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:: As the image came up on the viewing screen, Hoshi gasped, eyes widening, one hand flying to her mouth. ::
The creature looked like a huge humanoid with a head like a squid and tentacles for arms. It held the young girl fast against the dead tree, wrists and ankles pinned, a tentacle over her mouth to muffle her screams as its face drew closer. Terror widened young Hoshi’s eyes and she struggled as its jaw unhinged, revealing teeth as long as her hand. A slimy tongue emerged and licked her cheek as if tasting, before the mouth widened, ready to rip and tear and bite.
And then a cry of rage sounded from behind it. The tentacles holding her down suddenly whipped away as a blue-tinged blade emerged from its chest. Behind it stood a teenaged Malcolm, rage contorting his face as he stabbed again with his sword, slicing down the creature’s spine before hacking at its neck.
Hoshi had fallen to the ground, panting as she drew breath into her oxygen-starved lungs. But now she leaped to her feet, screaming Malcolm’s name.
“Come on! We have to go!”
He yanked the sword from the monster’s body, turned, and ran behind the girl as he re-sheathed it on his back, slowing his strides so he wouldn’t overtake her. She ran for the Arch as though the devil was behind her - and it might as well have been.
Some sixth sense made the teenager reach out and grab Hoshi to him, dropping to his knees and sliding through the dead leaves as a tentacle whipped out over their heads. He saw a nearby ditch and rolled, holding Hoshi tightly as they dropped into the gully with him on the bottom to break her fall, releasing her so they could frantically crawl into a nearby cave mouth.
Large rocks were scattered around the cave; he pulled her to the largest to hide behind it, lying down beside her in the nick of time as a tentacle burst through the entrance. It stopped, seeming to sniff the air, then began to make its way slowly around the room.
:: The adults watched in horror as the tentacle stalked the youngsters, wanting to scream out a warning even though they knew it was futile. Hoshi reached out blindly and Malcolm took her hand, holding on tightly as their on-screen counterparts hid. ::
Malcolm felt Hoshi draw a breath and immediately clapped his hand over her mouth, pulling her back tightly against himself, not daring to make a sound. He shook his head fiercely against Hoshi’s, willing her to stay silent; her small hands came up to grab his wrist, but she didn’t pull, just held on, her fingers tightening in terror as the tentacle waved in the air above them for long moments before withdrawing.
Malcolm didn’t let go. He waited a long two minutes before slowly releasing her mouth and loosening his grip on her. “I think—” he whispered. That was as far as he got before the tentacle shot over the top of the rock, grabbed him, and threw him across the cave. As it turned its attention to Hoshi, backing her against the wall, Malcolm rolled, drawing his sword even as he came upright. He attacked with a roar, slashing at the tentacle in a fury, dodging its strikes, cutting off bits with every stroke.
But the space was confined, and there wasn’t much room to move. All it took was one stumble on a loose stone, and the tentacle had smashed into him, hurtling him across the cave to slam into the wall, driving the air from his lungs. He’d dropped the sword as the tentacle had hit him and lay virtually defenceless, wheezing in agony as it raised above him triumphantly, sharpening its front end into a lethal point. Malcolm stared up defiantly, somehow drawing his dagger but struggling to wield it; he couldn’t move properly, but he’d be damned if he went out whimpering. The tentacle stabbed downward.
And then a screaming hellcat was in front of him, slicing the end off the tentacle. It shrieked in agony - how can a tentacle make a sound? - and withdrew slightly as if to lick its wounds. Young and small as she was, Hoshi stood before Malcolm, glowing blue sword held in both hands, teeth bared.
“You get away from him!”
The tentacle seemed to shake in fury. Then it attacked, whipping forward as though to sweep the girl aside. If it had landed, the blow would have sent her spinning across the cave, much as it had done to Malcolm.
But what it landed against was the sharp edge of the sword, as Hoshi lifted it and blocked. The tentacle was split up the middle, shrieking in agony as it withdrew. This time, though, it wasn’t left to retreat in peace.
Malcolm watched in awe as the child attacked, screaming and slashing frenziedly, slicing the tentacle to bits piece by piece, every blow taking off another section. Her eyes were wild as she swung and cut and drove it back, back, back, seemingly unable to stop herself. With one powerful blow, she hacked off a piece of tentacle that was nearly as big as she was, and that seemed to be the last straw as the tentacle fled, emitting unearthly howling noises.
But Hoshi was no longer paying attention. Bellowing in rage, she attacked the piece of tentacle that writhed on the floor before her, slamming the sword down into its fleshy, obscenely slimy form, seemingly in such a berserk fury that she had lost all sense of where she was.
:: All the adults were frozen in astonishment. Malcolm couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen as the child defended his teenage self. Hoshi watched, wide-eyed, but anyone looking at her would have seen no surprise on her face. ::
And then a hand landed on the girl’s shoulder and she whirled, ready to attack. But a large hand grabbed both of hers, holding the sword still; young Malcolm stood beside her, his hand still on her shoulder, as he gently pried the blade from her shaking grip.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s gone now. You can let go.” For a long moment she stared into his eyes, her own frantic, her chest heaving with sobs of exertion and a mixture of terror, ferocity, and blind rage. Then he had to quickly twist the sword out of the way and drop into a crouch as the youngster hurled herself into his arms, weeping with delayed reaction. And no wonder; she was only twelve and had already faced enough horrors for a lifetime. He was six years older, and knew he would never forget what they had seen or fought.
He stayed kneeling for a long while, holding her as she cried into his shoulder, soothing her with gentle pats to her back, murmuring comfort and praise until finally she quieted, but didn’t lift her head.
“I thought you were dead,” she murmured, the occasional sob still bursting from her throat.
“I was about to be,” he said quietly. “But you saved me, Hoshi, you stepped in front of me and saved me. I’m alive because of you.”
Finally she stood back, wiping at her wet cheeks with the heels of her hands, sniffling. Malcolm pulled a clean handkerchief from one pocket and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose before stuffing the handkerchief into her pocket.
“I’m glad you’re alive.” Her voice was wobbly, but determined.
Malcolm smiled. “So am I.” He finally stood, the sword back in its place on his back. “Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes,” she said fervently. He held out his left hand and she slid hers into it.
“Then let’s go. We’ll look out for each other, yeah?”
Finally she looked up and gave a genuine smile. “Yes. Yes, we will.”
They walked out of the cave together, leaving behind the blood and stench, heading into the sunlight. Making their way toward the Arch, at each other’s sides, determined to protect and defend.
:: Adult Hoshi tightened her grip on Malcolm’s hand, and he moved closer, looking down at her with something like reverence.
“Thank goodness you have a temper,” he said softly, and she finally exhaled and grinned up at him.
“And that you’re always a protector.”
He crouched beside her seat and she leaned against his shoulder.
“Good thing we seem to look out for each other more often than not.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “And for the others, too.”
“That’s for sure.” ::