“The hungering?” I repeated, hefting the axe in my hand.

Vasily nodded. “A night earlier than we’d expected.” He made a disgusted noise. “A night earlier than they’ve ever come in the village’s history, as far as I know, and our Sorvaraji incapacitated.”

“Orders, Vasily?” Serghei asked quietly.

“Go to the drying sheds and get as many logs as you can,” the old man instructed. “We can use them to build a barrier around the Altar. Between its power and the barrier, maybe we can hold them out.” He looked around. “Everyone, help bring logs. If we run out of logs, then we dig.”

“Vasily, there’s no time,” Renica whispered. “The hungering – they’ll be here in an hour.”

“Unless someone slows them down,” I said slowly, looking out into the trees. This was a bad idea, a terrible idea, but it was the best I could come up with on short notice.

“What?” Vasily asked, turning to face me.

“I could go out there and lure them after me, Vasily,” I answered, staring into the forest. The trees loomed darkly, scraping the moonlit sky like jagged teeth jutting from the earth. Another scream issued from the woods, and the sound chilled my blood.

“That’s absurd,” the old man shook his head.

“Not really,” I replied. I looked over at him. “I made it through the night of the undying, remember?”

“And you almost died,” he hissed.

“Almost means I lived,” I grinned at him.

“The hungering are stronger than the undying, Ionat,” Renica said gravely. “Faster, too.”

“And I’ve got a better weapon,” I hefted the axe. “Two, if you’ve got a spare crossbow or a musket tucked away in the village somewhere.”

“No,” Vasily said firmly. “I forbid it. As Elder of this village, by the charter sworn beneath the sun, I command you to stay, Ionat.”

I felt a surge of power lash out from him and crawl across my skin, trying to sink into me. I pushed back against it reflexively, refusing to let the weird energy inside me, and a moment later, the power faded. I took two steps toward the forest, looking back to see the man’s stunned expression.

“What?” he stammered. “How?”

I shrugged. “I’m not part of your village, I guess. You can’t command me.” I took a deep breath. “Vasily, look around you. Look at all these people. What will happen if the hungering get here in an hour and you don’t have a barrier up?”

“They’ll die,” a voice spoke, and I turned to see Serghei standing beside me, holding a crossbow and a short quiver filled with bolts in his hand. He held them out for me. “You asked for a crossbow, right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, taking the weapon and examining it. It was smaller than the one Renica used, but the cocking lever it used was probably faster to reload, and since it was lighter, it would be easier to carry in the forest.

“Here,” Renica said, unfastening her harness and walking over to hand it to me. “Put that on, and you can hook the crossbow on your back while you travel.” She helped me struggle into the harness and adjust it, while Serghei belted the closed quiver of bolts to my waist.

“Tell me about the hungering,” I said to the pair. “I’ve never fought them before.”

“Hungering are taller than the average omeni,” Serghei said. “Faster, too, and much stronger. They’re so thin they look skeletal, and their arms are long enough to hand to their knees.”

“How do they attack?” I asked.

“Usually, they try to grab you and pull you close enough to bite.” He shuddered. “We call them the hungering for a reason.”

“The hungering are surrounded by an aura of cold,” Vasily said quietly. “It saps your strength and makes your muscles tired. When they attack, they try to get close enough to slow you down, then pull you down to devour you.”

“Are they poisonous, like the undying?”

“Yes, but only their bites. If one bites you and you live, the wound quickly becomes infected. The fever spreads into your body, burning it from the inside out. Left untreated, it kills in three days, and you rise as a mooncursed.”

“Keep your distance from them and stay mobile,” Serghei advised. “They’re quick, but they’ll stop to eat anything that can’t escape them – even others of their kind. The fastest way to kill one is to take its head.”

I nodded. “Thanks. That should make things easier.”

“You shouldn’t do this, Ionat,” Vasily made one last protest. “It’s suicide!”

“I don’t intend to die, Vasily,” I laughed dryly, my nerves showing despite my bravado. “Trust me. I’m going to go in the woods, drag them around for a while chasing me, then get the heck back here and hide behind whatever barrier you built.” I turned and started walking toward the forest, until something slammed into my back. I stumbled and almost dropped into a fighting stance, ready to hip toss the attacker and pound them into the ground with my elbow before a voice stopped me.

“Stay safe,” Renica murmured, her arms wrapped around my chest.

“I’ll do my best,” I assured her before slipping from her grasp and jogging to the edge of the village. For the second time in less than a week, I dove into the trees, my passage bathed by the moonlight above.

As I trotted through the darkness, my thoughts turned to the hug Renica had just given me. Honestly, it had been a little strange. It felt like a little sister giving me a hug as I left for deployment – not that I knew what that felt like, but I’d seen it happen dozens of times. At the same time, after how quickly Emilina basically asked me to jump into bed with her, I wasn’t sure. What was the culture like, here? Were people really blasé about sex? Or was Emilina just a bit free and open with her affections? I didn’t know, but the thought was in my head, now.

Oddly enough, the fact that I was thinking it made me feel guilty. Not because I thought I’d be taking advantage of them or something. I’d never even hinted that I planned to stay in this village, so any woman who offered me a ride in the sheets knew that it would be a short-term thing at best. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that women didn’t approach those sorts of things with open eyes anymore.

No, the guilt stemmed from the fact that when I thought about them, it made me think about Jing. It was stupid; Jing and I had never done more than kissed, and the odds of me returning to her world while she was still alive were astronomically small. Still, we’d spent months together, and I couldn’t just forget her. I knew that I should, but – I supposed I just wasn’t there, yet.

I was, however, in the middle of what was basically a haunted forest at night while some sort of undead monsters roamed through it, and there I was, daydreaming about a woman. I forced thoughts of all three women from my mind. If I wanted to live long enough to figure out what to do, I needed to focus.

Another scream echoed through the night, sounding like it came from deeper in the forest. I ignored it. Since the things didn’t seem to scream constantly, those sounds weren’t going to help me determine if they were close or not. I held onto my war axe, leaving the crossbow on my back for the moment. If one of the things came for me, it would be better to have the axe handy than the bow. Plus, I didn’t have any way to carry the long weapon except my hands, so the point was kind of moot.

I headed deeper into the forest, away from the village. I moved as swiftly as I could while still staying quiet, slipping from tree to tree to disguise my movements as much as possible. I scanned the forest constantly, looking for anything out of place, any hint of movement to warn me of the creatures’ coming.

Ten minutes later, I caught a flash of something white in the trees at the edge of my vision. I quickly moved to press against a tree, peering past it and looking for the source of that sudden motion. I spotted another glimpse of white, and a moment later, something stepped from behind a tree thirty feet from me, and I got my first glimpse of one of the hungering.

The creature was tall but not towering, standing a few inches taller than me at most. Its body was human-shaped, with pale white skin that glowed in the few beams of moonlight that pierced the trees. It was utterly hairless, totally nude, and lacked any sort of genitals that might identify a gender. Its head was long and oval shaped, the mouth jutting into a muzzle like a chimp’s or gorilla’s. Its eyes were too large and totally black, without irises or whites, and its nose looked like two flaps that opened and closed, sampling the air.

It suddenly froze and turned toward me before opening its muzzle and letting out another shrieking scream. Its mouth was filled with jagged teeth that looked like a shark’s, obviously meant for shearing off flesh rather than chewing. It loped toward me, moving faster than I’d expected, its long arms bent before it, so its claws reached toward me.

I pushed away from the tree to give myself a bit of room; there was no point in hiding when the thing had obviously smelled me. I gripped my war axe and set my feet, pushing aside my rising nerves. I’d fought monsters stranger and worse than this thing back on Kuan. Heck, I’d fed my arm to a Heavenly Beast to kill it. This thing was a pansy compared to that.

Of course, compared to how strong I’d been then, I was a pansy, now, too.

The hungering drew near and swiped at me, its claw flashing out with almost superhuman speed. Only my reflexes saved me, and I ducked the blow, moving sideways as I anticipated its next attack. It slashed with the other hand, its long, taloned fingers grasping, but I parried the strike with my axe. The thing’s wrist hit the axe’s shaft, and I felt the blow shiver down the handle, slightly numbing my hands. The force of it knocked the axe sideways, twisting me slightly, and its other hand lashed out and grabbed my shoulder. I winced as I felt something like tiny barbs punch through my shirt and into my skin, holding me tightly in place.

A chill that had nothing to do with the night air swept over me, and I shivered involuntarily as the cold pressed against my body, trying to sink into my skin. The chill wrapped around me, digging icy fingers into my flesh, and I gasped as the muscles in my shoulder shook and trembled with sudden weakness. As the cold sank into me, though, I set my jaw and pressed back, pushing the way I had against whatever Vasily tried to do to me. The ice flowing into me hesitated, pressing against my will, but I grimly forced it away from me. A moment later, the chill dissipated, and I felt my strength return.

Less than a second had passed, but in that brief second, the hungering tightened its grip on my shoulder and pulled. The creature yanked me toward it with terrible strength, and though I set my feet, they slid across the forest floor, unable to resist its pull. Instead, I reached down and snatched my hand axe from its sheath, then slashed at the wrist gripping me with a powerful blow. The hatchet sank into the joint, and I heard the bone beneath crack. I shoved my leg up against the monster’s chest and pushed, fighting its awful pull – and with a horrific tearing sound, the thing’s hand ripped from its arm, dangling grotesquely from my shoulder.

I staggered back but quickly caught my balance. I’d underestimated this thing’s strength and speed, but now I had a better measure of it. I readied my axe, ignoring the gruesome appendage attached to me, and waited. I didn’t have to wait long; the hungering swiped its remaining hand at me, and I leaned back, allowing it to flash past. Before it could recover, I brought the war axe down on its elbow, twisting with my hips to add power to the blow. The heavy blade made a loud thunk as it cut into the joint, and I yanked the weapon free, leaving the monster’s other arm dangling from its elbow by a thread of flesh.

Still, the creature attacked, swiping at me with its handless arm. I ducked that blow and drove the spear of the axe into the thing’s stomach. I knew the blow wouldn’t hurt it, but it would push it back, and that would give me the space to take one of its spindly legs. To my surprise, when the spearhead plunged into the thing’s stomach, though, it screamed and jerked back, recoiling as if in pain. Black fluid pumped from the wound I’d made, and the hungering staggered for a moment, lowering its hands to its stomach for a second before recovering.

In that second, I swept the war axe around, slamming the blade into the side of the creature’s neck. The axe wasn’t wide enough to behead it, but the blade drove through its vertebrae and severed its spinal cord. The beast collapsed instantly, and I brought the axe high overhead. A second chop finished the partial decapitation, and the monster’s mouth stilled as its head rolled free from its body.

I lowered the axe and looked around, remembering the night of the undying and how one battle inevitably drew more of the creatures toward me, but for the moment, it seemed I was safe. Well, as safe as one could be in a hunted forest filled with undead. At least, none of the monsters were in sight, which meant I had time to get the thing’s hand off my body.

I grabbed the severed hand and tried to pull, but the barbs in my flesh held tightly. I stopped and considered my options. I really only had two that I could see. First, I could cut the thing off by sliding my war axe or hatchet between it and my skin. While that might work, it would probably also leave those barbs stuck in my flesh. While I believed Vasily when he said they weren’t poisoned, I assumed that they could still cause a normal infection if I just left them in me.

Second, I could tear them free with brute force. The barbs didn’t feel like they were deep, but that would still hurt, and even worse, it would bleed. That thing smelled me, and I was sure that an open, bleeding wound would draw them even faster than just my BO did. I wanted them to chase me, but I didn’t want them to run me down and eat me.

My eyes fell on the creature’s other limb, and I realized I had a third option. I grabbed the mostly severed forearm and yanked it, tearing it from the rest of the body with a wet pop. I lifted it up and stepped into the brightest patch of moonlight I could find, examining its palm closely. The thing’s hand looked like it was coated with fine hairs of some sort, pale little strands that gave it a fuzzy appearance. I brought the limb closer to my face and tried to focus on the small strands. There was something odd about them, almost as if they were blunted…

“They’re hooks, not barbs, John,” Sara said after a moment.

“What?”

“Hooks. Its palm is covered with tiny hooks. I can barely make them out – technically, you can barely make them out, and I can just tell the shape. They look like little, sharp hooks that cut into flesh and snag there.”

I touched the palm cautiously and felt the hooks snag my skin. When I slid my finger away from its wrist, the hooks caught and held. When I reversed the motion…

“Got it.” I dropped the forearm and grabbed the hand, pushing it past me. It stung briefly, but the hand moved freely, sliding out of my flesh and leaving only a sore, swollen area where it grabbed me. “The hooks only worked in one direction. I figured they had to, or that thing wouldn’t be able to let go of one meal to start on the next.”

“Good thinking,” she said approvingly. “Now what, though? We’re out here alone with an unknown number of hungering, all of which want to kill and eat you. Do you have a plan?”

I looked down at the creature, my mind racing. The hungering hadn’t attacked until it smelled me, and those flaps on its nose sort of suggested it had a great sense of smell. If I wanted to avoid the things and hunt them, all I had to do was move downwind of them. The problem with that was that I didn’t know if I could move far enough to get downwind of all of them, or if that was even possible. Plus, my goal wasn’t to evade the creatures. It was to keep them away from the village.

That meant I needed to get upwind of them – or lure them that way with something else. The body at my feet might work, but it was already putrefying, and I wasn’t sure if it would last long enough to draw the creatures. My scent could do it, but then, the scent of forty or so people would probably overpower mine, unless I made mine stronger somehow.

I glanced at my injured shoulder and grimaced. Blood would work. I bet those things would be drawn to blood like moths to a flame. I sighed and licked my finger, lifting it to test the wind, then moved into the forest. I had some bait to lay out.

I spotted the next hungering from farther off, far enough that I was able to grab the crossbow, cock it, and fit a bolt to it before the thing caught my scent, all taking about ten seconds. I aimed carefully, and the crossbow twanged softly as it fired. The bolt lanced forward and plunged into the thing’s stomach, just an inch higher than where I’d aimed it. The creature screamed and stumbled, and I quickly dropped the bow and ran forward, gripping the war axe in both hands. The thing recovered as I arrived, swiping at me with a long arm. I ducked the blow and slashed low. The axe hummed as it slammed into the thing’s knee, and I jerked it free and stepped back as the monster whipped its other hand at me. The blow missed, and the creature tumbled to one knee as the leg I’d damaged folded beneath it.

It swiped again, but I hung back, allowing the blow to swish past me, then stepped in and stabbed its stomach. Unfortunately, the creature didn’t react; it looked like once its stomach was pierced, more stabbing didn’t do much good. That was a shame; if all I had to do was stab it in the stomach and cut off its head, fighting these things would be easy.

Instead, I dodged another blow and struck at the offending arm, hitting it in the middle of the forearm. My blade cracked the heavy bone there, and the creature’s arm flopped about like rubber as it swiped back at me. I dodged two more blows before I brought the war axe down on the hungering’s other arm, nearly severing that one. With one leg and both arms out of commission, the creature couldn’t put up much of a fight, and I moved quickly around behind it and slammed my war axe into the back of its neck. The creature dropped instantly as I severed its spine, and a second blow finished the job.

I recovered the bolt and continued on, but the next creature appeared after only a few minutes. This time, I waited until it was closer to put the bolt in its stomach, then rushed up and took out an arm and leg before it had recovered. That made it much easier to shatter the second arm, and again, beheading it once it was nearly helpless was an easy matter.

I couldn’t help but grin as I moved toward a spot upwind of the forest near the village. The fact was, these undead weren’t individually all that dangerous, mostly because they weren’t even a little intelligent. Even a simple animal could learn and vary its attack based on how successful a prior attack was. The undead just charged forward mindlessly without any form of tactics or strategy. That made it easy to predict what they would do, and predicting that made it simpler to kill them.

Of course, the problem was that they weren’t just lone individuals, a fact I swiftly recalled as a second hungering attacked me while I was dealing with a wounded one. I caught a glimpse of it from the corner of my eye just as its hand slammed into my back, snagging my flesh and drawing me toward it. I resisted by instinct before remembering the hooks in its palm. Instead of resisting, I moved toward it, freeing myself from the hooks and ducking beneath its grasping arm. I lashed out at it with my foot, driving it back a step and also pushing me away from it – only to be caught by the swiping hand of the wounded creature as it latched onto my thigh.

Again, the chill of the grave pressed against my body at the monsters’ touch. Ice crept along my spine and wrapped around my leg, trying to numb my muscles and sap my strength. I pushed back on it with my will, driving it out. It was harder this time – probably because there were two of the creatures – but I managed to hold the deadly cold at bay.

I snatched out my hatchet and hacked that hand free, allowing the monster to rip its own appendage from its body. The second one recovered by that point, but I jammed the spearhead of my axe low into its stomach, staggering it and driving it backward. Its hands dropped to the gushing wound, and I slammed the war axe into its neck, killing it instantly. The other creature dropped moments later, and I stood, panting with exertion.

That had been closer than I liked, mostly because I’d been too focused on one creature and lost my situational awareness. I glanced around and saw another pale, white form loping toward me. I grimaced and grabbed my crossbow, then glanced down at the bodies at my feet thoughtfully. Serghei said these things would eat their own kind; would they eat them rather than attacking me? There was only one way to find out.

I retreated straight back, away from the corpses, cocking the crossbow as I did. It wasn’t an easy thing to do – the lever didn’t have the elaborate pulley system of a modern Earth crossbow to reduce the load – but between necessity and adrenaline, I got it done. I had the crossbow up just as the thing reached the prone bodies.

It suddenly stopped, sniffing the air, then lashed out, grabbing the closest body and hauling it to its mouth. I won’t even try to describe the sound it made as its teeth ripped into the dead undead’s flesh, tearing a chunk out of it, but if I had a weaker stomach, it would have emptied on the spot. As it was, I felt my gorge rise just a bit.

I waited until I was sure it was busy, then flung another bolt into its stomach. The monster screeched and clutched its stomach, a difficult task since its hands were attached to the torn corpse of another of its kind. In that moment, I charged forward with the war axe and cracked its elbow. It tried to respond, but with its broken arm, it couldn’t free itself from its prize, and my axe slaughtered it where it stood.

I looked down at the pile of bodies, then tested the wind once more. The spot would have to do. Taking a deep breath, I took my hatchet and opened a cut along the back of my left forearm, slicing deeply enough to bring forth a rush of bright blood. I clenched my fist and let the blood run down my arm, dribbling off my elbow into the pile of bodies. I let the blood flow for several seconds before I took off my shirt and wrapped it around the wound, binding it as best I could. Then, I scooted and hid behind a nearby tree to wait.

I didn’t have to wait long. Less then five minutes passed before one of the hungering loped into view, screeching hungrily, its nostrils flapping wildly. It reached the bodies and tore into them with fervor, only stopping when my bolt pierced its stomach. It screamed again, clutching the wound, and I rushed out and finished it off before more of them came.

I was glad that I did, because that one was just the tip of the iceberg. A minute later, another of the monsters rushed out to feast on its own kind, and I had barely finished it when the next burst forth. I put that one down, but another was already charging for me, and I only managed to cripple its leg before a fourth one rushed forward, screaming hungrily. I scuttled back, but the newcomer ignored me and lashed out at the wounded creature, who fought back mindlessly. The two tore at one another and didn’t stop when another of the beasts raced forth and joined the melee.

I watched in amazement before realizing what was happening. These things had more in common with sharks than just their teeth. The scent of my blood must have driven them into a frenzy, and they attacked anything that was wounded, even each other. I hung back and used bolts to weaken the creatures, stepping in and wounding them when it was safe to do so.

The next two hours passed in a haze of blood and battle. Once I had a huge pile of writhing, wounded but still kicking creatures in that spot, I moved a quarter mile or so away and reopened my wound, dribbling blood into the carpet of needles and smearing it on the trees nearby. Within minutes, the first of the creatures arrived. My crossbow bolt ripped through its stomach at a distance of only fifteen feet, and my war axe sheared through its ankle, hobbling it and leaving it crawling on the forest floor when the next monster arrived. That one attacked its fallen brother – or whatever, since it didn’t have any noticeable gender. I waited until it was busily biting off hunks of the wounded monster’s flesh before I put a bolt in its stomach, too, and crippled it a moment later.

As the minutes passed, though, the creatures rushed the ambush site with increasing numbers – and ferocity. Some of them started ignoring their wounded comrades and rushed directly for me, and I was forced to slowly give up ground, crippling the creatures rather than killing them. They kept lashing out at one another, but with their increasing numbers, they pressed closer and closer against me. I moved swiftly, retreating through the trees, lashing out with axe and crossbow to wound and cripple where I could, but their numbers surged toward me relentlessly.

The deathly cold pressed at me, even though the creatures weren’t touching me, and I had to spare part of my focus to holding it at bay. The chill battered inexorably at me, though, slowing my reactions. Claws caught my flesh, and I hacked them free; teeth snapped inches from my skin; massive blows battered my arms, nearly sending me sprawling.

Still, I fought on, retreating constantly, fighting a withdrawal aimed at incapacitating the undead rather than slaughtering them. Most of them died anyway, falling to the claws and teeth of their own kind. It didn’t need to be my hands doing the deed, so long as the things fell. I kicked a hungering back, raced back several steps, and reached in my quiver for another bolt.

Empty. I was out of bolts. I made up my mind at that point; it was time to get back to the village. I’d delayed these things as long as I could. My arms trembled with weariness; my back ached; my head pounded. Soon, I’d be overrun.

“Sara, which way?” I thought as I retreated from the creatures.

“This way, John,” she said quietly, flashing an arrow in my vision – one that pointed directly toward a large group of hungering racing my way.

“Of course, it is,” I sighed, grabbing my axe and pushing aside my weariness. “Well, here goes nothing, then.”