be her only salvation.
Come out , she willed the creature. Face me, and feel the fear you now inspire .
Two pinpricks appeared at the treeline, evil lights from within the world of black, and behind them emerged a graceful shadow—soundless, slithering over the earth like a breath of wind, until it at last came within reach of the light. Liz sighed with relief. It was another lion.
Emboldened by her previous encounter, she raised her sidearm and took careful aim, allowing the animal to come closer so long as it did not lunge. It paused at the fallen carcass and hissed at her angrily, the look in its eyes suggesting this was an anger borne out of grief. No , she thought. It’s just an animal . But then, what was it about that terrible gaze that made her feel…empathy?
Liz lowered her weapon and took a few steps backward to let the creature mourn in peace. The lion watched her suspiciously and hissed again. Chances were that it was just as hungry as the one she had killed. Did lions eat their own? So much the better for her if so.
Suddenly the lion’s demeanor changed and became calm—submissive, even. Its eyes shifted to a position just over her right shoulder, and ice once again flowed through her veins. She turned back toward her fire as two more lions—bigger and more ferocious than the first two—leapt upon the road’s concrete divider and roared their cries of victory. They had caught her in a pincer attack.
Liz had less than a second before becoming their next meal, and the soldier in her kicked in. She pointed her sidearm back at the lone lion and pulled the trigger, eliminating the threat from behind, and then fired upon the two preparing to pounce from the divider. One bullet was not enough to stop them. She planted three in one before it fell backward, giving the other time to pounce. She brought the gun in line with the animal’s trajectory and sent a bullet straight into its torso. The force was enough to knock it to the ground, but not kill it.
She took careful aim again and pulled the trigger. The gun responded with a quiet click—she was out of ammo. Six rounds ? She thought incredulously. Gavin dropped me in the middle of the Wilderness with less than half a magazine? That cheap son of a—
The lion was back on its feet. She dropped the sidearm—now worthless to her—and lifted the glowing Spectral Gladius between her and her foe. Now she would have to deal with the predator at close range, and would likely only get one shot at a counter stroke. If it wasn’t perfect, the lion would pin her down and it would all be over.
A low growl sounded from the lion’s throat, and it reared back on its hind legs. Liz felt the muscles in her arms tighten as she prepared for the lunge. The lion sprang, quick as a bolt of lightning, its jaws wide and its claws outstretched. Speed and agility were strengths Liz normally took pride in, but even at her best it would have been close. The cold and fatigue made her weak, and she didn’t make it. The lion’s claws raked across her back, tearing through cloth and flesh as she narrowly avoided being pinned and impaled. Pain exploded through her torso, but she could not allow the lion to make another attempt.
As the creature’s momentum carried it by her, she swung Ignis downward and nearly cut it in half. The lion gave one final yelp of pain, and slumped to the ground…dead.
Liz was left with nothing but the sound of her own ragged breaths and the sensation of blood pounding through her veins. Four lions lay dead around her, and she still stood—but that did not mean she had survived. She reached back with difficulty to probe the wound on her back, and her hand came away slick with blood. If not for the protection of her coat, the lion might have torn into her spine. The coat had absorbed much of the blow so that her skin had only been grazed—still a nasty set of wounds that would undoubtedly leave a scar.
The burning pain was not her concern so much as
Come out , she willed the creature. Face me, and feel the fear you now inspire .
Two pinpricks appeared at the treeline, evil lights from within the world of black, and behind them emerged a graceful shadow—soundless, slithering over the earth like a breath of wind, until it at last came within reach of the light. Liz sighed with relief. It was another lion.
Emboldened by her previous encounter, she raised her sidearm and took careful aim, allowing the animal to come closer so long as it did not lunge. It paused at the fallen carcass and hissed at her angrily, the look in its eyes suggesting this was an anger borne out of grief. No , she thought. It’s just an animal . But then, what was it about that terrible gaze that made her feel…empathy?
Liz lowered her weapon and took a few steps backward to let the creature mourn in peace. The lion watched her suspiciously and hissed again. Chances were that it was just as hungry as the one she had killed. Did lions eat their own? So much the better for her if so.
Suddenly the lion’s demeanor changed and became calm—submissive, even. Its eyes shifted to a position just over her right shoulder, and ice once again flowed through her veins. She turned back toward her fire as two more lions—bigger and more ferocious than the first two—leapt upon the road’s concrete divider and roared their cries of victory. They had caught her in a pincer attack.
Liz had less than a second before becoming their next meal, and the soldier in her kicked in. She pointed her sidearm back at the lone lion and pulled the trigger, eliminating the threat from behind, and then fired upon the two preparing to pounce from the divider. One bullet was not enough to stop them. She planted three in one before it fell backward, giving the other time to pounce. She brought the gun in line with the animal’s trajectory and sent a bullet straight into its torso. The force was enough to knock it to the ground, but not kill it.
She took careful aim again and pulled the trigger. The gun responded with a quiet click—she was out of ammo. Six rounds ? She thought incredulously. Gavin dropped me in the middle of the Wilderness with less than half a magazine? That cheap son of a—
The lion was back on its feet. She dropped the sidearm—now worthless to her—and lifted the glowing Spectral Gladius between her and her foe. Now she would have to deal with the predator at close range, and would likely only get one shot at a counter stroke. If it wasn’t perfect, the lion would pin her down and it would all be over.
A low growl sounded from the lion’s throat, and it reared back on its hind legs. Liz felt the muscles in her arms tighten as she prepared for the lunge. The lion sprang, quick as a bolt of lightning, its jaws wide and its claws outstretched. Speed and agility were strengths Liz normally took pride in, but even at her best it would have been close. The cold and fatigue made her weak, and she didn’t make it. The lion’s claws raked across her back, tearing through cloth and flesh as she narrowly avoided being pinned and impaled. Pain exploded through her torso, but she could not allow the lion to make another attempt.
As the creature’s momentum carried it by her, she swung Ignis downward and nearly cut it in half. The lion gave one final yelp of pain, and slumped to the ground…dead.
Liz was left with nothing but the sound of her own ragged breaths and the sensation of blood pounding through her veins. Four lions lay dead around her, and she still stood—but that did not mean she had survived. She reached back with difficulty to probe the wound on her back, and her hand came away slick with blood. If not for the protection of her coat, the lion might have torn into her spine. The coat had absorbed much of the blow so that her skin had only been grazed—still a nasty set of wounds that would undoubtedly leave a scar.
The burning pain was not her concern so much as
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