Page Turners - Chapter 8 [Page 34] - 34 Skins
“I'm tired of this shit. I need a new job,” said a man in a blue beret and purple jumpsuit with teal arms and legs.
“Been saying that shit for decades. You're almost a centurion, just accept it. You farm crystal cocoons,” replied a woman in a matching jumpsuit and red beret.
“This ain't farming. Farming's what I did up on 42. This is like apple picking but worse. And fuckin' deadly.”
“So go back to 42! We both know you ain't starting up your Story again. You ain't cut out to be a Page Turner, just like the rest of us. That's why you're stuck on Lifecycle. Get over it already.”
“Would you two cut the shit! You think your yapping makes this any less tedious? Just do your jobs,” commanded another woman wearing the same jumpsuit but with the top tied at the waist. A Seamshot was not very subtly tucked into it.
“Uppity bitch,” the other woman grumbled under her breath.
“You got something to say, Scarlett?” the woman with the Seamshot asked.
“Nothing at all, Madam Kelri,” Scarlett answered, trying her hardest to hide her contempt.
“Shall we get this shift over with then? 34 Skins got no time for slackers. You work, or you're off the Lifecycle.”
The poachers scoured the hollow-grass for crystal cocoons as they slowly trudged their way through the spiky fields. The two underlings did most of the work, inspecting the grass and spraying the bug dampener. Officers bearing a Seamshot typically didn't do much of anything, besides bark orders.
Being totally non-uniform in height and width, the hollow-grass could sometimes make a person's eyes go a bit fuzzy if they stared at it for too long. Sometimes the poachers would do it intentionally as a desperate way to alleviate the boredom. Scarlett was doing exactly that only 10 km away from where Charlize and the others were hidden beneath the grass. Because of that, it took her some time to notice some extra activity congregating around that area. She rubbed her eyes to be doubly sure—action was rare in this line of work. And this depressingly constituted action.
“Yo, Kelri, you seeing that over there?” Scarlett asked while pointing to the spot about 10 km away.
“It's Madam Kelri! You mean the butterflies grouping over there? Let's go check it out. Chur, you're upfront with Scarlett. Keep the spray up.”
Chur, Scarlett, and Kelri spread out into a triangle formation, with Kelri at the front, and began to move.
Skulking below the hollow-grass, Charlize continued to fend off the butterflies as their numbers steadily increased. Crawling along the floor made it tricky to use her fingers as dexterously as usual. Just wielding a single String proved difficult, especially considering how small and nimble her targets were. She kept checking on the girl, who was clearly struggling with the loss of life raining down around her. But she was impressed—the girl was holding strong, even if she had to clench her fists and squint her eyes to do it.
Their numbers were rapidly increasing, and in a heartbeat, they were completely surrounded. Charlize kicked her feet as she felt the butterflies start to attach to her combat boots. Numbers from the rear were increasing, and she was already struggling to handle the ones in front. One slipped through, gently landed on the girl's thigh, and began sucking. She felt a sharp pinch and swatted the butterfly through sheer reflex. The pain was a shocking revelation. Instantly, she understood what was happening, what these insects were capable of, and why she wasn’t told about it before. She recognized that if they had told her before, she would have been racked with anxiety and fear at the potential hellish outcomes awaiting her in the hollow-grass. Hellish outcomes that she found herself right in the middle of. The thought was overwhelming—fear bounced through her body like a ball in a pinball machine. Panic began to rise, and without thinking, she started to rise with it, dragging herself to her feet in an attempt to escape. She felt a hand grab her by the collar and drag her back to the ground. Charlize pulled her closer, half-tucking her under her body while she continued to flick and swipe her fingers, carving through the butterflies trying to get a taste.
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Why are there so many all of a sudden? she thought. Has that idiot hit his ceiling already—can he not keep up?
She spun around to check on Od—he was gone. Her heart sank. Problems were quickly mounting, and she didn’t need another, not now. Losing her rear guard was already bad, but resisting the urge to think about his motives or whereabouts was even harder. She didn’t have the bandwidth to think about that right now. Prioritize and execute. Prioritize and execute, she repeated over and over in her mind. That mantra was her lifeline, her safety. As long as she repeated those words, as long as she meant them, she could handle anything. Prioritize and execute, Prioritize and execute, Prioritize and execute... Shit! Not now!
It was just then, as she was recounting her mantra, that she felt her String snap. The whole time, Charlize had a String that formed a roughly 5 km circle that surrounded them. It was set up to detect anyone who walked inside it—her final defense in case anyone got near them. She never expected it to break—it was just a silly final precaution. The timing couldn’t be worse. The girl's panic was starting to get out of hand, Od had suddenly vanished, and now at least one person was approaching them. Not forgetting the mounting hordes of butterflies looking to suck the very life out of them. Things were escalating out of control!
Now that the String forming the perimeter around her was broken, she could at least use the spare access to create another String to cut down the flying pests. Her finger twitching became even more chaotic as she formed another String and lashed the two of them around with frantic accuracy, invisibly whipping through her foes like blades of wind. One String covered the front, the other the rear.
The girl was struggling to contain her fear. Just as she was about to let out a scream, Charlize caught her. She placed her free hand over the girl's mouth, looked deep into her eyes, and without words, told her to keep quiet. The girl nodded ever so slightly in response, just about containing the tears welling in her eyes. Charlize didn't have a choice but to stop moving forward. With one hand wielding a String and the other over the girl's mouth, she didn’t have much of a choice but to wait for the poachers to pass.
Charlize suspected they would need to stay put for at least two hours while the poachers passed by, assuming the poachers didn’t trip over them before then. As she continued to swipe through the bugs, scattering their split bodies to the wind, she noticed she was making progress.
Why is this getting easier? she asked herself. Then it dawned on her that the poachers were closing in. Time was passing quickly due to their frantic circumstances, and she hadn’t realized how much had passed. The butterflies' numbers hadn’t dropped, but their tenacity had. The poachers were closing in, spraying the route ahead to ensure safe passage—the route Charlize and the girl were lying on.
She felt the girl's lips move under her palm and squeezed tighter in response.
“Quiet. You were right. We’re being watched,” Charlize whispered.
“No... not th–” the girl tried to reply, but Charlize just squeezed tighter, muting her completely.
The girl looked into Charlize's eyes and saw them grow wide.
The look sent a bolt of fear shooting down her spine to her tailbone. Her breathing became quick and shallow, not helped by the hand smothering her mouth. She turned her head as much as Charlize would allow and twisted her eyes as far as they could go, to get a peek at what was behind her. The bolt of fear bounced back up from her tailbone to the base of her skull.
Between the gaps in the hollow-grass behind the girl, Charlize saw a pair of boots at the end of teal trousers and froze.