Page 15 of Inceptive (Ingenious #3)

15

WILL

W ill awakened refreshed from a long nap. The sun shone through the midafternoon drizzle, and his first rainbow ever stretched over and beyond the swamp. The vivid colors stole his breath. The event seemed to upset the wildlife, with nary a croak or chirp from the cane.

Suddenly, a clear joyous song broke the eerie silence. Belle! She dropped a present on the side porch and flew away.

“I won’t cage you,” he yelled after her. He hoped she’d bring her young for a visit.

“She was free long before you saved her.” Zach hugged him and then fetched the present—a string of sausages. “Sausages again. She must be saving fish and fresh meat for her chicks. Not that I’m complaining.” He carried the string inside.

A wide-mouth fish as long as Will’s arm had been stealing fish attracted to the baited traps. With a flick of its tail, the fish would dart from beneath the porch and swallow skillet-sized fish. It had ignored the baited lines thrown by Will and Zach and lazily swished the surface out of reach of spears and nets, as if taunting the men.

From the corner of his eye, Will saw the fish swim under the front porch. Zach could eat the sausages. Will was eating fresh fish. Moving quietly, he snipped two tomatoes from the window box and grabbed a spear and net. The breeze was mild, and keeping his shadow off the water, he tiptoed from the porch, picked a spot a few feet from the trap, and scattered pieces of tomato into the water to attract the small fry in the cane. The fry darted out, churning the water in a frenzy for the pieces. With the irresistible feast, the big fish charged with its mouth open to scoop the fry.

“Aha, gotcha!” Will swung the net, deftly twisted as taught, and struggled to bring it to the walkway before the fish untwisted it and escaped. The heavy fucker thrashed, pulling Will farther away from the porch as he worked the net. Thankful for his hundreds of chin-ups, Will dropped the spear, tightened his grip, and swung the net up and onto the walkway. He looked for the spear to kill it and realized he was near the end of the walkway, close to the swamp. He opened his mouth to yell for Zach when he heard a swoosh. Landing between him and the porch was a pteryox with a squealing slink in its talons. It dispatched the slink with a hard strike against the walkway. The pteryox heard the flopping sounds of the netted fish and cocked its head at Will, standing frozen a few paces away. Its wingspan was wider than the walkway, and a pteryox could extend its neck and beak longer than the reach of a spear. Its talons were razor sharp, as was the curved beak. At a third of Will’s weight, it couldn’t carry off a human. Will would have to be ripped apart and carried as juicy chunks in its throat pouch back to the nest to feed its young.

What had Zach told him? Clumsy on land, they could be outrun, but for all their weight, they could spring high, aiming for the eyes. If confronted, Will must flee in the opposite direction at a dead run—the swamp, in this instance—while covering his eyes.

The pteryox dropped the dead slink and eyed the fish.

“Take the fish.” He kept his voice silky, even. “Nice fishy. No fur to strip before feeding your young.”

The fish flopped out of the net and over the edge into the water. The pteryox turned its attention toward the pink-skinned human, with a mouth gaping like the fish. Its wings flapped, and its body poised to spring.

“Drop and cover your eyes!” Zach raced toward them with a spear and paddle, whooping and shouting. The pteryox pivoted, screeched, and charged Zach.

As Will crouched and wrapped his arms around face, he heard the swoosh of wings coming from behind. Scalding knives sliced his shoulders. Mated pteryox hunted together when feeding fledglings. He rolled to escape the beak stabbing his forearm, and he fell into the water. His body hit the muddy bottom, and he snatched blindly with his right hand for fistfuls of cane to keep from being dragged away by the unpredictable current. Using his bleeding left arm to cover his eyes, he kicked up for air, and a talon immediately pierced the arm. The creature would mangle his arm until Will couldn’t cover his face, then it would sink its talons through his eyes, driving deep into his brain.

Through the water clogging his ears, he heard the pteryox screeching in pain. Its yellow stinking feces splattered him as it flew away. The coppery scent of his blood mingled with the stench of rotting melon. His forearm bled, and his grip weakened. His eyes stung from dripping gunk as he hooked his legs around the cane, fighting the current pulling him.

“Let go. I have you.” Zach had jumped in. Holding Will, he waded to the walkway, lifted him out of the water, then hoisted himself up beside him. Will vomited muddy water, then curled on his side. The torn flesh throbbed.

Fingers snapped in his face. “Stay with me, Will. You’re in shock. No, don’t cry. I killed the first one, stunned the second with a paddle.”

“H-hurts…”

“I know it hurts, but we’ve got incoming.” Zach draped him over his shoulder and, without finesse, sprinted toward the cabin. A flock of pteryox circled and shrieked to one another. A shadow swooped, and bones cracked as Zach smashed the paddle at its head. Another darted at them, then swerved. It was a diversion that Zach didn’t fall for. He spun and cracked the pteryox attacking from behind.

Will lifted his head. Two pteryox landed on the porch and poised to spring. “Zach, on the porch…”

The two sprung as Zach spun around. One snatched the paddle from his hand while the other aimed for his eyes. An olive-colored bird rammed its side before it gouged, knocking it into the water.

“Inside, inside, hurry, hurry!” Belle yelled, then blasted the air with barks. Confused, the pteryox retreated long enough for Zach to get inside and bar the door, Belle having flown through behind him. “Shutters, shutters!” she cried.

Zach barred the shutters before laying Will on the table. Thunks hit the awning, then there was the sound of angry shredding. Belle flew close to the ceiling, listening. Tar and capsicum in the thatch thwarted the pteryox attacking the thick layers of the roof. The shrieks stopped, but angry caws continued.

“The alpha pair attacked Will,” Belle said. “Flock will avenge until another pair fight for alpha rank.”

Will must have passed out, but he woke when Zach was bandaging his throbbing forearm. “H-how bad?”

“Everything’s going to be good, Will. I’ve cleaned the wounds with a disinfectant from the med kit and packed your forearm with a dressing.” But Zach’s voice sounded like he was talking to convince himself. “I stitched your shoulders and upper arms. Didn’t see bone or tendons exposed. I applied a salve to combat infection. Can you flex your hand?”

Will managed despite the swelling. His body felt heavy, stiff, and feverish. The symptoms were abnormally rapid. “The f-feces,” he rasped. “Acts like venom. Muddy water’s f-filled with it.”

“Never heard servants complain of venom from the yellow mud.”

“They wear protective gear. Never exposed to massive doses.” Will faded out, awakening when Belle nuzzled his hair and chirruped unhappily. “Aww, pretty birdie, don’t cry.”

“Will! Will! Is bad… is bad… is bad…” She bawled and hopped from foot to foot.

“What in blazes is wrong with her?” Zach loosened the bandage around his forearm. “You’ll be okay. Everything has been cleaned and disinfected. Worst will be a raging hard-on from the disinfectant.” The smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Liar. I’m infected. You heard the siren.” The bandages oozed and smelled like rotting melon. The swelling was tearing stitches, and his skin was jaundiced. “Have to… warn the Island… Lab can stop it spreading.”

Belle flew to the rafter and muttered, as if having a one-way conversation with herself. Her feathers flattened. The muttering ceased, as if she listened to a reply. Whatever she heard upset her. “No! No! No! Bad master!” Her crest stiffened. “Help now.” She flinched as if struck, then scratched at her ruff until a thin collar with a disk fell to the floor.

With her neck bleeding, she fluttered down and kicked at the collar. “No scout. No obey. Love my Will. Master Dante help now!”

The disk glowed and crackled.

Belle hissed at it, then flew to the rafter, shaking her head no.

“A communication device,” Will rasped. Or was he hallucinating? “Where’s home, Belle?”

Her golden gaze met his. “No home without my Will.”

Zach poked the disk with a spear. “Can you help us?” he asked. “Please, help us.” Its glow faded, and he abandoned it to force Will to drink more liquids and bathe him with tepid water.

For the next hour, Belle perched on the rafter, head hunched.

By late evening, Will shook from chills, despite swallowing tea for servants’ agues. He coughed a brown phlegm. There was so much he wanted to say, but coughing choked off his words. The pteryox surrounded the cabin, scratching the walls and screeching.

The coughing settled. An odd peace stole over him. Zach bent low to hear his whispers. “I’m dying. Give my father a message. Nothing could’ve been done to save me. Tell him it’s in the yellow feces.”

“We’ve used it to fertilize our fields for years. The produce has no bad side effects.”

“Zach… a lifeform evolves to survive. Something… has changed.” His voice faded. “Oh… the answer… I see it… You’re too perfect…”