The Unkillables (12 page)

“How long will that be?”

“Many, many nights,” she bluffed. “But when it happens, I shall see it.”

“Don’t make her angry!” shouted someone. There were screams of outrage at this cravenness, then shouts of support for its good common sense.

“Spear’s always been a bastard anyway!” shouted someone else.

“Quiet!” shouted Stick. “I say, quiet!” Some obeyed, but it was only a mild lessening of the hubbub. Stick glared at Gash-Eye—in the red light, it almost looked like his eyes were wet. He said, “I don’t know whether it is right or wrong to kill Spear for your pleasure. I do not wish for the People to all die out, forever. But I feel it would be wrong, and that the shame of it would follow us always.”

He paused and watched Gash-Eye, as if hoping his words might provoke some mercy. She met his gaze steadily. The idea of the People living under the cloud of an eternal shame provoked in her nothing but a satisfaction as dark, red, and smoldering as the fire she’d thrown Tooth into.

Stick dropped his eyes. His body seemed to shrink. He said, “It cannot be my voice that says these words. If it must be, it must be the whole People.”

Someone rushed from the circle at Gash-Eye. At first she tensed, readying herself to fight. Then she saw how small the on-comer was; it was Quarry. The child took her hand. Tears in her voice, she said, “Don’t make us do that, Gash-Eye.”

Gash-Eye stared down at Quarry, her face frozen and unreadable. She didn’t even notice that Quarry called her, not the name she’d insisted on, but the one by which she’d always been known among them.

“I know he deserves it,” said Quarry. “But please don’t make us do it. Please.”

Gash-Eye kept looking at the girl. For some reason she thought of the Jaw. She imagined that he had survived. She thought of how, if he had been trapped in here with them, she could have used the opportunity presented by her bluff to try to create a web of obligations that might keep him safe forever. Maybe she could have made the People grateful to her, maybe she could have used her new power to transform herself from a tool into a different sort of asset, a person of value. Then she would have been able to interact with her son, without either of them worrying that such interaction would contaminate him, would alienate him from the rest of the People even more violently than the mere fact of their kinship already did.

For some reason she had the urge to touch Quarry’s face. She didn’t do it, of course.

“Let Spear live,” she said. “Let him live, I don’t care what happens to him.” She turned and shouldered her way through the crowd. They hesitated to let her by, as if uncertain what they ought to do with her—thank her, punish her, supplicate her—but finally they made room. She left them behind and trudged back to the dark reaches of the chamber, among the rats and moles and insects, where there wasn’t any light for them to see her.

Behind her there was only a little noise for a while. Most of it came from the People trying to help the injured Tooth as best they could, without any herbs or potions. There was some hushed arguing over how much of their small store of wood should be used in rebuilding the fire—in the end they settled for a smaller blaze. Gash-Eye had talked like they would be down here a long time, so they would need to conserve their supplies. But she had also been careful to convey an impression that they would eventually be able to leave. If the People became hopeless, they might decide to go out and die fighting those unkillable things, or commit suicide, or some other desperate act. In any case, Gash-Eye would no longer be able to control them.

She huddled in the shadows by the wall. Blind animals scurried and crept over her and she ignored them. The People had split into clumps, she saw. Spear and his faction sat together, talking quietly and intently. Even if it turned out they were working out a plot to kill her, she didn’t give a damn.

Quarry wandered the chamber floor. The dark scared her, but she went as far as she could without passing completely out of the light visible to her. “Gash-Eye?” she would whisper, her small sibilant voice carrying far into the echoey chamber. “Petal-Drift?” she would whisper then, remembering the strange new name.

Gash-Eye never responded or let the child know where she hid. But she never took her eyes off her, either.

***

S
he awoke to a flaming stick being shoved near her face. Though she’d thought she’d reached a state where living or dying were matters of indifference to her, her body tried to recoil in panic from the flames. But she couldn’t recoil—there were four strong hunters holding her tight, one for each limb.

The flame was drawn back somewhat, but stayed blindingly close to her face. She heard Spear’s voice: “Now what say I burn out this Big-Brow slave’s rebellious eyes?”

Cries of protest. “We need her!” pleaded someone. “We need her to find food. We need her to look into the hidden places, so we can know when it’s safe to leave....”

“Shut up!” said Spear. “I’m sick of hearing you gullible fools prattle about the hidden places! Can’t you see that’s a game she’s playing to humiliate you?”

“But we know she sees the hidden things!” That was Tooth! “That’s why we keep the Gash-Eye in the first place!”

“Shut up! And stay back, all you cowards, or I’ll stick your Big-Brow master right here.”

Gash-Eye felt a cold stone blade at her throat. She stopped struggling. Now that someone was actively planning to kill her, she found her will to live returning. But the only way to escape was to wait and see if an opportunity would present itself. Where was Quarry?

There were more cries and pleas from the People.

“If you cowards don’t be quiet I’m not going to kill the Big-Brow, I’m going to start killing you!” That quieted some of them.

“What is your plan, Spear?” That was Stick.

“My plan? It’s a simple one. I’m going to lead us all out of these caves.” Moans of protest, rallying shouts of encouragement. “Those of my faction are going to stamp out the fire as we go, so if any of you cowards choose to stay and snivel here, you can do it in the dark. Meanwhile, we’re going to go outside. I tell you, those unkillables will have moved on. Even if they haven’t, we’ll be ready for them this time. They move slow, before they’ve started eating anyway, we’ll see them and slip back into the cave again.” Gash-Eye was blinded as the brand was again shoved close to her face. “What do you think of that, Big-Brow? Still promising the unkillables won’t have passed back into the forest from whence they came?”

Gash-Eye could think of nothing better than to stick with her original gambit. “Death awaits outside.”

“Bah! The dark is the natural place for you. Rats and bugs are your rightful diet. But we are men, and women!... What say you, Stick?”

Stick’s voice was hard and merciless: “If, once outside, we find that Gash-Eye has deceived us, in that case I say she dies.”

“No!” That was Quarry. From the way her cry was cut off, Gash-Eye knew someone had clapped a hand over her mouth. She surprised herself by almost shouting at them to leave the girl alone, but held back. Best not to let them know that was a knife they could twist in her flank.

Gash-Eye felt herself being lifted. She kept her eyes closed, although the brand was so close that the flames shone almost as brightly through her lids.

She was carried through the cave. Even without seeing anything, she could tell when they were out of the big chamber and back in the tunnel; the air pressure changed, the clamorous shouting echoed differently. Those carrying her grunted with the extra effort of following the slope upward.

She had little doubt that once they got outside, the unkillables would have moved on. They had seemed such insatiable creatures, and there was bound to be more prey in the forest. For Quarry’s sake, she was even glad this interlude in the cave was coming to an end. Well, it was all right that they were going to kill her. She’d been meant to die days ago. All that remained in these last minutes was to decide whether it was likely to go easier with Quarry if she went down fighting, or quietly. Quietly, probably.

The fire was moved away from her face. “Open your eyes, slave,” Spear growled, close to her ears. “We’re almost at the mouth of the cave. I want you to point out this death you’ve been scaring us with, before going to meet your own.”

Gash-Eye obeyed. But it was still by sound alone that she knew they were nearing the mouth of the cave. Though her eyes were open, she could still make out little more than blotchy red and blue afterimages of the flames that had been so close. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. It suddenly seemed to her that, since she was about to see for the very last time, it would be nice to see clearly.

There was a crackling boom.

The People all came to a halt. Gash-Eye was jolted by the way the four men carrying her stopped at slightly different moments. A few moans went up from the women and children and some of the men.

“Shut up!” said Spear. “It’s just thunder!”

“Spear....” That was Stick. Even he was scared.

“It’s just thunder, damn it! Are you afraid of thunder now?! Do you think the warring thunder spirits are more likely to take notice of earth creatures today than they were yesterday? Have you ever heard of earthly creatures whose fighting made a sound like thunder, unkillable or not? So how can that sound be made by earthly creatures? Now move!”

They started forward again. From protests and shouts behind her Gash-Eye came to realize that the People were being marched forward mostly against their will, by Spear’s friends.

Her vision was coming back, but she still couldn’t see what they were screaming about the next moment. Partly because her head was still facing the ceiling.

“It’s just lightning!” shouted Spear. “It’s just lightning! The mouth is just around the bend!”

“But it makes a sound different from any thunder I ever heard!”

“It’s lightning, I tell you!”

“If it’s lightning then why is it red?!”

“That’s from our damned eyes drying out in the Big-Brow’s poisoned cave! I tell you, that’s lightning! Lightning! Lightning! Lightning!”

Now they were turning her so that her body was upright—two men apiece held her by the arms now, and her feet dragged along the floor. She picked them up and began walking along to keep the tops from being scraped. She didn’t struggle. Sure enough, up ahead she could see the bend, the last corner before the mouth of the cave. It must be night. The People wouldn’t have been able to see the bend if not for the brands, and if not for the flashes of light from outside the mouth, which reflected off the rock wall. Spear was right, their eyes were no doubt still confused by the long sojourn in darkness, but she did think the so-called lightning looked red.

They rounded the corner. The dark cave mouth opened into the nighttime before them. Stars glittered in the sky—no clouds. Spear leaned in close to Gash-Eye and growled, “You’re about to die.”

Pitching her voice for his ears only, she said, “I don’t care.”

As they drew right up to the mouth of the cave there seemed nothing outside but a peaceful, tranquil night. Gasps of cautious joy could be heard. They approached the crystalline stars and the small but peaceful patch of grass visible in the moonlight, and Gash-Eye knew they were about to kill her.

Then a lightning bolt sizzled down with a crash the instant before they exited the cave. At least, Gash-Eye supposed it was lightning; it was impossibly straight, and definitely red. The boom it made was not quite like thunder.

Those in the very front halted again. But Spear’s allies in the back must have been determined to push forward no matter what, and to keep from being trampled those in the front had to start moving again. As those who’d first left the cave started screaming, the ones in the back continued spilling out, shoving them.

The small patch of outside they’d been able to see from within the cave had looked calm. But chaos raged everywhere around that patch. Unkillables streamed or shuffled up the hill, according to their strength; the black ones were illuminated by the glowing green ones. Gash-Eye’s captors released her, in their shock. She turned around to look back up the hill to see what the unkillables were heading toward. There was a huge mound of something organic-looking that shouldn’t be there, glistening in the starlight. The mound was momentarily lit by another red bolt, and Gash-Eye felt like she might vomit—though she couldn’t be certain, though it was impossible, she felt suddenly sure that what she was looking at was a massive heap of animal brains.

What sort of monster would kill more animals than anyone could ever eat and then leave only the brains, heaped on a hillside?

Someone screamed and she whipped her head around to see that a black unkillable had grabbed Stick by the arm with his teeth, and was using his hands to pull the old hunter and his brain closer. Before any of the People could raise a spear to help, one of the stronger, green unkillables leaped forward and ripped Stick’s head off, stealing the prize from its hungry brethren. The green unkillable raised Stick’s head to its mouth and chomped down hard, biting through Stick’s skull like it was the skin of a fruit. As it munched out chunks of the hunter’s brain and gulped them whole, Gash-Eye and the People could see it glow brighter and stronger. Then with a deafening crackle another red bolt destroyed the green unkillable, exploding its head, then a second bolt hit the head of the black unkillable still tearing in futile, frustrated rage at Stick’s headless body.

Gash-Eye looked up, to see where the red bolts were coming from. There was something like a huge, impossibly regular stone floating overhead.

The smell of smoke and burning rotten flesh. Underneath the screams the deafening crackles of the big red bolts. Gash-Eye looked back uphill at the mound of what might be brains. Some of the unkillables had reached it and were leaning their whole bodies into it, arms outstretched as if hugging it. They glowed an impossibly bright green; Gash-Eye could not see their mouths, but she imagined them munching, munching, munching their ways into the mound.

She realized that some of the People had been bitten by the unkillables and were flopping on the ground, the black webs spreading across their bodies. Most of the unkillables who had bitten them had not bothered to break their skulls. They must have been drawn too irresistibly by that mountain of brains above.