David Robbins - Capital Run

An hour must have elapsed, possibly longer.

Rikki’s arms were aching, hurting from the sustained strain of being suspended from the coarse rope. Periodically he glanced at Lex, and although she never complained or uttered a moan or other sound it was obvious that she was in extreme agony.

The crowd on the bank had grown until over 200 men and women were now gathered for the event.

But what were they waiting for? Rikki scanned the river for the umpteenth time. What was down there? He had asked Lex once, but all she said in reply was “Slither.” What was this Slither? It must be some sort of creature lurking in the river’s depths. Rikki twisted and gazed at the watchers on the west bank. None of them was anywhere near the dock, which was good. But firearms were in abundant evidence, which was bad.

How could he free himself and Lex and escape before Slither arrived and avoid being shot? “When will Slither show up?” he asked Lexine.

She shook her head, gritting her teeth as a spasm lanced her shoulders.

“Any time,” she said after the pain subsided. “It comes when it feels like it, when it’s hungry.”

“Is it a large animal? Reptile, amphibian, mammal, what?” Rikki inquired.

“I don’t know,” Lex said softly. “It’s not like any other animal I know.”

“A mutant,” Rikki stated. Ever since the war a century before, since the environment had been ravaged by massive dosages of radiation and deadly chemicals and other toxins, the animal life had altered drastically.

The genetic constitution of many forms of wildlife had been radically affected by the radiation and chemicals; mutations had become commonplace. Bizarre carnivorous strains had developed. Giantism had appeared in some species. Although in some areas, such as the inhabited major cities still standing and in the Civilized Zone, the mutants had been ruthlessly exterminated over the years, there wasn’t a solitary place on the continent completely safe from the biological deviates. Or so it was believed. One could crop up anywhere, anytime.

Like now.

There was a rustling and murmuring along the west hank.

Rikki glanced at the assembled mob, noting they were all staring upriver, to the north. He looked in the same direction and spotted a commotion in the water approximately 50 yards away.

“It’s Slither!” Lex cried.

Nothing was visible on the surface of the Mississippi except for an eight-foot wake, a rippling of tiny waves expanding outward as a massive form swam under the water.

“Rikki…” Lex said.

Rikki faced her.

“I’m sorry. So sorry. I wanted to get to know you better,” Lex told him sadly.

“We’re not dead yet,” Rikki reminded her.

Lex looked at the approaching monster. “Not yet,” she said halfheartedly.

“And I’m not quite ready for the higher mansions,” Rikki wryly declared. “So brace yourself.”

“For what?”

“For this,” Rikki said. As surreptitiously as possible, he had been striving to extricate his wrists from the ropes. After an hour of strenuous effort, constantly working his wrists back and forth, back and forth, while pulling downward at the same time, he had succeeded in loosening his right wrist. His arm wasn’t free yet, but the coil of rope around his slim wrist had developed sufficient slack to enable him to escape. His exertion had torn the skin on both his wrists, and there was a crimson coating between the surface of his wrist and the rope. With the sweat from the heat and his prolonged effort, all it would take was one mighty tug and his right wrist would be free, one wrench at the right moment.

That moment was now.

The wake generated by the underwater creature was 40 yards off and closing.

The Leather Knights and others on the west bank were concentrating on the wake.

Rikki bunched his sinewy shoulder muscles and strained, adding his considerable strength to his body weight and the force of gravity. His right wrist slipped clear of the rope, leaving him dangling by his left arm.

Instantly, his lean frame coiled into action. He swung his leg outward, forcing the rope to move, to carry his body out over the water. Even as the swinging motion began, his right hand reached behind his back to the brown pouch in the small of his back, the pouch containing his shuriken and other items. One of those items was his personalized kyoketsu-shogei, a double-edged five-inch knife attached to a lengthy, leather cord. At the other end of the cord was a metal ring. When still a child of ten, Rikki had become an expert with the weapon. The kyoketsu-shogei could be used in several ways: the knife alone could be wielded offensively or defensively; or, while he held the knife, the cord could be whipped around an opponent’s arms or legs, rendering the enemy vulnerable to a slash from the knife; or the ring could be held in one hand and the cord whirled until the precise angle and trajectory were attained and with a flick of the wrist, a straightening of the arm, the knife flashed into an adversary’s body.

The wake was 30 yards from the dock.

Rikki’s sensitive fingers found the kyoketsu-shogei just as he attained the apex of his swing. He whisked it from the pouch, and as he began to sweep downward toward Lexine he slid the two-inch metal ring over his index finger while retaining a precarious grip on the knife with his thumb.

Someone on the west bank spotted the man in black’s maneuver and gave a shout. “Look! What’s he doing?”

The creature was only 20 yards from the dock, and a large, green hump had appeared at the center of the spreading wake.

Rikki tensed as he swung toward Lexine. The next several seconds were critical. If anyone on the west hank thought to open fire, Lex and he would be riddled before he could complete what he had in mind.

The huge thing in the Mississippi River had increased its speed, as if it sensed its prey was making a determined bid for freedom.

Lexine’s green eyes widened in wonder as Rikki closed on her.

Rikki opened his legs and swiveled slightly to the left, wrapping his legs around Lexine’s waist, the impact of his form against hers driving them inward, toward the bank and well clear of the dock.

The creature known as Slither was ten yards from the dock.

Rikki reached up, slashing at Lexine’s rope with his knife. He freed her right wrist in one quick slash, but only partially succeeded in severing the rope on the left wrist before the people clustered on the bank went absolutely wild, cheering and screaming encouragement to the thing in the river.

Rikki glanced over his right shoulder.

A ten-foot-long serpentine neck had emerged from the murky depths.

The face of the mutant was hideous, repulsive beyond belief. Two horny appendages protruded from the head, one on each side. The shape of the head was circular, with a sloping forehead and a slender, bony jaw. Its eyes were smoldering pools of ferocity. A hissing sound filled the humid air as the creature opened its wide mouth, displaying neat rows of tapered teeth. The face also had a bumpy or lumpy appearance, lending a hellish aspect to the monstrosity. The perpetually ravenous abomination closed on its targets with astonishing speed for something so gigantic.

Rikki sliced at the rope securing Lexine’s left wrist again, and this time he was successful. Lexine sagged as the rope parted, and Rikki clamped his legs around her to prevent her from falling into the river. The toll on his own left arm was terrible; her added weight made it seem as if his arm would be torn from its socket. Undaunted by the torment, he looked at the creature.

Slither was almost upon them, the head not more than seven feet away and closing.

“Now.”