frowned, then grimaced and swiped at a fish biting his leg. “Listen, bridger. Five minutes ago you could barely walk. You won’t get far. They’ll find you in no time. Then they’ll realize what our plan was and come after me. I heard some of what you were mumbling. By bridger means and might, tourists will not fight. If you leave me alone, you’ll be forcing me to fight alone. So you need to do your goddamn job and come with me.”

  She glared at him. He was right—she wouldn’t get far. But he wouldn’t get far either, dragging her with him. She looked down at the stone knife she was still gripping in her right hand. There was one way she could make him flee without her. With self-sacrifice near, my fuel is fear. She raised the knife to her throat.

  “Don’t!” he gasped. “You’re the only thing keeping me going.”

  She blinked. Slowly, she lowered the knife. Carnivorous fish were still picking at her wounds, but she didn’t care. As a bridger she had made difficult decisions before, but she had never felt this uncertain. Her gut instinct told her that self-sacrifice was the right thing for this situation, but Desmond was also right. Or did she just want him to be right?

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  He furrowed his brows, and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

  “I said okay. Let’s move.”

  They waded farther into the water and allowed the current to carry them downstream, but soon the biting fish became intolerable, forcing them to cross the river.

  Infinity kept a good pace for a few minutes, but then she began stumbling again, and Desmond had to support her. Every step with her right leg sent spasms through her hip. She realized that if Desmond weren’t with her she would have already given up and stopped to make one last stand against the black bird men.

  Step after burning step she pushed on. They followed the river so that Infinity could replenish her depleted fluids as needed. They hadn’t seen the bird men since before crossing the river, but Infinity knew it was only a matter of time. And the sun was still too high to allow for hope that bridge-back would occur first.

  Desmond stopped abruptly, snapping Infinity out of a pain-ridden stupor.

  “Stay still,” he whispered.

  She followed his gaze. About sixty yards to their left, three beaked, wolf-sized animals were hungrily feeding on a large carcass. The mangled corpse was impaled beneath a wooden framework of spikes.

  “I’ve been here before,” he said softly. “That’s the kill trap I told you about yesterday. I know where we are.”

  The creatures continued tearing at the carcass, apparently unaware of the humans. Desmond guided Infinity down the sloping bank of the river until they were out of the creatures’ sight. They moved downstream a short distance and then started back up the bank toward the trees.

  Infinity tripped and fell, bringing Desmond down with her. It felt good to lie still on the muddy slope. “I’m done, tourist. You gotta leave me here.”

  Desmond put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen. Like I said, I know where we are. We’re going over this hill and up the next. That’s where the cave is.” He patted the length of rope coiled around his shoulder. “We’re going to drop down to the cave and hide there until bridge-back.”

  “They’ll track us there, straight to your friends,” she said.

  “But the cave is defensible, right?”

  She considered this. The black bird men would have to lower themselves to the cave by rope. Even if they could do that with one hand and a beak, they would be vulnerable. If she could make it to the cave, she could lower Desmond and the weapons down, and all three tourists would have a reasonable chance. Particularly if she then lured the bird men away from the cave.

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  He got to his feet and then helped her up. They began making their way toward the cave.

  But by the time they reached the first hill’s summit, Infinity knew she wasn’t going to make it. No amount of willpower could overcome her exhaustion and the paralyzing pain that came with every step.

  She could tell that the tourist knew it, too. Every few seconds he would look over his shoulder to see if the bird men were catching up, and as they began descending the slope to the next valley, he stopped.

  “Take these.” He handed her the two-tipped spear he’d been carrying in his free hand. He had also been carrying the knife since she’d dropped it near the river, and he handed it to her as well. “Yesterday, you carried Lenny over your shoulders. That’s what I’m going to do now.”

  She studied him for a moment. Was he strong enough to pull it off? Would it get him into the cave faster? She wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t think clearly enough to argue.

  “Okay.” She transferred the two weapons to her left hand and swung the crossbow around so it was hanging against her back. “Take my right hand in your left and put my arm over your shoulders.”

  He had to bend over to do this.

  “Now put your right arm between my legs and pick me up.”

  He bent lower, grunted, and used his legs to lift her. Without needing to be told, he transferred her right wrist to his right hand and gripped it tightly. “Jesus, you’re heavier than you look.”

  “Shut up and walk. Look before you place every step. With a heavy load, your balance will suck.”

  He started down the hill, stumbling a few times at first but quickly finding a rhythm.

  Heart to blood, muscle to bone, tourist flesh above my own. With self-sacrifice near, my fuel is fear. By bridger means and might, tourists will not fight. Infinity still couldn’t recall the last two. But it didn’t really matter—at this moment she was probably defying all of them.

  Exhausted, she allowed her head to hang down and rest against Desmond’s arm. Briefly, she wondered if her name would be added to the Lost Bridger wall in the hallway of SafeTrek if she didn’t make it. Maybe they’d put hers beneath Hornet’s and Razor’s.

  Desmond slogged through the
stream at the bottom of the first hill and started up the second hill. The rhythm of his steps and his breathing lulled Infinity toward unconsciousness.

  “We made it,” the tourist said after what seemed like a long time.

  Infinity opened her eyes and blinked. He was right—they were at the top of the hill.

  He kneeled and gently rolled her onto the ground. Again he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You still with me?”

  She nodded and sat up. The knife and spear were still in her left hand. Sprawled on the ground beside her like a dead snake was the rope they had made the previous day.

  She nodded at the longer rope still hanging from his shoulder. “Give me that. We’re getting you down to the cave.”

  He lifted the rope from his shoulder. “We’ll figure out a way to fasten it to something, and we’ll both go.”

  She looked around. There was nothing there but a few loose rocks, none of them large enough to support either of them. She looked at the four-foot spear. Could they drive it into the ground and tie off to it? Was it strong enough? She handed it to him. “This is all we’ve got.”

  Desmond took the spear, stepped to the edge of the cliff, and called out softly. “Lenny? Xavier?”

  There was no answer.

  He tried again, a bit louder. Still no response. He frowned and shook his head. After a moment, he took the spear and positioned it vertically over a spot that was covered in soil rather than bare rock. “Hold it here.”

  Infinity crawled to the spear and held it.

  Desmond picked up a fist-sized rock and brought it down on top of the spear. The weapon pierced the soil several inches. He hit it again, but the spear stopped, having obviously hit rock. He pulled it out and tried a different spot. It hit rock again. He moved it five feet back from the cliff’s edge, but it still would go no more than a few inches before hitting the large sheet of rock beneath them.

  They gazed at each other silently. One of them would have to lower the other down to the cave.