“Are you a bandit?” Will asked, pistol in hand, though still lowered.
The man didn’t reply. Rhea’s eyes drifted to the rifle that protruded from his back, then to the formidable blades tipping his long tail.
The man smiled. “In a way, I am.”
“Do you mean us harm?” Horatio pressed.
Another delay. Finally: “No.”
“Of course he’s going to say no,” Will scolded his robot companion. He returned his attention to the man. “Great meeting you and all, dude. That’s some sweet cybernetics you got going on there with the tail. But we’re going to be on our way.”
The man pursed his lips. His hooded head turned toward Rhea. “You saved me. Why?”
“I wasn’t going to watch you die,” Rhea said. “Not when there was a chance I could help you.”
“But you yourself could have died in the process,” the man said.
“I know,” she said.
Rhea noticed the cyborg’s hands were balled, the knuckles white. He was tense. Very tense.
He’s getting ready to attack.
Rhea steeled herself…
But then the man relaxed, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly, and his fingers uncurling. He reached up to lower his hood, revealing a human face stamped onto a cranium that was all metal—upon seeing the latter, she decided he was most likely a full body replacement cyborg after all. His features were hard, and somewhat aristocratic thanks to that bold nose and thick brow. He was handsome in a way, though on second thought a blade could be called handsome, too.
“I will accompany you,” he told them. “At least until we’re out of these woods. We need to stick together for the time being. Because as you said, the Werangs will be back.”
Bardain had told her that Werangs never abandoned kills for very long. Not if they could help it. Apparently, that was common lore among Outlanders.
“Do you know what those things were?” Rhea asked. “The creatures that scared them off?”
“Nope,” the man replied.
“We don’t want you traveling with us,” Will said. “Nor do we need you. We have enough firepower.”
Horatio glanced at him sidelong. “We could always use more.”
“I said we have enough,” Will insisted.
The man shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He turned to go.
“Let him come,” Rhea interjected quickly. “We might need his rifle yet. You saw how well he defended himself out there.” She nodded at the Werang corpses around the base of the oak.
Will frowned, and seemed about to refuse her, but when he glanced at the carcasses, he seemed to have a change of heart. He returned his attention to the man. “What’s your name, stranger?”
“You can call me Sebastian,” the cyborg said.
“All right, well, you can follow us until we’re out of these woods,” Will said. “But we’ve delayed long enough… we really have to move!” He gestured toward the forest to the north. “Lead the way.”
Sebastian took off at a jog, and the others followed. They kept their distance from the man, not wanting to get too close to that tail with its razor-sharp blades. Sebastian drew his rifle from where it was holstered on his back and kept it at the ready in case of attack.
Overhead, Gizmo flew in accompaniment, scouting the path forward.
Rhea heard distant howling coming from the southwest. The Werangs were already on the way back.
“They’ll send a scout to track our scents,” Horatio said.
Will nodded. “We’ll have to kill it if it catches up with us. I’ll have Gizmo alternate between forward and aft positions.”
In her mind’s eye, Rhea could already see the Werang scout advancing underneath the dead trees, all spider-like with those tentacles as it felt out the path the party had taken.
She shuddered and increased her pace.
16
Rhea kept a watchful eye on the leafless skeletons of those trees as they proceeded north. She gazed between them, into the depths of the forest, searching for enemies. The drifts were extremely small here, and they were more on the northern side of the trees, than the east. The small drift sizes were good, because it meant she could see farther without obstruction.
The party had switched to a march after they’d moved well away from the Werangs so that they could better watch their surroundings for signs of ambush. Plus, the lower pace was easier on Will. He was the only true human among them, after all.
Gizmo continued to alternate between the forward and aft positions, but so far didn’t catch sight of any Werang scouts in pursuit, or any other potential adversaries, for that matter. Sometimes the drone had to swoop low to properly inspect areas hidden by the lifeless branches of the trees, to ensure bandits or bioweapons weren’t lurking underneath. There was no guarantee Gizmo would catch everything, of course, hence the general state of alert for everyone involved. The Kargs that had escaped slaughter at the hands—or paws, rather—of the Werangs were still out here, after all.
That was one of the problems of traveling through a forest: while it provided ample places for the party members to conceal themselves if trouble came, it afforded the same benefits to their predators. At the moment, the team wasn’t at all concerned with finding salvage—they just wanted to get out of this forest alive. Not that there was anything to salvage here away.
Rhea glanced at her overhead map. “We’re not going to reach the edge of the forest before nightfall.”
“No,” Will agreed. “We’ll have to camp, at some point.”
“Not looking forward to that,” she said, eying the claw-like branches of a nearby tree with a shudder. She walked in silence for a moment. Then: “The hotspot map was wrong."
Will nodded. “The data for this area was stale by a few
