Ebb Tide: Book 1 of the South Wind Saga

Chapter 5

The Pale King roars as soon as my feet leave the ground. I can't help looking, I twist my head, my arms screaming in sympathy as I force my aching battered muscles to pull me up. I struggle, twisting the rope around my legs, trying to get purchase there. I feel a tightness around my calf as the line wraps. I lock it in with other ankle. Feel the purchase. That's how you can climb these ropes. Your arms don't lift you. You use your legs.

But I can't help stopping to look at the Pale King as he screams. The square of light blocking the door barely there. He pounds one of his creatures on its back and it leaps, bursting into the light, bursting into smoke, bursting into flame but still coming. It races towards me, its skin trailing sheets of fire, a mad flare screaming, getting close before it goes down, crashes to the ground as violently as a fuel laden jet. Behind it, another leaps, pushes its way through the door, smoke, it singes and flickers with flaring light but it's through and coming for me.

The hole in the ceiling is gone. Just like that, it disappears. Blong has done it, he has levered the metal into place, sealed the shaft, sealing my doom. Goddamnit, why didn't I listen to Katie, why didn't I shoot that little bastard in the head when I had the chance?

I curse and scream as I haul myself up the rope, my shoulders on fire. My burned hand is in absolute agony as I try and get traction on the rope. My hand weeps clear fluid, slipping on the rope, the rope cutting into my burn. I have never felt pain this bad and I scream but the monsters are coming now, they're through the door and crossing the floor and I haul myself up.

The pain is good. The pain is weakness leaving my body. Every screaming, agonizing moment of it. I kick out, the rope slipping over my legs, burning them as I keep it tight around my calves. It would easier if I ditched the rifle, ditched my kit but no, there is never a question of that, I will keep my rifle, I will take my gear with me. I will survive and I will need them tomorrow. To lose them now would be to admit that there would be no tomorrow.

I have the rope around my legs and I try to keep it tight. There is five or six metres of it coiled on the ground but I have no chance of pulling it up. But what am I worried about? That they would try to scamper up the rope after me? These things don't need to climb.

They can jump.

The first one, the smoking sizzling mess that is the first who survive the door, comes streaking out of the air like a malevolent heat seeking missile locked on me. I see it leap, its arms spread, its mouth wide, rows of teeth coming and I jerk my back out, throwing myself to the side to swing. It comes in hard, but thrown off by my jinx, it slams into me and careens off, leaving me spinning, the rope slips in my wounded hand. I yell at it in defiance and it feels good, the pain becomes anger and it fuels me.

I don't climb to survive. I don't climb because I crave tomorrow. I don't climb because I am afraid to die.

I climb because fuck these guys. I have lived hard and lost too many people to let these abominations win. These creatures are diseased freaks and I will not surrender my life to them. They are not worthy of me.

Half way now. A weight hits me, another leaping creature coming from the side, I didn't even know it was there. It hits me but they're too fast, too hungry, too rushed to do it properly. It slams into me and I almost slip, I almost let go. But it misses its mark, its claws do not find purchase and it falls to the deck below.

How many more strikes will I survive? How much luck do I have left?

Three metres to go. Goddamn it yes I am over half way goddamn them all they will not have me they will not be the ones who will still my heart. I could not end my own life. No one else will take that privilege from me. Christ I am so close Mother Father I am coming I am going to make it.