Death Seeker - Horizon: Zero Dawn

Chapter 7

It was a cool and crisp morning in The Jewel. The sweet melody of birdsong emanated from the mass of leafy green above, tugged him gently from his incessant nightmare. He woke with a shiver, as sweat cooled against his skin from the frost on the grass. He sat up, pressing his back against the knuckled trunk of the great cedar which sheltered him, standing prominent in The Sunscreen Wood. On reflection, he often wondered if he should have chosen a spot at the top of the cliff, instead of at the shaded bottom. But he loved its secluded nature, hidden by mossy trees, craggy walls and a great mesa above, overlooking the Spearshafts.

The trickling sound of the nearby river brought attention to his bursting bladder. He rolled out of his goose and turkey-feathered blanket, and whilst wiping his damp clothing down he walked the few steps to the rock face. He yawned as he urinated, giggling as a squeak released from his behind.

"Better out than in."

The boy had survived alone in the forest for a number of years, regularly traversing the thick foliage from the Spurflints in the east, all the way to the waters of Daybrink in the west. But no matter how far he travelled, Ahvis always found himself returning to the woods of Sunscreen.

Better pick up some supplies. Ahvis thought, inspecting his empty knapsack. He'd sucked every morsel from the rat carcass that lay discarded on the floor, and his stomach began grumbling to be fed. He looked to the heavens. Looks like rain. He wondered. Could help.

The boy sauntered across to the stream and dropped to his knees, scooping up a mouthful of fresh, flowing water. He drank it fully, filling his hand bowl once again before splashing his face. He pulled a small tuft of grass and shoved it into one side of his mouth, squeezing and rubbing it against his dirty teeth and gums before moving the lump to the other side. He didn't want to waste time fishing, so decided on sneaking into Blackwing Snag once again. He wasn't worried about those lazy bandits, as they usually slept till midday, and if his prediction was right, the rain would mask his footsteps. He spat a huge green clump of grassy mucus onto a rock, and dug his hands into the mud of the river bed, preparing his disguise.

Ahvis didn't mind getting wet from crossing the river, as a few threats of rain had already landed on his head and body; further proof of the great downpour he was expecting. Shame the mud'll wash off. He glanced at the drying artwork he'd pasted on his arms and skin as he walked. Together with his stained and torn shirt and leggings, he was camouflaged well in his dark forest surroundings.

As he neared the line of trees marking the edge of the forest, he crept behind a cluster of palm trees, then shuffled forward through the ferns when he felt safe. He could see the camp through the swaying grass and stubble, detecting no movement. He knew where the fools kept their crates of stolen fruits, grains, fish, nuts and dead animals. If he was lucky there would be some tasty coconuts and ripe bananas. He'd watched them on a number of occasions, joyfully returning with supplies acquired from an ambushed merchant wagon, or jewellery snatched from a nobleman's wife.

Rain. The drops came heavier and faster. He carefully lowered himself off a ledge, and gently dropped into the stream beneath which ran through and around Blackwing Snag. The water rippled and sloshed, his slow movements disguised with the exploding droplets landing on the surface. He made it to the first wooden footbridge, floating gently underneath it, hidden by the raised land around. He peeked at the ancient oak, standing proud in the heart of the camp on the opposite rivers edge. This was where the bandits slept, under a canopy. It was also where the crates were kept, down in a hidden shelter cut into the ground like a grave. Ahvis could sneak in, fill his knapsack, and be gone before a sleeping bandit finished a snortle. He'd done it before, many times.

Here goes nothing. He glided through the flowing waters like a salmon, barely a movement in his body. A tiny buck, continuing his momentum, saw him gracefully to the far river bank. He hesitated, then scampered over a rock and behind a broken fence that was held up by the palms on either side. Still no movement, and he could hear the deep bass of a snoring bandit cloaked by the patter of rain drops. He slithered to the raised oak, pressing his body against the rock adjacent for cover, and followed the lip quietly around that would lead to the grave. Coconuts! Ahvis almost squeaked with delight, as he reached out to grab one. He could see the two male bandits flat out on the other side of the tree, an arm flung over the other on the ground like a happy couple.

The whistle of an arrow pierced the atmosphere, and the coconut suddenly exploded in his hand. By the sun! He dropped low immediately, and hid his body against the rocky ledge once again, frantically scanning for the best escape route. The arrow was sunk in the ground a few foot ahead of him, meaning the archer could see his escape route on land. The only option was to retreat the way he'd come, but he would have to get to the rivers edge pronto. One wrong move, and he knew he'd be wearing an arrow through his stomach. Not exactly the breakfast he'd envisaged.

He carefully dropped a decoy rock to his right, and immediately dashed to his left, he heard another whistle, and another as he dived over the fence onto the rocks with a crunch, and splashed into the river. There was no time for elegance, as he trudged through the shallows as fast as his adrenaline pumped legs would carry him. He had no idea if he'd been hit, but the beating chest almost gave him a rush as he made it back under the bridge. He raised a gesturing hand signal. Suck on this-

Whatever it was, it came from nowhere, and it smashed him clean in the face. Ahvis fell back with a splash. He recalled wiping his nose and seeing bright blood spreading over his hand, and the sight of a gigantic man appearing, as darkness overcame him.

-

Mother...no... "Father don't! Stop!"

Ahvis woke with a terrified start, to the deafening cackle of an unexpected audience. The pain in his eyes hit like a tonne of rock, causing tears to trickle down his face. He closed his eyes, felt his wrists and ankles bound, and resigned himself to his fate. He did well, he thought, surviving alone for so many years from the age of eleven. He wondered how many others could pull that off.

"Alright, little rat. What do they call you?" The man's voice was calm, commanding but calm. The others fell silent at his words.

"Who's they?" Ahvis asked, pleading ignorance. A huge boot landed forcefully into the pit of his stomach, causing severe pain and an unwanted sickly feeling. His body heaved, vomiting the morning river water onto himself.

The giant squatted down low, and spoke quietly into Ahvis' sticky ear. "I will kill you, boy. I don't care that you're fresh off your mother's teat." He stood slowly. "Or was it your father suckling on them in your dream?" He shrugged, the others guffawed.

Ahvis glared through watery eyes at the man, and tried unsuccessfully to stand. "You need to tie up a child?" He held his bounds higher, and chortled. "The size of you? Must be scared that 'I'll kill you'."

The sharp intake of air from one bandit, and the sound of shock from another caused the giant to act once again. Swinging a clobbering fist into the boy's already broken face. The impact momentarily lifted him from the ground, stretching his wrapped, leather leash to its limit before bringing him back down with a thud. Ahvis rolled away onto his side, tears flooded from his eyes as the pain was nothing he'd ever felt, but strangely he began laughing. A loud, demented laugh that he couldn't control.

"This tramp is cursed." Offered Mika, as she stood with intent, pulling a curved blade from its sheath. She stepped forward and grasped Ahvis by his bloody cheeks, pushing his head back to expose his throat. The blade flashed as it pressed against his dirty flesh.

"A moment, Mika."

She released the blade immediately, bowing gracefully as she retreated. "Forgive me, Grahlan."

The giant of a man sauntered over to the hysterical boy once more, looking him in the eye, studying him intently. "I'm not so sure you care if you're dead or not, boy." He scratched at his rugged, shaggy beard, tilting his bald head in wonder. "Perhaps we can find a use for you after all."