I inch on hands and knees toward the back of the house, my hope now focused on the orc being gone. He has little reason to come to the house, especially dragging a dead body, right?
I squeeze my eyes shut, the darkness behind my lids resetting my vision. When the lingering darts of pain subside, I open them and slide up the wall, shooting a look out the sliding door.
Straight ahead, nothing.
Left, then right. Nothing. Nothing.
No orc.Thank you, Jesus.I make prayer hands toward the ceiling, then grip the handle of the glass sliding door andtug.
Clunk.
I flip the lock and tug harder.
Clunk.I flip the latch the other way.Clunk. It’s stuck.
A deafening boom and the splintering of wood explodes from the front of the house, followed by laughter and gruff chatter.
“Fan out.”A gritty voice above the others speeds my heart and sweat breaks out over my forehead. “Go upstairs, downstairs, go through everything. Destroy it if it’s not valuable to us. We’ll have a nice bonfire when we’re done.Go!”
Another pull. Anotherclunk. Why won’t this fucking door open?
Voices and footsteps are louder and clearer.Closer, closer.
I dare lean forward and catch a glimpse of some of the men coming through the front door. One stands in the foyer directing the others. He’s bald, with an eye patch, wearing a Judicial Enforcement badge. It’s no secret the JE is just a hand puppet for the Neo-Human Coalition, but politics and corruption are decidedly not my problem these days.
I look down and see the metal security rod in the track of the sliding door. In one swift motion, I lift it out, easing it onto the stone floor of the kitchen, giving the door one last shove.
It slides open and relief washes through me but it doesn’t last. The metal rod rolls across the floor, making a clear metallicyip, yip, yipsound on the slate, then clinks against the backs of the highchairs.
“What was that?”
“Fuckingcheckit. You two, with me.”
I bolt out the open slider, my feet smacking against the wooden deck boards, balling it out of there like my ass is on fire.
My pulse bangs against my eardrums, lungs burning as I take my first step, then…
Heat explodes over my skin. The tangy scent of sweat and blood mixes with the dewy evening air as I stare into the green, snorting wall of orc flesh in front of me.
He’s blocking my exit, lower tusks pressing into thick lips, greenish skin highlighted by the sunset behind. The heat of his body and his breath radiates all the way to where I stand, six feet away. He towers over the railing, hands in fists, chest laced with deep ragged scars.
But, the body he was dragging is gone and for just a second, I wonder if that works in my favor or not.
He’s a primitive. No cell phones, three-piece suits or Harleys for his one. He’s seven feet plus. His muscles turn to concrete under his sage-colored flesh but something else flickers in his red eyes.
A flutter passes through the fear knotted inside me. A flash of surprise moves over his harsh features. The jutting forehead tightens, square jaw flexing. He studies me for a just a second, but it feels like forever. Leather straps with metal adornments criss-cross the thickness of his square pectoral muscles, the leather kilt looks worn and mended from what I assume are battles fought here on earth as well as back on Iriaza.
I’m frozen in place by his deep-set reddish eyes, then startle and shoot a glance over my shoulder as three of the Coalition emerge through the open glass door.
I’m in the worst sort of oh-shit-sandwich. Panic floods my system as I turn away from the orc. I reach into the side pocket of my pants, the wooden handle smooth as I tug it out, securing my grip then jamming it forward toward the closest coalition raider in one desperate motion.
I’ve got a better shot at fighting my way through the three humans than trying to take on an orc. I’ve never seen one show fear and my little knife wouldn’t inflict much damage even if I got in a good shot.
“Back,” I say, sidestepping toward the deck railing, thinking if I throw myself sideways and tumble over into the grass, I’ll be golden. I’m fast. I keep up my cardio just for these unfortunate situations. Let the orc and the humans face off as I sprint toward my motorcycle.
The men laugh and step forward, the one in the front has half his face covered in crude deep indigo tattoos and unfortunately, he’s smiling showing the glory of his teeth rotted black down to the gum. His eyes are tattooed as well, solid black. Creepy as fuck. His chuckle turns my stomach sour as I will all my strength into my legs and lunge to my left on a grunt.
The rail is three feet away, if I can just hit it with my chest, I’ll pull myself over and fall the six feet or so to the ground.