Book 3 - Retrievers

XXXII - Tree Spirits

Russia begins scanning the surroundings and gleaming white begins to catch his attention. He starts looking closer and sees bones scattered in the underbrush. He takes a step back and spots a human skull grinning at him from one of the low branches of the trees.

'Shit.'

"Do you see the bones?" Dixie asks, raising his gun.

"Yes."

"What do you wanna do?"

"We fight it and keep the states and Meri safe," Russia says, glancing at Dixie, "they should pack as much as they can while we're here, but be ready to speed out."

Dixie nods with a determined look and a small smile.

"I like the way you think," Dixie muses.

"What's goin' on?" Alabama interjects.

"Go into your truck and tell your brother and Amy to go get as much supplies as they can. But all y'all need to be ready to peel outa here when shit goes down."

Alabama stares for a moment with wide eyes before nodding and running back to his truck. Russia is vaguely aware of Alabama rambling the plans to America and Mississippi, who both stick together and try to fill both truck beds as much as they can, with not only food but tools and other supplies they could find.

Then Russia spots a pair of eyes watching them from the underbrush. Russia glares for a second back up. Dixie backs up a little too, and they find themselves shoulder to shoulder against the outwall of the store.

Dixie mumbles something and starts frantically digging through his pockets.

"What's wrong?" Russia asks.

"I don't got enough ammo. I may only have a few good shots left."

'That's not good.'

A low rustling begins to surround them. Several eyes stare back at them for brief moments before disappearing again. The creatures seem to fade back into the trees.

"You will pay," the wind whispers.

"You humans ruin everything."

Russia meet's Dixie's eyes and crouches into a defensive stance. Then a face made of oak roars from the woods and springs forward. It comes up to Russia's chest and its skin has the texture of tree bark. Its eyes glint an orange-yellow, and its face seems stuck in a scowl. Russia clenches his fists. Gunfire rings out, but this doesn't do much other than cause a trail of sap.

Dixie curses and Russia jumps forward, shoving the thing back. The thing screeches, and more yellowed eyes glint in the leaves. Many more emerge, all looking livid. They are bipedal from what Russia can tell, and some of them tower over the ground. Many of the tallest snarl with wooden, spiked teeth, and their fingers look sharpened.

Russia stares up at the taller ones of the group and feels his heart sink.

'Do they have pencil sharpeners?'

Russia shakes the thought off.

"Those things are sharp," Dixie comments, tossing his gun into the bed of the black truck and readying his fist.

"Okay Ruski, now would be the time to share any crazy tricks you got."

"How far could you throw me?"

"Wha.. into space, dipshit. How is that helpful?"

"If I could get on top of the biggest one, I could pull it over."

"It would be like a tree falling and it might just take some of 'em out," Dixie interjects, his eyes flashing with recognition.

Russia nods.

The things then charge in groups of five or six. Russia runs forward and knocks them back with momentum and sheer force. Dixie plants his feet, his back to the trucks. He ducks to avoid having his eyes removed and swings, sending the moving wooden dolls flying back.

Russia runs into the fray and spins, grabbing an arm. He yanks it around and the thing connected to it shrieks in dismay. He rips off a set of claws from one of the creatures and begins slashing at the group until it gets lodged somewhere he doesn't see. He's quick to release it and leap back out of range.

Several creatures charge and he spins and sidesteps. He sticks his leg out and trips them. The taller one shrieks and starts lumbering toward them. Russia makes eye contact with Dixie. Dixie gives a subtle nod and nonchalantly snaps a creature in two.

Russia sprints directly at Dixie, and last second, Dixie lowers his arms and laces his fingers together. Russia takes the foothold, and he's launched into the air. He flails for a moment, trying to find his balance after such a forceful push.

He looks down and sees the creatures springing to inhuman heights, trying to catch him. Russia steels his expression and dives toward the largest, who looks like some kind of pine tree. It snarls.

Russia wraps his arms around its neck and under its jaw, slamming its mouth shut. He watches closely as the ground approaches. Others scramble under the being, trying to help it stay upright in vain. The thing's head hits the clay and dirt with a deafening crack, and Russia rolls off.

Russia rolls into a crouching position and hops to his feet, head-butting the closest thing scratching at him. The largest pine being dissolves, and Russia sees one of the tallest trees begin to turn brown at an alarming rate.

'They are connected to the trees,' he confirms mentally.

Then, he hears a scream from inside the store and sees flashes of blue in the windows. His chest clenches but he doesn't have time to turn around lest he wants to be shanked from behind. He starts grabbing the closest ones and shoving them as far into the ground as he could manage.

He knows it won't be a permanent solution, but it does seem to trap them. After dispatching a dozen of the creatures this way, he turns around just in time to see America shoving Mississippi out the front door of the store. America is dawning the chest plates and swings his scythe at something just out of Russia's view.

"I think it's time to go!" America screams, limping back.

Russia nods and sees Dixie begin running toward the black truck they had left running. America forces Mississippi into the front passenger seat of Alabama's truck. America scrambles into the back row and waves Russia and Dixie on frantically. Russia jumps into the driver's seat, and as soon as Dixie is inside, he slams on the gas. The wind shuts the door and they skid for a moment before shooting forward.

Dixie rolls down the window, a large wrench in hand, and pries off the unwanted passengers on the back of the truck.

They speed out, sending gravel flying from the unfinished roads.

Suddenly, the static feeling is gone, and Russia almost slumps over with relief.

"Ruski?"

"We're out of that magic cloud," Russia explains.

Dixie laughs breathlessly.

"Let's go home and take inventory," Dixie says, waving forward, "I think Amy will be able to find his way back, but I can lead you if we lose 'em."

Russia tries to relax, but his mind is still spinning.

'Those things could talk.'

'What were they? And what were they so angry about? Is it something to do with the magic?'

Russia shakes his head, deciding he would ask Georgia and Louisiana about it when they're back at base.