First Strike Page 17

  Not much longer!

  The more he had worked on his bounds, the more convinced he'd become that whatever the Hatchling had used wasn't rope. The loops were too pliable for rope and not abrasive enough. The Hatchling made a snorting sound.

  Kraft renewed his frantic attempt to loosen his wrists. He could feel the material sliding down almost to his knuckles, but he couldn't quite extricate his hands. If he rolled onto his side, he might be able to apply more leverage. There was one hitch, however. If he moved, he might awaken the Hatchling. To hell with it!

  Kraft eased onto his left side, facing the hybrid. He extended his legs and peered down at his ankles. The moonlight revealed the material the Hatchling had used to bind him, a strip of camouflage fabric!

  Where the…

  Kraft glanced at his right leg and discovered a ragged tear in his pants. The damn Hatchling had torn two strips from his pants leg in order to tie him up!

  Siad tossed in his sleep, shifting his body toward Kraft.

  Was the Hatchling waking up?

  Kraft held his breath, his eyes glued to the hybrid, but Siad slept on. Yeah! He grit his teeth as he exerted his muscles to the utmost, his face turning red, his veins bulging. Go!

  Go!

  Go!

  The fabric abruptly parted, taking him unawares, his right arm wrenching outward and his left thudding against the ground. He stared at Siad.

  No reaction.

  Kraft quickly unraveled a solitary loop clinging to his drenched skin, then bent forward at the waist to undo his ankles.

  What an asshole!

  Use the switchblade!

  Kraft straightened, diving his right hand into his pants pocket, his fingers grasping for the switchblade. And there it was! His fingertips had just touched part of the knife, a smile of relief beginning to uplift his face, when the hybrid woke up.

  No!

  Kraft saw the Hatchling stir, its arm starting to raise as its body uncurled from its slouching position. Dammit! He swiftly laid down, on his back, his hands behind him, exactly as he'd been when the mutant had fallen asleep. Not a second too soon.

  The Hatchling opened its eyes, gazing at the. moon, then looked at Kraft. "Are you still here? I didn't think you liked my company."

  "Up yours, Franky!" Kraft snapped.

  "For the last time, my name is Siad," the hybrid stated archly.

  "Sure, Franky," Kraft said, goading the Hatchling. "Whatever you say is cool." Siad stood and walked over to Kraft. "When it comes time to eat you, I think I'll start with your tongue. You seem to have little intelligent use for it." He grinned.

  "Get bent, mother!" Kraft retorted.

  Siad returned to the tree and leaned down, taking hold of an object lying on the ground. When he rose, he pointed the object at Kraft.

  "My M-l6!" Kraft blurted out.

  "And who says humans are dumb?" Siad quipped, chuckling.

  "What did you do with my Colts?" Kraft demanded.

  "I tossed them into the bushes," Siad answered.

  "Only a mutant would pull a stupid stunt like that!" Kraft said, deliberately insulting his enemy. He needed to distract the hybrid somehow, to do something to divert the deviate's attention while he freed his ankles. Above all, he couldn't let the Hatchling roll him over. There was no telling what Siad might do if the mutant discovered his hands were loose!

  Cool!

  He had to play it real cool!

  Siad sighed. "Why do all humans fed they must insult or kill all mutants?"

  "Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Kraft cracked.

  "You are a typical example of my reason for distrusting humans," Siad observed. "Mindless hatred is endemic to your species. Why do you think I discarded your pistols and the knife you had hidden in your boot? If you still had them, I'd be dead right now."

  "You've got that right, dude," Kraft said.

  Siad turned, staring to the north. "There must be a better place!" he declared passionately. Kraft grinned. The dummy had its back to him! He began to slide his hands from under his back. "What are you babbling about?"

  "Is it babble?" Siad asked, more to himself than Kraft. "I hope not. I've taken my life in my hands by deserting the Spider."

  "Deserting?" Kraft repeated in bewildering. "Say! Where the hell are you taking me, anyway? The Kingdom?"

  Siad shook his head. "No. The Kingdom is my past." He pointed to the north. "Out there lies my destiny."

  Kraft's hands were by his side. He inched his right hand toward the pocket containing his switchblade.

  "This is unreal! It isn't bad enough I get my butt captured by a mutant! It has to be a wacko mutant!"

  "I wouldn't expect you to understand," Siad said.

  "So clue me in," Kraft prompted. "I ain't going nowhere!" Siad placed the M-16's stock on the ground and leaned on the barrel. You're a human. You know nothing of what it's like to be a mutant. Why should I waste my time explaining my motives to you?"

  "Suit yourself!" Kraft rejoined. "But you are lugging me with you, and I'm kind of curious about where you're taking me."

  "I'm taking you north, into the area once known as the State of Oregon," Siad disclosed. .

  "What's in Oregon?" Kraft inquired, slipping his hand into the right pocket and gripping his cherished switchblade.

  "Peace, I hope," Siad stated.

  "Peace? On this world? You must be dreaming!" Kraft said, taking the switchblade out.

  "Maybe I am," Siad said wistfully. "But I am tired of the status quo. Living in the Kingdom is torment. The Spider rules with an iron hand, and even his children must live under his complete control." He paused. "We can't make a move without Father knowing it. He even knows our thoughts! We're slaves just like the human females we seize, only my brothers are too dense to see the truth!" Kraft quickly sat up and bent toward his ankles. Keep talking! All he needed was a few seconds!

  "There must be some place where I can live in peace," Siad went on. "Somewhere I'll be free to make my own decisions. Somewhere where others won't want to kill me. Where I won't be labeled a mutant or a mongrel crossbreed. Part of me is human, you know."

  Kraft didn't bother to respond. He'd never heard anything so ridiculous in his life! A groddy Hatchling wanting to be accepted as a person! What a laugh! He held the switchblade under his right shin to muffle the click, then pressed the release button. The five-inch blade snapped out.

  "Am I asking too much out of life?" Siad was saying. "If I look long enough, I know I'll find what I'm seeking. For starters, I'll stay with Reptilian. He won't mind putting me up." Kraft applied the knife to the camouflage fabric securing his ankles. A few short strokes, and the material dropped to the grass.

  "I've heard about this city," Siad continued, "Maybe you've heard of it too. A city where humans and mutants live in harmony, as brothers. It's supposed to be located far to the north of here. Do you know about it?"

  Kraft kept his eyes on the Hatchling's back. "Nope. Doesn't ring a bell." He rose to a squatting posture.

  "I heard about it from a human we captured fifteen years ago," Siad mentioned. "She had lived in the city for a while, knew it well, and Father forced her to tell him all about it. Several of my brothers and I were permitted to listen in, and they all suspected she was lying. But not me. I know she was telling the truth. I know there is a city out there, a Utopia for mutants and humans alike. And I know I could learn to live with your kind if they accept me for what I am."

  Kraft stood and cautiously crept toward the hybrid, his switchblade held low, near his waist.

  "You probably think I'm insane," Siad said. "My own brothers believe I'm strange. Except for Chanc, of course. And the only reason Chanc understands is because, like me, his human half predominates emotionally."

  Kraft grinned as he snuck to within a yard of the preoccupied Hatchling. The hybrid was a fool! Why was the jerk-face unburdening itself now, of all times? Kraft couldn't careless about the mutant's personal problems. He sensed the Hatchling
was simply getting something off his chest, something it might have held inside for a long time.

  "As for you," Siad stated, sighing, "I'm afraid I will be compelled to consume you to sustain myself. Whenever I get hungry, I'll take a few bites out of you to satisfy my appetite. Don't worry, though. I'll try and keep you alive as long as I can."

  Kraft was two feet from his target. "You're all heart, shit-head!" Siad whirled, stunned.

  Kraft never gave the Hatchling a chance. He brought his switchblade up and in, sinking the blade into Siad's neck below the chin and slashing the knife to the right, tearing a jagged line in Siad's throat. Siad gurgled, dropping the M-16, lunging at the human.

  Kraft stumbled backwards a few feet with the hybrid's talons clawing at his face. He felt a burning sensation in his right cheek as one of Siad's swipes tore him open. Undaunted, Kraft yanked his switchblade out of the hybrid's neck and drove it higher, going for Siad's right eye, plunging the knife into the hybrid's black orb.

  Siad snarled and backhanded Kraft, sending him sprawling onto his back, the switchblade still imbedded in his eye. Doubling over in agony, Siad gripped the switchblade handle and tugged, wrenching the knife free. "My eye!" he bellowed shrilly, enraged.

  Kraft rolled onto his hands and knees, knowing he had to do something and do it fast! The Hatchling was going to rip into him, no holds barred, and he was unarmed.

  Siad glared at Kraft with his good eye, his lips twitching, drool dripping from his fangs. "You'll pay for this, human! Oh, howyou'll pay!" He hefted the switchblade in his upper right arm. "I'll carve you into pieces with your own knife! How's that for irony?"

  Kraft spotted the M-16 lying on the ground about four feet behind the Hatchling. It was his only hope!

  Siad took a step forward. "Where should I start?'' he growled. "Should I do to you what you did to me?" His mouth contorted in a twisted grin. "Or should I start with your pecker? Isn't that the word you humans use? Yes! I'll cut off your pecker and make you watch while I eat it!" Kraft rose to a crouch, watching the arm holding his switchblade. Concentrate on the arm! his mind warned. Nothing else! The slightest slip and he was dead! He could not afford a lapse in his attention, not for a second.

  Siad was wheezing, spittle frothing his lips, yellow blood flowing from his ravaged throat. "Are you ready, human?"

  Kraft backed up a stride. The arm! Focus on the arm!

  "Say good-bye to your pecker!" Siad roared, and charged..

  Even prepared, Kraft was unable to avoid the Hatchling's bullish rush. Two arms encircled his waist and lifted him, propelling him rearward, while a third arm raked his forehead, digging deep. The fourth buried the switchblade into his left shoulder.

  No!

  Kraft was conscious of blood trickling over his eyebrows and onto his eyes, and of an intense stinging in his left shoulder, and then he was brutally slammed into the trunk of a tree. Vertigo briefly engulfed him as he slumped to the earth. Somewhere, someone was laughing. His awareness returned with astonishing clarity, and he saw the Hatchling standing above him, snickering,

  Siad wagged the switchblade. "That's just for starters, human pig! Before I'm done, you'll plead for mercy!" He paused. "I should thank you for showing me the error of my ways! How could I ever have expected to live in peace and harmony with humans? You are all alike! You're all ready to kill at any provocation My brothers and father were right!" Kraft was woozy, struggling to concentrate, knowing his life was on the line. It was do or die time! But what could he possibly do against the Hatchling's superior strength without his switchblade?

  Siad suddenly coughed, more spittle seeping from the corners of his mouth: "Let's get this over with!" he stated.

  Kraft's brainstorm struck at the very last instant. He saw the Hatchling leaning toward him, sneering, bending toward his genitals. Adrenaline coursed through his body, electrifying him, and he moved, reaching out and grabbing one of the mutant's left wrists. He yanked on the wrist even as he shifted to the right, with the desired effect.

  Siad was pulled off balance, toppling forward, his other left arm carving furrows in Kraft's right forearm. Kraft dropped onto his right shoulder, retaining his grip on the hybrid's left wrist, hauling on the wrist for all he was worth. He saw the mutant's face smash into the tree, and he released the wrist and scrambled to his feet. Move! his mind screamed. He ran toward the M-16, the weapon glimmering in the moonlight, and nothing had ever looked so beautiful as that gun, his sole hope of salvation. Siad spun, shaking his head, snarling, then lumbering after the human.

  Kraft didn't risk a backward glance. With a resolute singleness of purpose he raced to the rifle, launching himself into the air to cover the final yard, landing on his injured shoulder, and flinching as he scooped up the M-16. He twirled, leveling the rifle, releasing the safety and squeezing the trigger as the Hatchling hurtled toward him. Siad screeched as the slugs tore through his body.

  Kraft's lips were set in firm lines as he emptied half the magazine into the hybrid, pouring round after round into Siad's torso and head.

  Siad went down to his knees, dropping the switchblade.

  Kraft ceased firing. He slowly stood, the M-l 6 trained on his foe. The Hatchling, incredibly, was still alive, but barely. Swaying and bubbling yellow blood, Siad was on the verge of collapse. Kraft walked up to the Hatchling. "Eat my pecker, huh? Not fucking likely!"

  Siad hissed. It was his ultimate, terminal act of defiance.

  Incensed, Kraft raised the M-16 and bashed the stock into the Hatchling's face. Again and again and again, until the hybrid's grotesque features were a mass of pulpy flesh and dripping gore. Winded, he stepped back.

  Siad, the mutant in search of a dream, the Hatchling seeking peace and harmony, pitched over into eternity.

  Kraft's legs abruptly became unsteady and his hands started trembling. He staggered away from the corpse, then sank to the dank earth. Damn! He'd done it! This Freedom Force business wasn't so hard after all! He wiped his right sleeve across his forehead to stem the flow of blood. His eyelids were caked and the corners of his eyes were filled with blood, but his eyes were clear. Now what?

  Kraft took deep breaths, slowly recovering. What should he do next' He had to find the others, but which way was the right way? He didn't know where he was in relation to the spot where he'd been captured. Not only that, he didn't know in which direction the Kingdom was located. He guessed to the south because the damn Hatchling had mentioned they were traveling north, away from the Kingdom. But what if he was wrong7What if he went south, and wound up penetrating deeper into the forest? He could get hopelessly lost in no time.

  So what the hell should he do?

  He rose and crossed to the tree Siad had used. Rest. He required rest. Sighing, he slid his battered, bleeding body to the ground, propping his back against the trunk. His blood loss worried him. If he lost too much, he'd never make it out of the wilderness. The prospect of internal bleeding was another factor. Of all the lousy places to die!

  Kraft laid his head back, using the rough trunk for support, and idly gazed skyward. He recalled the course Blade had taught before their departure from the Force HQ, a course on determining direction in the woods. Part of the instruction had dealt with compass reading, but his compass had been in his backpack. Blade had also provided pointers on deducing direction at night. What was it the big guy had said?

  Something about one of the Dippers.

  Kraft studied the stars. He didn't know one from the other, but he knew the Dippers when he saw them. The Big Dipper was easy to find, but it took several minutes to locate the Little Dipper, According to Blade, the North Star was pan of one of the Dippers, situated in one of the handles. But which one? Was the North Star in the Big Dipper or the Little Dipper? The North Star could serve as a guide if he could only remember!

  He couldn't.

  Exasperated, he decided to wait until daylight. All he had to do then was note the sun's position and bear in mind the basic rule: the sun rose i
n the east and set in the west. If he aligned his right arm with the rising sun, then his left arm would be pointing west. North would be in front of him, south to his back. Easy as pie.

  Except for one thing.

  He still didn't know where the hell the Kingdom was! North? South? East? West?

  Shit! Shit! Shit!

  Kraft closed his eyes, fatigue pervading every pore. A little snooze and he'd be as good as new. Then he'd look for some clue as to which direction he should take to rejoin the others. His eyelids drooped and within seconds he was asleep.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Athena felt the terror wetting up inside of her, and she struggled to

  remain calm, to stay alert. She didn't want to give the Hatchlings the satisfaction

  of seeing her afraid.

  "Father is eager to see you again," Syph commented from her right. He was holding her right arm, hauling her up the Tower stairwell toward the Spider's

  chamber. Another Hatchling held her left arm.

  "What a pleasant surprise having you back," mentioned the hybrid who

  had greeted them at the Tower entrance and introduced himself as Chanc. "You'll get yours soon enough!" Athena asserted. "Just wait!" "Syph told us there are two others with you," Chanc remarked. "If you're

  thinking they will rescue you, you're wrong. Seven of our brothers have gone to

  take care of them."

  "Good," Athena said.

  "Good?" Chanc repeated quizzically.

  "Yep. That means there will soon be seven less Hatchlings in the world,"

  Athena taunted.

  "Gloat while you can, woman," Chanc advised.

  "I hope father lets us have you!" Syph declared eagerly.