Martial Tourism Pt.13

I reached around to my back where my pistol was holstered only to swipe at air.

~~Previously~~

I turned my eyes on my assailant and then scoured the ground for my weapon. My pistol lie between us in the dirt, not but three meters and some from where the staff lie, but our struggles had put me in closer proximity to the staff.

I looked up again and we locked eyes. The cocksure grin on his face never changed as he shifted and lifted his bloodied hand. The wound had since stopped bleeding but now was slowly leaking an ichor which seemed to shimmer even in the waning light and reaching shadows of the emerging night.

“Go ahead,” he urged, motioning with his head toward the firearm but never tearing his stare away from me.

That brief lull drew my attention firmly to the pain shooting through my thigh and I flicked my eyes toward my blood-soaked leg and the blade that now rested at an even more awkward angle than before. Anything that I could think to do for the wound now would only make it worse. Wresting it free would only lead, almost assuredly, to me bleeding out. I made to shift my weight, to test the damage, and sure enough, a shooting pain reinforced what I was dreading.

Whether he had followed my gaze or was simply relishing in my anguish, Calum chuckled and stood up. “All tuckered out? Shame that. A bleedin’ shame,” to which I gritted my teeth as he continued while meandering toward the vacant firearm.

A rustling at the treeline and a prolonged sigh seized our attention.

“Calum!” her voice exploded forth through the trees, though the way she walked toward us didn’t match. She spoke with an extreme confidence that did not reflect the clear damage to her right arm which seemed to be hanging, was definitely clawed, and dripping blood. I could finally see her face clearly which was splattered with freckles and etched with intricate lines. Her eyes were a deep purple, and it seemed to bleed into the lines embedding her skin.

His head whipped in her direction, and I used that moment to scramble toward my gun. The moment distraction of him looking back my way was all it took for her to be on him – a flying knee to his chin sent his head reeling back, and he practically flipped over from the force. I’m almost sure I heard his neck snap. Or his skull crack? By the time I had my gun pointed and ready, she was standing over him.

She looked over at me briefly before collapsing back into a seated position. She took an extra second to kick Calum’s leg then sighed and rested her arm on her knee. I couldn’t help but notice her eyes and the lines etched into her face had stopped glowing, as if she had gone dormant.

~~ToBeContinued~~