GUN SALAD

As punishment for his haste, Marka was forced to watch the most stressful moment of his life play out upside-down.

There he hung, dangling from the foot snare he’d walked into so carelessly, as his companions flew into a panic. Unlike them, he could clearly see a man moving deftly among the treetops–a lithe man in Iklwan traditional garb. He hopped from tree to tree, firing dart after dart into the hollowed-out trunks of the timpans. His blowgun dispensed them one after the other, and the strong currents of air roiling within each tree did the rest, guiding the tiny, nigh-weightless darts to the nearest aperture every time.

Many of these holes faced away from the group; Marka saw several darts go astray, firing harmlessly into the surrounding brush. But the architect of the ambush seemed to have an unlimited supply. Inevitably, a hail of darts ended up peppering his friends, too.

…And the result wasn’t pretty.

Morgan was the first to be struck. Marka could only look on helplessly as the man’s eyes flew wide, his mind addled by whatever drug lay at the core of the offending projectile. At the same time, Mimi wisely took to the soil behind him, having intuited that staying low presented their best chance of survival.

Even so, a rogue dart managed to graze the back of her leg. She retained enough presence of mind, though, to call out to Beretta, who was standing frozen in the middle of the grove. Marka inhaled sharply, preparing to shout out a warning of his own… But the words died in his throat when he saw the man above leap to the top of the tree nearest her. He filled its trunk with a fresh infusion of darts in the blink of an eye, preempting any step Marka might have taken to warn her of the danger. His breathing quickened, and he felt terror’s icy grip closing around his heart. He was going to lose her. He was going to lose his daughter again.

And, if not for Roulette’s timely intervention, he surely would have.

At the very last moment, the girl dove into the path of the saboteur’s dart, sparing Beretta from whatever dark fate awaited her at the tip of that needle. This time, Marka didn’t hesitate:

“RUN, BERETTA!” he cried. “LEAVE US!”

She looked to him with fear in her eyes, but he could tell that his words had stirred her from the clutches of paralysis. Beretta gave a quick, tearful nod and fled from the grove as fast as she could. To his surprise, Mimi rose from her place on the ground and gave him a nod of her own before giving chase. He breathed a sigh of relief, secure in the knowledge that his daughter would at least have a guardian to watch over her during her flight through the jungle…

…Provided Mimi didn’t succumb to whatever chemical had entered her bloodstream mere seconds ago.

Oddly, their attacker leapt to the ground and watched them go, making no move to pursue them. Behind him, Morgan and Roulette still stood where the darts had struck them. One dart still protruded from Morgan’s neck, while Roulette’s had penetrated her clothing to lodge itself in her belly. At first, Marka dared to hope that they were successfully resisting the poison through sheer willpower alone; they gritted their teeth and cast their wild-eyed gazes around the grove, but seemed otherwise unharmed.

That was when the raving began.

“Who are you?” Morgan muttered. “Is this real life…?”

“Not here! Not here!” Roulette lamented, pulling roughly at her hair.

Then they exploded into action, fleeing from the grove in different directions. They screamed as they went, as if a horde of beasts were pursuing them… And for all Marka knew, from their perspective, that was exactly what was happening.

It was horrifying to watch. The Iklwan man turned to watch them scramble away into the jungle, but his demeanor wasn’t what Marka had expected. Rather than a smile of glee or triumph, he wore an expression of pure sorrow. He stood in the middle of the grove looking after them for some time, until long after their screams had faded into the distance.

Eventually, Marka lost patience. “Who are you?!” he growled. “Why have you done this?”

The man turned, then, his mournful eyes meeting with his own. “I am Czar Turu of Truvelo,” he said, “and I have come to kill you all.”

—

Beretta ran back the way they’d come at a frantic pace. Her feet pounded on the springy turf of the jungle floor, sending animals scurrying with every step, as the dim light of dusk set in all around her. The assault in the grove had been terrifying, but most terrifying of all was the sound of someone dogging her steps–probably their attacker, she suspected, since everyone else had been more than a little preoccupied at the moment she fled the grove. For this reason, the girl had resolved not to look back. 

If not for the sound of a sudden, breathless cry from behind, Beretta would likely have kept right on going until she’d reached the safety of the airship.

“Berry…!”

The girl skidded to a stop and spun to face the speaker. It was Mimi! She stood several feet away, panting heavily, with her forearm braced against a tree. Even in the mounting gloom of the jungle clearing, she could see beads of sweat glistening on her face–more than she’d expect to see after only a minute or two of running.

“Mimi? What is the matter?”

“One of the darts grazed my leg,” she said with a shudder, now practically clinging to the tree. “Hard to tell what’s real.”

Beretta rushed to her side immediately and took her hand, trying her best to lower the older girl into a sitting position. It wasn’t easy, though; her muscles twitched sporadically, as if she wanted nothing more than to take off running despite her obvious exhaustion. 

“Relax, Mimi. You need to rest.”

“Can’t,” she insisted. “Tie me down.”

Beretta looked over their surroundings with a skeptical eye. “With what?”

“I don’t know, just do it!”

The force of Mimi’s command sent her scrambling away. As hurt and confused as she was by the sudden spike of aggression, though, something about the sight of Mimi twitching and fighting to keep her back pressed to the trunk told her not to take it personally. She slunk off into the brush at the side of the clearing in search of something–anything–to help her fulfill Mimi’s request, and soon came across several potential candidates:

Long, thick jungle vines. Unfortunately for her, however, not a single one of them dangled anywhere near the ground; they all rested on tree branches several feet out of her reach.

Beretta reached down into the brush and fished around for a good, long stick. She felt around at the soil for several anxious seconds, praying for something long enough to help her reach the branches above, but there seemed to be nothing promising within arm’s reach. She huffed in frustration and moved deeper into the brush, probing beneath bushes and ferns as she went. Where are all the sticks!? she thought in desperation. There has to be something–

At that moment, something slithered against the side of her hand. The girl nearly jumped out of her skin, dancing away from the deep brush in a fit of absolute terror. Fueled by a mixture of fear and a distressing lack of options, she threw herself against the nearest tree trunk and began to climb toward the nearest vine she could see.

The trunk was broad and covered in slippery moss, but to her delight, Beretta found that the textured bark beneath was surprisingly sturdy. For a girl her size, handholds and footholds were plentiful, and she found herself making rapid progress toward her goal: the very lowest tree branch, which stood a good ten feet up from ground level. 

If only she hadn’t made the mistake of looking down, the climb might have gone off without a hitch.

She glanced at the base of the tree to find a great, red-and-black-striped snake coiling its way around it. Its tongue flicked out to taste the air periodically, as if it were searching for something.

…Like, perhaps, the frightened little girl who had been foolish enough to disturb its patrol of the forest floor.

Beretta’s next movements were a blur, guided by sheer panic and adrenaline. She leapt up and away from the trunk, reaching out to grasp the vine and tear it from the branch using the force of her descent. The girl hit the ground hard; the landing sent a shudder up to her core through the soles of her feet, but she sprang into action anyway, fearful of staying still long enough for the snake to catch on to her whereabouts. She barreled through the brush with her hard-won length of vine in-hand, eager to return to Mimi’s side. She had been away too long, and–

…And the worst had already come to pass. Beretta came back to the clearing to find it deserted.

Mimi was gone, and the jungle was growing darker by the minute.