Page 10 of Shifter King
"Will you put me down?"
"No." He held her a little closer, savoring the warmth of her frail form, relishing the sensation of each breath.
"This is going to make cleaning out the bunker awkward." She leaned back and raised her eyebrow at him. The faux energy in her voice did not even start to fool him.
"You shouldn't be cleaning." There was life in her eyes though. Beautiful determined stubborn life. She'd live if only to spite death for thinking it could drag her beyond the veil. How many times had she infuriated him? Thank whatever goodness remained she had not lost that fight.
He set her down, then stepped back, his hand lingering at the small of her back. She barely weighed anything now; that galled him as much as anything. His wife, his veskaro, his most beloved of all had practically shriveled to little more than skin and bone under his watch.
She caught hold of his hand, holding it surprisingly tight. "I am all right," she said firmly, peering up at him with an almost perturbed firmness. "I promise…you big scorpion. Now are you going to show me around this bunker, or do I need to figure out the floor plan on my own?"
Some of this was a show she was putting on for his benefit, some for hers. He didn't mind the pretense all that much so long as she rested when the time came. He cupped his hand beneath her elbow. "This way, veskaro."
This square room that allowed access to the ladder and primary entrance was large enough for several people fully armed to lie in wait. The door to the rest of the bunker was as thick as the primary external door had been from what he could see. Most of it had slid into the wall and was now completely locked in place.
"What are those?" Amelia crouched beside three large metal cannisters with deformed caps. A heavy thud reverberated through the bunker. She turned toward the ladder, scowling.
"WroOth and QueQoa preparing the trees," he said. The wind that puffed down into the bunker carried a heavy scent of earth and evergreen.
"Are they just…ripping them up?"
"Yes. We use the whole tree though." He then motioned toward the cannisters. "It seems that the Abliatos used toxic gases to force the inhabitants out." He then pointed toward the doorway. "They opened all the doors. Without power, the doors will remain as they are unless we find an alternative."
"How many do you think lived here?" She brushed her fingers against the metal wall, peering into the next room.
The doorway led into a large living area. Large shelves had been built directly into the walls, and hooks hung from the ceiling, bare and dull. Two metal benches and a metal table had been bolted to the floor. Scuff marks beneath the leaves, scales, and other debris on the floor suggested there had been other items of furniture.
"Hard to say," Naatos responded. "The place was cleaned out of almost everything of value. Scavengers took most of what wasn't bolted down. Probably would have come back if not for the grim worms. That's likely the only reason those chests are still in the bedroom, but there isn't anything inside."
More heavy thuds followed. Sometimes the whole ground shook. Maybe he needed to check on them. Were they searching the trees for nests and threats? It was a lot louder than usual.
Now that the grim worms had been cleared out, there really wasn't much to show. AaQar was examining one of the three storage rooms. Like the others, all that remained within were the shelves that had been built inside except for one in which there were a fair number of old baskets with a few nuts and rotted onions. Aside from the main living quarters, there were six other rooms, all decent in size. Six large chests had been opened and cleared out, now holding nothing more than debris and dried leaves. Another small room led to a second twisted external door that opened up into a collapsed tunnel. Most likely one of the ways that the grim worms had gotten in.
Amelia kept her hand over her mouth the farther they went into the bunker. The stench was almost unbearable back here. But that would fade soon. Securing the entrances and exits would be essential. After that though, this was a decently safe place. At least for Ecekom. "It's going to take awhile to clean it out."
"Not as long as you might think. Someone had put the door back over the entrance so it was mostly protected from the elements. As the air is moving, the stench is leaving."
She scuffed her foot along the floor, then turned her head, wincing. It seemed like she was trying to hide it. She'd been flinching a lot lately.
A heavy thud sounded from the entrance. QueQoa appeared through the doorway, barely ducking his head in time to avoid scraping it. "We've pulled a dozen trees and agitated a couple of strange mantises."
He raised an eyebrow. WroOth had likely done the agitating. If ever there was a time when they should avoid kicking nests of large angry insects, it was now. "Are they dealt with?"
"Essentially." QueQoa set his hands on his broad brown leather belt. "WroOth doesn't want help. He said to tell you it's happening. It's strange though. They have belts and collars. He wants you to see the one that's still alive."
Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. "Stay here with Amelia. Don't leave until it's safe."
She gave him a half amused, half annoyed glance. "I'm still capable of climbing."
"Maybe AaQar should go as well. Where is he?" QueQoa peered around him.
"He's in the back. Go tell him if you like." All he could hope was that WroOth didn't get in any deeper than he could handle. What could be so strange about these mantises? Strange was such a vague word.
He emerged from the mouth of the bunker and out into the clearing. Six large trees lay at the eastern edge, upended from the roots and laid one on top of the other. Another six lay at the other end of the clearing.
Sharp chirrs and annoyed clicks sounded on the other side of the fallen trees, drawing closer. Then his brother came into view. His doublet was gone, his undertunic shredded at the shoulder. And several red streaks indicated he had missed more than one blow as the large green-brown mantis sprung after him, armored forelegs darting in and out.
Laughing harshly, WroOth swatted it back, striking the broadside of one of those forelegs.
