The Mubilashi seethed and bubbled up through the tears in reality. Eyes gave way to mouths. Fangs slid from cracks in the world, stretching, and splitting, dividing like ivory kaleidoscopes into grasping hands of bone. White-clawed fingers twitched as they prepared to rend the children limb from limb.
“Wait!” Zoe’s voice surprised her.
But what surprised her more was the weight of attention that turned to her as the world froze.
“Yes?” whispered the Gambler in a wind blowing through the trees. The Mubilashi twitched. The world stuttered. “Best hurry, Zoe Chambers, time waits for no woman… not for long, at least.”
“Give them 30 seconds to run,” Zoe said. “Take it from the time we saved up after round 1.”
“That wasn’t part of the rules,” the Gambler’s voice circled her. “But you have the [Quest Breaker] title, and wouldn’t I be remiss for ignoring the title I handed out? But I am the Gambler, I have a reputation to uphold.” His voice lost all playfulness. “You may grant them half your time: forty-eight seconds, which will give your other survivors the same. What do you say?”
Zoe would not haggle over the lives of children.
“Do it.”
”Very well, half your time goes to the wee children. Let’s see how they do…”
The Gambler snapped his fingers, and time unfroze.
The four children flinched and scrambled, screaming, but stopped when they gazed at the frozen fangs outstretched like tiny white hands.
[You’re lucky you’re even getting this warning. Consider it proof that prayer really works. A Mubilashi will spawn in your vicinity. If you are within the circumference of the Mubilashi, it will… best not to find out, but unless you make it to the tree line, you will find out firsthand.]
[48 seconds.]
[47 seconds.]
The kids looked around, confused, as the Mubilashi twitched against its restraints.
[Run!]
The children sprinted for the bus door and pushed it open. Their shoes slapped the tarmac, and they ran. The seconds ticked down and Zoe’s eyes ached as she watched them run down the short straight road leading to the jungle.
They were so slow, and the Mubilashi was everywhere. Its claws extended from buildings, from the pavement, from holes in the night itself. Long hands like the pale roots of mushrooms. The children sprinted, puffing, panting, and then the youngest fell behind.
No, no…
The eldest girl pushed on ahead. Sprinting with all her Might for the welcoming dark of the jungle. There was no guarantee that it was safe in the trees, but the Mubilashi was not there, so it had to be better.
The youngest tried to stand. A little six-year-old boy. Blood poured from his skinned knee. He wiped away tears and limped after the others. He called out to them, but they did not even turn.
The eldest reached the jungle, she was sobbing, but she darted into the trees with a gasp of relief. The other two were almost to the trees, but the youngest was far down the road.
Only days into the apocalypse, and it had reduced them to this. Zoe wanted to turn away, but she didn’t. Even knowing she could not — for she was not flesh as she observed — she watched. Someone had to witness the cruelty of the system. Someone had to hold them accountable.
And the Gambler laughed inside her mind.
You are not the first to judge us. You are not the first to shake your fist with rage. His laughter grew in pitch like the shrieking of a kettle. The Crimson Armada sails an ocean of shaking fists. We will conquer the infinite. Join us. Defy us. The result will be the same.
The timer hit zero, and the Mubilashi sprung free.
Pale hands crisscrossed the town like a spider’s web. They pounced on the youngest child first and dragged him back from the tree line. The other two reached the trees, their hands over their ears as they ran into the jungle.
The youngest struggled. No longer screaming, he kicked at the hands. Flailed. Wriggled free from an ivory grip and stood. Limped a pace, before the hands pushed him down. Rolled him over the tarmac, and dragged him back toward the bus. Slower this time, waiting for him to struggle free again.
Zoe wanted to give up more time, but that would mean dooming the other survivors.
The Mubilashi flung him into the air like a killer whale playing with a seal.
“We give half our time,” Yvonne’s voice called out.
The world froze, and Zoe’s mind spun. She hadn’t realized everyone heard her earlier, but it gave her hope. Maybe they could work together. They could all win.
The child hung red-faced and screaming twenty feet above the tarmac road. White, bony hands reached for him from holes in the world. Eyes slit the hard white exterior. They glared up at her.
[The Witch promised us a world, Gambler. Let us play.]
“Oh, hush.”
A sound like a dripping tap, soft, insistent, as the mind of the Gambler tapped a mental finger against a mental chin. Zoe could almost feel him pacing.
“I feel caught in a trap,” his voice shrank as he moved further away. “If I grant one person the ability to give time, then to refuse another’s offer would be cheating of the highest order.” His voice grew. “And I borrowed these Mubilashi from my dearest mother, and you don’t want to see her mad…”
Stolen story; please report.
Zoe stared down at the scrunched-up face of the child. Wasn’t he all of them right now? Trapped in a situation beyond control.
The Gambler snapped his fingers.
“I shall take half your time,” he announced. “It’s not against the rules, so why should I forbid it? No reason!”
The world unfroze, and the child fell. He landed poorly on his ankle and wailed as it snapped.
[Due to the grace of people you shall never… actually, credit where credit is due. Two women saved you: Zoe Chambers and Yvonne Berg. They gave you the time to escape this abomination of a failed god. Run little broken child. Run for the trees. Find purpose in your life until the end of your days, for god deemed you unworthy, but humans rescued you.]
[56 seconds]
[55 seconds]
The child dragged himself down the road. He crawled under the Mubilashi’s outstretched hands. The ivory fingers twitched. They fought against their restraints. Snatching air. Clawing concrete into thin sobbing gashes. But they didn’t touch the boy.
[34 seconds.]
The child left a trail of blood. He was a hundred feet from the treeline. Going slower. Would he make it?
The older children emerged from the trees. Running. Tears streaked their faces. The eldest led the charge to the youngest, and she lifted him from the ground. With enhanced Might, she secured him on her back and ran for the trees.
[20 seconds.]
Red in the face she puffed as the youngest sobbed into her hair. His hands wrapped around her neck. The other two ran alongside, calling encouragement.
[18 seconds.]
All four of the children entered the treeline. The world blinked, and the contestants stood once more on the stage.
###
Bella leaned against Zoe as the stage swelled and swam about her. A choppy sea of cat litter. Whatever the gambler did to enable remote viewing, it left her wanting to puke everything up from her toes to her tonsils. She retched, weakly, more for the sake of it than anything.
A stagehand darted out from the shadows beyond the edge of the stage to hand her a water bottle dripping with condensation. The harried young woman looked like a cleaner from her work camp. But before Bella could ask questions, the Gambler interrupted with some polite applause.
“A touching moment, that speaks not just of the love present on this planet, amongst its surviving populace, but of the love within all of us,” he faced the audience with his hands of over his heart. “I love you, every one of you. And you too, my beautiful contestants. Truly, I am a changed man after the soul and sacrifice you have shown here today. Now, let us move on with round 1.”
He faced Bella.
“Team 1 originally had one minute and thirty-six seconds, but because of their charitable nature, I have reduced it to forty-eight seconds in total. Will that be enough time for these four accountants cowering in a child’s tree house? Let’s crunch the numbers!”
He extended his hand high in the air and snapped his fingers.
The audience vanished into the shadows beyond the stage. The remaining contestants rocked on their heels. Eyes bulging as they rolled back into their heads. A pale glow pulsed from deep inside the white flesh.
Except for Bella.
She reached out to Zoe, but the other woman felt like a statue. What did the Gambler do to them? And why was she unaffected?
The Gambler leaned against her podium.
“What did you think of my pun?”
She frowned.
“What?”
“When I said ‘crunch the numbers’,” he chuckled. “Because they’re accountants.”
“Who?”
He frowned.
“Your survivors. Have you been paying attention at all?”
Bella gestured to Zoe, Anton, and the other zonked contestants.
“What did you do to them?”
“They’re watching your survivors flee for their life,” he leaned in close. “Inside scoop? Mubilashi will probably win this round.”
Bella casually backed away from the podium and looked around the stage. The shadowy walls beyond trembled under her gaze. She kept a distance and meandered. Better not make any sudden movements.
I’m not a rabbit.
Bella froze. His voice inside her mind.
Yes, and it’s not at all cozy. Your mind is so jumbled! So packed full of ideas! Aren’t you just —
“Interesting,” he said as he leaned back against a frozen Anton and watched Bella. “How do you like the sword I gave you?”
The sword was in her hands. She gripped it tight. Heat pulsed out without her thinking. She gritted her teeth.
“I hate this thing. It is a parasite.”
He grinned.
“Two statements. One false, and one true. I wonder if your opinion will change when you return to your planet.”
Bella held the sword between them. It felt like holding up a match against a hurricane, but it gave her some small comfort. She didn’t want to take his bait, but…
“What have you done?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s not even officially announced, but it’s a done deal, let me tell you…” he chuckled, as though suddenly aware of the ridiculousness of his self-effacing act. “I will announce a quest when you return to Earth. If you complete the quest, you can remove the curse attached to that weapon.”
Bella’s heart pounded in her chest. An echoing beat pounded in the runeblade's handle.
“Can you tell me more?”
“Yes.”
The pause lingered on, and Bella bit her tongue to stop cursing out the Gambler.
“Will you tell me? Please?”
He shook his head.
“As a god, half the fun is watching you figure it out for yourself.”
Bella sighed. The heat from her blade wicked away. She tapped her chest with the cooling tip.
“What do you want from me? Honestly?”
His eyes hardened, and she flinched. She thought he might snap into a tirade and kill her. Kill them all. But he smiled; the first genuine smile she saw on his face.
“This,” he gestured between the two of them. “This gulf between us is what you must cross. Stop living as a mortal and embrace the path to apotheosis.”
There was an allure to his words. If Bella was a god, maybe she could cut off this asshole’s head.
He smiled and tapped his temple. An echoing tap sounded inside her mind. She shuddered and flipped him off.
“If you’re going to wipe me out, do it, because if I make it to your level it won’t be your level for very long.”
He tittered.
“It’s all a grand game, and this round is almost over.”
He snapped his fingers, and Bella was back behind the podium, supporting a nauseous Zoe and Anton.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, that was a close call. Who’d have thought he could hop to the top of that hill? Two survivors for team one is not a bad score at all considering the halved time, but will two survivors be enough to win them the round? Let’s watch team 3 to find out!”
He snapped his fingers.
Bella remained in the room.
“What —”
“I didn’t do a pun that time. It felt more natural, less forced.”
He snapped his fingers, and Bella fell into the sky over a rocky shore where a houseboat bobbed on the surface of a cruel and indifferent sea.