Lords of Shadow

Bloodshed

He hit the seat recliner as fast as he could, dropping into bed mode. The arrows, or iron bolts used as projectiles, smashed into the ATV, shattering glass and jerking its frame from side to side as it dented metal.

The machine was sturdy enough not to break apart on impact, but structure was nothing against ka-boom, so he needed to hurry.

Loki had been hit in the shoulder and collarbone enough, though he had flashed downwards. The bee buzzed violently, replacing the hot sting and trickle of warm blood with numbness.

Still, he felt breathless.

The shots continued as the Halo approached, counting the steps to his death. The lord's army didn't take theft lightly, especially when it was their own stuff being stolen.

'What kind of people are these, not bothering to even check who or what's inside!'

The ATVs worked with piston engines, so he figured there wasn't enough gas for ignition, and something had blocked more from flowing in.

He didn't have time to check what, so he did something different. He grabbed the piston gear and cranked it up and down, up and down, rapidly pumping gas into the ignition chamber.

He turned the key again, but the engine only stuttered; it wasn't enough, and the soldiers had reached him!

The bee drew more pain from his pulsing wound, suddenly channeling the sensation into Loki's feet as energy. Weird, but he didn't have time to think about it.

One of the guards had found him lying and assumed he was dead, calling off the assault and coming in to check from the right side.

As soon as the guard reached, Loki pumped his legs forward, pushing out on the door. He expected the door to fling open and knock the guard down, but he was wrong.

The door burst clean off its hinges, sending the guard tens of metres back like a thrown disk.

It hurt Loki badly, for a second, though. But what did hurt more was the command that followed.

"Hostile! Neutralise threat, execute authority!" screamed a voice, resembling the one that had spoken to Mark earlier.

In simple terms, that meant that if he got an iron bolt in the side of his head and was confirmed juvenile, no one would get quarried.

But why would he care if that happened? He was immortal, wasn't he?

The rounds resumed, and he ducked under the steering wheel, cranking the gear with greater haste as the soldiers ran for him.

A hand reached out from the broken window on the driver's side and pulled it open. Luckily, he had locked the door, buying him extra time till the man could muster enough strength to pull it off.

He pressed the pedal and heard the compartment for ignition spark, then boom with violence, forcing the vehicle to race forward.

The bumper smashed into the wooden garage by its side, splintered wood all over as it lost momentum from the faulty charge.

The man whose hand had been in the vehicle got dragged along with it for a few skids, before pulling it out and falling to the ground.

Loki grimaced from impact, but acted as quickly as the bee had taken the pain. He wriggled out from his jammed position, and out the window, into the garage.

He couldn't outrun them, he couldn't defeat them, but he could at least buy time until the gas had seeped in enough into the compartment and was ready for the driver.

He moved past the parked ATVs, growing faster as more energy flowed down into his muscles. The militants followed, not caring about the still-running Armoured Transport Vehicle.

The bad thing, or in this case, saving grace, about the mechanical crossbows was the reload time. It seems easy to pop out the case and swap it out for one with rounds in it, but unfortunately, the developers of this weapon decided to add all the technical shifts and clicks for what Loki couldn't make sense of.

He ran into a smaller compartment, where the keys and spare parts were kept, but also the boards of their broken ceiling.

"Don't fail me, bee, push up!'

Loki jumped towards the opening in the ceiling, expectantly waiting for his shadow's help. Just at his climax of height, the bee bounced into his boot, sending him a few metres higher, enough to grab onto the wood layout.

It was a bit confusing on how a two-dimensional shadow was able to affect the physics of a human a dimension higher, or two higher if the time dimension was counted.

But why wonder? Just be thankful, it seemed to say. Of course it didn't.

Loki climbed in, receding into the darkness the torches' light couldn't reach. When the militants got there, they paused for a moment. One said:

"Let me check out back; the hostile probably escaped. I'll need someone to cover my six."

Mark looked to him, then pointed his crossbow up. "...I don't think that's necessary."

Loki wasn't dumb, but catching wind of the idea didn't mean he could dodge execution.

He moved once the words fell, but even still, the first bolt that shot caught his knee and penetrated. His leg buckled, and he missed his footing as he scampered, and the next move wasn't a surprise.

He fell through the boards, landing side-first onto the bonnet of a vehicle, but this one was just too armoured to be a regular ATV.

Boards landed, he knee and side blanked into pain, then numbness, then pain again. That was something he had noticed about the bee: it only took what he felt, and if the wound pulsed again, he would feel it again. For a millisecond.

Now, a different question faced him. What would the bee do for the broken leg? Pain absorption didn't mend flesh.

He winced and grasped the bolt, then yanked it out. For a moment, his frame of reference blurred, then snapped back into place. And that was just as jarring.

The soldiers rushed out from the side, and others in from the front. He was surrounded, but they didn't know where he was.

Loki stood and crouched, slowly making his way to the vehicle that was sure to have been ready to get the hell out.

Nobody was willing to waste bolts, so they pointed out their weapons, watched, and waited for movement.

He didn't like to admit it, but having stolen before, he knew a thing or two about staying silent.

Noise didn't give him away eventually; circumstance did.

He turned round the corner only to bump into a militant. The man turned tactically, not bothering to shout and deciding to shoot first, then ask questions later.

The first bolt missed, but with his leg, he wouldn't be able to dodge another. Although the pain was gone, it didn't change the fact that the leg wasn't as it should be.

The man aimed again in the same instant, and had his finger race for the trigger. For the first time, Loki was in danger. Real danger. And the bee knew it too.

Just before the bolt shot, it left its dimension and jumped into Loki's own, then deformed, and spread round his hand... like a glove.

It yanked forward, pulling Loki out of the way of the fired bolt, and towards the soldier. Then his hand touched.

And before he knew what he had done, the man was dead and dropped on the floor.

Others swarmed him once the sound travelled, but Loki had moved. He launched the body of the dead man with all his energy, slamming it into the bodies of some approaching.

That was not the way to respect a dead man.

He jumped into the vehicle before thinking, and stepped on the pedal, praying with everything he had that it wouldn't stutter.

But it did.

In a good way.

It shot forward and out of the station compound. Bolts fired behind him, some crashing into the vehicle. But it didn't take long for him to drive far, replacing the sounds of hot action with silence.

It was a victory, but one that had come with death. It hadn't been of his own will, and maybe that was the sign telling him he couldn't choose.

The realisation was brutal and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

If he wanted to progress in this world, he would have to progress by bloodshed, and not feel sorry about it.