Abject in the Dust

Chapter 7 - The Price of Friendship

"She betrayed us." Rize muttered repeatedly - almost hypnotically.

"You sound surprised." Lykke replied as she sat slumped next to her friend in the earthy compound.

"She was never true. Not one part of her. Not from the start."

Lykke snorted in response to Rize's assessment.

"I thought we had reached an understanding." Rize continued to shake his head in disbelief.

"She is scum." Lykke spat. "Even now she'll be telling everything she knows. Any hope we might have had of striking some sort of agreement with these people has gone. She is scum. She is worse than scum."

"You're right." Rize said despondently. "I am sorry that I did not take more heed of your concerns, Lykke." Rize embraced his friend as tears formed in his eyes. "I should have listened."

"You have nothing to apologise for." Lykke hugged Rize tight. "She fooled us both. She is nothing more than scum. I wish she was dead."

"Well." Sam stepped from the darkness. "It's nice to be wanted." She whispered.

Something in Lykke snapped, as she launched herself at the shabby figure; knocking Rize to the ground in the process. There was no regard for the weapons she knew Sam would have secreted, or for the obvious skill she held in countering such attacks. Lykke's body was a missile and it was aimed at Sam's heart. A mass of entangled limbs flailed in the dark. Punches and kicks landed heavily. Muffled screams of anguish competed with laboured breathing as exhaustion started to replace exuberance.

Finally, Sam's body sat atop Lykke's, her knees pinning Lykke's arms and a knife to her throat; a decisive end to the melee. But it was not an end for Lykke. It was an opportunity to regain her breath; an opportunity to regain her strength. The dagger to her throat was nothing more than a convenient temporary respite. She continued to struggle, oblivious to Sam's hushed threats. Squirmed and writhed until an arm was free. This time there was no wild flailing in the hope that she might land a punch. This time her attack was poised and precise - and excruciating for Sam as a closed fist connected hard with the ear which still bore evidence of a gunshot wound.

The dagger did not spend much time on the ground, before the warm handle was sitting comfortably in Lykke's hand. There was no threat issued. No blade held close to a body part to suggest what might happen for failure to comply. The blade was thrust deep into Sam's stomach; a truly decisive end to the brief encounter, which saw Sam shuffle backwards on the ground as she clasped an unbelieving hand around the knife and wound alike.

"You fucking idiot!" Sam hissed as she continued to shuffle away on her backside; her feet kicking against the dirt, partly to aid her progress and partly to deter any follow-up attack. "I came to get you out."

"I hope you bleed to death." Lykke snarled in reply. "Every word that comes out of your disgusting mouth is a lie. You are in league with these ... these people. You betrayed those in New Destiny. You betrayed Rize and I. There is nothing you have to say that I want to hear."

"I did what I needed to do to survive." Sam shouted in anger, before immediately hushing her voice.

"And you think that justifies what you have done? You sacrificed hundreds of people."

"They were already dead."

"What does that mean?" Lykke hissed her question as she stalked her prey.

"The moment this tribe found New Destiny, the inhabitants of that town were dead."

"So, you thought you would just profit in the meantime. Is that what you're telling us?"

"Why not?" Sam asked unapologetically as she wadded a dirty scarf around the knife sticking in her abdomen. "They screwed me over. I screwed them over. It's the circle of life."