Page 66 of Heir of Ashes

Relief flickered in Dr. Dean’s eyes. He had been expecting Remo Drammen to double-cross him. The creature behind Remo stretched its legs and yawned, displaying its sharp teeth. Its wings beat, emitting a loud buzzing noise, but it didn’t leave the ground. Remo Drammen didn’t even twitch. Dr. Dean, on the other hand, saw this and quickly looked away.

“Behave,” he said to me, winked, and began to walk away.

That’s when I finally snapped. My already simmering blood boiled like hot mercury. This man had destroyed the better part of my life, inflicting both mental and physical agony, and now he was handing me over to a man who was more of a monster than he ever was, all but whistling as he got away. I didn’t think. I acted—driven by anger, anguish, and despair.

I seized his arm, whirled him around, and twisted it high up his back in one fluid motion, his limp fingers nearly reaching the back of his neck. When he cried out and began to lower himself to ease the pain, I thrust him with all my strength at Remo Drammen, who had just stood there watching. They collided like a bowling ball on a tenpin, crashing hard and falling—right on top of the little creature.

It let out a shriek of outrage—or joy—and from nowhere appeared a dozen more, hurtling toward Remo Drammen and Dr. Dean. They tore at the two with teeth and claws, their high-pitched shrieks forming a discordant chorus against Dr. Dean and Remo Drammen’s screams of pain. Blood flowed everywhere, but no piece of flesh was misplaced.

It was gut-churning. Bile kept rising in my throat, and I kept swallowing it back, caught in a dance between reflexiveinstinct and fear that I might accidentally touch a creature. I backed away slowly, horrified at the scene unfolding less than ten feet in front of me, careful not to bump into or step on one of the many creatures. There seemed to be dozens, with more arriving every second. None touched me, but they came close enough that I had to press my arms against my body to avoid accidental contact. Only when I was sure I had put enough distance between me and the chaos did I allow myself to turn and flee, moving as quickly as I could with a limited view of the land.

Chapter 21

Dr. Dean’s penlight and Remo Drammen’s illumination had long gutted out, though their tortured screams followed me for a long time, even when I was sure they were just echoes in my head. I didn’t even need to close my eyes to replay the bloody carnage; those last moments would haunt my dreams for a long time.

For a while, there was no scuffling, no creatures following me—just the nightmares tormenting my thoughts. I gripped my hair tightly and yanked, trying to dislodge the images. For a few minutes, the pain helped. But then I heard the first scuffling behind me. Despite all the horror I had witnessed, I wasn’t sure if I regretted what I had done. Maybe I should have held back until after I left this land, but then, maybe I was never meant to leave.

I trudged on while the creatures behind me gathered and formed their little procession. I covered miles in what I assumed was the direction I had come from, my body protesting every step, screaming in desperate need for rest. Could the creatures attack an unconscious, inert body? Eventually, fear or not, I’d shut down, no matter what I wanted. As it was, I could scarcely keep myself moving forward, the motion nothing more than an inch-at-a-time shuffle.

I was sure I had retraced my path and surpassed our “landing point” but there was no sign indicating a way back to Earth. No parallel pillars, no lonely tree, no arrow with an exit sign. A part of me kept telling me that magic was my way out, but I refused to believe it. Believing it would mean giving up, surrendering to a fate I wasn’t ready to accept. I didn’t have this magic. I was a predator, not a sorceress.

I used the planets as my guiding star, my proverbial carrot, dangling in front of me, never getting closer, thelandscape never changing. It felt as if I had been moving in circles. I was so exhausted, aching in places I didn’t know I had places to ache. My throat burned from thirst, my stomach growled from hunger, and above all, there was the cold.

On a quick headcount, there were more than ten creatures behind me. I suspected they were the same ones who had followed us, the same ones who had feasted on Dr. Dean and Remo Drammen. They were expecting Round 2. Except I seemed to be the only one on this entire planet who would fit the bill.

Sorry, not gonna happen, fellas.

Some eternity later, a new ache made itself known: my bladder was at full capacity. I needed to pee—desperately. It made me want to cry. So, I did. I let my tears fall, wishing I could cry my urine away. The planets glowed and gloated at me. The creatures’ incessant scuffle played like a twisted lullaby to my ears, urging me to curl up and shut my eyes. Dead branches foretold my future.

“Ah, hell,” I swore and dashed behind a fallen trunk, unable to hold it any longer. I hurriedly pulled down my slacks and crouched to pee. There were thicker branches a little farther away—even a couple of fallen trees—that could have provided better cover, but I was afraid that the creatures would come with me. This way, at least, I was partially hidden.

My relief was so intense that I closed my eyes for a second to enjoy it, but then there was a scuffle. My eyes flew open and fell on the creatures now at an angle to my side. So much for half a private moment.

I counted exactly twelve creatures, including their leader. They formed a ragged semi-circle around it. I was ready to bolt if they came closer, so I put in a little pressure to finish faster. But they didn’t move. They kept a respectful ten feet between us. I peered at the leader, trying to avoid noticing the darkersplotches on his skin and failing miserably. To my relief, most were black or gray, not the rusted brown of dried blood. Despite their lack of expression and body language, I would have sworn they were just as tired and weary as I was. I had never been able to sense the emotions of animals before and wondered if it was something new, or if I’d just never had the chance to experience it until now. Or maybe these creatures weren’t like the animals on Earth.

As soon as my bladder was no longer an issue, my exhaustion, hunger, and thirst hit me all at once. Even after such a brief stop, it took monumental effort to stand up again.

“Guess you guys must experience thirst and hunger all the time, living in a place like this,” I said, a pang of pity tugging at me. “It’s a wonder you haven’t tried to leave this place before. But I suppose if you knew a way out, you’d have used it a long time ago,” I said, not expecting a response, and none was given. “I guess I better watch my back then.” I turned to resume my shuffling.

They stretched their thin, bony legs, readying themselves to follow.

“You know, I’m going to be moving for a while yet, so if you’re tired, just stay behind to rest. I won’t mind.” In the end, I found myself telling them the story of my life.

“That man back there? I hated him. Not the short one, the other one, the tall one. He used me in the worst possible way a woman can be used, you know? Anyway, I don’t know if he deserved to die that way, but I’m glad he’s no longer an issue.” I fell quiet, wondering what that said about me. “I think I’ll just sit and rest for a while and hope I’ll be safe from those sharp teeth of yours. It’s better than falling comatose on top of one of you little creatures. We already know how that story ends.”

I sat and leaned against a dead tree. Its bark was cracked and rough, digging into my back through my thin blouse, feelinglike the best coarse massage. The leader of the creatures stopped and crouched ten feet away. I had the sense they all welcomed the reprieve. Did one of them sigh in relief? I searched their little round faces, but they all bore the same expressionless look. Yet something about them conveyed gratitude. Or I could be hallucinating. Like those dehydrated, poor souls who believe they see an oasis in the middle of a desert. I certainly fit the part—parched and desperate, stranded in the middle of nowhere.

And that’s when I realized I could see. In fact, I’d been seeing clearly for a while now. I looked around in wonder, and I could also see the land—the hard-cracked soil, the occasional dead tree and branch—for as far as my vision could reach.

And it was disappointing to realize my suspicion was true. As far as I could see, there was nothing but the desolate landscape, cracked soil, me, and my band of vicious, carnivorous followers. I looked up at the sky for the source of light, maybe a mini sun. There was none. The sky was still as black as ever, the planets still as far as before. Could my vision have adjusted that much to the darkness? Nah, I didn’t think so, especially since I could see all the way to the horizon where land met sky.

How long had I been able to see the land?

I’d been moving for a long time with my eyes glued to the ground, avoiding rocks and branches, that it was hard to tell. In a place where the sun never rose or set, time had no meaning.

Was it warmer? What? Daytime in the land of death? I was still cold, but no longer freezing. Either I was getting used to it, or my limbs had numbed enough to stop feeling the chill. The lack of wind also helped.

Wasn’t numbness a symptom of hypothermia? I was too tired to figure things out, too drained to think straight. Too tired to care.

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