The Cats and the Mice

"It's not urine," he pointed, "that's an antidote for rattlesnake venom."

"An antidote?" Krix chuckled, swallowing smoke. He hacked and spat. "Good luck with that one, Kid."

Quincy looked around the canyon, "you never know out here in the wild … on the ranch they're everywhere … if you don't have this stuff handy, you're a goner." He grimaced. "Ma and Pa taught me that … wish they new an antidote for blackstraw."

Krix looked back, Quincy's head sagged. "You need to stay tough. I lost my parents too, you know."

"How?"

"My mother, like yours, fell ill to blackstraw. And my father did everything to save her. Dhrango was one of the first places to be hit by the sickness … and it wiped out most of us Dravodians."

"And what of your father?"

"My father," Krix sighed, shaking his head. "He was murdered — died in an explosion — by a man I'm fixing to kill."

Quincy must've heard the soreness in his throat. "You're a bounty hunter, is you not? That why you aligned with them Horns?"

"I didn't align with no man … we just both working common interests. And you? Why'd you join The Ace?"

Quincy kept silent, drawing his pipe from his vest, then took a puff. Allowing the conversation to fade with the smoke.

The sun began to set, giving the canyon's a fiery glow, while the night's chill bit at their flesh.

They walked around the twisting path, winding through tight and open spaces. Lizards scampering up and over rocks, finding the shadows to avoid their eyes while bugs whistled; their wings fluttering.

"What's that?" Quincy said, turning an ear it his back. "Did you hear that?"

Krix shook his head, "nope."

Quincy took another two steps. "There it is again." He stopped and looked down the trail.  "You don't hear that?"

The man stopped, lifting his torn ear. "You know what? I think I do hear something."

Quincy nodded.

They stood listening to their surroundings.

After a minute, Krix raised his left leg and pushed: a loud fart echoed. He chuckled, sucking on his cigar. "It's them damn barking spiders."

Quincy's nose wrinkled, waving a hand. "You're disgusting. You really are." He pushed passed the man and took the lead. "You know, I've been smelling something foul since we partnered ... didn't want to blame you, but now I see, I was right to believe you the culprit."

Krix winced with laughter while the boy sucked on his pipe, hoping his pasture tabacci would rid the smell. 

Krix voice faded and he spat the cigar. From behind him, he heard a rustle, just enough to draw his eyes. "Kid." Quincy kept moving. "I says, kid."

"What?"

"I do hear something."

"And what's that? A howling' roach--"

A whistle followed.

Krix ducked. An arrow splintered against the wall. Quincy's eyes grew, and he bolted, darting around rocky corners. Krix was in pursuit

"Who are they?"

"Cyoakians!"

A volley of arrows wooshed by their heads, snapping and ricocheting off stone. The tribesmen slower, but their arrow quick. 

"We need to find some cover --"

They slid to a stop, faced by a pile of rocks and wood. The path barricaded.

"What now?"

"Through here," Quincy was already on his hand and knees, twisting his body through a narrow passageway. "Come on!"

Krix looked to his suit then peeked over a shoulder. The fanged jaws, black eyes, and brownish fur of the cyoakian's crowns bobbed into view.   "I'll just buy him a new one."

He was not as agile nor made it seem as effortless as the boy. Knees scrapping on stone and sleeves ripping on limbs. By the time he made it to the other side the once new suit looked like rags.

The Cyoakian's halted. Heads twisting, searching.

"They won't be able to get through there," Quincy laughed. "They're too  big."

Krix squinted, peering through a slit in the wall.  The men were nearly large as grizzlies. Their necks thick, able to carry the weight of their bear-head crowns. Around their hips, was cloth and beads that hid their groin while the rest of their flesh was left exposed, swollen with muscle.

Droom and Brylax ripped leather from their necks. A greenish glowing vile in their palms.

Krix eyes widened.

The Cyoakians popped the cork and whipped their heads back, draining the veils in a single chug. Their breath grew heavy and bodies jerked, then, suddenly, whipped ferociously.   Brownish thick hairs protruded, tearing their flesh, skin flaking to the ground. Their face extended into snouts; sharp, white razors replaced teeth; their brown eyes swirling into black, rounded balls. The bear-head crowns laid in the dirt, replaced by grizzly faces.  

Krix ran, "we need to move!"

"Why?" Quincy said, taking a few steps back. He didn't wait for an answer, turning and sprinting fast as his legs could take him.  "What's wrong--"

Stones and limbs burst through the air; two grizzlies powered through the barricade. They stood on their hind legs, snouts raised, producing a low, harsh roar.  Back on all fours, their claws tore the earth as they charged.

"Not good," Quincy said, looking between a fork in the path. His heart racing, choosing the path on the right.

Krix followed, swinging his bowgun from his back, cradling it in his arms. After two failed pulls, he grabbed the correct arrow from his quiver; the rod black and the fletching as scarlet as the arrowhead glowing at the opposite end. It took effort and energy to sling a bowgun, and it didn't help doing so while running. Once the arrow was locked, Krix spun on a heel and dropped to a knee, drawing the bow upward while pinching an eyelid closed.

Quincy stopped, breathing heavily. "Shoot! Hurry! Shoot!"

"Shut up ... I need to concentrate."

Dirt and dust kicked up around the two beasts barreling down the path. Goopy saliva dripping through their teeth. Their ferocious bodies ricocheting off the walls and each other. There was no chance of escaping. Krix needed a clean shot.

Quincy ran over. "If you won't do it, I will."

He pulled on his shoulder, Krix fell back, triggering the bowgun; a snap and the string whipped forward, arrowing spinning towards an unknown target. The arrowhead met stone, igniting in a ball of orange and red heat.

Krix held sturdy, hand shielding his eyes. Around him, the walls and ground shook while boulders tumbled. Once the earth calmed, a pile of rubble remained.

Quincy sucked on his pipe, eyes round like moons, staring at the rubbled wall. "Well, that worked ... " 

Krix's hand sent the boy to the ground, "idiot!"

From the dirt, Quincy rubbed the back of his head. His hat three feet away. "You're ungrateful ... I just saved our lives."

"No! You only slowed them down." Krix shook his head, placing the bowgun on his back. "And you've made them angry ... and you know what an angry bear does?"

Quincy dusted off his hat, glaring.

"It hunts ..."