The first beast was wounded—but far from dead.
It thrashed in a frenzy of pain, a hurricane of blind destruction.
To Artur, that was opportunity.
A wounded predator is a predictable predator.
He circled it, limping, breath shallow and ragged, waiting for the right moment.
In its agony, Alpha exposed its flank. The wound in its abdomen poured dark blood, and in a crude attempt to shield it, the creature shifted—tilting just enough to bare the back of its head and neck.
The nape.
Where spine meets skull.
A point of death in nearly every creature that has ever walked the earth.
Artur didn't hesitate.
Ignoring the white-hot knives in his ribs and leg, he ran.
It was ugly. Uneven.
But it was enough.
He vaulted onto the hood of a wrecked car and launched himself onto the creature's broad back. It was like landing on a moving slab of stone. He clawed at the ridges of its carapace, boots scrambling for purchase.
Alpha felt the added weight and convulsed violently. Artur nearly lost his grip.
He held on.
Climbing.
The axe head clanged uselessly against armor as he dragged himself higher.
He reached the base of the skull.
He raised the axe. Wind lashed around him as the monster bucked and roared. He aligned the strike, gathering the last fragments of his strength.
With a scream swallowed by the beast's thunder—
he brought the axe down.
The blade drove into the junction between neck and skull.
A horrific sound split the air.
A wet crack—like lightning splitting a tree.
The spinal column severed.
The creature's roar cut off mid-bellow.
Its colossal body went rigid for a single, suspended second.
Then—
the mountain fell.
Artur was hurled forward as the monster collapsed. He tumbled down its neck and slammed onto the asphalt. The impact stole his breath, but adrenaline kept him conscious.
He stared at the enormous carcass.
Still.
Dead.
He had done the impossible.
There was no time to celebrate.
The other two Alphas—silent observers until now—began to advance.
And his axe—
his only weapon, his only hope—
was buried deep in the fallen monster's skull, wedged between vertebrae and thick carapace.
"No…" he gasped.
He dragged himself toward the corpse's head, his leg a blaze of white agony. He seized the axe handle and pulled.
It didn't budge.
Stuck.
The second Alpha was thirty meters away.
Twenty.
He planted his feet, the good leg bearing most of his weight, and pulled with the strength of desperation. The hickory shaft groaned under the strain. Sweat streamed down his face.
He could feel the molten gaze of the second beast on him.
Ten meters.
With a final scream of effort, he twisted and yanked at once.
The blade tore free with a sickening, sucking sound.
Too late.
He had only a second to turn.
The second Alpha was upon him.
No time to raise the axe.
No time to dodge.
He could only throw up his arms in a futile defense.
The creature's massive head struck him.
He wasn't thrown.
He was swept aside.
A heartbeat later the monster was at his side, jaws opening—not to bite, but to trap.
The tusks did not pierce.
They clamped around his injured leg.
Pain detonated.
It went beyond anything he had ever known—an explosion of agony that erased thought, erased sound, erased everything.
He felt the bone of his tibia crack—
then split—
a sound he heard not only in his ears, but in his soul.
The creature lifted him like a dog shaking a rag doll—
and flung him.
The world spun in a blur of pain and purple sky.
He landed twenty meters away, striking the pavement with the force of discarded flesh. His head snapped against the ground.
Darkness swallowed him for a moment.
When he surfaced, he was lying in a pool of his own blood.
His right leg—
was wrong.
Bent at an angle no human limb should ever know.
The broken bone had torn through skin. The sight of his own white tibia protruding from torn flesh made him retch.
He was broken.
Truly broken.
He looked toward the axe, lying several meters away.
It might as well have been a lifetime.
The second Alpha approached slowly.
Molten eyes locked on him.
The task nearly complete.
His victory over the first beast—
had cost him everything.