Artwork by Chokchai Poomichaiya
Sawyer grins broadly, rolls their neck, and tells Ash, “Time to earn our pay.”
As Sawyer rises to their feet, claws extend from their hands, and with a high-pitched screech, they launch towards the mass of black, worm-like creatures roiling through the opening of the cave.
Ash’s mind slips to a clinical observation state, a self-preservation tactic he learned years ago. As if outside his own body, he observes the hatchlings slithering forward swiftly. The creatures have a shiny black articulated carapace with hundreds of little legs, each ending with a grasping claw. The eyeless head separates with a triparted jaw, with another snapping mouth and neck within, extending its reach three feet.
Sawyer falls upon the creatures, moving to match their speed. Their screeching battle cry seems to bother the draklings ears. Sawyer’s skills and magic directly counteract the strengths of the draklings. They are the front line, holding back several of the hatchlings alone.
The twins use catch poles, long poles with looped cords on the end, to capture creatures while keeping them from swarming Sawyer. Ash takes the middle position, bashing any hatchlings that get past Sawyer before they can attack the twins.
Sawyer’s voice rings out over the din of alarms and chittering. “Two incoming,” Sawyer yells. “Remember, we need one wriggling!”
The world around seems to slow as Ash’s reflexes speed up. He hefts his trusty baseball bat. The crystals set into the bottom of the bat glow faintly with Ash’s magic. Knowing instinctively that the twins can handle one, he twists to let the first hatchling by, then spins to gain momentum and bring the bat down hard, crushing the head of the second hatchling.
Before he recovers properly, a third hatchling slams into his blind side, sending him out of position. He hits the ground hard but manages to avoid being stunned. However, he loses his calm battle mind, raw panic starts to grip him. Tapping into his attuned crystals for assistance, he accelerates his movements and starts to bludgeon the rogue hatchling over and over. Momentarily deafened by the blood rushing in his ears, he loses track of the battle until Sawyer’s calming voice cuts through.
“Easy kid. You got it,” Sawyer croons like speaking to a wild animal. Coming to his senses, Ash looks up and around. He noticed Sawyer’s claws dripping with ichor, and half a dozen of the hatchlings lay at their feet. Several scratches ooze on Sawyer's face. As Ash studies the veteran, the wounds begin to close slowly.
Ash grins sheepishly as his crystals slowly dim.
“We got one!” Travis shouts. He and Teresa both hold onto a pole with the squirming, wriggling drakling in the loop at the end. Sawyer strides over and picks it up, shoving it roughly into a sack.
Ash watches with trepidation. “Why do we need demicats anyway?”
Sawyer smirks. “You know what a radrat is, right?” Teresa and Travis start packing up their gear silently, letting Sawyer take lead on the explanations.
Ash nods, “Sure… they sneak in through the sewers and spread plague and radiation disease through the city. The news said they’re working on a cure.”
Sawyer scoffs, “Cure… Sure… for those with connections. It’s another way for those corps to put money in their pockets.” Sawyer pauses to make their disdain for the corps completely clear. “That’s not what we’re doing. We want to build a healthy demicat population in Undertown.” Sawyer shakes the sack a little and the creature inside squirms. They grin maliciously. “Demicats hunt extremely dangerous creatures, including radrats. The Wild Storm gave them resistance to the plague and radiation, and heightened senses. They are kind of amazing creatures really.” Their voice takes on a fond tone as they describe their ultimate prey. “I’d probably own a dozen if they were tamable.”
Travis snickers, “You’d definitely be an old cat hoarder.”
Sawyer playfully smacks Travis off the back of the head.
“Good work, kids. Now let's go get us some demicats.”
With that, the four hunters move deeper into the tunnels in search of their elusive prey.
