Sci-Fi Shorts

Only the Bonely

He grinned at her. "Maxilla, my dear. So lovely to see you. What brings you to my boneyard at this late hour?"

She raised her chin defiantly. "I'm hunting. Not that it's any of your concern."

"Everything that happens in the boneyard is my concern, my dear. The giveaway is in the title - Lord of the Boneyard. It's particularly my concern when I'm being shot with a crossbone. Although I have to say that if that's the best you can do, it don't impress me much."

"My apologies. I was after a warthog, and you happened along. It was an easy mistake to make."

Marsbergen threw back his head and roared with laughter. It was so genuine and infectious that Maxilla began to smile, despite her best efforts to resist. Then, with shocking suddenness, the laughter stopped and the whip cracked. Fire burned across her cheek and she was flung to the ground. She looked up to find the Lord of the Boneyard towering over her.

"I do so love a sense of humour," he commented, mildly. "But I love cowering terror and absolute, quaking submission even more." He raised the whip. "Let's work on those, shall we?"

"Wait!" she cried, desperately. "Wait until I show you what I found. You won't believe it."

Marsbergen sighed. "You'd better not be wasting my valuable whipping time, young lady. Alright, where is this mystery item?"

"In my bag." She felt sick to the pit of her stomach. Letting Marsbergen know she had the artefact was a little like letting a rabid elephant know you had a peanut. But to stand any chance of getting away, she had to distract the bastard somehow. There was no other way.

"Fine. You may show me whatever this thing is, but try anything and you lose an eye. Reach into your bag, slowly."

Maxilla's fingers fumbled through the assorted bones that half-filled her bag, until she located the object. Slowly, she held it up into the harsh glare of the spotlight.

Marsbergen's eyes widened. "No," he breathed. "It can't be. It can't possibly be. I've searched for years. It's a myth."

Maxilla waggled the object invitingly. "It's no myth. It took me years, but I found it."

Slowly, Marsbergen reached for it. His eyes were glazed and a glistening trail of drool ran from the corner of his mouth. "I must have it. Give it to me."

Just as his fingertips brushed the object, his face rapt with awe, Maxilla arched her back and delivered a tremendous full body kick to Marsbergen's crotch. For a few momentous seconds, nothing happened. Then his glazed eyes widened slightly, the whip and her crossbow fell from his grasp, he uttered a single high-pitched squeak and then toppled over like a tree.

Maxilla was up in an instant. She stuffed the object back into her bag, retrieved the pelvis from Marsbergen's, snatched up her crossbone and fired at the spotlight as she broke into a run. She was gratified to hear the sound of glass breaking and to be enveloped once again in welcoming darkness.

Confused shouts could be heard from the direction of the spotlight, while a high pitched keening pierced the night. It took her a moment to realise it was coming from MadMike. Her foot ached from the impact of the kick, so she could only begin to imagine the pain he must be in. She stifled a giggle and put all of her effort into running and all of her attention into weaving between the shadowy heaps and windrows of bones that lay between her and escape.

Through the cool night air, the sounds of pursuit could clearly be heard from behind her. But on a dark night, with a head start and a body full of adrenaline, Maxilla knew there was nobody in New Bonedonia who was a match for her. Gradually the sounds of pursuit faded and eventually even Marsbergen's wailing could no longer be heard.