Chapter 66: A Losing Battle

He moved too late.

The strand clipped his shoulder and knocked him several steps off balance. He caught himself, his jaw tightening as pain spread down his arm.

The old man opened fire, forcing the pursuing tentacle to retreat long enough for Zarek to recover.

"Try hitting something that doesn’t hit back!" he shouted.

Zarek shot him a cold glance.

"Then make yourself useful."

He rushed forward again.

This time, the old man followed his movement instead of trying to attack independently. Whenever Zarek drew a tentacle toward him, the old man fired into its exposed side.

The damage was limited, but it disrupted the creature’s movements just long enough for Zarek to strike at the smaller strands clustered around its main body.

One snapped beneath his fist. Another broke when he drove his heel into it.

For several seconds, their approach worked. The tentacles pulled away from their attacks, leaving narrow openings through which they could advance.

The old man felt hope stir despite himself.

Then the monster dragged its body against the surrounding growth.

A deep, grinding crack travelled through the floor. Roots tightened along the walls, and new strands forced their way through gaps in the concrete. The monster’s damaged tentacles withdrew into the growth, disappearing among the writhing roots.

"So that’s how you keep going," Zarek muttered.

The creature answered with a guttural roar.

"GRRRAAAAAARRH!"

The sound broke into a piercing shriek as its tentacles snapped upward and lashed in every direction.

"Get back!" the old man yelled.

Zarek leaped aside as two strands crashed into the floor where he had been standing. A third swept across his legs. He jumped over it, landed hard, and twisted away from another attack coming from his left.

The old man tried to retreat behind a thick root, but a tentacle caught his weapon and ripped it from his hands. The gun flew across the corridor, striking the floor before disappearing beneath the moving roots.

He barely had time to react before another strand slammed into his chest.

The impact hurled him against the wall.

"ARGH!"

Pain burst through his ribs. He dropped to one knee, gasping, and pressed a hand against his side as he struggled to breathe. The tentacle turned toward him, its tip scraping across the concrete.

He rolled away just before it struck. Concrete fragments cut his cheek, and blood ran along his jaw.

His weapon was out of reach.

He searched the floor desperately and spotted a metal rod lying near a broken section of pipe. He crawled toward it, but a thin root curled around his ankle and pulled.

The old man slammed a hand against the floor.

"Get off!"

He kicked at the root, but it tightened and dragged him backward. The larger mass of roots waited several feet away. He knew what would happen if the creature pulled him into it.

A shadow fell across the strand.

Zarek’s fist came down.

The root snapped, and the old man scrambled free. He rolled onto his side, clutching his injured ribs, then looked up at the young man standing over him.

Zarek offered no hand.

"Get up. I’m not fighting this thing alone."

The old man swallowed his pain and forced himself to his feet. "I wasn’t planning to die here."

"Then try to keep up."

Zarek turned away before the old man could respond.

He had not rescued him out of kindness. The old man still owed him answers about the creature and the strange fruits that had strengthened the people on the upper floors.

If he died now, Zarek would lose the chance to learn what he knew.

That was reason enough to keep him alive.

The old man retrieved the metal rod and gripped it with both hands. It was a poor substitute for a firearm, but better than fighting empty-handed.

They faced the monster again.

Zarek’s breathing had grown heavier. He could hurt the tentacles, but every successful strike left him vulnerable to another attack. The old man could create openings with the rod, yet he lacked the strength to do meaningful damage to the larger strands.

Their efforts were costing them more than they gained.

The old man moved in to strike, but the monster abruptly pulled its tentacles back toward its body. For a split second, the corridor opened in front of them.

Zarek took the opportunity and charged.

The creature released a harsh, grinding roar. A thick strand shot out from beneath its chest and caught Zarek across the back before he could reach it.

"URGH!"

He hit the floor hard. The impact drove the air from his lungs, and several tentacles dropped around him, cutting off his path back.

The old man rushed in and swung the metal rod at the nearest strand.

"GRRRAAAAH!"

The monster’s roar drowned out the clang of metal. The tentacle barely shifted, and another strand slammed into the old man’s ribs, throwing him aside.

He landed on one knee, gasping, while Zarek forced himself up before the surrounding tentacles could close in.

Zarek finally regained his footing. His shoulders ached, and every breath pulled at the pain spreading across his back. He could withstand more punishment than an ordinary man, but that did not mean he could ignore it.

Across from him, the old man struggled upright, one arm wrapped around his injured ribs.

Neither had gained anything from the last exchange.

The creature, however, had barely slowed.

Its enormous head tilted toward them. Dark fluid dripped from its damaged face, and its chest rose in a series of uneven heaves. For a moment, the corridor grew strangely still.

Then its jaw stretched open.

"GRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The deafening roar shook the walls. The monster’s neck bulged as it forced the sound from its ruined throat, and the roots embedded in its body shuddered violently.

Every tentacle in the corridor rose at once.

Zarek tightened his fists and shifted his stance. Beside him, the old man seized the metal rod with trembling hands.

The roar cut off.

The tentacles came down.