B11

“What do you mean? How can there be more? There were so many…” A short fit of coughing cut off Olivia’s voice.

“We need to get out of this smoke; let’s push up and find Emmet,” Bronwyn said as she put an arm around Olivia and half carried her down the hall past the smoldering corpses. “I don’t suppose you have enough Energy for some light, do you?”

“Oh! Yes, of course, just one second; I got quite a bit back after the fight.” Olivia summoned her array of energy marbles and forced the fire mote to grow until it shone bright light down the hallway. Nothing else was coming toward them, at least not at the moment. The smoke was drifting up toward the cave’s exit, so they could breathe more easily after pushing past the pile of smoldering bodies. They could see the end of the tunnel and the opening into the cave where Emmet had gone just a dozen or so feet ahead. Nothing moved in their line of vision, but Bronwyn thought she heard something. It was some kind of crunching sound.

“Shh. Stop for a minute,” She said, straining to hear. It was definitely a wet crunching sound and a muffled grunting sound. Heat rose in her neck as she imagined Emmet being tortured or something, and she pounded her right gauntleted fist into the other and strode purposefully down the tunnel and into the cave. She could hear the others scrambling to follow her, but she was several seconds ahead of them through the opening.

The chamber she walked into wasn’t entirely devoid of light, but it took her a moment to see the shape of the cave. She was aware of open space and could hear the grunting and cracking sound coming from off to her right, but it wasn’t until Olivia caught up and her fiery, baseball-sized orb drove the shadows back that she could clearly see the horrors before her. The cave was oval in general shape, with the longer side going off to Bronwyn’s right. About twenty feet in front of her, she could see a pile of rotting, dismembered Yeksa corpses halfway submerged in a pool of frigid-looking, blue liquid. She could see ice crystals forming on the bottom corpses, and a sheen of thin ice covered the cavern floor near the pool. The air itself was cold, and with the light shining behind her, she noticed her breath pluming forth. Before she could take in the rest of the scene, Olivia choked out a gasp, and Martin’s deep voice rang out, “Holy Fuck!”

Bronwyn jerked her head to the right, looking down the length of the cave, and saw what had caused the reaction. A horrific creature lurked there among the long shadows cast by rubble and stalagmites. It had a humanoid body, supported by six huge spider-like legs. From the base of its torso, where a human’s legs would be, a nest of writhing tentacles sprouted, and in the tentacles, gripped around the neck and waist was Emmet’s corpse. His legs were gone, and, as Bronwyn stared aghast, a vicious beak like you might imagine on a giant bird or turtle lunged out of the nest of tentacles and ripped away a considerable portion of Emmet’s pelvis. Bones crunched. The face on the top of the humanoid body was nightmarish: an elongated, widely hinged lower jaw, black eyes that seemed to absorb the light, a flat nose with long slits for nostrils, all in a smooth dark grey skin that belied no emotion.

“Huh, huh, huh,” the creature said in a deep mocking laugh. “Some more delicious System cattle for me? I’m not that hungry, so some of you will serve me after death. Rejoice.” While it spoke, the beak shot forth and took a crunching bite out of Emmet’s side.

“You mother fucker!” Bronwyn called forth her stone armor and charged at the monstrosity, channeling as much Energy as she could into her fist as she jumped over some loose rubble, swinging a wild haymaker at its writhing tentacles where she had seen the beak withdraw. Bronwyn was fast. She knew she was miles faster than anyone she’d ever met, now that she’d leveled up a few times in this Energy-rich world and applied her gains to her agility. She still wasn’t fast enough to react when the monster lashed out with one of its long, carapace-covered legs and slammed her into the ground, shattering her layer of stone armor and driving the breath from her lungs.

“No!” Olivia shouted, stepping forward and starting to form a large, needle-pointed fragment of stone. She was just about to send it hurling at the creature when it carelessly flung Emmet’s corpse at her, as fast as a professional might throw a baseball. The corpse slammed into Olivia, sending her careening into a nearby wall with a crunch. She slid to the ground, unmoving, and her four little orbs, including the one providing most of the light, disappeared with little audible pops.

Bronwyn struggled to get her breath and push the creature’s spidery leg off her chest when Maya and Martin entered the fray. The two advanced much more cautiously than Bronwyn had, especially now, in the deeper darkness. Each circled the monster in a different direction. To her left, Maya approached, her shield held high and her axe up and ready to swing. To her right, Martin circled, his club held like a baseball bat waiting for a pitch. Bronwyn could hear them and see faint outlines of their shadows. As she lay on her back, she could see that the faint light was coming from a high, natural chimney in the cavern that opened in a small crack a hundred feet above their heads. Bronwyn gripped the spidery leg with both gauntleted fists and squeezed, lifting with all her might.

“Come now, cattle. You only prolong the suffering. Lie before me that I might end your feeble existence and add you to my legion.” The creature’s humanoid head spoke, but Bronwyn could see, among the twisting tentacles, a glinting pair of red eyes belied the beak, beginning to move forth. Panic flooded her, and adrenaline compounded with Energy poured into her veins, and she heaved with all her might. She rolled to her left as the leg lifted just an inch and scrambled away.

Before the Lovecraftian horror could pursue her, Maya shouted, “Now, Martin!” and the two of them attacked from opposite directions. Holding her shield up, Maya stepped forward and swung a wide arc with her axe, hoping to cleave through some of the tentacles. Martin roared and brought his club down, using his Earth Cracker skill to shatter the carapace covering one of the monster’s rear legs. Maya’s attack proved ineffectual, as the speed of the tentacles outmatched her; they wrapped around her arm and drew her close, and the beak shot forth to snap a section away from her throat. She didn’t even get a chance to scream as gouts of blood sprayed out from the gaping wound, and the tentacles flung her away. As Martin lifted his club for another blow, the monster almost lazily spun around and smacked him to the ground with one of its legs, just as it had to Bronwyn earlier. This time, though, it spoke in its deep, rumbling voice in a language that sounded discordant and chaotic in the humans’ ears. Greenish black smoke spread from the tip of the leg that held Martin pinned, flowing over him and into his lungs as he inhaled.

Martin shrieked as he started to wither. His flesh was desiccating as thick black steam rose from his body, making the already dim chamber darker still. The whole exchange between her two companions and the monster only took a couple of seconds, and by the time she was back to her feet and facing the creature, Martin had withered to a dried-out husk, his mouth open in a rictus howl. Bronwyn glanced at the monster, then at Olivia’s crumpled form, her white blouse the only part of her that stood out in the dark, near the tunnel. Maya and Martin were gone, and the creature had treated her like a rag-doll.

Frustration, rage, fear, despair all together nearly overwhelmed her. It was all Bronwyn could do to choke back a sob as she turned and ran to Olivia’s bloodied and broken form, lifting her into a fireman’s carry and sprinting for the tunnel. The monster took one step after Bronwyn, but it faltered on its broken leg and stopped. Instead, it let out that sickening, guttural laugh and called after her, “Run then, cattle. I’ll come to collect you soon.”

Bronwyn ran, tears streaming down her cheeks, unbidden. Olivia flopped lifelessly on her shoulder, her arms dripping blood down the backs of Bronwyn’s legs as she ran past the pile of burnt Yeksa. She sprinted with all her might, her lungs working like a bellows and the hallway flashing past her in a blur. She ran past the old Yeksa dwellings and into the tunnel leading to the surface. She ran out of the cave, and she didn’t stop until she was halfway back to the settlement.

She finally stopped, not far from where she’d tasted the red sap. Not far from where everyone had laughed at her red-stained teeth - before they had died. She angrily wiped the tears streaking the soot and blood on her cheeks and gently knelt, cupping a hand behind Olivia’s head as she laid her down in a patch of grass. Bronwyn gently straightened her friend’s arms, feeling for broken bones and finding several. She felt along her legs but couldn’t tell if they had any breaks. Last, because she’d been dreading it, she inspected her face and head. Olivia’s face and scalp were a bloody mess. Bronwyn could tell that her left orbital bone had broken, and a terrible, bloody gash ran from her forehead, through her eye, and down her cheek. Her face had been the main point of impact with the rough cave wall. “Oh God, Olivia, this looks bad,” she whispered while holding her fingers to her neck. She had a pulse, but it was weak and slow.

Bronwyn dug in her pouch for one of the blankets she’d stowed within and cut a long, wide strip. She used it to gently bind and cover the cut on Olivia’s eye and face. Then she cut more strips of cloth and some green branches to make splints for Olivia’s arms. That done, she picked her up, cradling her in her arms, and walked back to the settlement. Her mind was a thundercloud of guilt, anger, and regret. She berated herself for running so far with Olivia’s wounded head hanging down her back. She cursed herself for being too weak to hurt the monster. She hated herself for letting Olivia and the others come with and leading them to their deaths.

Even with her improved strength, she was wrung dry and stumbling by the time she made it out of the forest. She hurried across the grass, refusing to allow herself to slow. The colonists on watch by the archway ran up to her, offering to help with Olivia, but Bronwyn shrugged them off, walking with Olivia straight up the cleared pathway that led to the Colony Stone. She gathered quite a crowd, with many people asking what happened. She just shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. When she began the hike up the easy grade of the hill, she noticed Arthur was standing by the stone. She tried to ignore him, but before she was halfway up the slope, he was in front of her asking, “What happened, Bronwyn? Is that Olivia? Is she okay?”

“Just wait, Arthur.” Bronwyn pushed past him, climbed the rest of the way to the stone, and then slapped her hand on it, opening the Contribution Store. She’d spent the last few days earning System Credits with her quest to find the Yeksa cave and by creating Energy beads, but she hadn’t spent any of her store points; she had just over two thousand. She searched through the menus until she found the one titled Healing Items and was rewarded with a long list, ranging from cloth bandages for two contribution points to something called the Dew of Absolution for 580,000. Not wanting to waste time, she scrolled to items listed for around two thousand and found something called an unguent of major healing for eighteen hundred. The description said it would vastly improve an individual’s natural healing rate and efficacy. Bronwyn touched the menu button to purchase the ointment. A swirl of golden motes streamed out of the stone and coalesced on the ground by Bronwyn’s feet. Steam rose from the spot, and when it cleared, a small glass jar with a silver lid was resting on the ground.

Bronwyn gently laid Olivia on the grass near the stone and then picked up the jar. By this time, a fairly large crowd had gathered, and she could hear people asking each other what was going on, but she ignored everyone. Focusing intently on her task, she picked up the jar and knelt next to Olivia. She looked at the simple label on the side of the jar: “Gently spread topically near the injured area.” Bronwyn unscrewed the lid and saw that the cream was an ivory-white and of a consistency not unlike the expensive night cream she’d left behind in her apartment. She was getting ready to apply it when she looked up suddenly at the circle of inquiring faces. “Hey, can you give me some space? I doubt Olivia would want you all staring at her when I put this stuff on her ribs and stomach!”

Some people looked away, ashamed, but many refused to budge. Surprisingly it was Arthur who took up her cause and exhorted them all to back up and, “Give her some space!” Bronwyn scooped some of the cream onto a finger, noticing that her own hand was covered in soot and blood, and her nails were torn. When had that happened? She shoved the thought aside and gently tested the cream on some of the more superficial cuts on Olivia’s arm, spreading it on the purple, swollen area where it was broken. The cream spread like melted butter and was absorbed immediately into Olivia’s skin. The cuts on her arm closed instantly, leaving thin, white scars as if the wound had been healed for years. The bruise over her broken forearm faded immediately, and most of the swelling went down. Bronwyn took another dab of cream and gently rubbed it into the same spot. The swelling continued to subside, and she felt the bone shift. The arm was straight and smooth, and Bronwyn couldn’t feel any sign of a break, even when she pressed along the bone with her thumb.

That test done, she set the jar down and gently unwrapped the cloth from around Olivia’s face. She winced and again felt tears welling in her eyes, but she fought them back; time for self-pity later. Olivia’s left brow was misshapen and swollen, and the deep cut that traversed it had been enough to rip her eyelid and probably her eye; Bronwyn couldn’t see the eye through all the scabbed blood. Her cheek was cut to the bone as well. She liberally spread the unguent on Olivia’s face, from her forehead to her eyebrow, then carefully applied it over her bloodied eye socket and her cheek. She breathed a sigh of relief when Olivia’s swelling immediately receded, and the little bones around her eye shifted back into place. Her eyelid mended, and the skin and muscle in her cheek knitted neatly.

Bronwyn delicately felt Olivia’s face, ensuring that all the bones were where they should be and that there wasn’t any leftover swelling. Olivia hadn’t escaped unscathed; she had a white scar about a centimeter wide that ran from just above her eyebrow to halfway down her cheek. Bronwyn was terrified that her eye hadn’t healed, so she gently peeled open her eyelids and looked. Olivia’s eye was in one place, but the iris wasn’t pale blue anymore; it was a silvery-white. “Oh, dammit! I hope you can still see when you wake up,” Bronwyn whispered.

After Bronwyn used the rest of the cream to clear up the bruises and cuts on the rest of Olivia’s body, particularly on her ribs and abdomen, she lifted her and made to carry her to her tent. Arthur tried to follow, and when she brushed past him, he said, “Bronwyn! What happened? We have to know what’s going on!”

Bronwyn sighed heavily and said, “Thank you for helping with the crowd, Arthur. When Olivia wakes, we’ll explain everything, but I just can’t right now. Put extra guards on the gateways. Like twenty.”