"Run?" she said. Then she registered the sound of the beast following them, and shook off his hand. "Where?"
"There," he panted, pointing at a building ahead of them. It was one of the medium sized mounds bordering the uncovered street. About half way up, there was a broad ledge. It was formed when he'd left a few meters of the general depth level she'd talked about next to the building as he'd dug further down. They scrambled up the ladders he'd left against the lower wall, and kicked them off behind them. Sergei realized too late, that their pursuer was far too large to have climbed them.
Snarling below them was an Iron Badger, a dangerous and rare mutation. The creature was bigger than a draft horse, with all the natural weapons of an ordinary badger, and a disposition that was just as nasty. Augmenting its toughness was a natural ability to absorb metallic elements from the soil and deposit them in its fur and hide.
It had chased them down the ramp he used to dispose of waste dirt. Now it snarled at the two morsels up on the sheer dirt wall of the mound. It rose on its haunches and tried to reach them. They were out of its considerable range, so it began to dig at the base of the ledge.
"What's it doing?" she said, shaking in shock.
"Digging out the ledge from under us," he said. He reviewed their options. The ledge they stood on merged with the general level the shack was on, but if they moved around the corners, it would follow and find them easy to reach. It was stymied now, but how long before they fell to its jaws? He looked up at the sheer dirt wall covering the building. It was as high as the one below them, and their ladders were now under the badger.
Its claws scraped and sparked as the beast struck the hard wall of the building. It scrabbled against the stone blocks furiously before leaning up to dig out at a higher level under them. The ledge quaked under their paws. A fracture developed on it close to the building wall as the support began to disappear.
Soon it would fall, and Sergei looked at Tassa to see if she had an idea. The fem was drawn in on herself, completely lost to fear. "What's the matter with you?" he said.
"D... do... Don’t like heights," she stuttered.
Oh great, he thought. It was up to him. The fracture widened. It was about two decis away from the upper wall, which wasn't wide enough to support them, unless... He began scraping against the base of the wall with his claws. Even if he ripped them out, it would be better than being eaten. Lupines weren't built for this anymore, but their wolf ancestors were great diggers.
She stared at him blankly. He turned on her. "Dig, you pale bitch! You're a Lupine, curse you. Or are you like one of those weak Homan females that have their mels do everything for them? DIG!"
Her ears flattened back in anger, and a spark showed in her pale eyes for the first time since they'd climbed up here. She began to scrape desperately at the wall. They ripped out the dirt with both hands and paws. They tried to carve niches for themselves that wouldn't slide away along with them when the ledge collapsed. The fracture was a yawning crack now, almost half a meter wide.
He listened to the ledge gradually crumbling away, and had an inspiration. "Push," he growled. "Push it all down at once. Getting it all at once ought to bother it, at least. Push!"
"But we'll go with it," she said. "Then..."
"Not if we jump to our niches as it starts to go," he said, praying that his plan would work. He planted his heels against the far side of the crack and pushed. A trembling beneath them turned to a rumble as she put her strength beside his. His arms burned with strain, and he heard the grunts of her efforts.
With a thunderous crash, the whole ledge shifted. Tons of earth and rock crashed below them. He felt his balance shifting backwards, and he started to fall. A gray hand held his arm and pulled at him, and that was all he needed. Firmly he grabbed onto his painfully carved handholds and waited for the echoes to fade.
For the first time in ages, it seemed, the sound of the creature's digging was gone. When the silence deepened, he dug a hole well to the side. When he felt it would support him, he switched his weight to it and looked below. He could only see the back half of the badger, and what he could see was deathly still.
"I think it's safe," he said. The loose dirt and rocks made a steep ramp under them. He leaped, landing on the scree and rolling to the ground by the creature. He sprinted to the tool shed and brought back two shovels and a pick. "Come on," he said. "If it's not dead, we don't have long to kill it. If it wakes up, we're dead."
Nervously, Tassa jumped where he pointed. She almost managed to make it down on her paws. She breathed a sigh of relief to be on the ground again. Her sigh turned into a whine when the side of the monster shifted. "I think it's still alive," she said.
He handed her a shovel. "We need to clear off its neck."
She looked down at the tool doubtfully. "I wish I had my sword," she muttered.
"You don't," he grunted. He'd climbed on the badger's dirt strewn back and was shoveling off the loose earth that covered its forequarters. She quickly pitched in, and together they bared its neck. He jumped down and handed her the pick. "Get up there," he said. He began slamming the point of the shovel into the short expanse between its massive shoulders and its almost non-existent ears.
Gingerly, she scrambled up on the unconscious beast, and swung the pick hard. It struck home, causing a definite dent. He redoubled his efforts while she swung again and again. They hacked through the metal-laced skin and reached the tough muscle. It began to stir feebly as its dark blood flowed, but by then it was too late.
With the scent of blood in their nostrils and the adrenaline of danger in their bodies, they ripped out its throat before it could fully regain consciousness. Tassa and Sergei leaned back, trying to recover their wind and strength.
He looked down at himself, then up at her, and burst out in laughter. Their pelts were matted with dirt, sweat and blood, and their clothes were filthy. They looked awful, but they were alive. A gray ear flicked back and forth several times as she strove to retain her composure. It was a lost cause, and she joined his laughter. Quietly at first, she only stopped when she took on a note of hysteria.
"Think we can get it out of here?" she said finally.
"I hope so," he said. "I live here, and after awhile it would start to stink." He picked up the gory tools, and wiped away the mess with handfuls of clean earth. Halfway finished, he had a thought. "Inspector?" he said.
"What is it, Acolyte?" she said wearily dropping the coils of rope she'd taken from the tool shed.
He held up a shovel that had seen better days. "Will you have to report the damage I've done to this equipment?"
"I'm afraid so, Acolyte," she said with a smile. "But I'll also include the mitigating circumstances."
With a bit of effort, they got several loops of rope around the half-decapitated animal. Slowly they dragged it up the ramp to the edge of the site. By the Spirit's grace they were safe. Now it was time to check on the site.
---Go to TFH part 4.
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