Obfuscate (7 page)

“He’s clawed her!” Briggs hollered.

My mind fuzzier than before, all I could imagine was a behemoth of a Rakshasa with my calf muscles impaled on his sickle-shaped talons. A swoosh of air cascaded over me, and I heard a thud land at my side.

Khaldon called out to Briggs, “Behind you, there’s another one. Here, grab my knife.”

My ears registered a grunted wheeze, a bone-ripping, wet sludgy slice, a metal clang, a gun blast, and then a solid thud.

“Harris, get in here. We’ve got to go!” Khaldon yelled and placed me on the vile floor. His footsteps left me.

I crouched up into myself cradling my body. Squeezing my calves, coppery wetness saturated my hands and pooled in my boots. My wounds weren’t healing.

Briggs hollered, “Dzere’s more coming.”

Sounds of the fighting cascaded all around me. The only way to describe it would be if I were sitting in the middle of a professional, concert surround-sound stereo system. Every crunch, punch, fall, kick, groan, stab, and jab amplified the tearing flesh all around me.

I ducked my head and heard Khaldon grunt after a solid punching blow. Was that a blow he gave or took?

“Watch out! It’s gonna spew ’is guts!” Briggs shouted and then it sounded as though he fell to the floor.

A splash of repulsive, toxic liquid cascaded over the ground and pooled around me. The smell was even more hideous than the stench we’d been breathing, if that was even possible. I gagged at the acrid odor of the eviscerated bowel.

Briggs let out an uproar.

“You all right, mate?” Khaldon’s voice edged with high alarm, and I heard more gun shots explode over my head.

“Is he ahwight?” My words were a jumbled mess with my lip dangling off my face. I coughed and choked on the sticky blood pooling in my mouth.

We must have been closer to the entrance than I realized. More mollusk horns broke the night’s drumming.

I looked up, but only masses of light and darkness were visible through the bloody rivulets.

Thunderous footsteps poured in all around us. Khaldon cursed under his breath. “Just feckin’ lovely.”

“Khaldon, get down!” Gunfire shattered against walls and their reports filled the chamber. When the spray of bullets was over, nothing but the echoing sounds of bodies fell to the floor while the remains of Harris’ voice punctuated the air.

Khaldon hollered, “Torchy’s ready to land. Let’s go.”

Harris asked, “Where’s Dakota and Ludovic?

“Harris, they’re gone. We have to go.” Khaldon’s voice was across the room. “Can you lift her? Cheyenne is covered in silver and glass. Be mindful of the silver burns.”

“Gone? Burns?” Harris questioned. The tone of his voice unbelieving.

“No time. I’ve got to help Briggs.” Khaldon yelled back.

“I found another girl,” Harris hollered.

“Pull the twist outta yer bloody knickers and move yer arse!” Khaldon replied.

Harris grabbed my arm and yanked me up to my feet. “Sorry, Chey. We seriously gotta move.”

There was zero time to think about pain or the shocking reality of what had happened to my sister. We had to get everyone out of this hellhole before we were all dead.

The drumming outside echoed through the cavern. It grew in depth and tempo as we approached the entrance. More mollusks reverberated and sirened through the island.

They were coming after us.

The fresh night air was a welcome relief, but the macaque monkey screams and deafening drums unhinged me further. The wind from Torchy’s wings toppled me over into the cool dewy grass.

Khaldon cried out, “Oh shite, Briggs. Harris—he’s collapsed.”

“Chey, can you see at all?” Harris asked.

I shook my head, which seemed to throb in sync with the pounding footsteps running through the jungle. My stomach roiled with nauseating pain from the silver as it continued to send waves of scorching spasms. I rolled over onto my hands and knees. The next thing I knew, strong arms hoisted me into the air. I landed with a thud onto Torchy’s back.

“Hold on to this girl. I don’t think she’s conscious.” Harris threw a limp body in front of me.

“Briggs has been stabbed,” Khaldon hollered while they heaved Briggs in behind me.

Rakshasa erupted out of the jungle’s lush undergrowth and ululated their hungry battle cries.

Gun blasts cut through the night, and I covered my ears from the deafening reports.

Torchy’s neck grew hot. I imagined it like sitting atop of a chimney flue. Just when I couldn’t stand the pain of the searing temperature, Torchy blasted fire from his throat, unleashing his liquid fury.

I squinted hard as the powerful bright light erupted, searing my sight even more.

Torchy’s vengeance scorched vegetation and bodies. Charred aromas wafted in the energized air, while natives screamed all around us. Many cries raced away.

I prayed his blistering flames were cremating everything within range, awarding us precious moments to escape. Torchy revved up his pipes once again, and the blaze built in his belly.

“Jump on, Harris,” Khaldon bellowed over the loud flame thrower. Another massive intake of air and I braced myself for the next flame blast, but instead we were airborne.

“Watch out! Ten o’clock,” Harris shouted. “They’ve got blowpipes and spears.”

I instinctively tried to look, but all I could see was the faint orangish glow from the fire while the sound of poison darts whizzed over my head.

Gunfire exploded again.

I flattened myself closer to the girl and deeper into Torchy’s back for fear of being hit by either the poisonous darts or the bullets.

Harris screamed, “Ahhhhggg! Dammit, I’m hit!”

I looked back over my shoulder and yelled. “Hawwis, hang on!”

The air pressure increased as Torchy’s wings climbed higher and higher, up and away, hopefully out of range of the deadly barbs.

Torchy mind-messaged,
Watch out—they have flaming arrows
.
I’m gonna blast them again.

The furnace released once again and my legs closed in around his abdomen tighter.

Bolts zoomed overhead.

Arrows clinked against Torchy’s scales. One of them nailed me in the calf and embedded itself into Torchy’s side. I felt him moan at the embedded projectile.

“Arrrgh!” I screamed and reached to pull at the arrow, but it was too far down for me to loosen my grip on the girl. With every heave of Torchy’s wings, his body flexed the arrow inside my leg. It was all I could do not to black out.

It sounded like a shotgun blast erupted from Harris. A deafening crack, and then a quick succession of the reload, and then another explosion.

The rushes of flames whizzed past my ear and clinks of spears bounced off Torchy’s hide at this height.

“Bloody hell, Torch—I’m hit! Get us to the water!” Khaldon called out.

“Chey, your hair is on fire!” Harris yelled.

Harris banged on my head, patting out the flames. The pressure from his hands pushed my face deeper into Torchy’s neck, which in turn heated the silver burning deeper into my face.

More quills whizzed past us through the night sky as Torchy flew our injured load higher away from the onslaught.

“The fire! I can’t get it out. It’s spreading! It’s—it’s—” Khaldon’s voice escalated, “some kind of silver oil mix.” He screamed in a voice I’d never heard. “
AHHHHGG!”

Harris cried out, “My hands—I can’t feel my hands! I can’t get the fire out!”

Torchy abruptly changed his direction from going upward to a fast forward motion that threw me off balance. I barely hung on, the change in direction leaving me gasping for breath. Torchy maintained his forward inertia. We plunged into the water. Our crash landing felt as though I were ensconced in a full body seatbelt. Torchy held us on with his gluey type dragon essence, and we managed to stay attached to him without being thrown into the salt water.

Seconds later, watery plunges indicated Khaldon and Harris had dived off Torchy to squelch the flames. I squinted, barely able to see the orange glowing masses under the water.

They’re burning? Under the water?

I reached for my calf. “I can’t get it, Torch!” I tried to remove the arrow pinning me through the calf and embedded in Torchy’s side. The head of the bolt was too close to the bone. My fingers wrapped around it, but the slick blood didn’t help to capture a firm hold. I rocked it back and forth almost blacking out. Torchy and I both groaned at the failed extrication.

“Torchy are you aw wight? Can you see ’em? Are ’ey okay?”

Aye, I’ll be fine, lass. I see them. It looks like the flames are dying down. I think some of that fire is laced with a silver compound, and they’re gonna be in worse shape than you. We’ll get that bolt out soon enough.

I couldn’t imagine worse pain than what I was already experiencing. The saltwater scalded my open wounds where the chunks of silver refused to allow the sores to heal.

Will the sharks be attracted to the blood and flames?

After what seemed like an eternity, finally Harris and Khaldon breached the surface. Their heavy breathing told me just how ghastly they’d been injured. They had never sounded like that.

“How ’ad is it?” My bottom lip throbbed with every new splash of the ocean water.

There was silence from both Harris and Khaldon. Their lack of speech told me volumes more information than if either had uttered a single word.

Briggs and the girl hadn’t moved this entire time. If it weren’t for their faint heartbeats, I would have sworn we had lost them, too.

Waves of nausea roiled through my guts with the knowledge that the burnt stench came from Harris and Khaldon. The scent of my scorched hair and their charred flesh amplified the qualm.

“Hey guys, can one of you help me remove this bolt out of my leg? I’m pinned to Torchy’s side.”

Khaldon swam over to me, and before I knew it, had yanked the bolt out. I screamed in relief, but the overwhelming pain finally took its toll and I retched over the unknown girl’s body.

Torchy mind messaged,
Oh, for chrissakes, mates. We’ve got company. Jump on now, will ye? Sharks are schooling and bloody hell if they don’t look hungry.

I
failed
. I should be dead.

A familiar schism of words replayed again in my head. This time the repeating scratch on the record fell to the end of the vinyl in a muffled vacuum of white noise.

The percussion section of hums, beeps, blips, and pings harmonized the soundtrack of the intensive care unit behind my head. I grew aware of my body, and consciousness flowed into the empty vessel reanimating me back to life.

My right hand reached for my head to cradle the weight of it. It weighed as much as ten bowling balls and pounded as members of a rock band were testing their amplifiers between the cranial walls.

Suddenly remembering the last time I awoke, I opened my eyes and shot up in bed, ready to fight off anyone who came close to me with another drug. But instead of being blinded and tied to the bed frame, I found myself in a room with blurry faces of loved ones who looked worse off than me.

“There now—slow it down, lass. You’re all right. It’s been a good while since you’ve been out.” Torchy’s strong Scottish accent punctuated the air. “Easy, now. We’re here. Just take a deep breath and relax yerself.”

I looked around, blinking and amazed I could see again. Khaldon and Harris were across the room, both in beds with bandages taped to their faces, necks, and legs. Briggs lay in a bed beside me, surrounded by an army of white coats and nurse uniforms.

I tried to croak out words. “What time—what day?”

“Relax, it’s all right.” Torchy eased his hands down on my shoulders and gave me a slight squeeze. I winced at the pain and he released.

“You’ve been out for nearly twelve hours since we left the island, Cheyenne. We’re damn lucky we made it out of there with only the pains we have.”

“Where?” Remembering it was severed, I reached for my bottom lip and was relieved to learn it was reattached. Faint stitches lined the entire bottom lip.

I guess they weren’t trying to stuff me and roast me over the fire.

“We’re are in Phuket. About five hundred miles from the Andamans.”

I leaned back in my bed. Khaldon and Harris waved at me. My fingers wiggled back at them, and instantly my anxiety lowered a few notches.

The stench of burned hair permeated my nose and a slight moan parted my lips. How long would it take to grow back?

I closed my eyelids, still so exhausted from the mission. “There were sharks.” My eyes flew open and I sat up bolt-right. “How did we get here?” My heart raced, and I pointed. “They—they were burning under the water.”

“We were saved by Merfolk. They surrounded us and the sharks swam away. We have them to thank for escorting us here to this hospital. Would ye believe there’s a specialty unit for supernaturals and their ailments all the way out here?”

I blinked at him, not sure if I’d heard him right. “Merfolk?”

“Oh, aye.” He nodded, and then he looked at the rest of the team.

“Dakota? We didn’t have time—she blew up—” I could barely choke out the words. “She’s gone.”

“Don’t be worrying yerself right now, lass. You need to tend to healing, ya kin? Be minding yer lucky stars above for these folks over there.” Torchy waved his hand to the nursing staff. “They saved yer vision, and they say after a few more pints of blood, your sight should be fully restored.”

I looked across the room to Briggs, and the four hospital staff members turned to stare at me. One guy had a deep purple black eye. Another orderly had several bite marks on his arms and hands. The woman, whom I suspected was the disembodied voice, held nothing but disdain on her face.

Well … maybe they deserved it for not explaining things to me.

There was nothing more I could do. Torchy was right. I needed more sleep, and the only thing to do was to heal.

I rolled away from him and faced the wall. Privately, I cried myself into oblivion. I had failed my sister, my family. It should have been me who died in that wretched cave.

Even through the tears, there was no peace in the escape of sleep. Only nightmares that had plagued me since Halloween.

H
auntingly familiar
, the creature’s hideous, maniacal laughter crawled a frigid, wet, dead finger up my spine. He forced his hand around my jaw and smashed my lips with his fingers.

The beast bit into my cheek and chin.

I kicked, screamed, thrashed, and struggled in vain to wrench away from his vice-like grip. His hand clamped on my face and sent shattering fractures of pain through my jaw.

Flight or fight. Self-preservation time.

A guttural wail escaped my throat. I pulled my hands free and gouged his face with my fingernails, trying desperately to dig into his eye sockets to blind him.

The cretin’s hands gripped like he wanted to rip off my jaw. He shoved his fingers into my mouth for a better hold. I grabbed his hand and pushed his fingers in deeper. My back molars crunched hard. I ground my jaw back and forth, stripping off flesh between my teeth. His blood gushed into my mouth, filling it with hot, coppery spurts. The beast relinquished his hold with a grunt of pain and let go of my face.

I fell backward, away from him. In an instant, he yanked me up by the arms and shook me like a rag doll. He held me there, panting. Face-to-face.

Time stopped.

For a split moment, milliseconds of reality, his eyes softened. Spider web creases around his eyes made him seem almost human. Glowing vermillion, an intense fire filled them with hatred.

I froze, cemented to the ground.

His eyes met mine once again. They were wide and conscious. At that moment, I emblazoned his image forever on my soul. It was the Red Man from my nightmares.

He seized me by the hair, and his hands stretched my neck in an unnatural arc to the left.

All I could do was watch him in paralytic horror, my heart pounding out of my chest. Black dots clouded my vision. He held my neck on display, his bountiful banquet awaiting him.

I watched as he licked his lips. He tenderly lavished my neck, stroking it, kissing it, basking in his sumptuous feast. His eyes danced time with the throbbing artery pulsing viciously under my skin.

“911—is this an emergency?” The voice from the phone came just in time to hear the devil sink his teeth deep into my neck and attenuate the life force out of me.

“
W
e’re losing him
! We need a dragon donor for adrenaline, or he’s not going to make it.”

I awoke to the anxious voice of the physician treating us at Phuket Hospital. My heart skipped a beat as I listened to Dr. Rattanakosin behind the hanging sheet between our hospital beds.

I tried to sit up, but the silver embedded in my skin had weakened me to the point of exhaustion. We were still in critical condition, even though we had been in the hospital for close to sixteen hours treating each of our specific injuries. Thankfully, my vision had fully returned after I had been given several pints of whole human blood. My head continued to ache from the silver poisoning, and I prayed the dreaded metal hangover would subside soon enough.

I croaked out words to the closed curtain. “Can Torchy donate the adrenaline?”

The curtain inched aside and revealed the doctor who had been treating all of us. Dr. Rattanakosin peered at me through his pop-bottle eyeglasses. His brown eyes were magnified as if they were four inches wide, and his eyebrows bushed out over the top rims. Some of the hairs over three inches long. The doctor opened the flimsy privacy curtain farther.

I urged on his curiosity. “It’s true. The gentleman who brought us in here is another dragon. Can he donate, or do you need a family donor?”

The doctor nodded at his nurse. “See if you can locate Mr. Gravenor.”

Briggs moaned, grinding his teeth against the pain. He looked terrible lying in the fetal position with his nostrils flaring and his jaw clenched. His labored breathing spewed thick spittle across his lips. The bleeding had slowed from his abdomen, but his color was awful. He was beginning to turn shades of green.

“Can you give him something to help him change into his dragon form, so he can heal himself?” I asked the doctor.

“I’m afraid it isn’t that easy, Miss O’Cuinn. You see, he has been gouged with a dragon scythe. These are elusive, magical blades. I’ve never seen one until tonight, but I’ve read about them in my medical journals.”

“What does that mean? That the scythe blade took away his ability to shift?” I heard Harris ask from across the room. His voice thick and labored since his lips were swollen.

“What it means is that the magical scythe has damaged his internal energy core vortex, which impairs the power source needed to transform. The injury looks to be remarkably precise. The creature who wielded this weapon knew exactly where to make the blow. Until Mr. Briggs has renewed strength, he cannot complete his healing. We have stopped most of the bleeding, but we need the dragon adrenaline to help him overcome the fatal damage of that magical blade.”

Briggs bunched up his fists to combat the pain. Utterly helpless to take away his agony, he never would’ve been in this situation if it weren’t for Dakota.

“Can’t you give him something for the pain?”

Dr. Rattanakosin replied, “We’ve maxed out the morphine dosages for him. His body is burning through it and is unable to provide relief.”

I slid off my bed and reached for his hands. “Hang in there, Briggs,” I whispered. “We’ll find you the help you need. Is there anyone you want us to call—someone you might know on this side of the planet who can help?”

His skin felt clammy under my palms. He swallowed hard as even more color drained from his face. He choked out the words. “Sister, father. I’ve sent for Kalina. Here, soon.”

“Good. You rest now. I’ll let the nurse know she should let them in as soon as they arrive.” A faint, anguished smile crossed my lips, and I kissed his forehead. His skin was hot as the asphalt of Disney World’s parking lot in August.

A slow tear caressed my cheek as my grief over Dakota overwhelmed me once again.

I am to blame for his pain.

I turned to walk through the hanging curtain to check on Khaldon and Harris. Still weakened, I tripped, fell forward, and caught hold of my IV pole to keep from crashing to the ground. I took the privacy curtain down with me in a clang of metal, spasm of pain, and tangle of canvas.

Khaldon leaned forward to help me, and I raised my hand to signal him to stop. The nurse grunted and
tsked
at me. She helped me to my feet, untangling the curtain from my blood line. She yanked the privacy sheet out of my arms, offering a
thank you very much
look, and she whisked it away into a laundry hamper.

I was pretty sure the nursing staff was still mad at me because of the way I kept biting them while they dug the silver out of my skin and muscles. I tried my best to not bare my fangs at her through most of the extraction, but I found it harder than I could manage. To finish removing the deeper pieces of silver embedded in my bones, the hospital staff had to secure me to the bed and sedate me several times. When I came to, I wouldn’t remember where I had been or what had happened, even though it had been explained to me several times prior.

Overall, I was lucky to be alive but the whole blood transfusions were taking longer than expected for healing. Dr. Rattanakosin had explained how after a severe silver breach, mending always took its toll and time on unlucky victims, especially newbies. Bagged blood was sufficient, but I needed to live-feed. We all did.

I took a step toward Khaldon and glanced over at Harris and the girl. She was conscious and drinking water. None of us presented much better than Briggs, but at least we were alive.

Khaldon sat on the edge of his bed across the narrow walkway with silver thermite oxide burns deep into his legs, hands, chest, and face. His skin had blackened from the third-degree burns. He also had a pint of whole blood draining into him, but his wounds were healing slowly due to the extensive damage from the silver poisoning as well.

I picked up the weapons lying on the sheet and then sat on the bed beside him. “Where did these come from?” I examined the dragon scythe blade, burnt metal arrow, and a crossbow bolt.

“This is the blade the Rakshasa used on Briggs. And this—” Khaldon plucked the arrow from my hand. He centered it over his left thigh. “This was the flaming silver thermite arrow I dug out of my leg.”

“Masochistic much? Do you like being reminded of horrible things that have happened to you?”

He shrugged and then winced at the effort. “Warriors historically keep their battle implements.” Khaldon handed me back the arrow and gingerly picked up the blade. “Figured Briggs would like to have this one, especially since it has caused him so much strife.” Khaldon grimaced as he tried to sit up straighter then leaned back against the pillows.

“So you’re going to give it to him as a souvenir? You want to keep the thing which almost burned you alive?”

“Indeed. And just for the record, the silver thermite did burn me—while I was alive.” He tried to dance his eyebrows at me, but failed miserably. “I have a couple of souvenirs for you too.”

I tilted my head in interest, wondering just what in hell he would take from that gawd-forsaken place—especially something that
I
would want to remember.

He leaned forward wincing and whispered close to my ear. “It’s in my satchel, but I don’t think you should take it out in here. Just open it.”

Intrigued and a little worried, I was hoping it wasn’t a severed head of a Rakshasa. I picked up the leather satchel stowed under his bed, carefully looking for any puddling body fluids. When the bag seemed innocent enough, I brought it up top and unbuckled the leather strap containing the elusive contents.

My eyes narrowed in disbelief. My hand flew to my mouth and immediately the pace of my heart jumped tenfold.