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59 - Close The Gate

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Suni

“Close the gate!”

The call went out ahead of me as the guards turned and half-ran, half-fell back into the camp.

I leaned into my sprint as hard as I could without toppling over. The wind rushed in my ears, the ground pounded against my feet, and my arms pumped with everything I had. I ran like my life depended on it, which it very much did.

The cut to my forearm was still bleeding, blood flying out into the air with every step. Blood that had done its job all too well.

The patrol was forty paces ahead of me now, but slowed by their armor, and I was gaining on them. I spared a glance over my shoulder in time to see a tree shaking in the wind. Except, another tree was shaking too, then all of them were, leaves raining down en masse. And it wasn’t because of the wind.

The komodo exploded out of the jungle with a roar that shook the ground beneath me.

As it turned out, my hypothesis had been correct. Everything I’d seen from the komodo so far had indicated it was a tracker, that it latched onto the smell of its prey and followed it for days on end. The smell of my blood on the wind had caught its attention. All of its attention.

I’d never had such mixed feelings about being right about something.

“Close the gate!”

“Wait for us!” the soldiers ahead of me shouted and I couldn’t help but agree. The whole plan, the whole stupid, suicidal plan, hinged on me making it inside that gate. Theo had said we’d needed a distraction, and a big one. Well... here it was.

The komodo roared again and I would’ve cursed if I’d had the spare breath to do so. I could feel the thing behind me now. Fifty paces away, maybe less. But in a dead sprint, there was no competition. One of the komodo’s strides equaled a dozen of my own.

The gate ahead was closing, the guards shoving on the massive doors and swinging them shut.

No! Not yet!

I ignored the burning in my lungs, the rasping in my throat, the agony in my legs, and pushed forward.

Fifteen paces to go.

The gate stopped closing, left just enough space for a man to slip inside.

Ten paces.

The first of the soldiers slipped inside, then a second. A third.

Five paces.

I can make it. I can...

A fourth soldier slipped in and then the gate ripped the fabric of the fifth and final Bospurian’s uniform as he squeezed his way in.

“No!”

The gate slammed closed with a resounding thud.

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I tucked a shoulder and launched myself into it. I hit it with all of my force.

And bounced right back off, falling to the ground with nothing to show for it but a complaining shoulder.

The ground shook against my face, the dirt jumping up and down with the komodo’s pounding strides.

I scrambled to my feet, spared a glance over my shoulder, and wished I hadn’t. The komodo was forty paces off and drawing closer by the moment.

I turned back to the gate and did the only thing I could. It was a tall thing, made of de-branched tree trunks all nailed together. There were the slightests of gaps between each trunk, spaces where the uneven, natural wood didn’t quite fit together. I jammed a hand into the closest space, wrapped my fingers around the curve of the tree trunk, then reached up for the next gap.

The skin on my fingers scraped off as I jammed my other hand into the next opening, but I ignored the pain, hardly even felt it. The ground was shaking beneath me and there was nowhere to go but up.

“Come on, come on,” I said, then jumped and reached for another gap. My skin scraped again against the rough wood, but found purchase and I gripped tight. I brought my feet up next, flat as I could get them against the wood. Thankfully, the trees were rough; I pressed my boots into the bark.

There was the nub of a branch above me now. I grabbed it, heaved myself up another few paces. It was good progress, but hardly enough.

I was halfway up the stakewall, but the komodo was too close. There wasn’t anything else to do, though.

I jammed my hand into another gap, cursing as the skin on my wrist tore away, then jumped to grab the nub of another sawed-off branch.

The gaps were wider near the top and I wrapped both arms around a tree’s trunk, then shimmied up, using my legs and hips to worm higher, higher.

I was almost there—almost to the top—when the komodo arrived. It twisted its head sideways, opened its jaws wide, and lunged forward.

“Gah!” I jumped, pushing off with all of my strength and reaching a hand toward the top of the stakewall. My fingers brushed it, clenched tight, fought to hold all of my weight.

Impossible. They couldn’t. Splinters tore away from the top and my hand with them.

I slipped backward, fell down, down...

My fall ended abruptly as I landed on something hard. Something warm, with thick, leathery skin. My nose filled with the smell of a heavy, musty stench, tinged with a hint of rotting meat.

I looked down to find two nostrils on either side of me and a long snout, full of bumps and ridges, stretching away. At the base of it, two massive eyes flicked toward me.

I swallowed hard.

A growl boiled up from the komodo’s throat and the thing tilted its head to one side. I fell with it, rolling head over heels, hands clawing at the thing’s skin. But it was too smooth, too firm. I rolled over the edge, feet kicking out into open air, then jerked to a stop.

My hands had found purchase.

Something hot, wet. I looked up to find I was holding on to the lip of the komodo’s nostril.

The komodo growled again, opening its mouth this time and I found myself staring right in, at the tips of massive, curved back teeth waiting to tear me apart.

My vision was filled with the pink, fleshy inside of the creature’s mouth. With the thick, syrupy saliva that hung in oozing strings from the upper jaw. The growl rose louder and reverberated through my entire body. A hot, stinking wave of breath washed over me.

Blood, from my self-inflicted cut and the torn-to-shreds mess that was my hands, ran down my arms, dripped off my elbows and splattered onto the edge of the komodo’s lip.

The jaws clamped shut.

I kicked backward, just pulled my feet out in time. I heaved upward, then planted a foot on the komodo’s jawline, using it like a step to climb higher.

The komodo reared back, shaking its head from side to side. I held on for all I was worth, nails biting into the soft flesh inside the komodo’s nostrils.

The head shook down and my body lifted up, pulling away from the beast, then slammed back into it, the jolt near throwing my grip, but I held on, somehow.

One giant, orange eye with a black pupil stared at me. Its lid closed with a heavy blink, folds of leathery skin slipping down, then opening again.

I scrambled upward, finding a grip and pulling myself up. I wormed on my stomach until I was back on the thing’s snout. The komodo was having none of it.

It dipped its head down, tensed its legs, then flicked its snout upward.

I couldn’t hold on, there was nothing to grab on to. But I didn’t need to.

I planted both feet beneath me, then lunged forward. My jump and the komodo’s force combined to throw me upward and forward. Just enough.

The komodo’s jaws were below, open, waiting, but I didn’t fall into them.

I slammed into the top of the palisade, got an arm over it, then kicked with my feet. They scraped against the bark, tearing it off, but found enough grip.

The camp spun dizzyingly below me as I tilted forward, threw my weight over the edge of the stakewall, and fell to the ground.