Class Reptilia

Gunther’s mouth dropped open as he sputtered. “W-well, I-”

“That was a little heavy-handed, don’t you think?” Lance said under his breath, but Ember could hear the laughter behind his words. 

“We can’t afford to waste any more time,” Ember said. “If I know Jisu, she’s on her way here even if she had to come alone.” She turned toward the rest of her team, but the words died in her throat as she saw their expectant expressions. What are you looking at me for? I wanted to shut Gunther up, not take control of this whole operation. 

Lance came to her rescue. “Who wants to be on defense?” he asked. Two tentative hands went up. “Offense?” He and Ember raised their hands. 

“I’ll join, too,” the navigator said. “It’s not going to be easy to find the Blue Team’s base.”

Lance shrugged. “That settles it, then.”

I suppose I was overcomplicating things. Ember counted the group members as they split, realizing that two people hadn’t chosen rules. “You,” she said, addressing the amphibian, “You didn’t raise your hand. Do you have a plan in mind?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure how to help, honestly.”

She appraised him: he had green-grey skin, a round belly, and a tiny tail. His eyes were wide and set far apart, giving him a permanently sheepish expression. She guessed that he was a frog, but a land-dweller, judging by the fact that he hadn’t volunteered to climb the tree. “What’s your species?”

“Fowler’s toad.”

“Do you have a toxin?” Ember asked, remembering the incident with the desert toad in the unaffiliated dorm.

“Yes, but it only works if someone bites me.”

“Any other mutations?”

“Nothing useful, really. Hiding and playing dead.”

“Can I see?”

Looking embarrassed, the amphibian backed up against a tree, lowering himself between its roots. Before Ember’s eyes, his large body merged with the forest around him, the dark patches on his skin mimicking fallen leaves and his bumps becoming indistinguishable from the rocky soil. 

 

Just as he was rolling over to play dead, Ember held up a hand to stop him. “We can work with this,” she said, thinking aloud. “You can spy on the Blue Team using your camouflage. We just need to figure out how you’ll relay their movements back to us… ” 

“That won’t be a problem,” the amphibian said, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “My species has a very… distinct call.”

Ember looked at him expectantly, and he grimaced, shuffling sideways so that he would be out of view of the other team members. She watched, fascinated, as his throat expanded to the size of his head, pulsated, and then released an ear-splitting wail not unlike that of an infant. 

Ember clapped her hands over her ears. “Wow,” she said, “that’s horrible.” The toad looked at her sadly, and she quickly backtracked. “It will work perfectly, though. Why don’t you go talk with the others? Maybe you can develop different codes to inform them of the other team’s position.”

As he waddled away, Ember turned her attention toward the last member of her team—the pisces, Gunther, whose arms were crossed over his chest and his face blotchy red with anger. She sighed, dragging a hand over her forehead. I’m not cut out for this. 

She approached him cautiously, assuming what she hoped was a neutral expression. His bravado had faded since her outburst, and no one had paid him any mind since. 

“Come to tell me what to do?” he asked. 

“No,” she replied, “but we’ll need everyone’s skills if we want to win.”

“Your plan won’t work,” he said.

Ember resisted the urge to roll her eyes, deciding to humor him. “Why’s that?”

“You can’t just let people pick their positions—now our defense is unbalanced. The people on Team Blue are mostly offensive fighters, and they’ll probably opt for an all-out attack.”

Although delivered in an almost unbearably smug tone, Ember had to admit that he might have a point. “Why don’t you be the fourth defender, then?” she asked. “You have a large build, and I heard you’re a strong fighter.”

“And trust you to bring back their flag?” 

“The terrain here is rough, and whoever grabs the flag is going to have to move quickly and agilely,” Ember explained, frustration biting into her words. “Besides, Lance and I aren’t suited for defense—we’re lightweights, and we don’t have natural armor like you.” She gestured at his tough skin pointedly. “This arrangement makes the most sense.”

The pisces narrowed his eyes, and Ember took a wary step back. Then, he pushed past her without another word, joining the defensive group on the wooden platform. As the tense outline of his back receded, Ember dried her forehead with the hem of her shirt. Did I make the right decision? 

“Hey,” a voice said softly, and Ember felt Lance’s hand on her shoulder. The navigator stood by his side, holding rope in one hand and a compass in the other. “You ready?”

Ember nodded, praying that she wouldn’t have to counsel anyone else for the rest of the game; in fact, she decided conclusively that fighting would be preferable to another moment of talking. 

“This way,” the navigator said, leading them away from the orange base and back into the dense forest. 

The three Linnaeans moved gracefully, the sound of their gentle footfalls easily drowned out by the wind. The navigator took his time, denotating every one hundred yards with a spot of red paste. Ember kept count of their paces in her head, her anxiety spiking as the minutes ticked by. The mile-long hike was just as difficult as the path to the orange base, and their progress was slowed by freezing streams, tangled underbrush, and fallen trees. 

About three-quarters of the way to the Blue Team’s base, Lance held out an arm to stop Ember and the navigator. His small nose twitched. “There’s someone nearby,” he whispered almost imperceptibly. 

The three crouched, sneaking closer to the source of the smell. As they came around the trunk of a redwood, Ember detected a trace of an infrared signature. She pointed, gesturing for them to hide behind a cluster of rolling roots. Just ahead, a hairy mammal was sitting against a treetrunk with his legs outstretched and a knife in his lap. 

Ember glanced at Lance, signaling with her chin for him to approach on the other side. 

The mammal’s ears twitched, and he opened his mouth halfway, but it was too late—they were on him in an instant. Ember’s arm snaked around his neck, immobilizing him in a choke while Lance kicked the knife out of his reach. 

The mammal flailed as he struggled to escape, and a garbled noise rose in his throat, but Lance clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t scream,” he warned. 

The ermine glanced at Ember, and she could read the question in his eyes: ‘What the hell do we do with him?’

“Listen,” Ember said, hoping she sounded suitably threatening, “you have two choices. Either you surrender and return to the neutral zone, or we tie you up here and you wait however long this game takes to end.”

The mammal seemed to consider it for a moment, and Lance took his hand slowly away from his mouth. “Fine,” he signed. “I’ll go back.” 

Lance tucked the mammal’s knife into his belt as the navigator bound his hands loosely with rope. “Sorry, but I have to hold onto this for now. You’ll have it back after the game’s over.” 

The navigator pointed the disgruntled-looking mammal toward the neutral zone, and they watched until they were satisfied that he wasn’t returning to the Blue Team’s base. 

When Lance, Ember, and the navigator took up the trail again, the atmosphere was ripe with anticipation. “It won’t be long, now,” the navigator whispered. 

They started as a distant scream split the air, and Ember took a panicked half-step toward it before recognizing the amphibian’s cry. It sounded out five times more in quick succession, punctuated by the sound of branches cracking and pine needles rustling. 

She looked worriedly at the others. “Should we go back? They’re attacking with six of their members.”

Lance shook his head with a frown. “We’re too close—we have to trust the others. And accounting for the guy we just sent back, there’s only one person on their defense.”

They crept forward, and the blue platform quickly came into view. Sitting against the flagpole was a broad Linnaean, his back turned. Above his head, the blue flag snapped in the wind. 

“He’s not paying attention,” Lance said hopefully. 

“Careful,” the navigator stopped him, “that guy’s in the third level of the advanced class. He’s known for being a great defender.”

“Species?” Ember asked. 

“Elephant,” the navigator replied, and Ember vaguely remembered a large Linnaean with a rough grey hide and a thick trunk. I should have paid more attention—I didn’t realize we’d be fighting each other. 

“You’re the stronger fighter,” Lance whispered. “You attack from behind and I’ll go for the flag.”

“I’ll help where I can,” the navigator added, drawing his blunted blade.

With a nod at her teammates, Ember crept through the treeline until she was within reach of the platform. Even from behind, the defender was mountainous—even larger than Elliot. She did a quick assessment: a rushed infrared scan revealed nothing of note, but his neck was exposed and there was no weapon in his meaty hands. I’ll strike him in the back of the head, she decided, that’s my best shot at knocking him out or stunning him. 

She darted forward at maximum speed, her eyes fixed on her target. She lifted a knee, prepared to drive it straight into the base of his neck at about half-strength. 

Just before the moment of contact, the defender’s torso shifted, and she found herself looking unexpectedly into a pair of grey eyes. She fumbled midair, but it was too late to change her course as a pair of white tusks caught her in the shoulder, flinging her across the platform like a rag doll.

Hekate37

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Happy late Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it!