Hard To Be Worse
January 12, 2015
Jack coughed out the dust caking his mouth and struggled to sit up. His body felt twisted and torn and he almost quit before getting to his hands and knees. Looking around did little to help. It appeared he had made it back where he had started this mess. He was into the middle of the endless desert of gravel that Mythcul had called The Flat Death.
Never had he been in worse shape both inside and out. The Ripperkah, under the rule of another damn Vile Darken, had tortured him to the edge of death several times, having him use nearly all his mystic strength just to stay on this side of breathing. He had kept a small amount hidden from them and he used this to heal himself as much as he could.
It proved enough to allow him to get to his feet. He could see nothing in any direction.
He wore little but the last tatters of his jeans. Gone were his boots and anything close to a weapon. But to be without water and food might have been the hardest blow. He had to face it. He’d lost the battle with Vile Darken on his world twice and now he’d lost to this world’s version of that dark beast.
Even shifting his feet hurt as the gravel dug into his arches. How the hell am I going to have any chance walking through this crap without any boots? Son of a…
Then he thought of something. How had he gotten here? He’d been about to be tortured by Vile himself, when he had vanished and reappeared here. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. Someone must have aided me. That Tez girl, but how could she have such impressive powers. Wait, Devo can teleport and he is a follower of Tezcatlipoca.
A roar thundered over the plains. His body went rigid. Something must have caught his scent and it sounded like something huge. Within seconds another roar came and Jack could spy a dark shape hurling itself toward him. From what he could see, he had to figure it was another T-Rex or something close enough to it to not really matter too much to a weaponless man trapped in the open.
No use to even try to run. I could become a snake, but the thing could still sniff me out or crush me without trying. Still some chance is better than no…
The loud screech of a bird interrupted is thoughts. It was an eagle. During its next circle he saw the curved beak and bright green plumage. “Hey, buddy,” he cried out to the swamp eagle that brought him down from the mountains.
Another roar let him know they might only have seconds left. He looked over his shoulder and saw the dinosaur was closer than he’d thought. “I hope you’re thinking what I’m thinking,” Jack said. “We’re only going to get one chance at this.”
Dropping to the ground, Jack transformed into a Green Mamba. The dinosaur’s next roar sprayed thick strings of saliva, which splashed the ground around Jack’s serpentine form. As a snake, the dinosaur’s footfalls felt like the world was being torn apart. Jaws big enough to shallow an SUV reached down for him.
Seconds before they closed, the eagle swooped down and spirited Jack away. Now he just had to hope the eagle knew where it was supposed to be going.
To be continued next Monday