Chapter Three: Roads of Bone

THREE

Roan climbed down the shelf in a hurry, leaping the last few feet to slam into the skeleton. His boots broke the shins of the skeleton, shattering them like rotten wood. It folded in half, slamming into the ground in a pile of bones. Roan slammed the axe into the skull, splitting it with a single blow.

Hands came and grabbed at him, skeletons coming from the shelves above him and below. Thin fingers wrapped around his hair and ankles, pulling him toward the graves.

“FUCK OFF!” Roan screamed in rage and fear, slashing at the hands holding his hair. Steel bit bone and a hand hit the ground, a chunk of his hair still in its deathly grasp. Roan snarled in rage as his heart pounded in his chest in a frantic rhythm. He tore his ankle free, feeling the fingers rip at his skin.

Away from the close proximity of the shelf, he watched as the skeletons got to the ground, their broken bodies not slowing them down. One of them staggered toward him while the other turned and started to reach up, grabbing at the other slumbering undead.

“No, you don’t!” Roan charged forward, but the skeleton lifted a rusted sword up, barring his path. Roan slapped the sword away and lunged forward, grabbing the creature’s neck with his free hand. Bone snapped under his fingers as he wrenched his fingers to the side. Its head hung on with scraps of skin attempting to hold the skull in place. Roan didn’t give it a chance.

He shoulder checked the skeleton while ripping his hand the other way. The last fragments of the skeleton’s neck broke free, leaving Roan holding the skull by the truncated remnants of its spine. More skeletons started to stir as they were awakened with nothing but the briefest brush.

Roan reared back and threw the skull and watched as it crossed the short space to slam into the fully awakened skeleton. It slid and fell free of the shelf, hitting the ground hard but rising with its own axe as it started toward him with murderous intent. Above it the other skeletons were starting to slide free and a touch of panic started to pierce through the anger and pain.

“If they all come at me, I can easily become overwhelmed.” Roan didn’t slow down, just pressed his attack even as his limbs started to feel the strain of the brief but fierce fight. He knocked the enemy axe blade out of the way and drew the second axe in a smooth motion, chopping down and leaving the blade buried in the undead’s head.

More of them started to come down from the top, stabbing down awkwardly with their swords. Rusted steel parted the air as Roan threw himself backward, hitting the ground ass first and rolled away as the last of the shelf landed ready to fight.

Blood and sweat dripped into his eyes, the patches of torn scalp weeping freely to pour down his face. His ankle throbbed as he crouched down, balanced as well as he could be. He looked over his shoulder, a part of him wanting to run from the crowd as they headed toward him.

Then he looked over the alerts with all the credits he’d earned.

“It’s only three of them. I can do three,” Roan whispered. The tight confines of the mausoleum and realized the skeletons could only come at him one at a time. Roan moved forward in a shuffling step, the tip of the sword wavering before it lunged. Sparks erupted as he threw himself against the crypt, knocking the sword to the other side. He pressed his advantage, stepping closer and cleaving its head open.

Before the body could fall, he shoved it back and into the feet of the other skeletons. They all stumbled backward, a mess of clattering limbs and steel, Roan leaping atop of them and slashing down as fast as he could. Bone splinters flew around him as the two of them tried to fight back, but he overwhelmed them with speed and ferocity.

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