Clay waded faster but the current fought him. His arms pumped and water sprayed up around his chest. The river bottom was uneven and his boots kept sliding on the river bed.
His foot caught on something.
Clay went down hard on one knee. Water rushed past his waist and he threw his hands out to catch himself. The shotgun slipped from his grip.
“No—”
It hit the water and the current grabbed it. Clay lunged but his fingers closed on nothing. The shotgun tumbled past him, barrel over stock, and disappeared around the bend downstream.
“Clay!” Colt shouted from the bank.
Clay shoved himself up but his boots wouldn’t hold. Every time he got his footing, the rocks shifted under him. The birds were in the water now, closing fast. Their legs drove through the current like it wasn’t even there.
The lead bird was twenty feet from Clay.
Then ten.
Clay scrambled toward the bank, arms reaching, but the water pulled at him.
The bird’s legs bunched.
It launched itself into the air.
Colt’s hand went to his revolver and he drew.
SIDEARM EQUIPPED
Colt Single Action Army — .45
6/6
DEAD EYE: ACTIVATED
0:05
The bird hung above Clay with its wings spread wide and its talons slowly reaching towards him. Water droplets floated in the air around it like broken glass catching sunlight. Clay was frozen below it with his arms just starting to come up, his face locked in the beginning of a flinch.
0:04
Colt raised the revolver. His arm moved through the air and the barrel came up. He put the front sight on the bird’s chest and fired.
5/6
The recoil spread up through his wrist and he watched the muzzle flash bloom orange.
It punched into its chest just below the throat.
0:03
Colt brought the barrel back down and fired again before the first bullet had finished its work.
4/6
The second round hit higher, catching the bird in the neck. Blood started to mist out in a fine spray that hung in the air.
Colt swung his aim past the falling bird to the second one in the water. It was mid-stride with one leg lifted and its head stretched forward. The third bird was further back, just entering the river.
0:02
Colt fired at the second bird.
3/6
The shot went wide. He saw it pass just left of the bird’s head and disappear into the trees beyond.
He steadied his hand and aimed lower. At the leg that was about to come down.
0:01
He fired.
2/6
The bullet caught the bird’s leg just above the knee as the timer hit zero.
DEAD EYE flashed twice and disappeared.
Sound crashed back. The roar of the river. The birds screeching. Clay yelling something Colt couldn’t make out.
The first bird dropped. It hit the water next to Clay with a heavy splash, both rounds in its chest and neck. Its wings beat once against the current, then went still. The body pushed against the log.
Clay threw his arms up over his head and started pushing at the air. His eyes were squeezed shut.
“Clay!” Colt shouted. “Get up! Now!”
The second bird’s wounded leg buckled. It went down hard into the shallows with a screech. Water sprayed up around it as it thrashed, trying to stand. The third bird stopped behind it and lowered its head, making clicking sounds.
Clay’s eyes snapped open. He looked at the dead bird floating beside him, then at Colt. His face was pale.
He scrambled through the water and grabbed onto the bank with both hands.
Colt dropped to one knee and caught Clay’s arm. He pulled and Clay came up out of the water like he weighed nothing. His boots hit the grass and Colt had to step back to keep from falling over.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Clay spun around toward the river, breathing hard.
“There was five of them, Colt.”
Two more birds burst through the trees on the far bank. They splashed into the water and ran to the wounded one. All three of them gathered together, heads low, making sounds at each other. Sharp clicks mixed with low warbling calls.
The wounded bird tried to stand. Its leg gave out again and it went back down.
The three uninjured ones lifted their heads.
They looked across the river at Colt and Clay.
Then they charged.
“Climb,” Colt said. “Climb!”
He turned and ran for the nearest tree. The trunk was massive with low branches spread out thick enough to hold a man’s weight. Colt grabbed the lowest one and pulled himself up. His boots scraped against bark as he found footing.
His revolver slipped from his holster.
It tumbled down and hit the ground at the base of the tree with a thud.
“Shit,” Colt breathed.
He didn’t stop climbing. His hands found the next branch and he hauled himself higher. The bark bit into his palms but he kept moving.
Clay was right behind him. His wet clothes stuck to him and made every movement harder. Water dripped from his pants and his shirt clung to his chest. He grunted with each pull, fingers slipping on the wet bark before catching hold.
Below them, the birds hit the bank.
Colt heard them screech. Heard their talons scrape against the tree trunk. He looked down and saw one of them jumping, its beak snapping at Clay’s boots.
“Keep goin’,” Clay said through clenched teeth.
Colt reached up and grabbed another branch. He swung his leg up and his boot caught. He pushed himself higher. One of the birds jumped and clamped onto Clay’s boot.
“Ah—!”
Clay kicked hard but the bird’s beak had locked onto the leather. It yanked down with its full weight, using its body like an anchor.
The boot started to slide off Clay’s foot.
Clay kicked again and the boot came off in the bird’s beak and the bird fell back to the ground with it still clamped tight.
Clay pulled himself up two more branches fast, his bare foot scraping against bark. Colt climbed one more and stopped.
He looked down.
The three birds stood at the base of the tree. The one that had caught Clay’s boot was shaking it back and forth like it was trying to kill it.
The other two birds paced in circles below them. Their heads tilted back and those dark eyes tracked every movement Colt and Clay made.
Colt’s revolver lay in the dirt a few feet from the trunk, gleaming dull in the filtered light.
His chest heaved. He looked at Clay.
Clay was breathing just as hard. One boot on, one foot bare and already bleeding from the rough bark. His pants dripped water and his hands were scraped raw. He met Colt’s eyes.
“Well,” Clay said between breaths. “This is just great.”
Below them, one of the birds dropped the boot and screeched.
The other two answered.
They settled in at the base of the tree and didn’t move.
Colt looked down at the birds. They stood at the base of the tree with their heads tilted back, watching.
Clay shifted on his branch and winced.
“So what now?” Clay asked.
Colt’s eyes went to his revolver on the ground. Two rounds left in the cylinder. The birds stood between him and the gun.
“I got an idea,” Colt said.
Clay waited.
“You jump down. Get their attention.” Colt looked at him. “I activate Dead Eye, jump down behind them, kill as many as I can before time runs out.”
Clay stared at him.
“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”
“You got a better idea?”
“Yeah. We wait ‘em out.” Clay nodded at the birds below. “They’ll get bored eventually. Leave. Then we climb down.”
“For how long, Clay?”
“I don’t know. However long it takes.”
Colt looked past the trees toward the west. The light coming through the canopy had changed. Still bright, but the angle was different.
“We need to make it to that module,” Colt said. “Sun’s gettin’ low.”
Clay followed his gaze. His jaw tightened.
Neither of them wanted to think about what this forest would be like after dark. What else might come out when the light was gone.
Clay let out a long breath. “Alright. Your dumb plan it is.”
“You ready?”
“No.” Clay grabbed the branch above him and started climbing down. “But let’s do it anyway.”
He got to the lowest branch that would hold his weight and stopped. The birds tracked him as he moved. He looked at Colt one more time.
“Okay, I got their attention.”
Colt nodded.
Clay jumped.
He hit the ground hard and rolled. The birds’ heads snapped toward him.
Colt dropped from his branch.
DEAD EYE: ACTIVATED
0:05
The world stretched. Clay was frozen mid-roll with his arms tucked against his chest. The birds were turning toward him, their legs lifting in slow motion. Colt fell through the air with his hand reaching for the dagger at his belt.
MELEE WEAPON EQUIPPED
Conduit Dagger
0:04
He landed on the nearest bird’s back. The impact drove them both down and Colt brought the dagger around fast, burying it in the bird’s skull just behind the eye.
Heat flooded up his arm and settled in his chest. The bird’s Puha rushing into him through the blade.
PROJECT: LAST STAND v1.10
Shinki: 1
Puha: 134.2
0:03
He yanked the dagger free and rolled off the dead bird. The other two were still turning toward Clay, their movements stretched out.
Colt’s hand shot out and grabbed his revolver from the dirt. He came up on one knee and aimed at the second bird.
0:02
SIDEARM EQUIPPED
Colt Single Action Army — .45
2/6
He fired twice. Both rounds punched into the bird’s chest.
0/6
0:01
He looked at Clay. His brother was almost on his feet now with his eyes on the third bird.
Colt flipped the dagger in his hand and threw it.
The blade spun through the air toward Clay, handle over tip.
0:00
DEAD EYE flashed and disappeared.
Time slammed back. The second bird dropped.
The dagger was in mid-air between them, spinning.
“Clay!” Colt yelled. “Catch!”
Clay’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit.”
The third bird’s head snapped toward him.
Clay reached out but the dagger was spinning too fast. It hit his palm and bounced off, tumbling to the ground.
The bird screeched.
“Fuck!” Colt yelled.
He dropped the empty revolver and ran. The bird’s beak was open, going for Clay’s throat. Colt hit it from the side and wrapped his arms around its body.
They went down together. The bird thrashed under him, trying to twist its head around to bite. Its talons raked at his legs but couldn’t get a good angle.
Colt held on. The bird was stronger than Colt, but he kept his grip tight and didn’t let go.
“Clay!” Colt grunted. “The knife!”
Clay scrambled across the ground and grabbed the dagger. He came up fast and drove it down into the bird’s neck.
The thrashing stopped.
He let go and rolled off the dead bird onto his back. His chest heaved. His legs burned where the talons had scraped him.
Clay stood over him with the dagger still in his hand. “You alright?”
“Yeah.” Colt sucked in air. “I’m good.”
He pushed himself up to sitting and looked at the three dead birds.
Clay held the dagger out to him. “That was stupid.”
“Worked though.”
“Barely.”
Colt took the dagger and slid it back into his belt. He grabbed his revolver from the dirt and brushed it off.
A low growl rolled through the trees.
Clay had gone still. “Tell me you heard that.”
“Yeah… I did.”
The growl came again. Closer this time.
Colt looked to his left.
The saber-tooth stood maybe thirty yards away between two massive tree trunks. Its fur caught the filtered light coming through the canopy. Those fangs hung down past its jaw.
It looked Colt in the eye and let out a roar.
