2. Squamata Gorge, April 3713 (Part 1)
"Get the lead out yer ass, Julius! Them damn things are right on 'r tail!"
Clearsight, with his mouth full of chewing tobacco, was hollering at Julius like a madman. They were being chased by a swarm of skakrels— mutated scorpions, the size of monitor lizards, with wings and spiked tails— through one of the many winding passages in Squamata Gorge, and he didn't appreciate Clearsight stating the obvious. He was already bothered by the sun brutally beaming down on them. To him, the temperature of the whole area felt like something between a hot glue gun and the inside of a overheated toaster. Crazy thing about it was that it was only April.
"I'm trying!" Julius hollers back, wheezing heavily. He could literally feel oxygen being siphoned away through the back of his neck due to that damned blazing star in the sky. Running like he was is murder on a person. "I'm dying out here, man! I told you we should've brought the horses!"
"Nah, bad idea!" Clearsight barks. "Wouldna done us no good, brother! Pesky critters woulda got 'em while loadin' up. Leavin' 'um behind was the best option."
As much as Julius hated to admit it at the time, Clearsight was right. They've both seen what the skakrels can do before— up, close and personal— and it's not a pretty sight, so of course he was doing the best he could to hightail it out of there. Carrying two knapsacks full of squamatite— remnants of the meteor that created Squamata Gorge— under his arms wasn't doing him any favors though. Still, Julius pushed through with every ounce of energy he could muster, fairly certain that he was only persisting because of the adrenaline rush from fear plus his relentless will to survive and see another day.
"Well, we should've at least taken the Dustbully!"
"The Dustbully? Are ya' serious, Julius?" Clearsight remarks, clearly agitated.
"Yeah, I'm dead serious! What's the problem?" Julius was very curious as to why he wasn't taking his suggestion into consideration.
"Jumpin' Jehoshaphat, the heat must be gettin' to ya' boy! You ain't got the sense The Almighty done gave a tadpole," Clearsight grunts, taking a moment to spit since the tobacco he was chewing had lost its flavor. He was still running as he did, so Julius had to suddenly shift to the left because the direction it was headed in would have brought it dead into his face. Aside from that, he could clearly tell Clearsight was shaking his head in frustration despite the large, khaki hood he's wearing.
"We couldn't take the Dustbully 'cause Squamata's too narrow a area for it to move through. 'Sides, that thing does better in areas rife with sand."
"Eh, I guess you're right. Still, it would've been better than being a hair's breadth away from getting our cheeks clapped by flying-fucking-scorpions!"
"Hahahaha! You whine too much, Jules," booms a gruff voice from behind, snark bleeding all through it. That voice could only belong to a one Johnny Jimmy Jonas the Third, better known to Julius, Clearsight and the authorities as 3-J Cliff-Face. "learn to lighten up. You'll live a lot longer!"
"Easy for you to say! Those things seem to be more scared of you than you are of them!" Julius growls, sweating profusely and steadily losing his breath, glaring at 3-J out the corner of his left eye. Unlike him, 3-J is in the best shape of his life. He winks as he zooms past his friend, looking like nothing but a giant streak of yellowish-brown due to his khaki clothing, with his big, booted feet leaving craters in the ground. He moves pretty swift and nimble for a man of such large size and four knapsacks of squamatite around his waist, plus a haversack full on his back.
As I'm sure you've probably guessed when it comes to 3-J, his nickname comes from the three J's in his birthname, however, the Cliff-Face part is based on his horrifyingly jagged jaw and chin. He's not the most attractive man, but he never has a problem pulling women either. They take a look at how tall he is with his massive frame, bulging muscles, long, golden-brown dreads plus his bronze-like skin tone and just fall madly in love. He's like some beautiful-ugly man-beast to them, and they can't get enough. However, 3-J has a bit of a negative reputation when it comes to certain women: he has a particular disdain for light-skinned women.
Some have called him a colorist for that, though that's not the right term. If you asked him, however, he'd call himself the same, mostly to whip up a shitstorm and make those females swarm like sharks when fresh blood's about the water. Julius has often questioned why 3-J would wear such a malignant characterization so proudly, only for the big lug to say that "the light has never been good" to him. From Julius's quasi-psychoanalysis, this line of thinking obviously stems from the abuse 3-J received at the hands of his mother as a youth.
(That's something we'll get into a bit more later. It's beside the point right now.)
Trying to save face, Julius makes a mad dash towards his friend's position. Despite his buckets of perspiration and the fact that he's overencumbered with the squamatite loads, he successfully catches up, eventually gaining on 3-J.
"I guess this is a bit of a race now, huh!?" he ecstatically shouts, tapping 3-J on the elbow as he zooms past him in a callback to earlier. He's grinning like a maniac though and doesn't understand why, especially since he's winded and very enervated. Actions like this aren't the norm for Julius, but again, it may just be his adrenaline and the fact that the skakrel swarm is gaining on him, shrieking like bats out of hell.
"No time for no races right now, boys!" Clearsight admonishes the two. "Just keep on hoofin' it and don't lose n'an one of them bags! We ain't come down here to up and leave empty-handed!"
Despite his orders for them, he's struggling to maintain his own cargo— eight quilted bags full of squamatite strapped to different parts of his person— which both can clearly see, but make no mention of. Even though he's nowhere near as muscular and large as 3-J, when it comes down to it, Clearsight is stronger than both he and Julius combined. That fortitude is exactly why he's the leader and they follow his words to the letter because something about this gangly, wizened, long-in-the-tooth fellow with his thinned-out, albescent mullet and equally whitish and bushy handlebar mustache is extremely intimidating.
"I hear ya', boss," Julius sighs. "But we also didn't come out here to die!"
"None of us did, Julius! Keep ya' eyes on the prize though, this'un here is 'r biggest job after all!" Clearsight says, flashing a smile. If only Julius could see it, he'd be more at ease. Actually, on second thought, he'd most likely be more unnerved.
"Hey, I'm just saying, if it comes down to it, I may have to eighty-six these bags. No need of holding on to 'em if my life's on the menu."
Out of nowhere, Clearsight stops and pulls out his revolver, aiming it at Julius. "Ya' ain't doin' no such thing, boy! I'll deliver ya' to that skakrel swarm myself 'fore I go lettin' ya' toss them there pickin's away like nothin'! Do ya' understand!?"
Julius abruptly stops in front of the barrel of the gun, kicking up dust. He was close to tumbling over from such a sudden halt, as he had tripped over his own feet.
"What the? There's no time for this right now, Clear! We're almost back at the entrance, just a bit more to go!"
Clearsight just stares at Julius with those beady and milky white eyes of his. Squinting and frowning due to the sun's glare on his gun, but mostly due to his anger with Julius.
"Boy... ya' done got me feelin' like I can't trust ya' today. Ever since we came, ya' been bellyachin'. Just a buncha non-stop, nonsense yammerin' 'bout the dangers out here," Clearsight growls, his gun still trained on Julius. Seems like he's waiting on the perfect reason to shoot him.
"Well, I mean, that's because there IS a lot of danger here," Julius sighs. "For fuck's sake, just look at the shit behind us!"
"Well I'm tellin' ya' now, that shit's all horseshit. Ain't nothin' more dangerous than givin' up on the job," Clearsight shoves the gun barrel dead center into Julius's forehead. "If ya' gon' bitch-up, I can just end ya' here. 3-J can carry yer load."
Julius begins to tremble. It's not like he's never had Clearsight pull that gun on him before. Actually, he's been on the receiving end of it plenty of times and remembers every detail about it, from the blue finish on the carbon steel to the 8⅜ inch barrel, the open sights on the rear and the customized squamatite grips on the handle. It's a seven-shot, Model 586 Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum, just for the record. Such details might seem pointless to mention, but they're important to Julius because he absolutely loves firearms and hopes to be worthy of wielding that gun someday.
That is, if he doesn't die first.
"H- h- hey, just chill, boss! I won't do it! Scout's honor!" Julius pleads. Although he's still trembling, he slowly maneuvers his hands towards Clearsight's, carefully lowering the weapon and removing it from his head. "Those things are about seven or eight feet away from us, so just tuck that gun back in your trousers, turn around and let's keep running. We don't have much further to go."
Despite how many times he has seen that gun get whipped out, he's never witnessed Clearsight draw it in the midst of being chased by skakrel. They are extremely vicious creatures whose sting can make a person's body swell to elephantine proportions, eventually corroding into a necrotic state, then finally melting down to a pile of noxious and viscid gunk. Just being in the vicinity of such is harmful and can make you deathly sick. However, it's important to note that only the leader of a swarm does the stinging, the others are just there for distraction and to feast on the remains of what's been stung. Furthermore, skakrel like to toy with their prey, so they intentionally put distance between them in order to give a false sense of security. Julius knows better though, so do Clearsight and 3-J. This is why it's important they keep running.
Present danger aside, Clearsight has finally started to feel the effects of old age, despite being in his mid-seventies. He's also beginning to tire of this line of work after doing it for so many years. With that being said, this job was supposed to be the biggest: a job to end all jobs. With all of the loot they've grabbed, there'd be no need to undertake these life-threatening operations ever again. Yet, there's something about this one being the last that just tugs at Clearsight's heartstrings, making him more determined to see it through.
Clearsight was about to holster his weapon when suddenly the whole area began to tremble.
"What in tarnation!? Is that a earthquake!?"
Julius shivers and shrugs, "I really don't know, boss, but we need to keep moving. Earthquake or not, I ain't tryna die out here."
"You always want to run," 3-J sighs. "You never want to fight for your life. Such a pity."
"Fight for my life? Muthafucka, we are in Squamata Gorge where skakrel, ghostworms and Ember-backed three-headed sidewinders reside," Julius snaps, glaring at 3-J. "And that's just naming a tenth of the dangers out here. I ain't about to drum up some misguided machismo when Clearsight's the only one with a fuckin' weapon."
"Ha! You are sorely mistaken, my friend. Clearsight isn't the only one who came prepared," 3-J smugly retaliates as he reaches around to his haversack, undoes a velcroed section and pulls out a long, brownish-orange object. "I brought the Party-Pooper. The spread on this bitch is amazing."
"The fuck? You've had that this whole time!?" Julius screeches.
"Well, yeah. Clear reached out to me last night and told me to be prepared. Only reason I hadn't used it is because of your constant whining. While a bit annoying, it was amusing, so I just didn't say shit. Liked watching you squirm. Hahahaha!"
"Fuck you!" Julius screams. He kicks a mound of dirt and rocks in 3-J's direction then turns to Clearsight. "Why am I the only one without a weapon in this bitch!?"
"I up and forgot, dammit! That's all!" Clearsight leans forward, his neck as stiff and solid as a pillar. He's extremely vexed and makes no effort to hide it as he shoves his bony index finger into Julius's nose. "It's pro'lly best I did though as ya' woulda been too chickenshit to use the damn thing!"
"Hey! You take that ba–" Julius starts, but is suddenly cut off by another tremor, this one louder and more sustained than the first. "You know what? Fuck you both. Let's see how well your weapons fare against a fuckin' earthquake."
Julius turns around to run but is immediately halted once a large rock breaks away from an escarpment, landing smack-dab in front of him.
"Holy shit!"
The massive, diamond-shaped rock pierces the ground and creates an even more massive hole while sending dirt, dust and jagged pieces of stone hurtling into the air. Had Julius moved a second sooner, he'd be a bloody mess inside of that same crater.
"Ohshitohfuckohshitohfuckohshitohfuck!" he wails as the surrounding walls of the canyon begin to fissure, creating a series of lightning-shaped cracks.
In the midst of all the havoc and quarreling, the trio failed to notice that the skakrel swarm had arrived. However, once the creatures were ready to make a concerted effort and attack the men, a section of the eroded and meteor fragment-filled wall explodes, lobbing masses of stone and squamatite.
From the chaos erupts a ferocious and afflictive roar that could only be compared to having railroad spikes shoved into one's eardrums, followed by the appearance of something colossal, aggressive and overall hungry.
It swallows the swarm of skakrel whole, then sets its sights on the quivering men before it.
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