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89.
“Siiiirrkk!”
Alex opened his eyes and froze.
He heard that voice again, nearby, unmistakable: “Siiiirrkk!”
Nizin! Alex gripped the knife Tzoofaa had given him, and gradually raised his face. He lifted one fingertip and picked leaves away, one by one, an inch at a time, until his field of vision increased.
It was New Light. He must have fallen into an exhausted sleep. Heart pounding, he felt the muzziness of sleep driven away as he heard Nizin’s oratory of self-praise nearby.
There. The Siirk stood over a dead animal—one of the dog-things that had engaged in a snarling contest with its slavering fellow dog-thing the night before. Nizin finished congratulating himself on his kill and squatted down with a knife upraised to begin preparing his meal.
Alex moved with glacial slowness. He pulled his bow close and strung it. He pulled the special arrow from his quiver and laid it on the bow. He shifted his body around into aiming position, grimacing at his stiffness and the aches he felt.
Meanwhile, Nizin cradled the animal in his arms and extracted from its head what he needed. Once or twice he paused, strangely, as if contemplating what lay between his arms.
Alex held the bow laterally, a foot above the ground. He laid the arrow on it and started to aim.
Nizin paused again, looking slightly to one side.
Alex found he could not aim well this way. He needed the bow to be as vertical as possible. He rose slowly, turning the bow as he did so.
Nizin shifted suddenly where he sat.
Alex rose like a shadow, aiming the arrow that had killed Maryan.
Nizin was faster. He whirled, producing a bow he must have hidden somehow.
Alex was almost at the point of loosing the arrow. Too late he saw the thing Nizin had held was not a dead animal but a hide with a dog-like head attached. Under the hide he had concealed his weapons, and now he rose, spinning, and let loose an arrow at Alex.
Alex sent his arrow flying, but it was too late. In the second after the arrow flew, Nizin side-stepped and disappeared into a nearby cleft in a hill, covered by bushes. In that same second, Nizin’s arrow struck Alex in the shoulder.
The arrow tore Alex’s skin, bruised his exposed shoulder bone, and glanced off. Pain seared through Alex like fire, and he staggered, grasping his shoulder.
Nizin popped up on a tall boulder about 500 feet away cackling. His eyes and teeth glittered manically. “Siiiirrrrk!” he groaned loudly with pleasure and triumph. “Siiiirrrkkk!” He rubbed his belly and laughed. The forest echoed with his voice.
Alex shook his head, for his vision was blurred with shock. He looked to his right and lifted his bloody hand from his shoulder. He saw the white bone there, the torn muscles, flecks of loose body fat lying in yellowish and white streaks mingled with blood in the wound.
“Ha ha ha!” Nizin’s laugh echoed.
Alex staggered back and leaned against a tree. His vision was blurry, but he heard as Nizin laughed again. Nizin hopped off the boulder and disappeared into the brush.
Alex’s shoulder throbbed, and he grimaced with pain each time he moved. What was worse, it smelled bad. Alarmed, Alex retrieved the arrow and sniffed it. He made a face while his stomach contracted in horror. Nizin had rubbed it in feces—probably Siirk feces to add a special insult.
Holding the dagger to his side, Alex made his way down to the water. He threw himself into the water and frantically started wiping the wound with wet silt. Probably filled with all sorts of bugs, he thought, but nothing could be so damaging as Siirk shyte in an open wound. As he washed himself, he sobbed with pain. The stuff burned like acid. He knew Nizin could probably kill him now, but Nizin didn’t. Probably wanted to toy with Alex. Nizin would probably let Alex get sick from infection, then hunt him down, slowly and cruelly torturing him, making his end as prolonged and dreadful as possible.
Ducking under the water, Alex again experienced its coolness and soothing nature. It was nothing like the healing magic of the cave water back on Earth, but it relieved a tiny bit of the fire aching on his shoulder. Luckily, the wound wasn’t in the joint, just in the thin flesh and musculature atop the joint where the arm met the shoulder. Still, even with the feces washed out, there was little hope of avoiding infection. Return to the village? Not a chance—it would bring the curse of this rogue Siirk down on them. He’d chosen his fate, the villagers had warned him of the consequences. Now he must live with them. Alex decided he must have no regrets, no matter what. He had enjoyed life, and had been blessed with a fine woman. Now the game was just about done, in this colossal joke life had played by bringing him into the world a million years after mankind had become extinct. Now the only recourse was to fade from the scene with dignity and pride.
Alex sloshed noisily out of the water, hoping to br ing Nizin back for a final fight while Alex still had the strength.
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