I closed my eyes, remembering our journey through the older, unfamiliar hallways. We had turned a corner where we almost caught up with the blind guy. We reached the intersection with the grates in the floor and walls. Water was running down one of the tunnels. Something caught my attention, I turned abruptly toward the wall with the grate and…
I was right! I hadn’t been imagining things. I did see an orange plux! That fact had been clawing at my mind — while we were working, I kept thinking back to that moment, trying to figure out what exactly I saw. That’s why I didn’t miss the orange flash in the thick, pale fog, as brief as it was. The things were motionless, which made it hard to notice them.
The orange plux was in the back, behind the rest of its pack.
I wondered what that meant. If it was the pack leader, it should have been ahead of the rest, but it took cover behind them in the fog and darkness. Or maybe it wasn’t the leader. Maybe it was just smart enough to understand that its bright scales gave its position away. Or was the color just a random mutation that had nothing to do with anything?
Still, it stayed behind the rest of the pack, which was crowded together. It seemed like it knew it was too bright. The pack was on the hunt, and I knew who their intended prey was.
The blind guy, who was already starting to stand up.
I had seen these pluxes back at the intersection, following him. They were stalking him silently, waiting for the right time and place to attack. That’s how smart predators hunted, pursuing their unsuspecting prey for hours. It was pure chance I had noticed them when they were passing by.
They waited patiently. Their hiding spot was a perfect place for an ambush, shrouded by fog and darkness. They had definitely noticed that their prey wasn’t alone — this behavior was unusual. All the pluxes I had seen before attacked without hesitation. As soon as the metal barrier was lowered, the pluxes charged forward, only to be smashed by the spiked club.
I stood up, took off my sandals, and started down the stairs, not waking Yorka. She was unarmed. What could she do against armored beasts? They would tear her apart with their sharp teeth and strong claws. I decided to leave her at the top of the stairs.
What else did I know about them?
I would have to split the list, since apparently there was more than one type.
There was too much I didn’t know.
I went down the stairs and walked over to the blind guy, who was carefully folding the handkerchief he had been sitting on. Despite everything, he still kept up healthy habits. That was very wise of him.
He heard me coming and tensed up. His hand darted to his belt bag and snatched out a long, sharp awl. I froze a few paces away, surprised at his sudden aggression. He knew we were in the same hall, working side by side. Then he lowered his face as though looking at my feet, and I understood. Yorka and I had both been wearing our sandals before, and they made a characteristic sound as we walked. But now I approached him quietly. It would have been easy for him to think that it wasn’t one of us approaching, or that one of us had decided to rob the blind man.
“Wow,” I said approvingly, and glanced toward the fog-shrouded passageway. “Your reflexes are fantastic.”
“What do you want? Are you one of the pair who were working here?”
“Yeah, I’m one of them. My partner, Yorka — she’s sleeping up top. I’m Elb. My official number is Eleven, or Double Ones.”
“I’ve heard rumors about you. You killed Johnny. You and your friend,” he said evenly, drawing back a little and placing his back against the metal bulge. “Is your friend really sleeping, or is she sneaking up on me from behind?”
“I’m not here to kill you. As for Johnny, well… Rumors are just rumors.”
He didn’t buy it. “What do you want?”
That was understandable. I could imagine how he had suffered at the hands of people who didn’t give a damn about his disabilities, those who just wanted someone to taunt. I was sure he was kicked, punched, and pushed around. It wouldn’t be all that bad if it didn’t happen on a daily basis...
“What do I want? Well, first, let me tell you a short and very moving story.”
“Forget it. I’m not interested.”
“Do you have a death wish?” I said, surprised.
“Is that a threat?”
