Akur (Restitution #3)

Constance

9

Constance

Running in total darkness meant relying on instinct and prayer. Constance’s fingers remained locked around Akur’s arm as they fled, their footsteps drowned out by the cacophony of mechanical sounds and creatures shrieking around them.

She was either going to piss herself out of fear or her heart was going to give out. “For someone who prefers to stand and fight, you run remarkably well,” she panted.

“For a non-violent human, you fight remarkably well,” he countered behind her, his voice almost lost to the sounds around them.

“Hey, I’m not non-violent.” She almost stumbled as one of the creature’s thick bodies slammed into her from the left. She was supported immediately as Akur came up beside her. A moment later, she heard a squelch as his blade found its mark. “Just…selectively violent.”

She was sure he laughed. A deep, rich sound that shouldn’t reach her ears so easily with the surrounding chaos.

The tunnel seemed endless. Endless darkness. Still so thick she couldn’t see. Only when Akur adjusted his stride, his body slight ly ahead of hers as he led them now, did she realize he could definitely see much better than she could. Adjusting his grasp, he turned his hand so he was gripping hers instead.

A glance over her shoulder and she couldn’t see the pursuing vehicle. But she could hear it. See a light far off piercing the darkness. They were coming.

“Any chance these things are running toward something pleasant? Like a nice underground spa?”

Akur’s grunt might have been amusement or pain. “Your ability to joke while fleeing death is…concerning.”

“My therapist would have a field day with this. Oh wait, that’s me.”

The mechanical sounds grew louder, accompanied by shouted orders that echoed off the walls. They came down the tunnel as if the fiends were right behind them. Had the gator-guards spotted them already?

As if reading her mind, Akur answered. “They know we’re down here. They haven’t spotted us yet. These creatures are giving us cover.”

Constance swallowed hard. Nice, and what would happen when the creatures fled into whatever hole they came out of in the first place? They’d be left running in the open like ducks. “What are these things, anyway?”

“Tunnel dwellers. Ancient. Hungry.” He grunted, tugging her along. “Less talking. More running.”

She wanted to argue that talking helped her cope with terror, but she saved her breath. The tunnel curved sharply left, then right. The floor became treacherous—slick in some places, uneven in others. She stumbled once, but Akur’s steady grip kept her upright.

“Careful,” he growled. “I would love to, but I cannot carry you. Not yet.”

Right. He was barely alive. Not that she wanted him to carry her. She was barely making it, but she could do so on her own two feet.

“Wouldn’t dream of asking.” But she squeezed his hand in silent thanks .

The sounds behind them changed—metal striking stone, followed by inhuman shrieks cut short by weapon fire.

“They’re killing them.” She looked back the way they’d come, hardly able to see a thing except for the light from the vehicle illuminating behind a bend.

“Good. Let them fight each other.”

But even as he spoke, more creatures poured past them, forcing them closer to the wall. The tunnel was getting narrower; the ceiling lower. She was even sure Akur was ducking his head from how he moved.

“This is bad,” she whispered.

Akur grunted, a sound she assumed was the affirmative. “The creatures know these tunnels. They’re leading us somewhere.”

“Yeah, to dinner. Us being the main course.” She wanted to fire again, but she was sure if she did, it would be like sending a flare, telling the gator-guards exactly where they were. “We need another option.”

“I am open to suggestions.” Was that actual humor in his voice?

As they rounded another bend, the airflow changed immediately, and her heart sank.

“We have a choice to make. The tunnel divides. There are three paths ahead.”

And, from the feel of it, the creatures were pouring into the rightmost tunnel like water going down a drain.

“Left,” she decided instantly.

“Why?”

“Because they’re going right, and I don’t trust the middle path. It’s too obvious.”

Another sound that might have been a laugh rumbled through his chest. “Your logic is…”

“Brilliant? Strategic?”

“Human.”

She was going to take that as a compliment. “Yeah, well, following monster swarms isn’t usually the best survival strategy.”

“Better than capture.” A grunt as he presumably cut down anothe r creature that slammed into him hard enough that he was thrust back against her. “Unless you prefer fighting those brutes head-on?”

The mechanical thumping grew louder, the gator-guards’ shouted commands bouncing off the walls even clearer. They were gaining on them.

“Neither option sounds great.”

She thought he’d follow his instinct. Head after the flood of creatures going right. But he did the opposite. He went left.

“Hurry, they’re getting closer.” She tried to pick up the pace, but her legs felt like lead.

“Your powers of observation continue to impress.” Despite his words, there was no mockery in his tone—only strain and something else she couldn’t quite identify.

The left tunnel proved to be a mistake. After only a dozen meters, it narrowed dramatically. Akur had to run partially sideways to fit through, his massive frame scraping both walls.

“This may have been a tactical error,” he rumbled.

“You think?” The words came out sharper than intended. “Sorry, near-death experiences make me snippy.”

The tunnel narrowed further.

“We appear to be out of options,” Akur said, but his voice was oddly calm.

“That’s twice now you’ve been ready to die in these tunnels. I’m starting to think you’re not very pragmatic.”

“I would take them all down.” His body shifted, and maybe he was looking back at her. “But I have you. I will not risk your life for just a few kills.”

His words made her lids flicker. “You’re not fighting because of me ?”

Akur’s grip tightened on her wrist. “You are more important than you realize, little human. I am fighting… for you.”

His words held a lot more than she could process. What’s worse, it felt like they were running from the inevitable. No matter what, how did they get out of this ?

“You shouldn’t have come.” Her breaths felt hot as they pressed through the narrowing tunnel. “You’re only here because you followed me.”

“So I did.” Those three words carried a weight she wasn’t ready to examine.

Behind them, the sounds of battle grew fainter, but the mechanical thumping of the guards’ equipment could still be heard. New fear unlocked.

“They really want us back,” she panted.

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I’m just a human. There’s nothing special about me. And you’re…”

“A rebel? A warrior? A thorn in their side?”

“I was going to say a pain in the ass, but those work, too.”

Another of those rumbling almost-laughs, cut short by a grunt of pain. She’d almost forgotten that just hours before, he was near death. They needed to find a spot to hide. To rest. To recoup.

She wasn’t sure that would happen. The tunnel was getting even narrower; the walls pressing in on both sides. Her chest felt tight—whether from exertion or claustrophobia, she couldn’t tell.

“We need to turn back,” Akur said suddenly. “This path is a dead end.”

“How can you tell?”

“The air. It is stagnant ahead.”

He stopped moving, but hope made her squeeze past him in the tight space. Even when she took a few steps forward, one hand outstretched to guide her, he didn’t let go of the other. For about twelve feet, she paced before her outstretched hand met solid stone. He was right—the tunnel ended in a blank wall.

“No,” she whispered. Her hand traveled over the rock face, searching for an opening that wasn’t there. “No. There must be something.”

Behind them, the mechanical sounds grew louder. Light flickered at the edge of her vision—they were close enough now that she could see the shadows of their pursuers stretching along the tunnel walls .

“Stay behind me.”

Her gaze flicked to the alien, and her breath caught. With the gator-guards’ light, the darkness was not as absolute as before. She could see her companion now. See the blood. The gashes in his flesh. See the way he was standing tall despite all that. Guarding her. Something deep inside her constricted at the sight.

“No. In this narrow space? We’d be target practice.” She spun around, staring at the dark wall before them as if hope would open a door. “This is my fault. I chose this tunnel.”

“Yes.” He released her now, the heat of his grasp disappearing as he grabbed both his swords. Turning from her, he faced the tunnel, almost completely blocking her from view. “You did.”

“Thanks for the comfort.”

“I don’t offer comfort. I offer truth.” He shifted slightly, a stance that told her he was ready for business. “But I followed you, anyway.”

The simple statement hit her hard. He was right. He’d followed her. Trusted her. And she’d led them into a trap.

This was the end.

When the wall behind her shifted, she didn’t first notice. But then, when it happened again, it was distinct enough for her to feel. A definite movement in the stone she was pressing against. Before she could process what was happening, the wall moved, and something grabbed her arm—a hand that felt wrong. Rough. Bumpy. Moist. She glimpsed white fabric, a flutter of robes, and then she was being pulled backward through an opening that hadn’t been there seconds before.

“Akur!” Eyes wide, his name left her lips on instinct as she stretched for him. And he was there. He moved quicker than he should be able to, grabbing her outstretched arm as she was yanked through the hole, taking him with her. The force of it sent them both tumbling, their bodies twisting in the darkness as they fell. Her stomach lurched at the sensation of emptiness beneath them, the ground disappearing as they plummeted. They hit hard—first her, then him on top of her with a grunt that knocked the air from both their lungs.