As the booms continue, dust falls from the ceiling, landing in my hair.
“I’ve fought Scorp before, Tammy.” It’s Edgar, and I’m not sure if he’s trying to reassure me, or convince himself. “Hold it together. We’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Edgar might be saying it’s all going to be okay, but the way he clutches his rifle harder demonstrates that he doesn’t believe it.
He’s lying to me, and to himself.
And the worst thing? We both know it. We both know that no one can stand up to that many vicious, rampaging Scorp.
Unless, by some miracle, the troops of the Capital are screaming this way right now in their heli-ships, every citizen of Barl is going to be dragged by Scorp warriors to that ‘fate worse than death’ I was just talking about.
I stare at Edgar’s rifle, and he looks down at it slowly. If it’s the choice between a bullet to the skull and being dragged – kicking and screaming – into a Scorp ship, I know which one I’d choose. Those dragged before a Scorp Queen were first crippled, and then held down – to be impregnated by the Queen’s eggs. Once inside you, those eggs would soon hatch and release hundreds of squirming larvae, who’d begin devouring your still living body from within…
Hell, no. I’d take the bullet any day.
I swallow hard, but my mouth is dry. I grip the wrench tighter, and anger flares through me.
No, dammit! No! I’ll not take the easy way out.
I’ll fight until my last fucking breath!
Then the true panic hits me. I’d only been thinking of my own life, selfishly. Then I remember that there are four children who depend on me. The street kids live in the abandoned building three blocks down. Stacy, Tod, Tyler and Runner have been able to survive on the mean streets of Barl, but they won’t last a second against Scorp warriors.
Those street brats might not be my biological children, but I still feel a deep responsibility for them. I run towards the door, willing to brave the danger of the streets if they’re at stake…
…but Edgar suddenly grabs my arm and yanks me to a halt.
“I know what you’re trying to do, Tammy – but if you go out there, I can’t keep you safe. You’re no fucking use to them dead, you understand?”
I know I must look wild and crazy, but I have to convince Edgar this is a rational choice. I try to think up an argument, but if words fail… then the wrench in my hand will have to do the trick instead.
Nothing is going to stop me from helping those four orphaned children – who are probably quaking in fear this very moment. If the price of reaching them it to knock Edgar out… Well, it’ll probably be more merciful to him than facing the Scorp while conscious, anyway.
“Edgar, I have to help them. I have to. They’re out there, alone. They… They don’t know what a Scorp attack is like. They won’t survive without me!” My voice has a dark, stressed tone to it, and I know how desperate I must sound.
Edgar shakes his head and looks me straight in the eye. “You’re not thinking straight, Tammy. You know as well as I do that those four troublemakers are scattered all over the city during the day. You have no idea where any of them are right now – but they know where you work. They’ll come here, Tammy. When they do, you need to be here to help them. They trust you.”
I hate that his words make sense. I can’t honestly tell if he’s saying this because it’s the truth, or just because he knows it’s the one argument that will stop me from charging out of the door with nothing but a wrench to fight off the Scorp horde.
All I do know is that he’s saying it because he cares. No matter how gruff Edgar is in the shop, or how badly he insults or pushes me to work faster, he’s always been protective of me.
But what if the kids don’t come here? What if they’re hiding out in some nook or cranny, quivering in fear? What if they run back to their home in the abandoned building to hide out?
A thousand ‘what if’ questions cloud my mind. I imagine instead the only thing I do know for sure – the image of those Scorp Warriors pouring out of their huge organic ships, their pincer claws ripping through the thick webbing of their vessels, rending holes for the beasts to wriggle out of into the freedom of our world.
Once loose, those loathsome creatures will snatch up any still-living humans to drag back to their Queen.
When Edgar sees that I’m not going to run out, he releases my arm. Rifle in one hand, he crosses the room and latches the door shut with the other – sealing it with a finality that feels like the closing of a coffin.
“Tammy, they will come here. If… I mean when they knock, I’ll open the door. Anybody or anything else that touches that door, though – the first fucking thing they’ll have going through their mind is a bullet.” Edgar’s voice is a grim premonition. He holds the rifle in his practiced hands.
As full of bluster as Edgar is, he knows how to use that thing. I wouldn’t want to be the first Scorp Warrior to rush through the door. Anything coming through there is going to be dead in Edgar’s sights.
A sudden wave of premature guilt hits me. If, somehow, I manage to survive this attack – but those four children don’t – I know I’ll experience the true meaning of darkness.
If I survive.
If.
2
Forn
I tear a bite of flesh from the fresh kill, relishing in the flavor of the bloody meat in my mouth. It has none of the acrid flavor of the game near our jungle home. Lately, kills in the jungle
