Or am I?
As if in completely contrast to my thoughts, Hadone grips his war-hammer and actually strides towards the Scorp ship. I rush forward, grabbing his forearm. I can’t come close to wrapping my entire hand around his arm, but he at least slows as I yank him back.
Hadone spins around and growls at my touch… Then his snarl softens, and he stares at me with those green-flecked eyes.
Wait, I thought Aurelians only have slate-grey eyes?
I push the thought out of my head. These three men are nothing like the Aurelians I’ve heard about. I shake my head, pointing north. We have to go around this egg sac – not seek out a suicidal fight!
Hadone looks like he’s aching for the glory of battle, and doesn’t even care what happens to himself if he bites off more than he can chew. As I touch his arm, I look into his eyes and I suddenly see something darker within them.
I realize there’s a stress behind his gaze – as though Hadone has already decided he’s not going to make it out of this place alive.
He’s not afraid of that fate, though – quite the opposite. It’s as if he yearns for something more – something so great he’s actually afraid of it.
His eyes widen at my touch, and then Hadone pulls sharply back, his lips peeling away from his teeth in a snarl. There’s a primal beastliness to his features.
I don’t care. If Hadone can get me out of here safely, with all four orphans, I’ll forgive everything that Aurelians have ever done to my people.
Hadone jerks his head left, indicating that we should continue moving in that direction. A frisson runs down my spine as he pulls himself away from my touch. Every second we waste, Tyler and Runner could be in further danger.
Or they already are. They might be in that egg sac already, at the mercy of the Scorp Queen. Oh, Gods - I can’t even think of that!
We head north, stealthily and as fast as Stacy and Tod’s little legs can take them. I even consider picking them up and carrying them at one point, but our stride is careful – taking care not to make sound. It’s better to be safe than fast.
That much soon becomes apparently as we pass an alleyway and the sudden noise of movement within announces danger.
I grab my wrench harder, turning to face the threat. The Aurelians circle around to protect me, placing their huge bodies between me and whatever caused the menacing sound...
…then, from between the broad backs of the alien warriors, I see a cat running from the alleyway, cans and garbage tumbling in its furry wake.
Hadone laughs under his breath, and I don’t like the sound. This isn’t the time or place for jokes, and I don’t see how he can find anything funny right now.
We continue on – making our way further north to the abandoned hospital that the four orphans once had a second home in. We go in through the front doors and I glance at the long-abandoned front desk; imagining what it might have been like when there was a busy, stressed-out receptionist sitting there, trying to manage the waves of people coming in for the ER.
Back then, long before I was born, this hospital was a place to go if you were sick or hurt. Now, unless you lived in the Capital, you were shit out of luck.
Hell, even in the Capital you need enough money to pay for treatment, or the hospitals themselves would happily let you die in the streets.
I suddenly freeze in my tracks. Up ahead there’s a Scorp warrior, crushed beneath a fallen beam but still struggling to get up. Forn moves with brutal violence, his feet soft as a mountain cat as he strides over to the beast.
The Scorp’s long tail flicks forward and I gasp in horror. One prick of that barb and Forn will be writhing in lethal pain.
Yet, incredibly, Forn’s hand darts forward and actually grabs that darting tail; clenching his fist around it just beneath the dripping, venomous barb.
With a slash of his Orb-Dagger, he slices the venomous barb clean off. Then he ducks forward and slits the Scorp’s throat.
I shudder at the ease with which these Aurelians kill. It’s both reassuring, and terrifying.
Trying to get the sight of death from my memory, I swallow hard – remembering instead that there’s only one way up to the higher floors of the hospital.
The elevators have long since rotted away, and the second set of stairs completely caved in years ago. Scavengers picked away everything of value in this abandoned hospital, including the support beams.
That’s why the four orphans made a second home here, despite my protests about the rusty nails and the moldy floorboards that I constantly worry they will collapse beneath them.
Yet it wasn’t an entirely bad strategy. This hospital has been abandoned for so long that the easy pickings are long gone – and today, most vagrants avoid the place due to the creepy, abandoned “mental facility” vibe.
Apparently, even the homeless have standards – and there are many more inviting abandoned buildings to squat in.
Or were, I should say. Before today.
Stacy rushes towards the stairway. “No! I’m going first,” I his sternly, and she stops right in her tracks, looking back at me.
Poor Stacy’s used to living a wild and free life, with nobody to boss her around. Aside from myself, adults are a constant danger to her. It sickens me, but I know there are predators out there who view a small girl as an easy target.
Stacy is still frozen on the spot, but she’s biting her lip – as if considering ignoring my
