Beneath the ground he cursed.
A worm wriggled within his ear, whipping around within his head. There wasn't much up there anyway, but it was a fucking unnatural thing to feel. As if someone were stroking his brain, forcing him to feel cold wet fingers while he was shoved within a muddy box.
After ripping himself out of the ground, feeling a little more strength, he stomped his way to the fire.
At least what should've been one, as Peter was nowhere to be found.
Al approached him, fresh sharpened spear along her back.
"He's on the shore," she said, shaking her head. "Way up there."
They looked together, what must've been at least a mile or so.
It didn't appear so far before, and for the rest of the day they tried building a fire of their own while conjuring up a plan. A few sparks, but nothing more, and the same could be said for any idea as to how they'd reach the other side.
"All we have to do is touch it," Al said, laid back, hands behind her head. "If we can just get passed everything."
"I'll distract them, you make for the shore," he insisted.
"No way I'm leaving you here after what you've done for me."
"I did nothing, you figured it out for yourself."
She turned to him, half her face covered in moonlight. "I've said it once, the effect you have on people."
He sighed, "Effect of nothing, I'm the reason you're here."
"And the reason I could even pull myself together," she argued. "I admit, I'm still not sure how you fought you're way out of here alone, but, there's something in you I've never seen in anyone else."
It was nothing special.
Nothing he wanted to dwell on, as the thought of Nathan or Dany made him sweat. Al must've sensed his uneasiness, as she readied her spears just an hour after midnight.
"Got something in mind?" He asked.
She nodded. "How long can you last?"
Club in hand, he tightened his grip.
Enough strength to kill more than one serpent or gator at the very least. The rest he'd have to figure out as he went, but Al was faster between the two of them.
At dawn, they stood long the shore together.
Then she took off, scraping her arm with a spear. Blood dripped down to her palms, and she shouted like a wild wolf, kicking water towards beaming eyes. Ahead of him growled one gator, though he couldn't see it.
With his off hand he threw a spear into the water.
Jaws appeared on his right. He swung up, knocking the gator onto its side. A few bashes against its snout and it bled, scurrying away from him. Serpents took to his side next, and he slammed against the water backing them away. One lunged, biting his thigh. One swing down cracked its skull, thought its fangs were still stinging him. Another swing knocked it away, then he swung wild. He knocked away another python, from the middle of its strike, though the next bit his bleeding thigh.
After bashing the serpents eyes out, he pushed onward.
Within knee deep water, getting waist deep every step, he listened to Als screams.
She was so far ahead he almost couldn't see her, but she was there. Throwing wood spears, thrusting with her rock, leaping and dashing from roaring gators. Some were so large one could've mistook them for drakes, others were what one would expect within a shit ridden hellhole.
He ran to join her, though is burning thigh cramped.
Poison, spreading fast.
His vision blurred, and he cursed, scooping up swamp water to shove in his mouth. The taste of shit kept him awake, but he was losing balance. Growls turned him around, and light shined from behind him.
He slammed his club, backing away a pair of gators.
While stepping back, light shined brighter.
Peter threw a spear, landing within a gators eye. The mad lad took to his side, swinging wild fire in all directions. Though he tried to stay up, Peter leaned underneath him, half carrying him towards the next shore.
"Go!" Peter shouted to Al, who was just a few strides away.
She made it, then turned back in an instant.
She threw the rest of her spears, landing within a gators back.
It turned to her, and she readied her rock spear. Peter cursed, hurrying with himself as he dragged his club.
"Get met close," he said, voice becoming raspy.
Within arm's reach of the gator, its tail lashed. Peter dropped him, taking the brunt of the massive scaly whip, and flew into the trees.
On his feet, using his club as a cane, he swung hard as he could against the gators hind legs. One swing cracked a bone, then another broke it. It span, turning with open jaws. Al scaled atop it, though it slammed down atop him, burying him within the water.
Mouth full of dirt, dung, and piss, he dragged himself up.
Atop the gator, Al held on, her spear deep within its right eye. Beneath the gator's belly, he limped onward. She shouted, slung into the water, and the gator crushed her in a single bite.
He collapsed to his knees.
Like a beaten dog, he crawled.
Its eyes shined, swallowing Al whole, as it faced the shore.
A few more paces. One last leap, he threw himself forward. His foot was still in the water, his bad leg, and jaws crushed it. While letting out a scream, he held on, pulling against tearing flesh.
The gator ripped him up, though his bad leg detached.
After landing on the shore, all his body atop stubby dark grass, he laughed.
Eyes overhead, the gator finished swallowing his leg. It snarled, as if it were disgusted, then turned away.
Muscles tight, his laughing became snorts. Black fluids ran out his eyes and ears, and he fell silent.
Rumbles shook the ground.
Their chants were in the old language, what he didn't know his first time through. They were waiting for him, the lords of the swamp, a pile of dung and bones.
All his muscles swelled.
He bloated like a purple pig, blood seeping from his pores, and death's hand greeted him.