Page 34 of Necromancers Don't Raise

I sprinted forward and then jerked back. I heard her cursing as she shot the rock behind me in a messy splatter. I continued running, making sure to hit every single measly target, including the tiny one inside a rock that you couldn’t see, but he’d shown it on the video demo, so I’d assume something was in there.

I was almost to the end of the course when Retta came from nowhere, hitting me on my back and knocking me rolling off the path and into nothing. I still managed to shoot the target on the way down, and then the one on the opposite side of the ravine that I was supposed to cross using the bridge.

There was no net.

I hit the water with my back, hands still raised to shoot. I kicked up hard enough to keep the guns out of the water. Not my head. I came up sputtering, blowing out water while I blinked and tried to reorient myself with the river pulling me downstream.

I couldn’t afford to lose more time. Holding my guns high in one hand, I swam with my other arm and my legs. Armored clothing was heavy, but the river wasn’t wide. Soon I was throwing my guns up on the bank and scrambling after them. I holstered them on my back while I caught my breath, shivering and heart racing from the shock of the icy cold underground river. I took one steadying breath before I grabbed onto my first handhold on the rock wall. They were slightly illuminated with the purple fluorescent. Otherwise, I’d be sunk. Maybe I’d throw myself in the river and see if I came out in a sewer. Shudder. It hadn’t been long enough to think that was a funny joke. No, I seriously hated cold, dark water.

Visibility wasn’t good down there. That was an understatement. Still, I was on the side of the river I wanted to be on.

I was pretty sure Retta attacking me like that hadn’t been on the list of acceptable activities, but only shooting was specifically against the rules. I really, really wanted to shoot Retta. Was she trying to kill me? I could have drowned if I’d hit my head on a rock and lost consciousness, but she was treating me like…Did Goblins try to kill each other for fun? It would be so much fun to kill her.

I wasn’t usually resentful or angry, but hearing I was demonic snapped something. Or maybe it was my mother refusing to believe me when I was standing right in front of her. Or maybe it was thinking about Retta having that shirtless picture of Mercury tucked inside her armored vest. Did he give it to her?

I snarled and climbed faster, digging in like I was a goblin, ignoring my bleeding fingers and knee that had hit hard coming down and was starting to throb. It was fine. If I could regrow a nose and some fingers, I’d definitely be able to shake off some small injuries. My knee really hurt, though. I could feel it swelling, getting red and tight.

Finally, I reached the top and rolled onto the path, shot the target floating over the river and the one behind me. I’d missed two near the bridge, but I might be able to get them further along the path where it was higher and overlooked the river again. I broke into a jog, ignoring my knee, although it almost gave out a few times. Why wasn’t I regenerating more quickly?

I forced myself on, but I started limping badly, and you can’t run well with a limp. I hesitated at a part where I had to climb up through a narrow passage. Could I get up that without a fully functioning knee? Not likely. Then again, I was almost to the finish line. Just to the top of this crag, ride a zip line across another ravine, and then if I could make the landing without plummeting to my death, I’d be there.

Retta was still somewhere, probably waiting for me near the zip line, because if she could mess up that ride, I’d be done. I had to be so careful. I wasn’t going to win, but I needed to make it with as many targets as possible, and to make it on my own two feet instead of having Max come rescue me.

I might not be Cassandra Clarence who could wave her hand and have the world at her feet, but I could finish this race, so I would. Carefully, painstakingly, I pulled myself up the last ten feet, through a narrow chimney that required bracing on both sides until I levered myself to the top and then rolled out onto the last landing. I lay on my back, breathing hard, then looked up over my shoulder and shot those two targets I’d missed earlier. That was good then. But if I fell over backwards right this second, I’d fall into the river again.

I shuddered and rolled forward, into a crouch, then started moving, using my hands in a crouch-crawl to keep my knee from taking too much weight. I had to stand to get another target. From that position, I could see the other side, the zipline platform and the deep drop into darkness beyond.

I looked around, even though there was no point. Was she gone already, or had she stuck around to witness my slowness, or to make me fail again? She hadn’t shot any more paintballs at me, but the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. I felt like I had a target painted on my back. Good thing my shirt was armored.

I slowly made my way around the outcropping and finally reached the zipline platform. I looked around carefully, but there was no sign of Retta, and that area was lit well enough that I should have seen her if she was close enough to mess up this route. I checked the wires, checked the pulley system, but everything seemed to be in order. The finish line was right there, on the edge of the ledge in purple fluorescent, just waiting for me, and then I could go home with Bones, ice my knee, and watch tv until my eyes fell out of my sockets.

There were two targets in the ravine between the platform and the ledge, but I’d be holding onto two handles while I was supposed to shoot them. I’d have to hook my knee over one handle if I was going to shoot stuff, which meant I’d be hanging upside down.

It would be fine. If I died, I’d come right back. I took a deep breath, grabbed the handles, looped my good knee over one side, and then kicked off. That’s when I discovered that Retta had greased those handlebars like the oily goblin she was. I thought I’d checked them, but not well enough. I struggled to keep my grasp on the bar, but when I twisted to aim at the first target, my balance shifted too much, and my hand slid right off the handle, leaving me falling sideways.

I twisted midair, shot the other target, and then fell.

“NO!” I screamed until I hit a net, bouncing five times while Retta’s laughter echoed from above me.

I could barely make out the silhouette of her head high up there, where I should be right this second, instead of at the bottom of another pit. At least the net was better than the icy river. Still, I should have realized that the bars were greased. What was wrong with me?

“Good game,” Retta called with a friendly nod. “I’ll tell Max to get a harness and pull you out.”

I snarled and rolled until the net ended and I fell, landing on more solid rock. Ow. I dragged myself upright and then made my way to the wall. Again.

“It’s not over,” I said as I dug my fingers into the stone’s cracks.

“It’s over. You played a good game, nothing to be ashamed of, but it’s definitely over. You can’t climb that wall. You’re an injured human. Wait for Max to get you. He’s a very attractive werewolf, and in the shape you’re in, he’ll let you flirt with him. I’d make the most of it, if I were you.”

I blocked her out and focused on the climb. This cliff didn’t have handy neon lights to illuminate the most likely holds, but that was okay because there was a long crack that ran up most of the face, so I just jammed my swollen fingers into it and hauled myself up. I was a demonic goblin. I could do this.

“She’s climbing,” she said, sounding bemused. “She might not know when to quit.”

And she didn’t know when to shut up. I grimaced as I scraped my face on a jagged bit I hadn’t seen. Because I couldn’t see in the dark, and now with blood running into my eyes from my forehead, I could see even less.

“If you fall, make sure to throw yourself backwards so you land on the net. Otherwise…”

“So helpful,” I gritted, lunging up again and pulling myself up. The crack widened, and I was actually able to get some grip while I scrabbled with my feet for purchase. I made better time until the crack opened up and I was able to get my whole body in, leaning my back against one side while I braced myself with my feet. I was running on pure adrenaline and anger, because if I made it to the top, I wouldn’t really lose.

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