The Lost War Karl Gallagher (red white and royal blue hardcover .txt) 📖

trees. He saw an arm in the corner of his eye but when he snapped his head to look it was just a branch.

He followed Crusher past the first tree. There wasn’t anything behind it. He looked left to right to check for orcs. Nothing. At the second tree he stopped. The newbies behind him pulled up to not bump into him.

Crusher kept moving deeper into the woods.

Strongarm tried to follow him. His feet wouldn’t move. He looked down. Willed the right foot to take a step. Nothing. Looked up and around to see if something had snuck up while he stared at his feet.

He heard Crusher order a halt then walk back. “Hey. It’s just a walk in the woods. Last two times we didn’t see anything.”

“Yeah, I know. I just . . .” Maybe if he picked up a foot and put it back down again? No, that wasn’t happening either.

Behind him a newbie muttered, “What’s going on?” Another shushed him.

Talking himself into moving wasn’t working. Nor did ordering himself. Now he was fretting about the anxiety he was feeling over having an anxiety attack. Bad feedback loop.

Crusher said quietly, “Okay, not today then. Go to the gate, ask one of the guards to switch places with you. Go.”

Strongarm turned around and walked briskly back.

Behind him Crusher snarled, “Shut the fuck up, Rivet. He’s killed orcs. I’ve seen the bodies. You haven’t.”

***

Lady Burnout held up the tent flap as Constable and another man carried Belladonna in. “What’s the trouble?”

“She screamed, grabbed her belly, and passed out,” grunted Constable. “I’d guess the baby’s coming.”

“I hope not. She’s six months along at most.” Burnout hadn’t noticed any sign of pregnancy when doing the rape exam almost four months ago. Belladonna had avoided the chiurgeon since, but camp gossip had passed word of her swollen belly.

“Looks overdue to me,” said Constable

Apprentice Elderberry helped him lay her on the exam table. Lying flat showed her belly’s true size.

“Damn. My wife didn’t get that big with either of hers,” said the other man.

“Give me room, please.” They stepped out of Lady Burnout’s way as she pulled up Belladonna’s dress. The pregnant belly stretched as the baby kicked and pushed. “Not having a contraction.” She paused. “That looks . . . wrong somehow.”

She turned her attention to the patient’s vitals. Pulse weak and fast. Skin very pale. Fingernails stayed white when pressed. If she had internal bleeding there wasn’t much chance of saving her. Checking the underwear showed no blood stains so not a miscarriage. Yet.

“I’m going to have to wake her up so I can talk to her. Hand me the smelling salts.”

Elderberry held the vial out to the chiurgeon, who waved it under the unconscious woman’s nose.

Belladonna opened her eyes and screamed.

Lady Burnout grabbed her shoulders and tried to calm her. The patient just turned away, still screaming. Burnout kept talking until something wet splashed her arm. She turned to look at the swollen belly.

A black claw poked out just below the sternum. Blood sprayed from the hole. The claw sliced through skin to the belly button, letting more blood flow.

Belladonna choked and went silent.

A green-skinned head poked out of the slit. A wide grin displayed dozens of shark teeth.

The creature sprang free of Belladonna’s body like a carnivorous frog. It slid underneath the tent wall and vanished.

“Get it! Kill it!” cried Constable. He led the other man out of the tent at a sprint.

Elderberry had her finger on Belladonna’s neck. “No pulse,” she said.

“Damn. Start compressions,” said Burnout.

As the apprentice started CPR the doctor opened up the wound to check how bad the bleeding was. Then she stepped back. “Never mind. She’s gone.”

When the men returned Burnout was making notes on the extent of the damage.

“Goddamned thing was faster than a cat,” reported Constable. “It went over the fence into the woods. What the hell happened here?”

Burnout pulled open the collapsed belly skin. “Clearly some kind of parasite was growing inside her. It must have been feeding on her internally. There’s whole organs missing. Womb and ovaries. Most of the small intestine. Half the liver. One kidney.”

She wiped her hands. “There isn’t nearly as much blood as there should be for this damage. It must have spread a coagulant. All the blood is from the skin cuts.”

“What was it?” he asked. “Where did it come from?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

***

The hard part of weaving the weir was finding enough long pieces of wood. Long branches from cut trees and scraps from shaping logs were the best she could do.

Goldenrod’s personal charisma wasn’t enough to overcome Autocrat Sharpquill’s frown. She had to finish the weir by herself. Once she had a stack of cross-pieces by the weir it was time to find some spearmen.

Goldenrod suspected the eagerness of the volunteers wasn’t for the chance to kill some cuttlefish. She didn’t want to subject her bras to river water so she did the work in just shorts and a t-shirt. This made the guards very attentive to her.

She’d rather they were watching out to see the cuttlefish approaching. None of them had dragged her under the water but more days than not she wound up clinging to the weir while the spearmen stabbed an annoying critter.

They did seem to be getting scarcer.

Actually building the weir wasn’t hard, just tedious. She wove a cross-piece back and forth between the poles sticking out of the water. Once it held in place she shoved it to the bottom.

The shoreward side of the V was done. Working in the deeper water left Goldenrod immersed to her neck. The guards didn’t mind since she had to wade back for the next piece of wood each time.

Her legs stung where they’d been