Hunting grounds, p.20
Hunting Grounds, page 20
Lingering at the edge of the property line, Tyson whispered, “What are they doing?”
Suann slinked a few feet closer, peering with her sharp eyes. “One of them has a device of some kind. I can see liquid churning and bubbling around inside it, but I’ve no idea what it is. Probably not a coffee maker,” she quipped with longing, missing her daily fix. They hadn’t been brave enough yet to light a fire, which meant they were still on cold rations and without the comfort of a brew.
Unable to deny the same longing, Tyson silently swore he would find a way to provide them all coffee before they died. “Hmm. Strange. None of the others have showed any interest in anything beyond killing us. How many do you see?”
“Four,” Naomi said, sounding confident. “One by that weird device. Another talking to him like an equal. Two more watching outward. Either guards or they are bored.”
“Assume the first,” Tyson said, not about to underestimate these creatures. That would get them dead real fast. “How close do you think you can get before they see you?”
The women around him contemplated the grounds. It was largely open space, but there was some roll to the landscape, along with quite a few new bushes and tufts of long grass that had grown in the wake of the magically-flora-spawning rain.
Amber offered first from her spot crouched behind an emaciated tree. “Probably as far as that indentation there, about thirty yards from them. I can see a way I can keep low enough they won’t see me.”
“That takes care of the right side. How about left?” Tyson asked.
“Hm, I’d say I could get to where the teeter-totters used to be,” Kara said. “See the wooden retaining wall to keep the dirt from falling on the sand? I could hide behind that. Call it forty yards from them?”
Tyson posed the critical question. “Think you could hit them with arrows from that far?”
Kara looked worried. “I’m not sure the first one would kill them.”
“It’s a risk,” he agreed. He mumbled under his breath as he considered his options. At their curious glances, he repeated what he’d said louder. “If you miss, it could mean my life. All our lives.” He explained further, unslinging his 338 rifle and clearing the action to ensure it hadn’t been fouled by their creeping about. “I’m confident a shot from one of these will do the work for one of them. But every shot I fire will help other hunters locate us. One will catch them off guard. A second will pull them in our direction. A third, and they’ll be on us before we can subdue one of these brutes and get the answers we need.” He grimaced. “With four, I think we need to even the odds fast.”
“What’s the plan, then?” Naomi wondered.
He tapped the butt of the 30-06 she was porting. “If I asked you to put one through the leg of that orc with the weird device, do you think you could do it?”
“I mean, with him crouched over, I think I could keep the shot to his lower body,” she said, sounding moderately confident. “But I can’t sharpshoot well enough to say I’d miss an artery or punch through something vital.”
Tyson didn’t push for more. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take. I’ll shoot at the same time as you. I’ll take my best shot at ending the big one standing next to the one you’ll cripple.” He frowned in thought. “Yeah, two shots isn’t too wasteful.”
“Wasteful?” Naomi asked.
He chuckled at himself. “We might be able to find a book on gunsmithing or something, but until we do, being in the military didn’t provide me with a working knowledge on how to craft bullets or make cordite or even gunpowder. I mean, I get the idea, but I don’t have the specific chemistry. Which means this is all the ammo we ever get until we find another spot to raid, and you can bet that every other living human and probably some of those orcs are thinking the same.”
“So less is more,” Naomi said.
“Yeah.”
“Won’t they be able to tell where the shots came from?” Suann asked in concern.
He shrugged. “Not sure. Depends on how familiar they are with weapons like this. Following the noise isn’t a hard concept. But in case they don’t track the source, I’ll make it easy for them.” He jammed the point of his newly acquired flamberge sword into the ground by their feet.
Kara’s eyebrows climbed high. “You’re going to fight them?”
“Depends on your aim.” Tyson chuckled as he rubbed some dirt off his hands. “They see me and they’ll charge. That’ll bring them right between the archer locations. Suann, you stay here with the third bow and cover that angle. Concentrate on one of them.”
“Which one?” Kara asked.
“The one with the blue sash,” Amber replied, making the choice for them.
She always was a decisive one. Goes with her gut. Sticks with her choice. She’d have been good in the military. Tyson did nothing to convince them otherwise. Knowing so little about the orcs and their symbols, it was not much better than a blind choice. Both the remaining orcs were over seven feet tall, had vicious weapons, and a pugnacious air that suggested they would kill without hesitation. “Keep shooting until that one goes down. I’ll take on the other. Feel free to weaken it however you can and help me not to die.”
“Odds he’ll run?” Naomi wondered.
“High. That’s where you come in. If it bolts, shoot it in the back. Risking a second shot it better than it calling in all its friends to track us with some of those hellhounds.” Tyson jabbed a finger at the orc working its strange device. “Then we swarm that one. He might try to limp or crawl away. Our turn to hunt. We bind it and haul it to a spot where we can question it, assuming we can find the items that can translate. Sound good?”
Kara huffed. “Well, I’d say there’s a decent chance we won’t all die with this plan, so let’s go with it.”
Suann’s eyes were huge with concern as she stared at him. “This is an awfully big risk you’re taking.”
“Not so bad with you angels on my shoulders,” Tyson said, investing as much confidence as he could. “Don’t think about it too hard. If we do, we’ll talk ourselves into inaction. Go on. Find your cover and we’ll show these hunters this world has a few things for them to fear.”
The small group spread out. Suann edged to the left, not going far but enough that she wouldn’t be shooting her arrows from directly behind Tyson when he jumped out. They didn’t need a signal. The start of the fight was going to be obvious.
Taking good firing positions, Tyson made a few last-minute adjustments to the prone position Naomi had taken and whispered a last bit of advice on focusing her aim. Then he matched her side by side. Just loudly enough for her to hear, he counted, “Three, two, one… fire.” Nearly as one, they shot. As near to a single sound as possible cracked over the former school yard.
Naomi’s potent shot pierced the hip of the crouching orc. It didn’t appear to be protected by as much armor as the stout warrior beside him. No steel plates protected its flank. The bullet thundered into its pelvis. Whatever work it had been doing was instantly forgotten. It bellowed in agony and collapsed to its side.
The round from Tyson’s barrel found its target as well. The large hunter turned its head sideways even as he fired, which caused the bullet to punch through its ear. Its skull was thick. There was no exit wound. But the heavy slug made mincemeat of the brains inside, and the orc crumpled to the ground like a sack of meat without bones.
True to Tyson’s guess, the hands of the two remaining hunter-orcs flashed to their weapons and sought the source of the gun fire. Their noses twitched as the hint of cordite blew on the wind, and their eyes did not take long to find the path both shots had traveled. The one with yellow-stained furs took up a thick spear, while the one with the blue sash ported a vicious axe combined with a hand-crossbow, though the weapon was closer to being a two-handed variant.
Seeing one of them had a ranged weapon of its own, Suann didn’t hold her bow. It was important for Kara and Amber to stay hidden, so that the enemy would not attack them in their spots. That left it to Suann to dull the threat to them all. She’d been the best hitting the targets while in practice, but this was real. Her violet eyes were as hard as amethysts as she took her aim and loosed her first shaft. Whether by accident of intent, it thudded into the crossbow orc’s arm. Its hand spasmed, releasing the weapon. It fell and the cranked wire snapped as it hit upon a stone.
The arrow gave the two orcs a far clearer idea where the threat was coming from. To stop them from zeroing in on Suann, Tyson carried out his plan. Grabbing the hilt of his sword, he emerged from hiding. Unlike the orcs, he knew exactly when they would be at the optimum firing position. He didn’t charge in headlong. Instead, he jogged toward them, controlling the rate of closing so that the arrows would fire seconds before he reached them.
If the orcs suspected a trap, neither of them showed it. Both radiated hatred. Their eyes were fixated on him, eager to get a little revenge. The one with the crossbow bolt spearing its hand grabbed the shaft and yanked it free. It broke the bolt with one fist in a bravado display, then spun its axe in anticipation of soaking the blade in Tyson’s blood.
Which was precisely when Kara and Amber made their presence known. Kara shot first. Her shot notched into blue sash’s shoulder. If there was a flicker of pain on the monster’s face, it was brief. Anger flashed into its eyes as it tracked the direction of the new enemy.
That was when Amber took her chance. Her arrow thudded into the creature’s exposed back. Her intuition and a healthy dose of luck had it shear through a gap in the orc’s hide armor. The tip dug deep and dragged a fierce snarl from between its tusks. It shot a nasty glance over its shoulder, realizing it was caught in a crossfire.
Yellow Furs’ pace also staggered, believing it might be a target. That was the hesitation Tyson needed. He was capable enough, but he was no master of hand-to-hand combat. Time to get myself experience. But I’d be a fool not to even the odds a bit first. Rather than try for a death strike that he’d probably fail, Tyson took a surer bet. He might not know how to fight like a warrior of old, but he’d chopped plenty of firewood in his days. He hacked his wavy-blade broadsword into the haft of the orc’s spear.
In a former deep dive through online threads, he’d read spiteful feuds about whether a sword could cut through a well-crafted polearm or spear shaft. Even those who thought it possible seemed to agree it would take a talented sword master to execute the move in the midst of combat. That’s why Tyson made no effort to cleave through the wood. Instead, he aimed to cut through fingers and then chop at the wood beneath with sufficient force to whack the weapon from the orc’s grasp.
He was partly successful. Blood spurted as three of its digits were severed. The haft popped from the suddenly loosened grip, but the sturdy orc tightened its grasp with the other hand. With the confidence of hundreds of previous battles, the orc growled away the pain and smashed the weapon in a one-handed sweep against Tyson’s arm.
Only the diminished strength from the monster’s reflexive strike stopped it from shattering the pilot’s arm. The blow still battered Tyson sideways, and he rolled with the blow to dampen the impact.
As soon as he was out of the way, Suann ignored his earlier directions and planted her next arrow in the Yellow Furs’ chest. That staggered the creature, giving Tyson enough time to recover into a low crouch. He hacked with all his might into the back of the orc’s leg. There was no chance he could cut the tree-trunk-sized limb clean off. He satisfied himself with sinking deep into its flesh, severing the corded hamstrings beneath. His slice didn’t notch into bone, so he dragged it out with as vicious a tug as he could.
Howling in pain, the crippled orc jabbed with its spear. Even one-handed, there was enough force behind it to punch through Tyson’s chest. Pain clouded the monster’s judgment, and it telegraphed the thrust badly enough that Tyson had time to evade. Inexperience made him combine the dodge with a parry. He might have needed only one, but his brain wouldn’t accept that spear lancing toward him without using his blade to form a barrier. He leaped back, clearing out of the orc’s reach.
Too hobbled to follow, the hunter let out a snarl and heaved the spear at the retreating human. Tyson lurched to one side, barely managing to duck around the weapon. The serrated edge of the tip snagged him on the outside of his left shoulder, sending a siren of pain into his nervous system. Knowing he needed to seize the advantage before the hunter could draw a knife or other small weapon, he reversed his momentum and heaved the flamberge around in as powerful an arc as he could to chop into the crook of the orc’s neck. Yellowy-black blood that smelled like puss glubbed out of the creature. It grasped at the wound, choking as its airways filled with the same pungent ooze. Tyson’s sword was snared in the monster’s sinewy flesh as it collapsed, tearing the weapon out of his hands.
That brought the second orc back into view. Blue Sash was now peppered with five arrows around its torso, flung into it from three different directions. Battle wisdom must be telling it to pick one and charge, since staying in the crossfire could only lead to death, but the swirl of pain and anger and confusion all conspired to keep it rooted to the spot, attempting to shield its vital spots while backing up step by step.
Tyson couldn’t let it gain any sort of reprieve. Taking the small risk of stepping into Suann’s field of fire, he grabbed up the fallen orc’s spear and rushed in at the faltering monster. His attack wasn’t subtle, but it wasn’t meant to be. He shoved the tip into the orc’s gut and kept ramming forward until he was sure he had buried two full feet of the spear’s length through its belly.
A brief flash of eagerness came to the orc’s eyes as it recognized a foe within reach. It tried to raise its axe high to bring down one final blow before all its strength sapped away. But Amber shot another arrow into it. Kara followed her own third. The orc sank to its knees and jammed the butt of the axe into the ground, struggling to keep its face out of the dirt.
Not taking any chances, Tyson drew his hunting knife and darted in. He jutted the knife into the orc’s throat and opened what was sure to be a mortal wound. He leapt back, wary that the monster might summon a final fit of violent death throes. The previous arrow attacks had sucked away too much of its vigor. The orc wheezed a final time and began to pitch sideways into the dirt.
“Kuum lau kos bakti!” The ugly incantation roared from the last living orc, the one crippled by Naomi’s first bullet. What Tyson thought at first was a roar of defiance soon proved to be far more. Against all reason and science, the orc formed a claw with its thick fingers and sent a ball of force and fire exploding from its palm. The fireball stormed down on Tyson. The flickering flames howled against the scorched air as if promising his death.
Acting on pure instinct born of the few, paltry days of ground combat training, Tyson acted as if a grenade was flipping toward him. He dove behind the slowly dying orc, propping him up and hiding behind its thick flesh in hopes that it might shield him.
The fireball exploded only a few yards away. The concussive blast broke over the wounded orc. If it hadn’t been death before, it was now. The tongues of flames that flashed outward cooked the grass and left the air sizzling for a dozen feet in all directions.
Tyson felt his skin redden from the burning heat. He was hurled backward, stumbling on his heels as he tried to regain his balance. Wisps of smoke curled away from his new clothing. Dazed and disoriented, he felt the wind sucked right out of his lungs as the fire consumed all the oxygen in the area to feed its fury.
He had a dim memory of the three sisters launching a counter attack against the offending orc. Baseball bats they had taken and turned into makeshift clubs thundered into this orc, beating it into unconsciousness before it could use its strange powers again.
Falling to his back, the entire world went hazy. Clouds against the sky were the best Tyson could make out. Ringing in his ears washed out all other sounds until he began to wonder if his hearing had been permanently damaged. Above him, a figure emerged from the background. His brain was slow to process, going black a few more times, only to at last resolve into Naomi’s lovely face. She was calling out to him, her hands running over his arms as to provoke some reaction from him.
What she was causing was pain. Her fingers were grazing along patches of burned skin. By taking cover, he’d kept the wounds to not much worse than sunburns, though he’d suffered a few blistery patches on his right leg and arm from where he hadn’t been able to tuck them in as well. Her fingers were aggravating the injuries, and he hissed, “Enough. I’m… I’m not gone yet.”
Laughing in delight, Naomi leaned in and crushed her lips to his. “Thank God, I thought I’d lost you for sure.” She melded her mouth to him again, letting him drink in her relief that he hadn’t been burnt to a crisp.
Tyson had to admit he was pretty damned happy about that as well. With no better idea on how to celebrate coming through the conflict in one piece – more or less – he pressed himself up against the older woman and deepened the kiss with a passion that came from desire and the joy of being alive.
“Umm, excuse me? What the hell is going on?” Kara exclaimed.
The brief rush of passion plateaued, then waned as reality kicked the pair in the gut. Oh right, Tyson sighed to himself inside. There are things we haven’t had the chance to explain to everyone present.
Naomi’s joy withered into regret as she realized how impulsive she’d been. She drew away from him and sank to her behind amidst the still-smoldering patches of grass, peering up at her eldest daughter and trying to find the right words.
Suann didn’t give her the chance. Rather than the fury on Kara’s face, there was a strange sort of manic glee on her own, as if she could see the ridiculous pattern that fate had woven for them and found it hilarious. “You slept with our Mom?”
Groaning at how bad that sounded, Tyson pleaded, “Listen for a sec. It wasn’t… I mean… that’s not how it went down.”
Amber was remaining near the orc they had felled, making sure he didn’t rouse. From that distance, she wasn’t hearing everything, but her face betrayed stunned confusion as she tried to puzzle out how this could have happened.
