Bastian's Storm

Chapter Thirteen

Gauging the area between the closest helicopter drop-off and the most logical way up the mountain from that point, I made a beeline directly across the lower face of Mount Windsor until I found what I was looking for—slight depressions in the snow. Even with the wind quickly covering the impressions, I could see the outline of footprints. They were smaller than mine, and I guessed they belonged to either Erik or Reaper. I gazed up the mountainside, but I couldn’t see anyone.

Looping one of the pieces of piano wire around my gloved and mittened fingers, I adjusted my goggles and followed the tracks silently as the frozen wind whipped around my face, keeping close to the tall ridge on my left. It didn’t take long to catch up to the owner of the footprints, and even less effort to actually locate her. Reaper wasn’t exactly stealthy about her battles.

I could hear loud scuffling and grunting as I approached. Staying crouched, I maneuvered myself off to the side to get a good view of what was going on without being seen. As I got close enough to see through my goggles, I witnessed Tyrone swinging in a wide arc with a crowbar at Reaper. He towered over her form, but she ducked away from his swing and rolled to the side.

She was quick and agile, moving around him in fast steps as he tried to make contact with her. Tyrone moved from left to right as he swung the crowbar at her, but he missed every time. Reaper danced away, laughing as he missed again.

“You suck!” she called out though Tyrone refused to acknowledge her verbal taunts. He only glared and took a stance in front of her. “You think you’re fighting with your boyfriend? I bet my dick’s bigger than yours!”

I checked behind me and then up higher. I couldn’t see any forms or movement, and I was fairly sure Arden wouldn’t have had enough time to reach the mountain peak to fire down on me just yet. I figured I was still a good two and a half miles from the top, and even with his fancy sniper rifle, I’d still be out of range.

Unless he went for another tactic.

I heard a loud grunt and looked back to see Tyrone take a hit from Reaper’s brass knuckles as she yelled out in glee. Blood spewed over the ice from the bottom of Tyrone’s facemask. A moment later, Reaper was on top of him, pounding her fist into his face. He brought his hands up to her arms, trying to hold her off, but the chick was a lot stronger than she looked. He managed to pull them both into a roll, but she still came out on top.

Her fist slammed into his trachea, and he sat part way up with a jolt. He dropped his hands from her arms and clawed at his collapsed windpipe. Reaper jumped off of him and stood her ground, fists up and ready. Tyrone clutched at his throat, rolled to his hands and knees, and started crawling away from her.

Bad move.

Reaper was on his back in a second, slamming her metal knuckles into the back of his head over and over again until he collapsed with his arms splayed out on the cold ground. She didn’t stop but kept pounding his skull.

“Yeah! Take that, bitch!” Reaper cried out.

Her victory was short-lived.

With all the noise she was making, anyone on the island could have heard her. By now, she’d led everyone to her position. From way off to her right—the farthest point from me—a crossbow bolt flew through the air and slammed into her shoulder.

Enraged, Reaper turned toward the direction of the bolt and ran several feet. She didn’t even bother to try to remove the bolt as she dropped to the ground and rolled. Another bolt whizzed over her head and slammed into the ice a few feet away from me.

Never one to turn down an extra weapon, I grabbed the bolt out of the ice and headed up the ridge to get a better view of the fight. It took a few minutes to reach a place I could scale over—the mountain cliff was sheerer at this location—and I had to be careful about my steps to keep from falling down the outside of the ledge. I wouldn’t fall very far, but the landing would be a rough one. The sounds of the fight were louder here and coming from slightly below me. Harsh voices and the sound of scuffling brought me to the very edge where I looked down and saw Hunter and Reaper hard at it.

I settled back a bit, lodging myself partially between two rocks for protection from above and from the sides. If Hunter or Reaper looked up, they would have been able to spot me, but they were far too intent on killing each other. My vantage point allowed me to look directly down at the battle. As soon as one of them killed the other, I could jump in and finish it before the winner had a chance to recover.

“Why don’t you just put that down and let me give ya a little of what you got last night?” Reaper danced around, her eyes wide open and wild.

“I figure once you’re a piece of meat in the fucking dirt,” Hunter snapped back, “I can fuck you in whatever hole still works!”

I could see the handgun shoved into a holster at his side, but he never went for it. As I looked closer, I realized why.

His right hand was completely exposed. I could see his crossbow lying a few feet away, broken in several pieces with the bolts scattered across the ground, and a lone glove lying near it. Without something covering his skin, the metal on the gun would instantly freeze to his hand if he touched it. Even if he won this battle, his fingers would be frostbitten before he could retrieve the glove. He must have removed his gloves to improve his aim with the crossbow.

Reaper continued to taunt him, and he just smiled and gave it right back to her. I wasn’t sure if he was oblivious to the danger of exposed skin or just too high on the fight to give a shit. Hunter definitely seemed overconfident in his own combat abilities, which was fucking stupid. Even from where I was, I could tell Reaper was faster and deadlier than he, even if he had a good foot and a half on her in height.

Never fuck someone you plan to kill.

Reaper had the advantage of agility. She connected several blows to Hunter’s head as she advanced on him. Each time he tried to hit her back, she ducked out of his way and hit him in the kidney.

He was losing, but he still didn’t go for the gun. I probably would have, skin be damned, but he either didn’t realize she had him, or he had just discounted the weapon altogether.

Reaper landed a fantastic blow to Hunter’s face, and he stumbled backward, fell on his ass, and started to roll down the incline to the ledge below. He reached out with his bare fingers and grabbed at the edge of the rock, finally stopping his descent just as he was about to go over. He hung somewhat precariously, grasping at the rock and kicking with his feet to get a better grip. Reaper poised herself just above him, taunting the giant of a man.

“Is that all you got?” she sneered. “I thought a man like you was going to give me some kind of challenge! You couldn’t even give me a fucking orgasm!”

“Bitch!” Hunter growled as his hand began to slip. “I’ll give your ass a good pounding!”

She slammed her metal knuckles into his fingers. He lost his grip and started sliding down the rock again, barely keeping his balance on the lower ledge. He crouched and allowed himself to drop, managing to fall only a few feet before he found a place for his boots on the ledge below. Scuttling off to the side, he hoisted himself up a few yards away from Reaper and began to run up the side of the ridge, passing the area where I was hidden.

I got up on the balls of my feet, my heart beating in anticipation.

“I thought you wanted to play, asshole!” Reaper yelled as Hunter disappeared into the rocky landscape behind me. She started to head after him, but as she got a little closer to me, I decided now was as good a time as any to take her out.

I jumped from the top of the rock and landed on her back, sending us both to the ground. As we began to roll down the side of the mountain, I flipped the piano wire over her head and around her shoulders. With a quick jerk, the wire lodged under her chin.

I wasn’t quite cutting off her airway, and Reaper leaned against me, struggling to get her head out from around the wire. Though I couldn’t seem to get it positioned right to strangle her, she couldn’t get it off either, so she began to punch upward toward my face, hitting the side of my head. My ear rang with the blow, but my grip didn’t falter.

That’s when she went for the oldest trick in the book.

Oldest because of how effective it was.

She dropped one shoulder, brought her arm up, and slammed her elbow into my balls.

Not even Kevlar can stop that shit.

“Motherfucker!” I cried out as I tried to keep myself from doubling over.

Even through the thick clothing covering my body, the impact of her elbow in my crotch was enough to make my stomach clench and for a wave of nausea to wash over me. It was also enough to make me lose my grip on the wire completely. Reaper ducked out of it, turned partway to the side, and clipped me in the jaw with those fucking brass knuckles.

I stumbled backward but managed to grab her arm and take her with me. We tripped a couple of times before both of us fell to our knees, fighting for control over each other’s blows. I grabbed at the crossbow bolt still in her shoulder and twisted it, causing her to scream in pain. Apparently, that just pissed her off because she managed another hard hit to my shoulder.

Damn, that woman could throw a punch!

Forgoing the wire altogether, I let it drop to the ground as I went at her again, grasping the bolt in her shoulder as I wrapped my arm around her throat. She bucked against me, and my hand lost its grip from the bolt’s shaft, but the other arm stayed in place. I tightened my grip around her neck as I coiled my other arm around her head. My position was perfect, and all I had to do was twist to break her neck, but I didn’t get the chance.

I heard the shot ring out, and had no doubt from whose gun it originated. I braced myself for the impact of the bullet, and when the impact came, I was momentarily stunned. The pain wasn’t that of a bullet wound though, rather that of simple blunt force. Instead of feeling an exit wound in my own back, Reaper went limp in my arms.

Thank Landon for Kevlar.

I dropped to the ground and rolled, bringing her on top of me just as another shot rang out, making her torso jump in my grasp. Glancing down her form, I saw a pair of bullet holes in her body—one in the center of her chest, the other slightly below. Beyond her feet, I could see a rocky cliff jutting out from the mountainside just a couple hundred yards away. Right at the edge was Arden, tossing his sniper rifle to the ground as he reached up over his shoulder and brought the assault rifle around and pointed it in my direction.

“Fuck!”

Blasts ricocheted off the ground around my feet and up the side of Reaper’s body as I ducked my head beneath her shoulder. A line of bullet holes ripped their way through the thick layer of clothing up Reaper’s leg, and I felt a searing pain in my thigh.

Cursing, I rolled again, hauling her body along with me for cover, until I could get myself upright and back behind the rocks. Out of Arden’s line of sight, I quickly evaluated my leg and determined it had only been grazed. I paused and remained as silent as possible as the echoing blasts of gunfire faded around the cliffs.

Listening closely, I tried to make out any sound of footsteps coming closer to me. I heard nothing, so I dropped Reaper’s body, knelt down to remove a set of brass knuckles from her cold fingers, and slipped them into one of the many pockets in my coat. I didn’t intend to use them, but I didn’t want anyone else to have the opportunity to use them against me.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

Since Arden already knew my location, my best chance was heading up, taking away his high-ground advantage, so that’s what I did. Carefully making my way around the rock cliff, I stayed low and went as quickly as I could up the mountainside. As soon as I was a little way up, I ran to my right and jumped over the next ridge, then began to slide down. It wasn’t steep at this point, but my leg was throbbing a bit from the exertion, the slight wound making the journey more difficult. It wasn’t bad, just annoying enough to make me want to slow down.

Another shot rang out, but there was no pain and no blast in the ground near me. Either Arden was just trying to freak me out, or he was aiming at someone else. I didn’t figure him for mind games, and I wondered if he’d found another target. That seemed more likely, but I couldn’t be sure of it.

I was tempted to stop my stealthy trek and check out my wounded leg.

I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Aside from Arden, there were still two others out there with bloodshed on their minds—Erik Dytalov and Hunter. If I paused long enough to attend to the bullet scrape, I might as well strangle myself and get it over with because the chances of one of them finding me when I was vulnerable were too great right now. I’d just have to ignore the ache.

Pain is weakness leaving the body.

Push on. Always push on, no matter what you feel.

Get your fucking ass up and move!

Fuck it all. I couldn’t stop because I had to get back to Raine.

A mile or so up Mount Windsor, I finally found a place secure enough to briefly peel back the leggings around my right thigh and take a look at my leg. It wasn’t bad—just a scrape, as I had figured. I cleaned it up a little and got the bleeding to stop before covering myself back up again. The possibility of frostbite was more dangerous at this point than a scratch.

I was covered with Reaper’s blood, and the stench burned my nose as I peeled back the facemask to get myself some water and nutrition. There was only silence around me. From where I was perched in the center of a grouping of rocks, I could see all the way to the ice floes below. Somewhere nearby, there were still three other people out to kill me, but for now, it was quiet. I took the time to center myself, remember my objectives, and concentrate on what I had to do next.

Far below me, a pod of whales surfaced, blew streams of water out their blowholes, and disappeared below the ice again. The giant marine mammals were the only signs of life to be seen in the harsh environment, save a few crusty lichens on the north side of the stones. There weren’t even any trees anywhere on the island.

Franks couldn’t have found a less hospitable place in the world.

It was probably a fitting place for such activity, though. I couldn’t begrudge him that. There was no habitation on the island. There were no settlements of people and very little vegetation to attract any animals. Only those creatures that actually adapted to live in the Arctic Ocean could be found here.

Knowing there were no living creatures around except for the people trying to kill me did nothing for my peace of mind, of course. Every time I heard a rock tumble across the ground, I had to assume one of my opponents was nearby.

I drank from my canteen of frigid water and then pulled a tube of gel packed with vitamins, protein, and carbohydrates out of my pocket. It was supposed to taste like chocolate and peanut butter, but it didn’t. It just tasted nasty, but I downed it anyway along with a handful of high-fat nuts. I hadn’t seen anyone for an hour and was grateful for the break though I still remained on alert. I had heard one additional shot ring out from high up the mountain, but that was twenty minutes ago. There had been nothing else to see or hear since then.

Lack of knowledge was my biggest enemy. I had to locate the other three players before they found me. Their best chance was to catch me off guard, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to keep moving.

The sun was high in the sky but did nothing to warm me as I hauled myself out of the rock cluster and started up the ridge again. I kept low to the ground, watching everywhere around me—especially farther up—for any kind of movement. I walked several hundred yards without seeing anything and then found myself at the bottom of a short cliff. The high ridges on either side of me would have been as difficult to scale as the rocks in front of me, so I decided to climb up to the top.

Climbing was difficult with the mittens over my gloves, but it was a move I’d practiced with Landon a thousand times over the past few weeks. As I hauled myself to the edge of the small plateau and looked all around, my skin tingled. I couldn’t see anyone, but every instinct inside of me told me someone was there. I examined the area, trying to identify the places large enough to hide a person. There were two groups of rocks on the left, a depression in the ground to the right, and another ledge up above.

I considered the options.

If I was in Arden’s sights, he could take me out at any time. That went for most anywhere I could go. Without cover from above, he could take a shot anytime he found me in his crosshairs. To climb farther up the mountainside, I either had to get across the plateau or drop back down to find another way up. I’d waste time and energy—energy I couldn’t spare—if I headed back down again. If one of the others was up here, and I was pretty sure someone was, they were going to try to jump me as I crossed the open area. It would be either Hunter or Erik.

I was fairly certain Hunter wasn’t much on stealth—he relied on his brute strength, which usually worked in a tournament setting. Here, it was wise to be cautious as well as silent. If Hunter was close by, I would have heard him already. That left Erik and his knives, some of which could be thrown. This would be a perfect place for him to plan an ambush. A throwing knife could definitely be deadly at a distance but not when you’re covered in Kevlar.

Knowledge is power, so says Schoolhouse Rock.

I decided to chance it.

My instincts were rarely wrong.

I was halfway across the plateau when the knife lodged in the center of my chest, right up against the Kevlar vest. I glanced at the blade, grabbed the hilt in my hand, and looked up in the direction it pointed as I pulled it out with a smile.

Erik didn’t duck behind the rock fast enough for me not to see him. Wasting no time, I raced in his direction. He must have heard me coming because he stepped out from behind his shelter to throw another knife. Before he even released it from his hand, I could see the panic in his eyes. I was too close, and he knew he’d lost his advantage. The knife that flew from his hand went wide and disappeared over the cliff.

With a grin on my face, I tossed his throwing knife back toward him. I watched him clench his fingers and crouch down to retrieve the blade, looking up at me with incredulity. As he hesitated, I charged.

There was no taunting or banter as Erik and I moved around each other in a circle on top of the plateau. He held the Busse in his left hand and the throwing knife in his right. I didn’t know what was going through his head, but his eyes remained wide and his steps unsteady. For an experienced tournament fighter, he was acting like a newbie. Something had changed since his last fight. He didn’t have the confidence I was expecting.

Good.

When it came to those who were unsure of themselves, the waiting game always worked to my advantage. He tossed the last knife at me, but we were too close for a projectile weapon like that to be effective. Losing it only gave me an additional advantage. He was sloppy and afraid, which made me calmer and surer of myself. He was hoping for me to make a move, but I won on patience. Eventually, he took a step closer to me, jabbing with the Busse.

He was quick but not quick enough.

Stepping to the side, I gripped my fingers around his wrist and stopped the forward motion of the weapon. With a quick spin, I twisted his arm around and brought it to his side, shoving the blade through his parka and inner clothing and into his gut just below his ribcage. As I felt his hand go slack, I pushed the blade sideways, cutting through his abdominal muscles as he screamed in pain.

I let go of the handle and quickly wrapped the piano wire around his neck. Erik moved fast, grasping the wire with his thinly gloved fingers before I could tighten it completely. I slammed my knee into his back near his kidney, and he gasped at the blow. If he hadn’t been suspended from the wire around his neck, he would have fallen to his knees.

With a quick movement, he slammed the back of his head into my face, and we both went down as pain ripped through my jaw. He fell on top of me, but I didn’t let my grip falter. The muscles in my arms strained as he fought against me. His hand was lodged between the wire and his neck, so I couldn’t get the proper grip to strangle him. I could see the wire was cutting him on one side as I pulled harder and harder, but his strength remained enough to try to talk.

“Motherfucker!” He twisted and turned, but I kept my grip on the wire around his neck. Blood oozed from the space between his fingers as the wire cut into his flesh beneath the gloves.

“Give it up,” I said quietly. “It’s over. You’re done.”

He screamed and lurched to dislodge me, but he didn’t have the strength as his blood poured from his side onto the ground. I tightened my grip, further cutting his skin even though I couldn’t quite find purchase against his trachea. As his struggles weakened, so did his voice.

“I have a kid…” he groaned between panting breaths. “A girl…she has…no one…fuck, no…”

I released my grip on the piano wire with my left hand and shoved myself backward with my feet, letting his head drop to the snow as the wire slipped from around his hand and neck. Blood seeped from the area where the wire had entered his skin near his jugular but not in a grand enough stream to make me think I’d severed it. It didn’t matter. The skin exposure from the cut through his clothing and the blood pouring from his stomach were more than enough to kill him.

His words felt like a stab to my own gut.

Erik tried to roll to the side, but he couldn’t manage it. He struggled to pull the knife from his body as I stood a few feet away, watching him bleed to death. I should have stepped in and ended him faster, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. The wounds he had suffered were the end of him. It wasn’t as if there were any emergency medical personnel coming.

He turned his glazed eyes to look up at me, and his mouth opened to form additional words, but nothing intelligible came out. I crouched to keep low to the ground and caught my breath as his blood puddled below him. He choked out a couple more breaths before lying still.

Where’s his daughter?

The thought rumbled through my brain, but I had no way of knowing. I could only hope she was with someone who would care for her because her father wasn’t coming home. It was the price he paid for being a part of this. It was the price any of us could pay.

Not me.

I looked into the dim red light at the top of Dytalov’s goggles, knowing there was a room filled with people watching me right now. They could see my face through his camera and his through mine. If I could have seen them, I would have witnessed the passing of large bundles of cash back and forth as losers forked over their money to the gloating winners.

I glared at the light, wanting to give them all the finger, but I couldn’t do that without removing the mittens. I had to be content with a look. It was only three hours into the game, and half of the players were gone. If I kept up the pace, I could be sleeping with Raine again tonight.

A tiny voice inside of me—one that sounded like Raine—told me I should regret what I had just done. The same voice tried to tell me what I was doing was wrong. I had no argument against it, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel any remorse either.

My resolve was set. At least for now, the blood on my hands was of no consequence.