Ander - Part 3: Subchapter 33
33
The pain was so bad, he only wished for the relief of unconsciousness. As he lay there, with his face against the ground, struggling for every breath, he thought he'd even welcome the peace of death.
If only it would take the pain away.
"By the Cora, this is ridiculous," a voice said, somewhere far, far above him, higher than the clouds, higher than the sky, higher than the paling moon hovering somewhere over the tree line of the Western horizon. If only it could have moved just a little bit faster...
A foot stepped down near his nose, and Ander could see tiny grains of sand blowing out towards it, not driven by the breeze, but by his own, laboured breathing.
"Huh, still alive. Son of a bitch still has some fun left in him."
"Finish him, Wardo!"
"You can do it!"
"War-DO! War-DO! War-DO!"
Still alive? Ander didn't think that would be the case for very long. He knew he must still be near the fire, but he felt so cold, and not just the regular kind of cold you felt on your skin in the dead of winter, but a deep cold, a cold that went all the way down inside.
The only heat he could still feel was the wet stuff he was lying on, and there was only one thing that could possibly be.
Why did he have to go through all this? Why? Just because he was a little different from everyone else? Is that why he had to suffer like this? Why... why couldn't he just die...?
Because you made a promise, that's why! You told Kiana you'd make it back to her!
Did he say that? Did he really?
Does it matter!? Are you just going to give up when you're so close to reaching the life you've always wanted? Are you just going to roll over and die!? Think of Sarah and Bethany and Rufio and Layla and all the others! Think of Kiana! If she can't get you through this, then you really are dead. Then you can give up, but only after you've blown out your last breath. Not before.
Ander closed his eyes and pictured Kiana's smiling face in his mind, the way she sometimes covered her mouth when she laughed, the way she planted her hands on her hips when she was angry, the way her tail swished when she was happy. He could remember how it felt when their hands first touched. Hers were so small, and his were so big, but they fit together so perfectly despite that, as if their feelings for each other could transcend reality itself.
If he gave up now, he'd never be able to see her again. He'd never be able to hear her voice again. He'd never be able to touch her again.
Ander carefully scraped his arm down across the dirt, eased his palm underneath his body - the blood was slick, so it slipped in without any trouble - and pressed it against his wound to stem the blood flow. He could still feel some of it trickling out between his fingers, but at least now it wasn't making that horrible sucking sensation anymore.
"Hmm... The smart thing to do would be to kill you right now," the high voice said, "but that would be so boring. Why don't we have some more fun? Oh, but wait... Look at what happened to Banno and Garten. Decisions, decisions..."
Ander couldn't see it, but he knew that accursed spear was hanging just above his neck. He could feel it pointing at him just like you could feel an angry stare crawling all over your body, like a spider. He had to get up... he had to try...
"Don't kill him just yet!" a new voice shouted. No, wait... that voice wasn't new. It belonged to Nilia. "That crazy Wolf almost slit my throat with my own knife! I want to see him suffer before he dies!"
Was she still trying to save him? Ander was extremely grateful, but even if it only bought him another minute of life, she was taking a huge risk.
"Weeell..." Ander now recognized that voice as Wardo's. "We still have some time left. It'd be a shame to let it go to waste." Did he know what Nilia was trying to do? He must, but why was he playing along? Could he really be that sadistic? "Hey, Darrow! Come help me with this! I'd rather not take any chances. This is one tricky bastard."
With his ear against the ground, Ander could clearly hear another set of footsteps coming at a run, the sound like a series of muffled thumps in the earth.
"Yes, Wardo?"
"That's 'Sai' to you, boy!"
"Er... Yes, Sai?"
"Get down on one knee. I'm going to show you a little trick. Give you and your idiotic friends a bit of much-needed education."
"Um..."
"Just do it!"
"Yes, Sai!"
That Wardo... He was always on the lowest rung of the social ladder of this tribe, but now he had Wolves calling him 'Sai' and following his orders, all from sticking a spear in Ander's side. It was almost funny, in a grim kind of way.
Ander saw the lower half of Darrow's body descend down into his limited field of vision.
"Now, take his arm and put his wrist over your knee."
"But what if he -"
"If he tries anything, I'll stick him through the skull. Now hurry, before our time runs out!"
Ander tried to get up again, but it was no use. He couldn't even raise his head. Darrow grabbed his arm and yanked it out from underneath his body with a wet squelch and placed it over his leg. Ander tried to pull it back, but that horrible sucking sensation was back, as if his wound was alive and trying to slurp up all the blood he had lost.
"Good! Now twist it palm up! No, the other way around, you idiot! So that the elbow is facing upwards, too! Yes, that's it!"
What was going on? What were they trying to do to him?
"Now..."
Ander felt something soft, but heavy press against his elbow. It felt like... a foot? He wasn't sure. Everything was so blurry. He blinked a few times, and the image started to clear. He could see his own arm stretching off to the side, and Darrow holding his wrist firmly in place over his bent knee. But what was that between them? Ander blinked again, and yes, it was indeed a foot pressing lightly against his elbow, but his head was so muddled he couldn't figure out why. It looked like the stance you'd use to break old, dried up branches for firewood...
And just like that, Ander knew what was about to happen, and the panic that raced through his body gave him a frantic energy. He struggled against Darrow's grip, but even caught in the midst of this desperate frenzy, he was simply too weak, too injured to break free.
Wardo lifted his leg and stomped down on Ander's elbow as hard as he could. The bone snapped in two as his arm bent the wrong way and a long, reddish brown sliver pierced his skin and burst out of the crook of his elbow in an explosion of blood.
Ander screamed, but the scream only made more pain tear through his chest, and that made him scream even harder until it felt like he would literally scream himself apart.
Darrow let go and his arm dropped down to the ground. Another blinding bolt of pain shot through it as the bone tapped against the dirt, shifting inside the mangled remains of his shredded bicep. He could see a severed vein splurt blood out of the wound in little pulses, strong and weak, strong and weak, like water poured from a thin-necked ewer.
And then Wardo's face was there, bent down and slanted at an angle, staring at him with a wide grin. "Let me tell you something, Ander," he said, his voice fading in and out, stronger and weaker in his ears, just like the flow of blood in his battered body. "I'm not doing this out of vengeance for Banno or Garten. I'm doing this because life has become drab and boring, and you stole a precious little plaything away from me. It's only fair that you take her place. Do you understand, Ander? Can you still hear me? I'm doing this because it's fun. I'm doing this because I can. I'm doing this because there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me. It's fun, Ander. Fun... fun... FUN!"
Wardo stomped down on Ander's shoulder, the one still fresh with Dorin's teeth marks. He pressed down hard and twisted his foot left and right, grinding it into the perforated meat until Ander couldn't take it anymore.
But neither could he scream. It hurt too much. Blood was flowing freely from his chest again, and all he could manage was a feeble, choking wheeze.
He felt Wardo grab his other arm by the wrist, the one that was still more or less unharmed, and pull back until it pointed almost straight up into the air. He pulled and pulled... the pain was excruciating.
The world was going blurry again, but he could see Nilia, sitting with her hands on her knees, looking at him with the most painful, forced smile on her face. He could see that her eyes were shiny with unspilled tears, a sight he never would have believed possible.
Don't, he mouthed, hoping that she would understand. If any Wolves saw her cry for him, her life would be forfeit.
Wardo pressed down harder with his foot, pulled back harder on Ander's arm, and then suddenly, without warning, the shoulder popped free of its socket with a muffled _thok!_sound. The shockwave raced up and down Ander's arm and disappeared in a fraction of a second, but the pain it generated only grew.
"Hu... Urlk!" A vile, stinking mix of phlem and blood oozed out of Ander's mouth in response to this torture, as if his body was trying to physically expel all the pain.
"There," Wardo said, his voice dripping with the pride of a job well done. "Let's see you try and fight back now. Go on. I'll even give you this."
Nilia's dagger suddenly dropped down and stuck in the ground right in front of him, almost close enough to nudge with his nose.
"Go ahead. Grab it. I seem to recall you said something about killing every last one of us?"
Wardo probably didn't think he'd even try, but try he did. It hurt like crazy, but he could still move his fingers. He clawed at the dirt, pulling his hand along like some weird bug.
"Ut tut tut tut! Whoa there!" Wardo stepped on Ander's hand, putting a stop to its feeble quest. "Can't take any chances with you, can I? But that's good. Thank you for making this night so much fun, boy. I really mean it."
Ander saw his own reflection in Nilia's blade. He looked quite the sorry sight. Cuts everywhere, blood splattered all over his face and neck, both dry and fresh. His nose had a bit of a slant to it. If Bethany could see him now, she'd completely flip her lid (that was a saying he learned from Layla), and then she'd fix him right up again, probably scolding him for not taking better care of himself while she did so. She could fix everything. Rufio would peek in from time to time, and Bethany would shout at him not to blow that smoke all over her patient. Layla would read him some Fox stories from her books while he recovered, and he would ask about the symbols and the tools used to write them, and how the pages stayed stuck together, and she would run off to ask her father if he stumped her on anything. And Kiana, she would...
Oh, but it was painful to think of her now. It hurt him far worse than the bone sticking out of his arm or even the hole in his lung.
"Time to end this," Wardo said, "and not a moment too soon."
Ander felt something cold, hard, and pointy press against the back of his neck.
I'm sorry, Kiana... He would have liked to speak these words out loud, but he couldn't talk anymore. I tried to come back to you. I tried so hard...
"Die."
Ander closed his eyes and saw her smiling face. She was so far away, but she was also right here, standing by his side. It was enough to brighten even this moment, the _final_moment. If he could die holding her hand in his, it would all be okay. Even if it was just in his imagination, it would all be okay.
I love you... Kiana...
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