White pinpoints of light drew near and moved with purpose. It seemed the guards knew exactly where we were. I wondered how they’d followed us and suspected they had a sense of smell like a canine. There were enough of them that even with our attempts to lose them, they still could have tracked us.
The lights came closer, sparkling like distant stars through the trees, vines, and other vegetation. The woman shifted a little, and I looked over my shoulder. She was staring straight at me, but there was no sign of fear or sound of whimpering. She was strong.
I’d saved her, but I’d also just hamstrung myself. I’d taken on a responsibility that would hinder my ability to survive.
I taught my students that survival was the first priority. The second priority was helping the others in their unit survive. If they ever mixed those two up—started watching out for others before themselves—both they and their fellow squadmates were likely to die.
Likewise, lifeguards were trained to subdue drowning people; otherwise, they could be dragged beneath the water themselves. If that happened, both would die, all because the professional worried about the other person more than themselves. The same was true in survival… and I’d broken the rule.
Why? Had the Lakunae done something to my mind? No, that couldn’t be it. Freeing Skrew and rescuing the woman had been my own choice, not a foreign motivation implanted in my mind by the squids.
The first guard emerged into the small clearing holding one of the torches. The light source restricted my night vision and made it almost impossible to make out my enemies. When another, then two more, and what looked like 10 more, emerged, the light had me completely blinded. So, I quit relying on my eyes, closed them, and listened.
“You,” a guard growled, “have committed high crime. You have invited torture, pain, and death. Surrender now and return slave to me.”
It seemed that barely intelligible words wasn’t a trait of their species. I figured Skrew’s namesake might have actually had some truth to it.
I understood their language well enough, so I searched for the most insulting word I could think of. When I found it, I displayed one finger on each hand and spat the word in the direction of the threatening voice. I must have picked the right one because there were gasps from the other guards before several of them charged.
I listened as time seemed to slow. I knew how tall their kind were. I knew how long their strides were.
One step. They’d be close, but not close enough.
Two steps. Close, but just a little bit closer.
Just before the third step landed, I dropped to the ground and swept out hard with my foot. I felt three impacts, heard bones snap, and allowed the sweep to spin me all the way around until I was back on my feet. I opened my eyes and found three vrak casualties screaming on the ground, clutching their broken legs.
It was a good start.
The lights threatened to blind me as I picked a screaming guard up by his head and tossed him toward one of the torches. There was a wet thump as the guard I’d thrown collided with one of his friends. A torch spun twice in the air and fell to the ground. The light wasn’t so blinding now that I’d neutralized four vraks carrying torches.
I snatched another screaming guard at my feet just as I heard the ominous whir of capacitors charging. They’d brought a rifle. Maybe more than one. Instead of tossing the guard, I used him as a meat-shield and charged toward the sound of death.
A guard with a rifle fired a panicked shot over my head, barely missing his comrade in front of me. The next time, they met was a bone-crunching reunion.
Another rifle-wielding guard didn’t start charging it until I’d killed the first one. His fault, not mine. He was hiding behind a nearby trunk, so I pushed hard against the tree, and it gave way under my newfound strength. His torch flickered out as the weight of the trunk turned his skeleton into mulch.
Another vrak charged me with claws so long they could have been knives. He swung his taloned hand in a wide arc. I caught his wrist, stopping his attack mid-swing. I used his hand to play the old “quit punching yourself” game. His talons raked over his own face, and the guard went down in a heap. His face looked like a pizza someone had beaten to death with a bicycle chain.
I heard the old woman gasp and turned to see her standing on a lengthy branch. She was staring at me from beneath her hood. She probably thought I was some kind of monster, destroying these aliens with my bare hands, and I would have agreed. Except the Lakunae’s gift had just saved our lives, and it would keep saving them until I dealt with every last one of these guards.
They hadn’t made another move. They were all watching me like the woman. They gestured and challenged each other to fight me. I’d taken out the only ones with rifles, and all they had now were long knives made of scrap metal.
Two guards finally took up the challenge and charged me, their shadows giving them away long before they could close the distance. I rolled backward and heard their knives cut the air above me before I landed on my feet.
One turned to face me. The other was looking up into the tree the old woman was hiding in.
“No!” I roared.
The first guard snarled at me as he held up a clawed hand. His tiny eyes widened when I went straight for him instead of trying to evade his filthy claws.
He stabbed straight at me, but I saw it coming, bent backward, allowed my feet to slide, and caught his arm with my hand. I kicked him in the stomach hard—too hard, I
