liz_marcs (liz_marcs) wrote,

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New Living History...

Keeping it short and sweet tonight.

For everything up to part 57, go here.

Continued from part 58A, 58B, and 58C



Xander clambered over the rocky, uneven surface. He was scurrying as fast as he dared, but he had the sinking feeling that it wasn’t fast enough. Their scaly friend was lightening fast despite its size. Besides, it managed to wriggle its way out of one trap, what’s to say that it didn’t have some massive monster mojo that allowed it to get out of tight spaces?

He tripped for what felt like the millionth time and let out a yelp as his knee came in contact with a hard, jagged surface.

Jesus, how long had he been running?

He rubbed his knee with a wince, grateful that he didn’t pitch headfirst into the ground. If he landed just right and cracked his head....

Stop thinking about it.

He turned and looked behind him, wondering how far he’d gotten into the tunnel. He could still hear echoes of the fighting, so he couldn’t have gotten far.

Hunh. I don’t even see the cave entrance.

Oh, shit.

Vi wouldn’t.

Would she?

That pinball smile...

Shit. She most definitely would.

He felt that familiar sense of rising panic that he got when things were about to go spectacularly wrong, or even more wrong in this particular case. Vi was going to take on that monster alone and he was willing to bet good money that she didn’t have to try that hard to talk the other three into going along with it.

“Goddamn it!” He growled as he turned around to head back the way he came. “What is it? Is thinking they can kill any scaly ugly a macho Slayer thing? Jesus! That snake is going to eat them alive!”

He tripped and tumbled in his haste, doing his best to ignore the bumps and bruises along the way. He had to get there before...


He pitched forward, feeling his ankle twist and a sharp pain shooting up his left leg. Out of reflex he brought up his arms fast enough that his forearms absorbed the jarring impact, but not enough to spare him from feeling the bulk of the (thankfully) unloaded crossbow jabbing into his side. When he landed, his teeth sharply clicked together as the nearly empty quiver of bolts slammed into his back.

As he lay stunned on the ground and trying to draw breath for a few minutes, his brain registered little more than “ow.” When he finally attempted to haul himself upright he realized that his situation had rocketed from I-am-a-clumsy-idiot all the way up to I-am-so-very-screwed.

His foot had managed to get wedged in between the rocks. It didn’t help that he was trapped in a face-down position, so if he wanted to free himself he’d have to do it by touch since no one thought to give him eyes in the back of his head to replace the eye he lost in front of it. He might—just might—be able to get into a kneeling position and then do a little contortion number that would probably involve bending over backwards, adding four inches to his arms, and developing a third joint in his fingers.

Suuuuuure. This’ll be eaaaaasy.

“Well,” he muttered, “looks like I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”




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