Rise Of The Hunters - Chapter 62

They traveled in silence for the next hour. Xun tried his hardest to keep up, but he was breathing hard when they paused at the base of a cliff.

“We don’t have much time, I’ll climb first.” Craig started up the sheer cliff almost before he was done talking.

Xun and Gerald watched him climb. Not once did he slip or slow down. Xun was impressed.

Once he reached the summit, almost 60 feet in the air, he turned and threw down a rope for them to use. Gerald motioned for him to go first, so Xun tightened his bag straps and grabbed the rope. It was a very well-made rope, so he didn’t have any trouble climbing it. As he reached the half way mark, he felt a tug, and looked down to see Gerald climbing as well. The added weight made the rope stiffer and harder to climb. Picking up his pace, Xun’s hands, arms and legs all burned by the time Craig grabbed his arm and hauled him up.

Sitting off to the side, trying to catch his breath, a howl broke out not too far away. Xun gazed out over the forest and saw birds flying away from an area close by. Glancing down to see how far Gerald still had to climb, he saw that Byrd was quickly climbing up behind him.

Only moments after all four of them were safely on the cliff summit, Craig having already pulled up the rope, the werewolves broke out of the brush and crashed into the wall. Adrenaline flowed through him as he realized they were running up the wall!

“Use your spear and stab at them as they get close!” shouted Gerald, taking a stance near the edge.

The other two also took their stances, so Xun stood up and joined them. Every time one got too close, they would stab at it, knocking it off the cliff, where it would fall the 60 feet and get back up. He lost count how many times they fell to climb back up. Were these things invincible? How could they survive such a fall?

Sweat poured down his face, making his eyes sting. His hands were blistered and covered in splinters from the spear shaft. With his breathing labored, one wolf managed to get past his stab, making the ledge. With a cry of anger, he angled the spear and stabbed it into the mouth as it went to bite him.

He felt it pierce the back of its throat, the slight give of flesh ignored in his dėsɨrė to kill this thing. As it paused, the momentary triumph fading to disbelief in its eyes. He shoved the spear deeper, and lost his grip when it swung at him and he threw himself back to evade.

Falling on his buŧŧ, he watched as the wolf went to take a step back, but only found air. The spear fell with it, and it disappeared from sight. Climbing to his aching feet, he pulled out his sword. There was a hole in their defense and they were swarming towards it. As his arm complained, he swung again and again. The werewolves were healing their wounds as fast as they were inflicted, and still they came.

“Fall back to the cave!” called Gerald from beside him.

Xun took a step back, and took a moment to glance back. The others were dashing towards a hole in the rock. Swinging one last time, he turned and ran. Gerald was just before him, dived in and rolled to the side. Xun could hear their claws on the rock behind him, and prayed that he would make it.

Craig and Byrd were waiting with their spears to stab at the ones behind him as he threw himself into the hole. He scrambled into the cave until he couldn’t go any further. Laying in the very back, all he could do was breath.

The opening was only large enough for the two to stab at the wolves, who suddenly seemed hesitant to approach any closer.

“Why are they not coming any closer?” muttered Gerald next to him.

The werewolf closest to the entrance shook its head and stumbled to the side from the force of the shake. The one just behind it began to shudder as if cold. One by one, they all fell to the ground, quivering, shaking and spasming.

“What’s happening?” whispered Xun, unable to look away.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like this before,” murmured Gerald.

“They’re changing!” exclaimed Byrd as she stepped back from the entrance and looked at them.

Xun managed to crawl to his knees and stood up. It took everything in him to trudge to the opening. Just like every werewolf he had encountered since arriving at Hunter’s Glade, they were all reverting back to the men they had been before.

Of the six werewolves that had attacked them originally, two died almost immediately, drying up to husks. The one he had pushed off the cliff with his spear sticking out of it, also died, blood pooling around him as he mummified. One screamed in pain, unable to articulate anything, as he died, but the other two, those closest to the entrance, lay there panting.

“The pain is so bad!” whimpered one. He had his eyes closed. “Please let me die. I don’t want to hurt anymore!”

“Theo?” whispered Byrd in horror.

“Who…Byrd?” the response was weak and fading. “Don’t get captured, and if hurt…kill yourself. The change is…” His words faded as he began to wither.

“No!” she screamed, running out to him. Xun bȧrėly managed to evade her as she pushed past him.

The last man lay there, watching them. He didn’t say anything, but tears were running down his face. Xun looked at him for a moment, not sure what to do. Should he kill him so the end would be swifter and less painful?

“Xun?” the man finally whispered. “Find your mother. She’s been captured…”