Indentured (Book 2 of the Dana Halliday series)

AWESOME AND TERRIFYING. NARY A WOBBLE. SNUFF FILM.

The cameras showed more of the arena and its contents now: large rocks, dead trees, randomly placed walks and platforms, discarded machinery, and what looked like parts of actual buildings. At one end was the huge concrete tank of clear water; now I could see the logs and metal debris at the bottom.

Flynt moved like a bouncing shadow. He bounded over rocks, rolled over and under dead vehicles, even shimmied up trees and poles with his one hand. Cua lumbered after him, but she couldn't come within grabbing distance, and she couldn't corner him. He was just too quick and agile, even panting and sweating in the heat.

Around and around the arena they went while the crowd screamed. This went on for what seemed like hours, though it was probably just fifteen minutes or so. Then, Flynt climbed to the top of yet another dead tree, this one twenty feet tall and firmly rooted, and sat for a few moments, out of Cua's reach. There was no way the Pemlo'hban could climb after him without the thin branches spilling her bulk into the sand.

Flynt waited, catching his breath and grimly hanging on as she shook the tree like a bear. The tree refused to be uprooted or snapped in half, just swayed with a startling flexibility. The crowd jeered again, this time at Cua; enraged, she picked up a rock that looked as big as a European car, and hurled it at the Fenn. Flynt ducked easily and jumped to the ground, then trotted back into the clearing under the platforms.

Cua brandished a huge metal club, maybe an old pipe, in one hand and pursued him, roaring in thwarted fury, and he turned to face her. With no obstacles to impede her, she was surprisingly quick for such a huge being.

I expected him to jump back into the tangle of debris, but he didn't, just kept darting and weaving around her. He had to dodge several blows from her club that were close enough to stir the hair on his head. I had seen him run before, but not like this: low to the ground, turning and accelerating, abruptly reversing like a jackrabbit, never losing his balance, never once even putting a hand to the ground to steady himself. It was awesome and terrifying, like watching a wolf maneuver around a bison.

The crowd began to grow restive, shouting for blood. Flynt obliged, ducking a swipe from the club, then sprang into the air and swiped her across the face with all six of his claws. Dark blood welled from her forehead, and she bellowed in rage.

Kez hadn't seen my friend reflexively spring onto the deck railing at my house, with nary a wobble. He hadn't seen Flynt launch himself from the floor and pin Adrian to the wall on the Port of Sard, nor had he seen him racing down a hospital corridor pushing a levitating stretcher. He probably didn't know that the Fenn had killed the creature that mangled his arm. Otherwise, he might have thought twice and made Adrian battle the Pemlo'hban.

Cua was slowing, nostrils flared as she gasped for breath. I became aware of the sounds Flynt was making, a sneering, taunting chorus of noise as he started dogging her heels, now chasing her. Finally, he turned, and she pursued him back into the tangle of junk.

Announcer Kez had fallen silent after Flynt had clawed Cua's face. Present Kez stopped to stand next to Wys, behind us, and Mennu was breathing in short, sharp exhalations. I looked at Flynt. He wasn't watching the action, and I didn't think Adrian was either. The crowd noise crescendoed through Kez's outstanding sound system.

Flynt skipped up one of the available ladders to the wood beams that crossed high above the water tank. Cua followed more carefully. Flynt clutched at the beam with his one hand, panting and drenched in sweat, and hissed at Cua. The camera got an excellent shot of this, highlighting the Fenn's twelve sharp fangs. The Pemlo'hban approached carefully along the neighboring beam; it bent a little with her weight. She armed blood from her face again and paused, seeming to gauge the distance.