Chapter 13: On the Run

Uzari planted her axe into the last of them, dropping wearily to her knees right after. With a quick jerk, she pulled the blade free just before the body melted into a hissing, solidified mass. Several of the crew collapsed to the earth, while others leaned heavily against mossy roots or braced their hands against their thighs. Eddington fell straight onto his back, his limbs twitching with exhaustion. Only Hinelin and Giddeon remained upright.

“How…do they keep…finding us?” Oomah lay flat atop a rotting tree that had fallen ages ago, her eyes staring blankly up into the dark canopy. “It’s hopeless.”

“How many clones does that make?” Hinelin asked, adapting the term the team had collectively fallen into using. They still had no idea what these horrors actually were.

“Thirty-nine,” Eddington muttered, wiping a thick smear of sweat and mud from his brow. “Or something like that. I lost count.”

“They’re…more aggressive,” Vessa said, her breathing ragged as she dropped into a low squat. She stared intensely at the petrified remains of a clone at her feet, the dagger trembling in her hand as blood plopped rhythmically onto the scattered leaves of the forest floor. “It’s like they’re learning.”

“What do you mean?” Kilner asked, leaning heavily against a mossy trunk.

Vessa tilted her head toward Giddeon and the team leader. “They only sneak up on those two. Otherwise, they charge right for our weakest members.”

“She’s right.” Eddington propped himself up on an elbow, still breathing hard. “Hinelin dropped one with a feint an hour ago.” He nodded at the solid mass near the soldier’s feet. “The next copy dodged the exact same move perfectly.”

Oomah’s gaze remained locked on the canopy. “What kind of monsters are they?”

“Probably a hive mind,” Giddeon said. “One person duplicating themselves. I knew something similar on Earth One.”

Vessa’s eyebrows rose. “Similar? To these nightmares? The more I hear of Earth One, the more I’m convinced we’re safer out here.”

“If we were on Earth One, most of you would be dead already,” Giddeon said bluntly.

Kilner crouched, thunking his axe into a thick root bulging out of the ground. “This planet really is like a game. So, you believe someone can infinitely replicate themselves, and they’re sending copies out to hunt us?”

Giddeon shrugged. “I never said infinitely. We don’t know the extent of their power, assuming I’m even correct.”

“Taking all factors into account, the probability of you being correct is 82.7%,” Johnny piped in. “At least according to AIGES analysis.”

“No, I think you’re on to something.” Eddington sounded uncharacteristically animated as he struggled to stand, wincing and bracing against the stump. He wagged a finger in the air. “We can do this—we can trick them!”

“Whaddya mean?” Orion asked, wiping his sweat-slicked brow. He flexed his wrist, finally able to grip his axe with both hands again.

“If a single host is spawning these copies, they see what the proxies see,” Eddington explained, his eyes widening as the words tumbled out. “That’s why we can’t break line of sight—every time we put one down, the source watches which vector we choose for our escape.”

Uzari nodded. “That would explain how they’re tracking us so easily.”

“Exactly!” Eddington nearly fell over with excitement, but caught himself on the wood, sliding back down to sit. “When they attack next, most of us retreat—no, wait. It has to be a sequence.” He looked at the team leader. “Hinelin, you need to shout out our heading. Make sure the proxies hear it. We sprint in that direction, but the second someone kills the final copy, we cut hard to a different vector.”

Orion shook his head slowly, looking baffled. “Can someone translate Nerdian for me?”

“The last clone we kill will see which way we run,” Kilner explained. “We pretend to go one direction, kill the last clone, then go in another direction.”

Orion nodded. “Good plan.” He turned to Eddington. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“You think it’ll work?” Oomah asked.

“It’s what we’ve got,” Giddeon stated. “It would work on Earth One against the Awakening.”

“Who?” Vessa stared at him.

“Ask me another time.”

Hinelin studied their exhausted faces, his hand gripping his rifle tightly. “Everyone clear on the mission?”

“Just yell out the fake heading,” Kilner answered.

The team leader held his open palm out. “Hand me your axe and I’ll take care of everything.”

The skinny man frowned. “This better work,” he muttered, reluctantly handing over the weapon.

Twenty minutes later, the cracking of a tree branch and the ruffling of tall ferns signaled they were no longer alone. Two clones rushed out of the trees while Giddeon picked up a third sneaking through the foliage, creeping toward Hinelin.

“Ambush!” Orion warned, brandishing his axe.

“Run!” Hinelin roared, pointing north.

As Eddington and Oomah booked it north, the clone stalking Hinelin leapt from the brush, leading with the jagged tip of a crude spear gripped tightly in its hands.

Giddeon, anticipating the attack, lunged and swung upward with his looted blade, splitting the clone’s jaw in half.

“Still no mana,” Johnny droned in his head. “Our original theory stands—gotta kill the main body.”

Giddeon kicked the clone away before it could solidify. Spinning toward the others, he caught a glimpse of Vessa, Uzari, and Kilner finishing the second copy before the three of them bolted north.

They’re probably just trying to slow us down. Like a form of CC.

“CC?” Johnny queried.

Crowd control. In games, some players specialize in it to the point they’re called CC’ers. They hinder their opponents while heavy hitters finish them off. I suspect the clone maker’s a CC’er.

“If true, we aren’t being hunted; we’re being corralled.” Johnny sounded grim.

Which is why we need to shake them, fast.

Giddeon sprinted past Hinelin as the team leader tangled with the last clone, exactly as planned. “Hurry!” he shouted loudly over his shoulder. “The clearing’s just north!”

A second later, the sharp thunk of Hinelin’s axe finding its mark echoed through the trees.

As he ran several hundred feet through dense foliage, a sharp hiss from the brush stopped him cold. “Gid…over here!”

Giddeon skidded to a halt as Uzari’s hand shot out from the shadow of a massive oak, waving him into the shade. Ducking behind the trunk, he joined the rest of the team as they huddled in breathless silence, hearts racing. Seconds later, the sound of feet pounding the undergrowth echoed through the forest, and Hinelin’s heavy form thundered past their hiding spot.

“Hinelin!” Giddeon called out in a harsh whisper.

The team leader ground to an abrupt halt, whirling around with Kilner’s axe held high. The blade dipped the instant recognition hit. “East now,” he snapped, pivoting and bolting in the new direction.

Giddeon claimed the rear just behind Eddington as the group booked it east. The chubby man struggled to match Oomah’s desperate pace, though she was nearing her own physical limit, her movements heavy and sluggish. Orion slowed his stride, letting Vessa and Kilner pass before wrapping his muscular arm around his sister’s waist to drive her forward. Giddeon sighed internally, moving up to flank Eddington and doing the same, half-lifting the bulky man as they tore through the brush.

Five minutes later, Hinelin executed a sharp pivot, doubling back toward their original bearing straight south.

“I sure hope this works,” Johnny spoke up. “By the way, stat distribution?”

Even split, Giddeon thought back. I don’t know what’s ahead.

“Done.”

His attributes shifted. The unnatural Speed and Endurance plateaued as his physical form re-stabilized, and a wave of jarring, acute precision flooded his awareness. The forest sharpened. The distant chirp of birds hiding in the canopy and the rich scent of rain-soaked earth invaded his consciousness. Frantic thoughts calmed, locking into a state of pure calculated balance.

They marched for hours. Hinelin kept them moving at a relentless pace, only allowing brief pauses before driving them deeper into the wilderness. By the time seven full hours had passed, the thick jungle finally gave way to a sweeping, rock-strewn basin. Hinelin called a halt at the tree line, his eyes fixed intently on the yawning mouth of a cave a few hundred feet across the open stone.

“I can’t take another step,” Eddington moaned, collapsing heavily onto his knees.

Vessa, Orion, and Oomah instantly dropped to the dirt, falling flat on their backs in sheer physical surrender.

“I’m done,” Vessa breathed, her head lolling to the side, her eyes locking on Oomah before fluttering shut. “She’s done too.”

“They can just kill us now if they want,” Orion groaned. “Just let us rest.”

Hinelin looked everyone over. They were spent. “It seems the plan worked,” he said, his eyes scanning the tree line. “Not a single clone sighting since the afternoon.”

“We should check out the cave,” Uzari suggested. She knelt on one knee, sweat carving winding tracks through the grime on her skin. “Some of us can’t go on.”

“Agreed,” Hinelin replied. “I’ll scout it out.”

The team leader sat on a nearby rock, his fingers fumbling through a standard self-inspection before heading into the unknown. He ensured he had two rounds loaded in his double-barrel rifle, then counted the remaining ammunition in his pouch. His hands moved sluggishly as he checked the extra weapons sheathed on his body.

“I’ll check it out,” Giddeon volunteered.

He watched as the older man struggled to shift the weight of his heavy iron. Hinelin had been lugging the rifle for over seven hours without the benefit of Giddeon’s enhanced Strength and Endurance. He was nearing his limit.

Hinelin started to push himself up, then froze halfway through the motion. He stared down at his hands, grimacing as his fingers shook with fatigue, making a conscious choice to sit back down. The air left his lungs in a guttural hiss.

“Run at the first sign of danger.”

Giddeon nodded. “Keep watch here.” He looked at the others. “Anyone have a light?”

“Here.” Kilner handed over a flexible black strap with a small, yellowed plastic light affixed to it. “Ancient tech. It charges off sunlight, so don’t expect it to be as powerful as a neuron lamp. Strap it around your head to keep your hands free.”

Giddeon slid the contraption over his head, adjusting it snug against his brow. “Thanks,” he murmured, checking his own gear. “But won’t it just stop working as soon as I turn it on?”

Kilner glanced toward the wood line, then back at Giddeon. “I tested it a few days ago when we…had the leisure time to do so. It works just fine.”

“How’s that?” Hinelin asked.

“My guess is whatever’s messing with our tech is frying grids, not batteries or nano boards.” Kilner shrugged. “I’ll test it more later, if I’m not dead.”

“You boys can mess with your science experiments another time.” Vessa stepped up, looking around nervously. “But for now, what should we do?”

Giddeon stared at her as he snapped his rifle’s breech closed, causing her to wince. “Pray the cave’s uninhabited,” he replied, turning on his heel to head toward the dark opening.

“Be careful, Gid,” Uzari whispered as he passed her by.

He kept his rifle low and ready while approaching the cave. The entrance was wide enough for his frame, though the stone ceiling hung low at the opening, barely a few feet above his head. He paused, straining to hear over the rush of his own pulse.

Silence.

Giddeon crept inside, his headlamp slicing the pitch black. The space opened up into a single, enclosed chamber with no offshooting tunnels or deep crevasses for threats to hide in.

He swept his light across the stone floor; the beam stopped dead.

Sprawled amid broken branches and leaves was a body, its clothes stiff with dark, dried blood. Giddeon’s heartrate spiked as he hastily swung his rifle from side to side, searching the shadows. The rest of the chamber was empty.

Backing out into the daylight, he turned, only to find Hinelin just outside, rifle at the ready. The man’s enhanced Endurance, while much lower than Giddeon’s current boosted stats, was helping the team leader to push through the pain. The rest of the crew remained in a huddle, watching them from afar.

“Anything?” Hinelin asked quietly.

“A body,” Giddeon said. “I didn’t get too close.”

“The rest of the cave?”

“Empty. Just one small chamber.”

Hinelin scanned the tree line, his jaw tight. “Let’s make sure it’s not a trap.”

Giddeon led the way back inside. He slowly panned his head from side to side, his headlamp cutting through the shadows, allowing Hinelin to confirm the chamber was empty as the team leader tracked the light with his barrel. Looking down, Giddeon pinned his beam directly on the corpse.

“No rot yet,” Hinelin muttered, crouching a few feet from the body. “A day or two old, max. Hard to tell what killed her from this angle.”

Giddeon stepped up, his boot crunching on dead leaves. He slung his rifle, pulling out his three-fold axe and clicking the shaft into place. Pushing the heavy beard of the blade under her near shoulder, he pried upward. “Flipping her away. Be ready.”

Hinelin kept his muzzle locked onto the inert form. As the body rolled over, Giddeon instantly leaped back to clear the line of fire, keeping his headlamp beam pinned to the corpse.

The light illuminated long, brown hair framing a slim face dominated by oversized, slanted eyes. The ears were the strangest part—long, sweeping upward to sharp points. She wore a tattered, white-and-green dress stained with dark blood, and silver-lined crimson boots. A red belt was cinched tight around her waist, weighed down by several colored pouches. Stiff, graying fingers were still locked around a gnarled wooden staff, clutching it desperately to her chest.

“She’s not quite human,” Hinelin muttered in surprise as he knelt beside the body. He pressed the barrel’s tip near the torn fabric of her dress to reveal the wounds beneath. “Multiple lacerations. Whatever did this used a curved blade, something wider than a dagger. Look at the entry point here—the steel hooked into the flesh when it pulled back.”

Giddeon stared at the grisly wounds. “I’m still trying to tackle the fact I’m looking at what appears to be an elf.”

“Oh, elves are real,” Johnny’s voice chimed in his head. “Not a predominant race on Enivia, but plentiful enough.”

Thanks for letting me know.

“You never asked.”

Ok, fine. Just tell me everything about Enivia I don’t know.

“How many years do you have to spare?” Johnny retorted.

Never mind.

Giddeon’s focus snapped back to the physical world, realizing he’d been staring blankly at Hinelin. The man was squinting fiercely, shielding his eyes with his hand from the direct glare of the headlamp.

Tilting his chin down, Giddeon aligned the light back to the corpse.

“Elves? You mean like from Christmas?” Hinelin’s brow was furrowed.

Giddeon would have chuckled if not for the seriousness of the situation. “No, not like Christmas. Like elves from fantasy games. Long lives, sharp senses. Most look like…this.” He pointed at the woman for lack of a better explanation. “In typical tropes they’re usually rangers, or magic-users.”

Hinelin’s frown deepened. “Magic-users? You mean like performers who do card tricks?”

Giddeon shook his head. “No. Real power. Like that arrogant bastard back at camp, Lannister. The shockwave he threw from his bare hands—most would call it a wind spell, or telekinesis.”

“I never saw whatever he was flinging,” Hinelin replied. “I just knew it barreled through me like an uncontrolled hover ship.”

Giddeon paused, running his headlamp beam over the deep gashes in the woman’s dress. “A hover ship? I’ve only seen a few ever on Earth One.”

“They’re rather commonplace on Earth Two,” Hinelin replied. “I tend to forget how far behind Earth One-ers are technologically.”

“We get by,” Giddeon murmured as he slowly circled the body, looking for any more clues as to what killed her. “I’m not sure how close our mythology and the things we’ve seen on this planet match up, but I can say from playing games a lot of it feels familiar.”

“Seems I’ll need to brush up on games, then,” Hinelin muttered. He nodded at the body. “What should we do with her? We need rest, and this cave’s it, like it or not.”

Should we do anything with the body before we move it? Giddeon prodded Johnny’s digital neuro waves. Rituals…the like?

“Elves normally burn their dead or send them out to sea,” Johnny replied. “Neither of which you can do right now.”

Giddeon removed his headlamp and handed it to Hinelin, who immediately placed it on his head and kept the beam focused on the corpse.

“There’s nothing we can do in this situation,” Giddeon said, kneeling by the body. “Except this.”

He pressed her dry eyelids closed. Grabbing the staff, he wrenched it upward. Her rigid finger joints cracked loudly as the wood broke free. Once the weapon was clear, he forced her unyielding arms to cross over her chest.

“I hate saying it, but we’re desperate,” Hinelin admitted. “If there’s something on her that can help us survive…no disrespect to the dead intended.”

Giddeon nodded, his eyes shifting to the colored pouches tied to her belt. “Let’s check her.”

They stripped the corpse of her gear, checking her pockets with respectful efficiency. Finding nothing else, they carried her to the back wall of the chamber and covered her with dry leaves and broken branches, concealing her the best they could.

Giddeon leaned the staff against the cavern wall as he opened a plum-colored pouch with tie strings.

“Anything there?” Hinelin asked, inspecting a plain brown pouch he had taken from the elf’s belt.

“A whole lot of nothing,” Giddeon replied, peering inside the plum-colored silk. He tied its top strings around his belt. “It might find some use if we ever get any gear.” He nodded at the brown pouch. “What’s in yours?”

Hinelin tilted his headlamp down, casting the light directly onto his hand as he emptied the contents of his bag into his palm. His face fell. Five flat, odd-shaped stones with crude symbols carved into their faces clinked together.

“Just some pebbles,” he grunted, tossing them back into the pouch with a disappointed sigh. “Probably some superstitious native junk.”

“Best to hold on to them, just in case,” Giddeon suggested. “For all we know, those are some kind of magic runes or high-value currency around here.”

Hinelin nodded, tying the pouch to his belt. “Let’s get back to the crew.”