Chapter 36: Lemur, Bat, and Goat

When: Between then and now.

Where: Between here and there.

Who: Theresa ‘Tess’ Armstrong.

Book was a mess, that’s for sure. I’m probably not much better, but why start admitting it now?

The first thing the poor guy did once we were on solid earth again was to puke. Fuck me, was there ever a more contagious sound? I couldn’t watch, so I turned to the bags I’d lugged to the platform before beaming—or whatever—down to the planet. I squatted on my heels, thankful there was no one around to see that sight! Yeah, Book’s here, but he had turned away to blow chunks. Besides, Book was, well, Book. He’d never…I ruthlessly squashed that train of thought.

When I had found the bags back up on the ship, the first thing I noticed on taking a peek inside were stamped letters on the lining; A.T., J.B., S.G.,C, and R.R., all of our initials. Of course, Carmen’s had to be a single letter—even now they were an enigma. R.R.? I thought Babe’s name was Nicki. It was probably something cutesy and brainless, like Robin…nicky? Raenynn? Who cares? Not me. Oh, middle name, duh! Book would know, he was good like that.

‘Bad Tess’, I scolded myself with a head shake. ‘Bad!’

I found the duffel with my initials and started rummaging inside it. Let, me, see; a water skin made from some sort of leather—bet it tastes like ass—, leathery meat—ditto—, a set of rough clothes—not leather, pout—, a small bag—clinking?—, and a pair of crude sandals.

I shook out the two garments, finding a baggy smock I took to be a shirt and—please, do not be a skirt, underwear not included!—what turned out to be some loose-fitting pants. Everything was either off-white or beige, boring. Beggars can’t be choosers.

“Book!” I got his attention and gestured to his bag. “This one is yours, dude.”

He hurried over, not taking the time to search beyond the clothes before he started putting them on with relief. What did he have to be embarrassed about? Especially now, of all times. The DNA reconstruction and starvation diet had him looking better than ever before.

“Wait!” I stopped him. I couldn’t blame him, but we had to be smart. Real-world smart, not book smart. No pun. Before he could ruin the only set of clothes made to fit him, as these were obviously “tailored” individually to each of us, I grabbed a shirt from the R.R. duffel and started ripping it into rags. It was harder than I thought, made from sturdy stuff. That boded well for the future, though I could always tie one of the bigger ones around my waist, like Steve’s.

God damn, Steve. Why did you go the wrong way? This would be a lot easier if you were here. Nothing against Book, but still. I wanted them both.

I grabbed the water from the same bag as the shirt, wetted down some rags, and started wiping the blood off of my hands and body. Book caught on fast, and followed my suit after turning his back to me again. Aw, he was so cute!

I hurriedly slipped the shirt on, then climbed into the pants. Lastly, the sandals went on my feet. Thank god, I hated being barefoot—or bare-assed!—outside. OK, that one time with Steve, but that’s it! How many times have I said that?

‘This one time, at band camp…’

“Are there…” he paused. “Bags for everyone?”

“Yep.” So, he’d noticed the monograms, too. “I took them all, thinking we needed everything we could get our hands on. I even grabbed Ricki’s.”

“Nicki.”

“Sure. But I don’t ever want to think about…that, again.” I shuddered, picturing it all over in my mind. The exploding pain and all of us screaming in unison, then an audible pop like an M-80 in a watermelon. The spray was the same, too. Luckily, Bitsy was in the cell next to mine, and not across from it.

Book and Steve had a front-row seat. I vowed that I would never ask them about it, no matter how much I loved horror flicks. My step-mom would say that I’m deflecting. Whatever.

“Hey, look at this!”

I shot a look at Book, and saw him waving a knife around “Dude, where did you get that?”

“It was in my bag, rolled up with the belt.”

I scurried back to my own bag and searched through it again. OK, here is the belt—leather, yay!—let me unroll it, and…Nothing? Where is my knife? Don’t tell the damn Orcs are chauvinistic, too? For fuck’s sake!

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

I checked Steve’s bag next, and sure enough, another knife. I’d seen some of those titted Orcs with bigger muscles than the males, so what gives?

“Men are idiots.”

“Obviously, but why this time?”

“Because, Jasper,” there, now he knew I was pissed. “Only the two men were given knives., that’s why.”

“Really, huh? I would have thought ravaging, kidnapping Space Orcs would be more progressive than that.”

“Excuse me!” I stared in disbelief; how could he say that? Then I saw his face. “Oh, haha, Book. You’re a funny guy, yes you are.”

I bound the belt around my waist, leaving the shirt un-tucked for a little style, and used the attached sheath for my new knife. The blade itself was unremarkable, cheap steel with a single edge, and very utilitarian. It was made for everyday use, not fighting. I knew a touch of knife fighting, having been taught the basics by my martial arts instructor, which I’m sure would come back to me in a pinch (??). What, why would I question that? That doesn’t feel like me. Again; What. Ever.

The little clinking bag had a small handful of metal coins in it, currency of some kind, and bound to be useful. Even the large duffels themselves might come in handy. Everything had potential value in a survival situation.

“Should we, I don’t know, explore or something?”

I looked at the sky before answering Book. It was maybe late afternoon, or early evening? I wonder if this thing in my head had a clock or something. I think Book said he did. So far, I only had the proximity thing, where I could see if someone was in a certain range of me. No complaints about that; it had served me well in the escape.

“Yeah, but not far. I want some distance from this spot, in case anyone comes looking, you know?”

“You think they can’t track us with these implants? I’d assume they know exactly where we are.”

“Great, Book. Way to cheer me up. Irregardless…”

“Regardless.”

“Dude, who cares? Anyway, I still want to put some distance on the map, even if they have GPS.” I looked around, but no direction struck any more than another. I closed my eyes then, listening. I held a finger up to Book, warning him to let me be for a minute. After a long stretch, my new ears picked up what might be running water.

“That way,” I said, pointing a finger. I shouldered three bags, mine, Steve’s, and Carmen’s, leaving the last for Book, along with his. These sandals might be ugly as hell, but the soles were thick and sturdy. If it wasn’t for the pebbles bouncing in over the top, they’d be perfect for this trek. Thank God they weren’t the toe-thong kind, slapping against my heel at every step. Not a big fan of the thong style, except that one time…

“Bad Tess! Bad!”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing, just talking to myself. Don’t worry about it. And try to stay a little behind me, OK? We are too big a target if we walk side by side.” And it’ll be harder to hear me when I think out loud. ‘Bad Tess!’

We walked for a while, and I noticed the ground under the dense overhead canopy start to gradually dip down. It was a good sign for water. Sure enough, another twenty minutes or so passed and the trees parted like a curtain, framing a happily burbling creek.

I rushed forward, splashing directly into the water. It was bitter cold and felt glorious on my tired feet. I was also slightly out of breath, which never would have happened before. Even with this modified body, being restrained behind a force field in a tiny cell had robbed my lungs of their hard-won endurance. I was a long-distance runner, for Christ’s sake!

“This is far enough, for today,” I said, having no idea if it was true. According to Book’s theory, nowhere would be far enough. Fuck that.

“So, in the novels I read, water always leads to a settlement of some kind.”

“Yeah, I figured that too,” I told my best friend. “In the morning we’ll head downstream, then. For now, let’s eat and drink, then try to get some rest.”

“Sounds good to me.”

As I was leaning down towards the creek, wondering if it might be safe enough to drink so we didn’t deplete our water skins too much, a shadow fell over me. Something was plunging down at me from the trees! Shit, I wasn't paying attention to my HUD close enough.

“Tess! Look out!” Book cried out, like I needed him to tell me.

The shape was falling too fast for me to reach for the knife at my belt, so I squared my hips, bending my knees slightly and opening my arms wide to take the hit. A tight bundle of muscle and fur hit me—was that a tail?—dirty fangs gouging in vain for my throat. I took the weight and redirected it, slinging us around and down where I landed on top of the beast.

I put a knee in the thing’s chest, pinning it in a couple of inches of icy runoff. Not enough to drown it, unfortunately. If a lemur and a bat had a threesome with a goat, the resulting love batter might birth something like the squirming monstrosity under me. Yeah, even I’m grossed out by that. Who in their right mind says ‘love batter’? Ick.

The other part was kinda cool.

Or would be, if the tail wasn’t slithering around my neck. Shit, it had barbs along the fleshy length! So much for keeping blood off my shirt.

The warm trickle of the red stuff contrasted sharply with the cold water the thrashing monster splashed everywhere. I dug my knee in deeper, throwing all of my weight under the point of it, and twisted it back and forth. The monster screamed in pain, so good for me!

Now that I had time, I pulled the knife from my belt and plunged it through the furry throat. The blade wasn’t long enough to pin the thing down like a bug, so I twisted it like my knee, then jerked the knife to the side with all I had. The flesh was tough, so it wasn’t a clean slice like I’d imagined, but rather more like a nail tearing across cardboard. A jagged rip opened its throat, spraying blood in an arc and spattering over my now-ruined shirt.

A couple of spasms and a moan pushed from an exposed windpipe, then the thing lay still.

“Aaaagh!” I yelled. More of a battle cry, honestly. It was way past time to let out some bravado, and terror. “You picked the wrong girl!”

“Christ, Tess! Are you alright?”

“Never better!” I must look like a ghoul, covered in blood—again—kneeling over a dead lemur-bat-goat, and thrusting my stained knife at the sky. Damn, it felt good. Maybe too good, but…whatever.

I could take on this world.

And look good, doing it.

Where did those dots on the HUD come from?

"Book, get ready."

I grinned a bloody grin.