Malik was exhausted.

The long day of travel, compounded with the vertical climb over the cliff, made him feel as if his arms were limp noodles and his feet were weighed down by cinder blocks. He’d woefully underestimated how difficult it would be to blaze a trail through the dense forest. When he’d set out, he thought it would be a challenging day.

It had proven to be more than he’d bargained for.

Now he was looking down at a swath of marshland from his vantage atop the ridgeline. It certainly didn’t look like things were going to get any easier. He’d just be trading stomping past fronds and grass for wading through muck and mire.

He’d referenced his compass twice since he’d moved away from the unending roar of the nearby waterfall. Both times the transponder had pinged just over a kilometer from his current location. That distance would take him somewhere deep inside the bog that covered the crater’s floor. Like a layer of slime covering a stagnant pond, gnarled Gloam trees and twisted vines formed a thick, fetid carpet across the valley. The only exception was a misshapen gap in the center of the bog that appeared to be a small lake.

Which is going to put the drone somewhere on the shore of that lake, Malik thought dejectedly as he scanned the swamp.

Thick vegetation formed a natural barrier around the lake at the swamp’s center. Malik would have to fight his way through the muck. A task that his legs were not looking forward to.

If that were the only trial to overcome Malik would have never considered turning back to rest. Unfortunately, the noxious smell of rotten eggs presented as much of a challenge as his aching muscles. The rancid scent that he’d first encountered at the waterfall had only gotten more pungent as he grew closer to the swamp. He was certain that he could see the bog bubble occasionally, like a witches cauldron, as gas rose through the murky water. The only defense he had against nauseating gas was the shirt he’d tied snugly around his face, making him look like some sort of bare-chested bandit. He wasn’t even sure if it would filter out enough of the fumes to keep him from getting sick.

But it would have to be enough.

I've come too far to turn back now. I’ll take tomorrow off and let Oscar do the exploring, for a change.

Jaw set and blue eyes focused, Malik began to carefully work his way down the steep slope. The grade was steep enough that his descent soon became a controlled slide scattering white pebbles as he passed. By the time he reached the base of the slope, it was taking all of his concentration just to maintain his balance. His lead foot sank into the soft, squishy ground like a baby’s fingers digging into a birthday cake. The suddenly arrested motion sent him lurching forward, arms pinwheeling wildly to try to keep himself upright. The ground made a sucking sound, like a cat hacking up a hairball when he jerked his foot free of the muck.

It took him three more steps to finally come to a standstill.

Stuck the landing. Daniella would be proud.

The thought of the good doctor angrily berating him about all the ways that maneuver could have ended in disaster made him chuckle. He could only imagine that Doc Liselle was a bouncing bundle of stress. The petite woman had obsessed over the crew’s health and safety for years. She’d been quick to correct anyone that she felt wasn’t taking their well-being seriously, whether it was grumpy O’Brian or domineering DeRosa. And that had been on a starship. With an entire planet at their disposal, he did not doubt that the crew could get up to enough mischief that Daniella would be gray by the time he saw her again.

That didn't even account for the colonists they may have found by now.

Gotta get moving. If I’m ever going to find anyone, I need to get that drone back in the sky.

His jaw clenched as he began to make his way toward the ragged edge of the swamp. There was no definitive treeline, but the ground continued to get softer as he moved away from the walls of the crater. The mushy earth quickly gave way to standing water that rushed to fill his bootprints when he stepped forward. By the time he reached the first Gloam tree, the ankle-high water was thick with algae and rotting debris.

As if to warn away Malik’s trespass, the air shattered beneath the weight of a grinding roar that sounded like a rockslide rushing down a barren mountain. Malik barely flinched at the sudden onslaught of noise. Battlefield reflexes kicked in and his rifle was pressed into his shoulder and ready to fire a split second later. The hum of the rifle’s charging capacitor was buried beneath a second scream, this one reminding Malik of the great cats that once roamed Earth.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Were there two voices in that second cry?

His brows were furrowed in concentration as he swept the muzzle of his gun across the eerie landscape. A swarm of flying insects infested the swamp, dipping and diving toward the water in a ballet of multi-hued bodies that glittered in the dim light. He saw small lizards clambering over the black Gloam trees and racing across the filthy water to ambush unsuspecting flies that swooped down to take a drink.

As he crossed into the swamp he paused to inspect one of the disfigured Gloam trees.

Malik immediately wished he hadn’t.

Unlike their cousins in the forest beyond the crater’s rim, these greedy abominations fed on more than just insects. The large irregular growths that made these Gloam trees look sick and diseased were lumps created from animals that had been captured by their sap. Malik could make out the blackened remains of lizards, frogs, and birds. He passed one tree with a particularly large bulge on its trunk that could have been a very young carbuncle.

Malik couldn’t imagine being covered in layer after layer of sap while he slowly died of dehydration or suffocation. To make matters worse, his last moments would be forever frozen like a mosquito caught in a chunk of amber. He would spend eternity as a cautionary tale for anything that drew too close to the vile Gloam trees.

Another raucous war cry pulled him from his macabre daydream.

I’m closer now. It makes me think that whatever is going on, it's happening by the lake. Which checks out. There’s probably a dragon wearing my drone like a crown.

If the grim expression on his face was any indication, Mal’s attempt at wry humor did little to lighten his mood.

Minutes began to creep by as he carefully worked his way deeper into the swamp. His nose had grown numb to the noxious odor, the initial burning sensation he’d felt having long since been replaced by a dull ache in the back of his throat. He tried to ignore it the same way he was ignoring the way his leg muscles fluttered on the verge of cramping.

He knew he was close. He could tell by the birds.

The first sign that he’d reached the heart of the swamp was the large black birds that were almost invisible against the Gloam trees they were perched upon. With wings the size of an albatross and a body that looked like an oversized crow, the dangerously large birds had their attention fixated on something in the distance. Something that Malik could now hear.

There was a constant low growl vibrating through the air, occasionally punctuated by a loud squelch like the sound of a tomato being crushed beneath a sledgehammer. A duet of angry roars rose challengingly into the air every few seconds, much to the dismay of the enormous crows. As one the birds flapped their wings and cawed threateningly each time the roars rolled across the marshland.

Guess it's time to find out what’s going on.

A half dozen steps later, Malik emerged from the treeline.

The lake at the center of the swamp had no shore, only a vague boundary where the Gloam trees were unable to venture into the deeper water. At the center of the lake, there was a small mound of mud and silt that barely rose above the water line. The islet sparkled and flashed in the late afternoon sun, a pile of shiny rocks and pieces of what looked to be metal. The strange treasure hoard would have drawn more of Malik’s attention had it not been for one other tiny detail.

Less than fifty meters away a battle was taking place.

Malik recognized the green blur of two carbuncles. The deadly beasts were moving so fast that they threw up rooster tails of pungent water behind them. A third carbuncle was unmoving, half submerged in pink-tinted water at the edge of the lake. Fearless in their rage, the two dangerous creatures relentlessly attacked the second largest monster Malik had seen since he arrived on Ryujin.

A turtle stood at the edge of the lake. Not just any turtle, but one with a shell large enough that his entire crew could stand on. With space to spare. Its head, crowned with two swept-back horns, sat atop a long, thick neck that swayed sinuously through the air like a cobra preparing to strike. A tail that reminded him of Oscar’s swung rapidly in agitation as it brandished a bony tip shaped like the head of a mallet. Upon its back stood two of the oversized crows, angrily flapping their wings while they screamed at the green intruders.

Malik spent six seconds assessing the battle before he concluded that the carbuncles would lose. For all their speed, they couldn’t close on the turtle's neck and inflict damage before the creature could retaliate. Its weaponized tail prevented them from flanking and its shell stopped any other potential attack vectors. In truth, the carbuncles would have already joined their friend in the afterlife if the turtle’s ponderous bulk wasn’t severely hampering its ability to move across the muddy ground.

There was only one way the carbuncles could win this fight.

Malk took a deep breath and brought his rifle up. The weapon’s muzzle, offering the kiss of hypervelocity tritanium, gleamed in the afternoon sunshine. A flick of his thumb urged the rifle's capacitor to start its deadly hum, like a banshee being roused by a cold-hearted vampire.

One of the oversized crows riding on the back of the turtle saw the flash of sunlight across polished metal. The bird gave a fluttering hop as it turned to look directly at the human interloper.

Then it began to shriek.