Pantha girl's Arc

Chapter 4 of 7

Marina reached the ridge and dropped flat. Below her lay the camp, bright with torches. Soldiers ran between tents, shouting her name. Viktor Strand stood at the center, pointing, giving orders. He had seen her face by the ravine, and now the whole camp hunted her. The relic sat in a stone building past the firelight. She felt its pull, cold and sure. She had minutes, maybe less, before they sealed every path. She slid down the slope into the shadows. A patrol crossed near a ruined wall. Marina dropped from a low branch, silent, behind the nearest soldier. She snapped her whip around his rifle and tore it from his hands. He spun, mouth open. She drove her knee into his jaw and he folded. One down. But his fall knocked a lantern from the wall, and glass shattered loud across the yard. Heads turned. Boots pounded toward her. Then the ground shook. A huge shape stepped from between two tents, steel plates grinding, red eyes burning in a skull-shaped helmet. Green fluid pulsed through tubes on his back. This was Madame Viper's hunter, the man she had rebuilt in metal to kill jungle spirits. His gauntlet clicked open, showing steel jaws like a trap. "The spirit-beast's little pet," he said. "I collect things like you." He fired a sonic pulse. The blast threw Marina into the wall. Her ears rang. He stalked closer, jaws spread wide, in no hurry. She rolled aside as the trap slammed shut on empty stone. Her dagger scraped his armor and left no mark. He laughed and swatted her down. She tasted blood. Then the torches dimmed. A growl rolled across the camp like thunder underground. Bagh Raat came out of the dark, a panther made of shadow and moonlight, gold eyes blazing, silver runes glowing on his shoulders. He was her guardian, the spirit who had marked her and bound her to the jungle. The soldiers screamed and ran. The hunter turned, raising his gauntlet. "At last. A real trophy." Bagh Raat lunged. His spectral claws passed through steel and sheared the gauntlet apart. The hunter swung. His fist struck only mist. The panther struck again, and the tubes on the hunter's back burst, spraying green vapor. The great machine staggered, sparks flying from his joints. "Go," Bagh Raat growled. "The relic. Now." Marina ran. She reached the stone building and shoved the door open. The relic waited on a pedestal, a dark stone carved with moons, humming against her palm when she lifted it. The thread in her chest snapped tight and whole. She had it at last. Outside, horns blared. Not alarm now, but command. Through the doorway she saw tall figures in officer's coats striding into the yard, and Viktor shouting toward them. The camp was not scattering. It was closing around her, with the relic now in her hands and no clear way out.