Chapter 28: Cut
“How do you deal with a skinchanger? Call a monster hunter. Failing that, run. They haven’t made a gun big enough to kill one of those things.”
-Ellian Garrow, Concordian monster hunter, 183 U.E.
Kazzul sat on a wooden crate in the shadow of the Tits Up, dousing his dry skin with a bottle of cold water. It was important for him to stay out of the sun, or he’d wrinkle like a raisin. Despite being amphibious, his people were built for the sea.
Torch sat in the sand opposite, cross-legged, biomech arm detached and resting in his lap.
The repairs were nearly complete. Just some touch-ups to the thruster cyclers and a cursory check over the hull, then they’d be fit to fly. It wasn’t pretty, not by a long shot, but considering the resources available, Kazzul was proud of his work.
The ship didn’t like Torch working her over. She preferred Kazul’s hand. Given their current predicament, however, she had allowed them to fix her up together.
They had earned a break. Kazzul had brought out a small bottle of Aqithi yiuzhan for both of them to enjoy.
“Can’t believe they’re all out there having fun without us,” Torch said sullenly, shaking his head. “That seem right to you?”
“Far as I see it, we dodged a bullet,” Kazzul said. “This way, nothing’s gonna poke us full of holes.”
“You’re saying you… don’t want to fight?” Torch asked, genuinely befuddled. “But why?”
Kazzul sighed, but smiled despite himself. “I didn’t reckon you’d understand, being a raving madman.” He put down the water, uncorked the glass bottle, and took a swig of the vaguely greenish liquid. It burned good on the way down. He handed it to Torch. “There. This’ll perk you up.”
Torch took two large gulps, stopped, and looked at the bottle. He gave a few rattling coughs and thumped his chest.
“Strong, right?” Kazzul asked.
Torch nodded, grinning. “Strong as gunpowder.” He took three more gulps before handing it back.
“Do you think they’re actually going to find any lakata out there?”
Torch considered it for a moment, pursing his scarred lips. “Hmm… nah. They’ll come back empty-handed, looking like a bunch of fools.”
“You think Stephan got a hold of Taira, then? I don’t much fancy going in there to look for her.”
Torch shrugged. “The cook’s got a way with women, has to be said. Knows how they think. Reckon they might’ve stopped for a bit of fun on the way back.”
“Doubt it,” Kazzul said. “You forget, dear sir, that I am a connoisseur of women, wiser by far than our cook.”
“You saying she doesn’t like him?”
“Oh no, don’t misunderstand. She likes him well enough. But he still hasn’t reeled her in. I’d give another two nights, three at most, if Stephan is playing his cards like he should.”
Torch shook his head firmly. “Nah. Taking too long. They’re doing something out there, and I bet it’s of the baby-making variety.”
Kazzul grinned and took a sip of yiuzhan. “Bet money on that?”
*****
Kurko formed a blade of ice in his right hand. A group of five lakata approached him, and he cut two of them in half with a lazy backswing. The rest hesitated. He skewered one, cut the head off another, and severed the legs off the last one, taking an odd pleasure in watching the legless creature crawl.
How would the elders look upon me now? he thought. They would be disgusted. But it was a niggling thought, easily dismissed. His rage overruled any inhibitions he might have had.
“You,” the demon hissed from atop its throne. “You really think this will turn out any better than it did before? You fools do not know true pain—but not to worry, I will set aside time for all of you. I am nothing if not a gracious ruler.”
“Kurko, keep an eye on the sky!” Stephan called from the treeline behind him. “Taira’s cooking up a surprise for you!”
Kurko looked up. The portal above his head went dark, becoming a black disk. Another portal opened up beneath the skinchanger’s throne, connecting to the one in the air.
“What is this?” the demon said, attempting to peer past its corpulent bulk.
Countless skulls rushed into the open portal, followed by the wailing demon. It clawed desperately at the ground before slipping through.
It flailed as it fell, spitting curses that set the air afire.
Kurko held out his sword in a two-handed grip, lining himself up with the tumbling demon. Sharpened ice met with putrid flesh, splitting it clean. There came more, and more, and more, and Kurko’s face was splattered with smoking blood.
He clove the skinchanger entirely in two, sword snapping in half as it broke through the top of its head. The halves sloughed off in opposite directions, intestines like smaller serpents sliding out of its bisected gut.
Kurko discarded the shattered weapon and went to check on the captain. She was still on her knees, staring numbly at the missing digits. He ripped off the vines that held her legs, but she didn’t move.
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“Come on, captain,” he murmured. “We’ve got to move.”
Quintilla didn’t answer.
The strange beetles were holding the tide against the lakata for the moment, preventing them from reaching Quintilla, but they wouldn’t keep them forever. The gunshots had stopped ringing out from the treeline, as well. Stephan was out of ammo.
The skinchanger’s two halves sent out little feelers towards each other, tendrils of skin and sinew that knitted themselves together. The demon was slowly reforming into a single entity.
“Captain!”
No response.
Kurko picked her up with one hand and heaped her over his shoulder. She protested weakly, but he ignored it and carried her towards the mouth of the clearing where Stephan and Taira waited.
“You’ve got the right idea!” Stephan called. “No way we’re beating all these guys! We should run while we can!”
Taira shouted something in True Speech. Yin stopped, repeated it a little cleaner, and the beetles came scuttling. Kurko elected not to ask about the situation. He had too much running through his head already.
Kurko caught sight of his shotgun and Quintilla’s holster, which lay next to one of the lakata huts. He bent down and snatched them up while he ran.
Yin landed on his other shoulder, panting heavily, arms spattered with blood. Her sword shook in her fist.
“This… has been… such a terrible day,” she wheezed.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Quintilla muttered, bouncing on his shoulder.
“No objections here,” Kurko said. “Let us never do this again.”
He batted a pair of lakata away with the butt of his gun. The beetles leapt atop another one, jabbing it in the sides with sharp claws until it fell. They passed the edge of the clearing into the forest, ducking under vines and brushing past bristly bushes. Taira and Stephan closed up behind them, struggling to keep up with Kurko’s long steps.
“Is everyone okay?” Stephan asked.
“No,” Kurko said. “But we will deal with that later.”
The lakata could still be heard behind them. The thumping of dozens of feet, the hissing of bloodthirsty beasts. The demon was barking orders in Zhurfuran, seemingly already recovered. Kurko didn’t have the time to look back and check.
“Kurko… give me my gun,” Quintilla said.
“Captain, I’m not sure that’s—”
“Give it to me.” Her tone left no room for questioning.
Kurko handed the gun holster to Yin, who passed it on to the captain. Gunshots rang out, followed by agonized hisses.
Yin had kept track of the way back to the ship and called out directions to the rest of the crew. The beetle creatures stayed close, scuttling on all six legs. They remained behind Taira, shells raised high in a defensive array.
They ran on for minutes. The lakata were slow on their stumpy legs, but the crew were exhausted. The creatures were catching up, slowly but surely, skinchanger spurring them on with guttural curses.
“We’re getting pretty close, I think,” Yin said. “Just a little further.”
“Don’t think you’ll be getting away, my sweets,” the skinchanger purred, close enough that Kurko felt its putrid stench. “I still have plans for you.”
Kurko’s body became engulfed in fire. His muscles tensed. His teeth clenched until he feared they might crack. Quintilla and Yin flying clear as he fell.
Kurko thumped his fists on the ground, body shaking. The burning runes burrowed into his flesh like parasitic maggots.
Stephan and Taira slowed, hesitating.
The lakata quickly surrounded the crew, spitting curses in Zhurfuran and their own savage tongue. The demon slithered forward. It approached Kurko, looking down at him like a snake the moment before striking at a mouse.
“Oh, what fun we’ve had,” it spoke. “It almost feels a shame to cut it short. It gets so boring here, you see. Most kin we catch die so easily. But you…” The demon grasped at the air, as if trying to catch something intangible. “You make a poor demon feel alive again.”
Kurko became aware of a sound. Rumbling, insistent, growing in intensity.
“What is that?” the demon asked, holding up a finger. “Another cheap trick?” It looked around, eyes narrowed.
Quintilla got on her knees, clutching her bloody left hand. “Give it a second, then tell me how cheap it feels.”
the rumble grew overpowering, making the very earth rumble. Kurko allowed himself to slump, despite the pain.
Here comes the rescue.
The Tits Up’s angular underbelly came into view above the trees, thrusters pushing the leaves low. It was the most beautiful thing Kurko had seen in a long time.
“Listen up, fuckers!” Torch’s voice echoed over a tinny farshout. “You’re going to pay for having all this fun without us!”
The great guns swiveled, pointed at the ground.
Boom!
Kurko’s vision was filled with white. The explosion echoed into infinity between his ears, all other sounds muted. Dirt sprayed onto him. The pain from the demonic runes lessened as the fire inside his body ceased.
He blinked, blinked, blinked. When he could see once more, he looked out over a field of scattered body parts, trees toppling this way and that. Ten, twelve lakata dead, maybe more. The demon lay in the bloody dirt, writhing, one arm and a significant chunk of its body blown clean off.
Kurko glanced around. The crew members were fine, shaking off dirt and viscera.
The ship slowly turned and set down on the clearing it had made. The lowered landing ramp dug into the skinchanger as it touched down, pinning the monster to the earth.
“Come on now, don’t be shy!” Kazzul cried over the farshout. “I’m not staying here forever!”
Kurko tried to get up, slipped, and fell back down. He cursed himself and scrabbled at the dirt, but his limbs were stiff and unresponsive. Stephan ran over to the ship, Taira in tow, and they got onto the landing ramp together. The beetles came after, walking backward while keeping their eyes peeled for threats.
Something tugged at Kurko’s arm, heaved it into the air. Quintilla draped it over her shoulders, pushing against his torso to get him on his feet.
“Captain…” he panted. “I don’t know if… I don’t know if I can get up.”
Yin bounced onto the ship like a bullet. The lakata were gathering themselves, and the demon began melted into sludge, sliding out from under the ramp.
“Shut your dumb face,” Quintilla said, left arm pinned to her chest. “You’re coming with me.”
Quintilla wasn’t strong enough to get him up, not even close, but her struggle warmed something inside him, loosened muscles he’d thought pushed past the point of breaking. Slowly, with many grunts and groans, he got on one knee, then pushed himself onto his feet.
“There you go, big guy,” she said. “Just a bit further.”
He put one foot before the other, the simple process taking immense focus. The few meters between him and the landing ramp seemed like an unbridgeable distance.
When he couldn’t stand any longer, he fell forward. His face met with cold metal. The ramp began to rise, and the increasing incline caused him to roll into the cargo bay.
Quintilla slumped against his chest, grinning like a demon herself.
“We did it,” she said.
“Lost all the money,” Kurko said.
“Cheating death’s worth a bit of that.”
Kurko faded from consciousness, vision blurring, sounds growing indistinct.
The last thing he felt was warm lips on his, the heft of the captain’s breasts on his chest. Her blood pooling on his stomach.
I must be the luckiest man in the world, he thought before he passed out.