Artyom Dereschuk - Hate the Sin

The boy kept his mouth shut regarding the whereabouts of the attacker; whoever he was, even if he was after Tsetse too, as long as he was trying to kill the General, Tsetse wouldn’t get in his way.

“There!” Billy the Man-Eater screamed, pointing at the top of the slope, and Tsetse almost let out a sigh of disappointment. He had forgotten how loyal and dumb some of the kids could be.

Finding their target, the soldiers instantly turned their weapons in that direction and started shooting. Tsetse didn’t bother to pretend to follow their example, instead circling around the platform in the middle of the arena to assume a position better fit for what he had in mind.

But as soon as he found a spot behind the platform where he would be protected from the incoming fire, the last bullet hit the generator, putting the ancient struggling machine out of its misery and making the arena marginally darker.

The boy silently cursed and kneeled, hiding from the others. He needed time to readjust to the darkness, and he didn’t want the soldiers or the General to suspect him of anything.

“Do you think we got him?” he heard one of the soldiers ask.

“Why don’t you go up there and check?” the General sarcastically replied. After a few seconds, the man must’ve come to a conclusion that it wasn’t such a bad idea, because he added: “Go! We’ll cover you from here!”

“Alright… C’mere,” Tsetse heard the soldier tell someone. Carefully taking a peek, Tsetse saw the soldier grab Exterminator by the hand and push the kid in front of him to lead the way. After that, he hid behind the kid’s back, lowering his head, and started pushing him up the stairs, carefully taking a peek to see if there was any movement up on the slope.

The kid was most likely a goner, and Tsetse realized that the only way to save him would be to abandon his goal of killing the General for now and keep a close eye on the unknown assailant. If he could shoot him down before he had a chance to strike, Exterminator would live.

The soldier and the boy had reached almost the very top of the slope, and Exterminator tried to keep his head low so that it wouldn’t peek out, but the soldier grabbed him by the nape and made him look straight into the darkness.

“I… I think he’s dead!” the boy shouted for everyone to hear. “He has a wound on his neck! It’s… It’s one of the kids!”

If he was shot in the neck, then how did he manage to land a shot on the generator after that? Tsetse thought, and in that short moment of distraction something lunged out of the shadows onto the boy and the soldier—a small figure of a boy, no older than thirteen years old. Tsetse recognized that outline ad those brown breeches—it was Corpse Eater.

He also spotted an orange cloth wrapped around his waistline. Was that Homewrecker’s T-Shirt that the captain hated so much?

Corpse Eater tackled both the soldier and Exterminator, pushing them down the stairs. Tsetse expected them to land on the step below, yet the three of them flew past a few more, carried by the impact of Corpse Eater’s jump, before landing onto hard stone.

Corpse Eater managed to land on his feet and even grabbed Exterminator by the collar before the boy’s head hit the solid surface below. The soldier was less lucky—Tsetse could hear the bone crack as it hit the stone.

Quickly, before the dazed soldier had any chance to recover, Corpse Eater let go of the other boy and grabbed the soldier’s head. In one move, he squashed it as easily as if it was a rotten melon.

Bullets swirled through the air, breaking off small chunks from the stone where they hit it, and Corpse Eater took a step to the side, covering Exterminator. A few bullets hit his torso but, miraculously, the boy wasn’t fazed. Tsetse realized where he had seen that before.

Somehow, Corpse Eater had acquired the powers of the Blood of the Giants. It was the only explanation Tsetse could see. Perhaps when the boy had run away he had reached the Bedchamber before them?

“Damn it,” Tsetse heard the soldier next to him swear as he started reloading. His hands were shaking and his movements weren’t refined. He couldn’t get the clip to go inside the gun.

Tsetse realized that his time had come.

He planned to shoot up the rest of the soldiers, and save the last bullet for the General. He was worse than the disease he was named after, and the boy had the cure. Thirty ampoules of it—he reckoned it would be enough to eradicate the disease and vaccinate the sick.

His eyes could see well enough. He stood up, leaned on the platform to get steady, and opened fire on the soldiers.

He managed to hit three of them before the rest realized what had happened and hid behind the platform. The old man was left on his own, and without instructions he seemed lost, not even caring to take cover.

Tsetse wasn’t worried; their numbers were low enough that he could keep an eye on all of them, and with Corpse Eater’s help he could get them from the flanks.

Only, Corpse Eater wasn’t shooting at them anymore. Whether he was out of bullets or it was the Blood of the Giants calling to him, the boy had decided to take a more straightforward approach. Just like the villagers, he wanted to feel the blood squirt onto him from wounds he inflicted, so he rushed at the cornered soldiers, pulling out a machete from behind his belt.

More shots followed, and Corpse Eater tried his best to avoid them or duck under their path, but just like the villagers he wasn’t faster than a bullet. They tore into him, wounds opening up like red flowers on him, their jagged petals noticeable even in the twilight of the cave, and Tsetse distinctly saw the shadowy flight of a gush of blood when one of the rounds hit the boy in the bone cheek.

But the boy didn’t stop. Too much life was flowing through him to allow that—alien life, life of the giants behind his prey. And all that life force, all that vitality, was coursing toward one single goal—the abrupt and violent end of the lives in front of him.

When another one of the soldiers carelessly stood up while backing away, intimidated by Corpse Eater’s approach, Tsetse quickly capitalized on his mistake and blew his brains out with a single bullet. He reckoned that after his earlier outburst he had at least four or five bullets left. If he used them wisely, they could become four or five lives on his conscience. And the lives in question were a burden light enough for the boy to accept.

Corpse Eater reached the platform and lunged over it in one great leap. The momentum of his rush carried him forward, and in one second he cleaved the head of one of the soldiers off. Another one opened fire at a point-blank range, and for the first time since his arrival Corpse Eater staggered. The boy took a deep breath and Tsetse could hear the whistling sound of air escaping his pierced lungs through new holes.

For a moment, Tsetse thought that Corpse Eater’s durability had reached its limit. Tough as they had been, the villagers had nevertheless all been defeated by firepower. But after a second or two, Corpse Eater regained his senses and grabbed the gun by the barrel, pointing it away from himself, and then shoved his other hand into the man’s mouth.

His tiny arm, thin and frail compared to the adult’s arm, went in till the middle of the forearm. Tsetse could make out individual fingers moving under the man’s skin, protruding out of his neck. Without a doubt, his throat was torn to shreds, and if the man could take a breath he’d be trying to cough out blood that was gushing down into his lungs.

Using the man’s body as a shield, Corpse Eater headed toward the General and the remaining two soldiers. Tsetse couldn’t see them behind the platform, but he heard only one gun firing—the other two were either reloading or too paralyzed with fear to do anything about the boy’s approach.