I hadn’t even broken a sweat. If I kept this up, I’d probably have to start worshipping the Lakunae like Colonel Goswin did.
Fat chance.
The other guard must have thought his comrade had killed me because he didn't even turn his head as I marched toward him. He harassed the old woman, taunting her with his knife-like claws. I focused my anger on the coward and charged. The guard froze, dropped his hands in act of submission, and whimpered. I almost felt bad for him… almost.
The guard squeaked when I grabbed his neck and lifted him from the ground. He gave up his plea for mercy and punched me with two of his fists. His other two were busy trying to loosen my fingers enough to breathe. I squeezed, watched his eyes bug out, and felt his spine crunch under his thick flesh.
I didn’t feel bad. Not even a little. This was my duty as a Martian.
Suddenly, the rest of the guards grew some balls. My guess was that since ones and twos didn’t work, they thought that an all-out attack would overpower me.
I waited. It was as though I could sense how far away they were. I could hear every footstep, every breath, and every foot stomping the undergrowth.
They were five paces away. I held my breath.
Four. My knuckles whitened as I clenched them into fists.
Three. I planted my feet, twisted my torso, and swung the dead vrak.
Rather than act as a baseball bat, the corpse’s body tore loose from its head. As I clutched the mangled skull in my hands, the body smashed into two of the guards. They were torn from their feet, and, before they could stand, I delivered two swift jabs that punctured their skulls.
With the corpse’s head still in my hand, I tossed it at a vrak who’d thought he could get me from behind. The head caught the surprised vrak square in his stomach, and it knocked him over like a pin in an old-fashioned bowling alley.
Four of the five remaining guards jumped on me and started climbing me like spider monkeys. I started tearing them off before one of them could sink a claw into me. I grabbed one in my left hand, and another in my right, before I smashed their heads together like a pair of coconuts. Well, I’d never actually seen coconuts except for in holovids, but their skulls certainly shattered like I’d seen in the movies.
I snatched another vrak by the head before he could drive his claws into my side. I pulled him apart like a piece of candy. His top half and bottom half came away in a shower of blood. The final vrak must have gotten the picture, because he unlatched himself from me and started to sprint away. I picked up a small stone, almost a third the size of my palm, and pulled my arm back. I closed one eye, took aim, and hurled it toward the fleeing vrak. The stone smashed into his spine and punched out the other side.
Who needed rifles when every object was a weapon? I’d have to thank the Lakunae if I ever saw them again. I figured a silent prayer wouldn’t cover it.
Somewhere behind me, I heard Skrew cheer and use a word so foul it was usually reserved for special occasions. I guessed the occasion was special enough.
There was one other vrak guard remaining, but he’d vanished. I saw no sign of him, but I could smell his sweat. It was sweet and almost pleasant, which was all kinds of weird. I followed the scent to a tree and circled around it.
“Stay there, pink-skin!” he cried as he raised a rifle. He hadn’t had a firearm before, so I figured he’d grabbed it from a fallen comrade. His hands were shaking as he raised it. By the unsure look in his eyes and the way he held the weapon, it was probably the first time he’d handled a rifle. One shot, and he’d probably lose an eye from the recoil. The training among the vrak guard regiment was abysmal.
I doubted he’d even be able to hit me, but I’d seen half-blind men get lucky at the range.
The vrak stared back at me, and the longer we stood there, the more his hands trembled. I took a step toward him and bared my teeth like a hungry carnivore. He whimpered and dropped the rifle.
I considered sparing him and tying him up so that the search party could find him later, but then he had a surge of courage. He swung a clawed hand for my face, and I swatted it away. The mere act of deflecting his blow popped his arm from his socket, and I delivered a punch of my own. My fist caved in his skull like paper and splattered brains over the jungle floor.
“Jacob be strong!” Skrew pumped all four of his fists as he emerged from behind a tree.
You got that right.
I’d cleaned up these vrak like they were cattle at the slaughter. I almost felt bad for them, but then the old woman dropped down from the tree. She’d been a slave for months, and yet she’d still had the strength to climb and hide.
There was something about her, but I couldn’t quite place it. Her face was hidden behind her hood, so I couldn’t see her expression. I couldn’t tell whether she was frightened of me, but from the way she glanced over the jungle floor, bloodied and smattered with a collection of vrak body parts, I figured she was absolutely terrified.
Note to self: next time you rescue someone, try not to make yourself seem like a worse monster than the slaver you rescued them from.
Still, the brutality had served its purpose, and it would continue to serve me. This new strength would help me find any
