Coming to the conclusion that it was either do it or die since she had just pissed the Vikings off, she had nothing left to lose. She didn’t think the Vikings had cannibalistic tendencies, but the grey and black ones were looking at her like they were starving.
Holding the rod in the middle, she started swishing it around crazily in the air to make the Olggans stay back. Sadly, she couldn’t resist the instinct to squeeze her eyes closed again. Then, fighting against the instinct unsuccessfully, her eyes flew open a second after hearing the crunch of bones.
She was so going to die.
Chapter 8
Raine
Why hadn’t she kept them closed?
The Olggans’ attention was no longer focused on using a net to catch her. Claws were arching toward the portion of her chest where her heart was. Taking a backward step, Raine continued swinging out wildly with the metal rod, trying to avoid getting her chest ripped open.
“Stay back,” she warned in a shrill voice. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t get back.”
Unable to understand the words coming from the Olggans, she kept swinging, retreating until she found herself backed up against a crumbled brick wall, drawing them away from a splayed-out, unconscious Skars. The wall like a hard shove would topple it over on her, she tried to edge to the side and found another Olggan blocking her way.
Cornered, she stopped swinging and started poking them with the rod. As frightened as she was, none of the Vikings were close enough to help. Skars had groggily managed to get to his feet and was fighting the one wearing the silver headpiece while trying to move closer to her. The other Vikings, other than Ulf, had their hands full.
Realizing there was no one but herself to save her, she stabbed forward with the rod, aiming for the chest of the Olggan set on repaying her for its injured hand. Raine barely managed to remain in place when she felt herself jerked forward when the darn thing tried to pull the rod away from her.
“Don’t let it touch you!” Skars warned.
If she weren’t so busy fighting for her life, she would have rolled her eyes at him. Didn’t the rod she was using to poke at the black and grey alien already give a big hint that she didn’t want to be touched? Regretting not asking Ulf if she could borrow the extra ax hanging from his waist, that might have been a bigger hint when, like the Vikings, she started chopping off body parts. Squeamish, she had to turn her head when Skars dismembered two Olggans while fighting the one Ulf said was their king.
Feeling the rod sinking into flesh, Raine jerked her head back to see the one in front of her bent down with the rod sticking out of its stomach. It took all her willpower to pull the rod back out as red blood spilled out. Please don’t pass out, please don’t pass out, she pleaded with herself.
Fighting back lightheadedness, she reached out to brace herself against the fragile wall.
A brick falling at her feet had her skittishly running forward with the rod. The Olggan must have been stunned at her courageously running at them. They must have become frightened by her skill with the rod, because the aliens leaped to the side, out of her way. They were unaware the only thing that frightened her more than being eaten was being crushed to death.
Hearing more bricks fall, Raine gave a high-pitched squeal of fright, running past them as they stared at her like she was deranged.
Not knowing what to do to keep herself from getting killed, she ran to Skars’ side, knocking one of the Olggans aside that he had been fighting.
“They’re going to eat me!” she gasped out.
Giving her a strange look, he jerked the rod away from her. Nearly hysterical, she completely lost it when she realized the other end of the rod was attached to the alien she had knocked aside.
“I’m going to pass out.” Grabbing his arm, she fought the swirling darkness.
“No, you’re not.” Taking her arm firmly, he gave her a shake. “Go back to Ulf.”
“No, I have to protect you,” she refused, managing to get a hold of herself and stopping the high-pitched screaming coming from her throat.
“Can I have your ax? You can keep the rod,” she offered magnanimously.
Somehow, the Olggans must have understood what she had said, and with what she swore were frightened glances, they began distancing themselves from her. All except the king, who was trying to knock Skars’ ax out of his hand with a lethal-looking sword.
“Are the others giving up?” she asked hopefully. Surely, Skars would be able to take the king now that it was one on one.
“Neinn, they think you are a witch and will bring bad luck.”