Five Days, One Bad Plan

"Don't scream." Bulelani drew the gut-noose from his belt. He squeezed one end and felt the weapon awaken. "We need to ask you some questions, Zola."

Zola lowered her gaze to the gut-noose, then raised it to Bulelani. She approached without hurry.

"A gut-noose." Her voice was amused. "And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

She stepped in front of Bulelani. He raised the gut-noose.

"Take one more step and…" His voice wavered.

Zola's lips curved into a smile. With one finger, she touched a thin growth circling the gut-noose at its center.

"Your weapon still has its safety on, idiot."

With her other hand, she hurled the extractor toward his neck. Bulelani moved backward and the needle plunged into his shoulder, piercing the tissue with an intense smell of rot. The vesicle began pulsing immediately, sucking ferociously.

He brought a hand to his mouth to keep from screaming. The pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt. His bad knee buckled.

Zola was already on him. She shoved him to the ground with a kick to the chest, then turned toward Qaqamba.

"Come on, come at me," he said, raising his fists. "Try calling the guardians and you're a dead woman."

"Call the guardians?" Zola repeated, raising her hands in front of her. Her crimson nails gleamed in the heatfungus's dim light. "Why would I deny myself the fun?"

She reached toward a wall and raked her nails across it. Five deep furrows opened in the tissue, which bled dark fluids. The wall curled erratically, and several spines emerged in response to the pain.

"Oh, shit," Qaqamba said.

Zola pounced on him. Qaqamba grabbed her wrists and began spinning, trying to keep her nails away. The healer thrashed and freed one hand, slashing his arm. Qaqamba's mouth flew open and his lips curled back.

"Don't scream!" Bulelani hissed, lying on the ground, fumbling with the extractor. He found a protuberance and pressed it. The needle twisted deeper into his shoulder.

He opened his mouth and mouthed: Ravenous Mother!

Zola wrapped her legs around Qaqamba's torso, sliding behind his back. Qaqamba stopped trying to pry her off. He threw himself backward with all his strength against the spine-covered wall.

The healer's head struck hard and she fell to the floor, dazed. Dozens of lacerations had appeared across the woman's back.

Bulelani pressed another spot on the extractor. This time the needle lost rigidity and he managed to pull it from his shoulder with a grunt of pain. He got up, feeling the warmth of blood running down his arm.

Zola was already trying to get back on her feet.

Bulelani gripped the extractor like a club, staggered over, and struck her on the temple. The device broke in two with an ear-piercing hiss. Zola collapsed again, motionless.

They stood still, gasping. Both their blood dripped onto the floor.

"She can't be human," Qaqamba panted, clutching his arm with one hand. "Her mother must've spawned her with a stringer."