Year 216 Post Fall
Rain fell from the darkening sky.
Galin frowned as he pulled the hood of his grey rain jacket tighter. The rain had an icy bite that left one cold to the core. Such effort was undone by the shifting of the winds sending icy pin pricks into his face.
“Bloody rain!”
Galin turned away from the wind and cupped a hand to shield his eyes as he scanned the horizon for his fellow scout. Ren was supposed to have returned from scouting the edges of the ruined city.
Once more, Galin wondered who he pissed off to get such a shit detail. Sure, he loved exploring the wilds. He grew up on a farm and held great pride in his family’s contribution to the Phoenix Bastion. No, what bothered Galin was being assigned a scouting mission this late into Fall. The rains were all but guaranteed to arrive in the middle of such a scouting trip.
The wind turned direction again. Once more Galin turned away with a grumble dragging his eyes across the bony limbs of trees ahead of him. A flicker of motion gave him pause.
There on the limb of a tree wafting on the flow of the wind was a simple twine piece, wrapped in the knot Ren used for marking the trail.
“Not lost after all…” muttered Galin as he set down the game trail looking for further signs.
He picked his way warily down the trail, eyes darting from the growing jagged shadows of twilight. Again, he found his hands drifting to his hunting knife, finding comfort in its presence. In a smooth and practiced motion, he drew his blade and made three shallow marks on the trunk of the tree. A sign for Ren to return to their camp should they miss each other.
“I swear she cheated. That’s three times now I’ve gotten stuck with preparing the camp.” He complained while ducking under a tree limb. “Next time we’re flipping a bloody coin!”
Onward he continued down the trail, shoulders hunched under the weight of his traveling pack. Every dozen strides he would pause examining his surroundings before spotting the next mark left by Ren. All the while his hand stayed on the handle of his knife, thumbing the pommel of his knife. Occasionally, his hand would drift to check the metal bracelet on his left wrist was still present, a nervous tick that many scouts developed.
Onward this continued. Stride a dozen steps forward. Pause. Examine. Mark the trail. Rub the metal bracelet. Continue.
Such was the repetitive pattern of exploring that Galin hardly noticed the rain ease up. It was only when the sounds of the forest grew quiet with the soft drizzle of rain that he noticed the change.
Something was amiss.
A cold shiver ran up his spine, one different from the biting cold rain. His hand drifted back to his knife as the other pulled back his hood. He brushed his dark brown hair past his ear and cupped his hand there.
He leaned forward straining his ears. The patter of dwindling rain drops made it difficult to hear, but there in the distance was an irregular gurgling noise.
Panic spiked through his system as hundreds of possibilities flew through his mind. Several were dismissed outright as fear plaguing his mind from being out of the Bastion for so long. But one thought drifted to the forefront of his mind.
A memory of hunting dear in the forest as a child. The humiliation and guilt of a missed shot caused the deer to suffer as it choked on blood flooding its lungs from a poorly aimed shot.
His eyes narrowed as he thought. Best case scenario: Ren found dinner. Worst case scenario: Dinner found Ren.
He set his shoulders and stepped forward gingerly. Eyes picked out places to walk devoid of underbrush that could give away his position as he edged closer to the gurgling sound from earlier.
Soon he came upon a clearing with a crumpled mass of fur and blood. His eyes darted around the mess looking for signs of Ren. They were drawn back as the mangled mess let out a final death rattle before settling into the stillness of death.
His hackles rose as the forest seemed to grow quiet with the death shudder. His own breathing caught in his throat as the silence gave way to ringing in his ears followed by the ever-increasing rhythmic pulse of blood.
A snapped twig sent him twirling about as he brought his hunting knife in between himself in the noise poised to strike.
“Easy there, Galin!” shouted Ren, her face sporting a grin. “What’s got ya so spooked?”
The tension drained from his body as he shuddered a deep breath before shouting back, “Who says I’m spooked!?”
Ren chuckled before raising an eyebrow and gesturing to his hunting knife. “Oh, nothing at all says ya spooked right there. Ya just got ya trusty knife in ya hand is all.”
Galin sheathed the blade quickly before standing up to his full height to look down on Ren. “I’m just being careful.”
His eyes drifted back to the mangled mess behind him. “Not spooked at all…”
Ren followed Galin’s gaze to the bloody mess before whistling appreciatively. “That’s a mighty mess there. What d’ya suppose did that?”
A mischievous grin cracked her face. “It sure as shit weren’t ya.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Galin shook his head. “I don’t know. At first, I thought this may have been you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, a bloody mess covered in fur sure seems like you.”
Ren blinked before twisting her face in anger, “Why ya bloody-“
“But then I thought you caught us dinner!” he hurriedly interrupted. “Left me joyous thinking I wouldn’t have to do any more of the chores for tonight.”
Ren squinted at him daring him to lie some more. “You’re full of it, Galin. Besides, between the two of us. I’m the artist with the blade while you’re just the bumbling fool!”
Galin sighed to himself. Shouldn’t have picked a fight with her. Nerves have been getting to me. Been out here too far from home and too close to these damned ruins.
He lifted a placating hand to calm her down. “You’re right. You are an artist with a blade, and I was a fool to think I could ever beat you.”
Ren perked up at this grinning from ear to ear. “Exactly right! Now that ya know ya place, how about another game of dice tonight to det-”
Rustling in the distance drew their attention as they dropped their banter. Quietly and quickly, they came back towards each other setting their backs to each other while scanning the forest. They crouched low to the ground, each drawing their knives.
Again, the forest appeared eerily quiet as the rustling grew closer. A steady cadence of breathing descended upon the two as a chuffing noise accompanied the approaching noise.
Galin nudged Ren and pointed to where he pinpointed the source of their concern. There at the edge of the clearing prowled a beast of unknown origins. A head like a large furless canine covered in crimson leathery skin with golden eyes tracking their every movement. Sinewy legs guided the beast into the clearing as it prowled around the two scouts. Three times it circled them before making its way to the bloody mess that Galin had happened upon.
Several times it tilted its head as it examined them before dipping its head to eat its prize. All the while Galin and Ren stood still, unsure of how to act with the unknown creature.
“What’s the play, Boss?” hissed Ren.
Boss?! Now I’m the boss when shit hits the fan? Galin comforted himself with the banter in his head as he answered softly, “Now we slowly back away and head back to camp. Slow and steady. Arm up at camp and prepare for emergency evac.”
Both Galin and Ren checked their left wrists for their metal bracelets. Galin chanced pulling his eyes from the beast as he whispered to Ren, “Slow and steady out of the clearing. Go.”
The moment they moved the beast stopped eating and locked eyes with them. It licked its mouth to clear the stains away while watching the two stand up. When they took a step toward the trail, it too stood up. Another step saw the beast following suit.
Galin readied his knife towards the beast while keeping his back to Ren. He reached behind and grabbed the tail end of her verdant rain jacket. “Slow steps forward. I’ve got your back, just guide us out of the circle before this fucker attacks.”
Again, they moved. Step by step they made their way back to the trail. Every step of the way shadowed by the crimson beast staring them down its head tilting from time to time.
What the hell is this thing?! A mutated wolf or some-
The beast stopped in its track and suddenly let out an ear-splitting howl. Around them in five different directions were howls of a similar nature.
Galin felt a tug at his arm as Ren’s rain jacket tore free from his grip. He blinked in confusion at his empty hand before looking towards the sound of Ren’s rapid steps.
She left me.
He blinked in exasperation.
She fucking left me!
That’s all he had to process as a blur of crimson motion lunged at him closing the distance far faster than he had anticipated. Instinct brought his arms up in a cross guard as the beast’s jaw closed on his knife and the left sleeve of his rain jacket. He jerked his knife towards the eye of the beast earning himself a bloody forearm gash as the beast released him.
Turning he began to run before being brought to a jerky halt from the beast gaining purchase on the tail of his jacket. Adrenaline flooded his body sending him into flight mode as he twisted out of his jacket abandoning it to the beast.
The trees blurred past him as Galin gulped the air moving faster than he had in years. More howls could be heard closing in on him. Movement from the right had him dashing left.
Again, he ran in a blind panic, arms pumping in stride with his legs. Flashes of silver caught the dying rays of light on the band of his bracelet from his arms flailing about in his mad dash.
Beacon.
Training.
Remember your training you dumb fuck and send the damn signal!
His right arm flew to the back of his belt for his emergency radio. He fumbled the first two attempts at pulling out the radio in his awkward run for his life. On the third attempt he managed to free the contraption.
A howl in front signaled pursuers in front, he turned to his right only to change to his left as two more howls came from that direction. They’re closing in on me! He slid the safety cover off his emergency radio beacon, held the dead man switch and triggered the beacon.
Three short chirps and a long beep sounded off the beacon.
Sixty seconds! I just need to stay alive for sixty seconds!
Galin tried to take comfort in his training. He had to have faith that the beacon would reach the forward operating base. He had to believe that the summoner on duty was following protocol.
He started counting down in his head as his lungs and body burned from overexertion.
Fifty!
Crimson blurs flanked him as he vaulted over a fallen log.
Forty-five!
He glanced longingly at the upper branches of some of the trees whipping by.
Forty, maybe I could climb…
He chanced a glance behind and immediately tumbled to the ground as one of the beasts lurched over him.
Thirty! That’s got to be thirty seconds. Oh god I don’t want to die!
He tried to pick himself up and continue running. He took two steps before being tackled back to the ground. Blood spurted from his sides where jaw met unprotected flesh.
He felt his body go numb as thrashed his limbs at his assailant. Another blow came from behind as a beast slashed at his back. Tears streamed down his face as he curled into the fetus position. He tucked his left arm towards his chest and squeezed himself into as tight of a ball as he could. The rending of flesh sent sharp jagged pain that quickly went numb with every passing second.
Ten, God let it be less than ten seconds. Please!
An eternity seemed to pass as time seemed to slow to a crawl, his agony extending into all of existence.
Where? Where is it!? Please hurry!
Then finally he felt the surge of vitava through him. A soothing flow of energy, the feeling of life itself flowed deep into every pore of his being. He felt euphoric for but a split second before the flow of vitava stopped and locked onto every piece of his being.
I’m safe. They have me. I’m going to live!
The Pull began to draw him away from the crimson beasts feasting on his flesh.
I made it!
The vitava lurched to a halt. Galin blinked in shock. The flow of vitava reversed and seemed to anchor through the crimson beasts. He wasn’t being pulled away. He was stuck. He knew it in his body through and through. There was no escape for him.
A cry of anguish tore free from him as he dropped his arms opening himself to a killing blow.
“Fu-!”
A crimson beast tore through his throat causing him to collapse into a puddle of his own blood.
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The summoner at the base blinked in confusion. He felt the vitava halt in his pull. Something was pulling against his emergency summons. He looked to the bloodied female scout.
“What happened out there?”