Primal Gambit

Chapter 26: Taking Shuke

Black waders protected her gentle flesh from the infection and parasites that festered within the sewage muck. As if he had never left Siberia, Doerrman was on point. His shoulder-mounted light burned away the darkness as they slowly progressed through the labyrinth of tunnels. A green bioluminescence illuminated from alien growth that sprouted within the murky liquid. The two stepped cautiously past, dipping their rusted, makeshift walking sticks down into the sludge to read the change in depth. Coming upon an old, weak-hinged grate, Doerrman leaned his pole against the wall and spun the duffel bag around until it rested on his waist. Digging through the equipment, the soldier retrieved a pair of bolt cutters. Taking them into his hands and approaching the feeble grate, he turned and reassured Valerie:

"Should only take a minute." He whispered in exhales.

She regretted it the very moment she asked for his help. The words escaped her mouth before she allowed time for more thought and she hated herself for it. As Doerrman worked diligently on the grate, working each nut and bolt loose, Valerie anxiously wondered about the consequences of her actions. The mission was poorly planned – something Doerrman rarely had to deal with while operating in Wobbegong. Were they to get caught transporting Shuke, the two and any conspirators uncovered by the documents at Valerie's apartment would surely face death. It was something she could not have on her conscience, which was already weighed heavily down by the choices she made to arrive in that very tunnel with her man.

The nuts kerplunked into the waste as Doerrman loosened the grate, replacing the bolt cutters and working on the hinges with his gloved hands. Valerie leaned against the curved tunnel wall as Doerrman pulled with all his might, his forearms almost doubling in size. After struggling, the grate finally uprooted, cement pulling from the structure of the tunnel, bits crumbling into the black mud-water. Picking up his stick, he aided Valerie through the grate and they both continued.

The girl's light was fixed upon the blue-white schematics she held in her hands, attempting to obtain a sense of navigation. The tablet she had loaded them onto prior to beginning their journey flickered and dimmed from poor reception. When they arrived at the end of a tunnel, Doerrman took two filters from the pack and handed one to Valerie. Thick viscous bubbles rose to the surface of the liquid and popped, and for a moment the girl toyed with the idea of something following them under the sewage.

After what felt like hours of trudging through the mud and the muck, the two finally came upon a rusted ladder that led upwards to a metal grate. Doerrman attempted the ascent first, to ensure the safety of his girl should the ferals be unaccustomed to provocation with outer sentients. Valerie climbed close behind, her gloves and feet slipping on the slimy, dank rungs. Strange moss grew on the steps, squishing like sponges when the two grasped them.

When they finally came upon the grate, Doerrman turned and repositioned himself – leaning backwards against the ladder as he rustled through the duffel bag. Small steel rods held the grate in place and Doerrman was going to cut through them. Valerie rustled on the ladder, positioning herself so she could lean while her man did the heavy lifting. Alone with her thoughts as the brute worked away at the opening, she had come to regret the choices she made. An impending sense of the loss of life ate away at her, so much so she felt like things were about to go wrong – the mission lost. Her racing mind was cut off when the sparks above her stopped and four small poles fell down the vertical drop. Replacing the torch, Doerrman looked down and gave Valerie a gloved, reassuring thumbs up. An invisible and meaningless smile crept across her lips for but a moment before Doerrman lifted the grate and shifted it to the side. After shimmying himself up, he dropped his hand into the tunnel to help Valerie out.

Met by the dense spotlights that shone beams of fog across the exhibit, blinding them, the two covered their eyes in a hurried attempt to locate their quarry. The clear night sky, darkened in an eerie blue-green shade, acted as a backdrop above. Lush green overgrowth sprawled across the paddock, drenching the two city-bloods into an alien world they could only recall from their farthest memories. Their entrance drew the attention of sunken eyes. Valerie could feel the detached stares, even as she failed to spot any of the creatures. The wind piqued, sucking the air from the girl's anxious breaths.

A shallow rustle accompanied by a grunting wheeze just behind was more than enough to startle the two. Doerrman drew his sidearm and held it in both hands, his eyes lasing the area for hostile movement.

"What are you doing?!" Valerie quietly barked to her counterpart. She knew he would not let the feral beasts get too close. He looked at her and grimaced beneath the mask – an expression she did not need to see to understand, to feel.

Just then a hoarse wheeze groaned from the tallest tree. Doerrman pointed his weapon as the jungle rustled violently before them. Fleeting footfall around them meant that the pack leader was close. Just then an emaciated feral leapt from the branch, adorning silver hair that sprouted along each side of the spinal column; his eyes dark as coal and his fingers ending in claws. With one hand the warrior pushed Valerie behind him just as the beast landed before him, thrashing the jungle nearby in a horrific display of dominance. When it pulled its lips apart, the sinew stretching, Doerrman could make out the yellow black of sharpened fangs.

The sinew was old, and when the beast released a roar so loud that it sent the other ferals into hiding the tendons began to snap one by one. Viscous crimson poured from the wounds and the feral caught a taste for blood. When the bony creature leaned back on its haunches, preparing to pounce, another burst through the nearby brush revealed a second withered man – standing between the two distanced men. The alpha bellowed at the feral that had entered the fray.

Valerie identified the new feral as their quarry. The two sentients watched as the alpha launched into the lesser beast, sinking teeth and claw into flesh and bone.

"Shuke!" The girl screamed as she hit Doerrman on the arm. The warrior took aim at the melee unfolding before him. Before moments could pass he unloaded his pistol – drilling rounds into the skull and chest of the alpha. Smoke curled from the barrel as Doerrman holstered his weapon and ran at Shuke, kicking the feral from him and lifting him up. Just as it had been in Siberia for so long, the warrior began issuing commands that defined the living from the dead:

"Tear off your sleeve – tie it around his neck. Apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding." They moved for the grate, Valerie performing first aid as best she to keep their captive alive. Tears poured from her eyes as they worked together to save him. Ample amounts of blood soaked into the lines on her hands and she struggled to stay tethered to the situation. Valerie drifted for a moment on how far removed these animals had become. She watched Doerrman's face as it winced in physical expenditure – his arms steeped in gore. He struggled to carry the man, the duffle bag, and a dispelled conscience. Shuke haplessly looked up at his savior and then into Valerie's eyes. Her heart sank. She had put her man – the warrior that meant the world to her, right back into the war. Her choices had voided the psyche wipes and the drugs and the therapy. She introduced him to a war she chose to fight; a war being waged just under his nose. Valerie was killing Doerrman slowly.

She was brought back to reality when Doerrman barked for her to help him find his footing down the rabbit hole.