| |
The darkness hurt but not nearly as much as the light. Haze opened his eyes and knew he was still alive. Nothing else could feel that bad. He was staring at a hazy sky. He walked a hand across his body and found a med weave wrapped around his torso. His other arm felt heavy and was weighted down by a healing pad too.
Sudden joy wiped away the pain. He was alive and seemed likely to stay that way. That was supremely unexpected. Also incredibly, fantastically, amazingly awesome. Tears pricked his eyes and that was unexpected too, as was the hand that eased under his back to help him sit upright.
“Thanks,” Haze groaned. “I didn’t think we’d make it.”
“We?” a familiar voice asked.
Haze squinted up at his biggest and baddest brother. He had no idea how Zak had found him but wasn’t going to complain. He didn’t even try to stop a smile so extreme it made his lower lip crack. Blood trickled down his chin, so he must have hurt his mouth somehow and aggravated the injury. It didn’t matter.
“Silk?” he croaked.
Zak leaned closer to loom over Haze even more than usual. “What?”
“More of a who,” Haze said distractedly. He scanned the wreckage around him with com, eyes, and fronds. Silk’s seat looked shattered, much like him, but there were no life signs anywhere ... and no body.
Silk was gone. About her own business no doubt, as she’d promised. Her loss still felt like a punch to the gut. His smile settled into something less stretched, and his joy shrank along with it.
Zak crouched closer still while his fronds leaked concern. Haze’s attempt at a comforting smile made his brother frown and plaster a med strip across his forehead. It seemed stronger reassurance was required.
“I’m Haze. I’ll be freaked out for a while.” He had to stop, gulping for air. “Did ... did Judgement just explode? And were there spiders?” He shook his head, spraying blood from his lip, before answering his own questions. “Sorry. Stupid. This is just a nightmare, or concussion, or going mad, or ... anything else really. Right, Doc?”
Zak took Haze’s good hand in his paw. His brother’s grip was firm but gentle and strangely comforting. Panic beat at Haze’s temples. Why did he need comfort?
“I’m sorry, Haze. Sometimes life throws up challenges.”
“Sometimes it just throws up all over us,” Haze muttered.
“That too.” Zak’s smile was warm and understanding and just as creepily comforting as holding hands. “You did well. The crash was bad, but you stayed calm enough to set up a med-field before you passed out.”
“No, I didn’t. There was zero calm and an embarrassing amount of passing out.”
Zak squeezed his hand again. “It might not have felt like it, but you did everything right. Your first-aid weave stopped you from bleeding out. You did exactly what it took to survive and that’s huge. This attack on Judgement was deadly.”
“Silk,” Haze gulped. “Saving me ... it was all Silk.” He started to explain but before he could his brother’s claim hit him in the gut. “Judgement was attacked?”
“I’m sorry, Haze. It wasn’t a nightmare, and neither were the spiders. The center of our city is gone but not its people. There are thousands of life signs left and I intend to help them. But first, I want to dive into your meds and get you healed. Okay?”
“Sure.” Haze hardly heard his trembling answer. He scarcely noticed Zak easing him back to the ground. He was unaware of the pain tugging at his injuries or the itching that followed. He was totally focused on finding solid ground in his destroyed world.
Only one thing remained obvious. Haze needed to help too. He was bred and born for this. To face crisis bravely, while protecting others. There was a point between cowardice and the extreme courage of berserk insanity that he needed to find. Anything else would be an insult to Leo. He had to be at least half as brave as his brother because Leo would never have the same chance.
“You can get up now,” Zak encouraged but Haze was still searching his heart and head. Tears washed his cheeks and his grief felt like an amputation. “On your feet, Hazeon. I need to go.”
“He’s dead.”
Zak stopped as if caught in a stasis field. “Who?”
Haze cleared his throat. “Leo. Something ... pulled him apart.”
Big brother was on his feet in an instant. “Where?”
“No, Zak. It’s too late. Pulled him apart. Literally. Lots and lots—far too many lots—of little pieces. He was cold and not ... not him anymore. Not even close.” A sob shook Haze, but he was suddenly held close in a hug. Zak rocked him and cried too. It was a moment Haze had never wanted to share but it helped.
For a minute.
Zak pulled back far too soon and scrubbed at his cheeks. “There are other people to save. Get up and show me you’re good to go.”
Haze’s body acted without him, rising with scarcely an ache. He looked down at his recently broken arm to find a jagged scar running between elbow and wrist. He wanted to tell Zak that he’d done a great job, but the words wouldn’t come. He wanted to talk about Leo too, but those words really wouldn’t come. Haze’s world was still in tatters, as shattered as his arm had been and things couldn’t get any worse.
Until Haze turned around. Then everything got worse. Much worse.
Beyond the wrecked yacht lay corpses. A dozen bloated bodies were scattered across the charred flowers of the Central Gardens. They were huge and oozed a white froth that turned any surviving grass black. Stretched lines of web still glued them to pieces of debris from Haze’s ship.
The spiders were real and larger than life.
A warm hand settled on his shoulder, making him flinch. “Sorry, Haze. I know how you feel about arachnids. This group died when you crashed. Find somewhere safe to hide. Gather up any civilians as you go. I’ve got fresh orders and some hunting to do.”
Zak lifted his hand away, and a chill replaced it. The skin on the back of Haze’s neck tried to mimic plucked poultry. He shivered and Zak’s grip was back at once, along with a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve done well, Haze. This is ... awful and you’ve done really well. I’ll see you somewhere safe. I just need to collect some ammunition.”
This time Haze managed not to shake when Zak stepped away. His brother walked right up to the nearest spider and decompressed a shining cleaver. The thing was dead ... wasn’t it? Haze trembled again but this time managed to stop the reaction. He was scared. He could admit that, but he could fight it too. Or fight through it, or something. He could feel himself out there somewhere—the self he wanted to be—just a bit further on, past the terror.
Zak swung his blade and chopped through the spider’s leg. It came away with a crack, as if the dead beast was somehow brittle. Zak kicked the severed limb aside and shifted to the other foreleg.
Haze pushed past panic and moved. He strode forward to stand beside the spider’s corpse. Even crushed by a crashing spaceship it was taller than him, while its clustered eyes seemed to stare accusingly. He dropped his gaze to the severed limb. It was serrated and spiked along its entire length, while the end looked like a harpoon. It was a weapon sure enough. So ... there was hope.
Speech was impossible, but Haze could still act. His broken arm remained numb, so he let it hang. He dialed up the protection from his com and bent to gather the first limb, single handed. Zak paused, but Haze waved him back to the grisly business of taking weapons from their fallen foes.
Haze followed Zak in a strange calm. He retrieved the limbs his brother hacked from dead spiders without flinching. The task wasn’t fun. There were too many spiders and far too much hacking for that. Too much destruction of his entire drakking world.
Yet the simple act of gathering weapons, of doing something to strike back, was a relief. Feeling returned to Haze’s recently healed arm and he decompressed a sack from his com to carry more. His hands steadied while he worked. He finally managed to offer Zak a nod. “I’m Haze,” he said firmly. “I’ll be your porter today.”
Zak just stared in response with no trace of a smile. He’d slipped out of doctor mode as Haze healed and something chilling had replaced it. Something more real. Haze gulped but couldn’t ignore his duty. “What’s wrong? I can be your counsellor today too. I mean, what’s wrong other than an invasion of giant spiders and the destruction of civilization?”
Zak snapped a sharply curved blade from a spider’s carapace and dropped it in front of Haze. He obediently bent to stow it in the sack and a thought belatedly occurred to him. He silently cursed himself. Where was Magreth? She was supposed to be on some sort of romantic get-away with Zak.
Haze snapped upright to stare, while Zak sawed at another carapace-mounted hook.
“Is Maggie ...?” Haze stopped with a gulp and Zak stopped too.
His big brother didn’t look up from the dead spider but his mind leaked pain.
“Oh no,” Haze breathed.
Zak’s fronds finally answered, as if he couldn’t trust his voice. Not dead. She’s in stasis. I’ve got to get her to a hospital but there isn’t one anymore. I thought a ship’s medbay would do but they’re gone too. And I have a mission that doesn’t let me do anything to save Maggie yet anyway.
That was disconcerting. What could be more important to Zak than Magreth? “Can I help?” There was a pause while Zak considered the request. “I’ve got this, Zak. I won’t get in your way, and I won’t panic. I can help.”
His brother finally managed the hint of a smile. Carry my ammo and keep up.
Absolutely. [commitment, determination] Where are we going?
Down into Hell. I plan to add more flames.
Explain, Haze asked but Zak’s mind snapped shut.
His brother turned away and drove his ax into another shoulder joint, half-tearing a hooked leg from the corpse. He thrust it at Haze, who took it with a frond touch of reassurance. Maggie will make it. She’s tough.
Zak nodded once, a sharp bob of the head, and kept on butchering spiders.