“No!” Azandrae reached out to the gator with her hand open, as if she could somehow alter the events before her, and stop the beast from devouring her only hope in this hopeless world. Her hand dropped limp. How would she find her mother now? How would she save her townsfolk from the depravity of those who stole them away? She didn’t have the strength. She wasn’t a fighter.

  The overgrown alligator started to sway back and forth in the water, heading straight for its next meal. Blood oozed from its wounded eye; the untainted eye fixated on her, nothing but death left in its head.

  She couldn’t fight, but she couldn’t end her journey here. Knight or no knight, she had to push on.

  Frantically, she looked around, searching for anything to help her. She couldn’t swim to the bank, the water stretched too far out in every direction. She would be a gator snack in an instant, just like the bck knight she only briefly began to know.

  A rope was floating nearby; she only had moments to think. She grabbed the rope and began fiddling around in the water, tying the rope to an oar hold. She unraveled the rope, stood on the opposite edge of the skiff from where the gator was approaching, and wrapped it around her hand several times.

  She stared down the reptile, her hard gaze boring into its one good eye. Her bored breathing froze for a second as she anticipated the gator. It was almost upon her now, mouth opening, the massive maw and jagged teeth inviting her in for a stay.

  “Come get some, motherfucker!” She yelled while leaning backwards, tugging on the rope with all her might.

  The gator smmed into the side of the skiff, jerking the edge upwards. Chunks of wood splintered all around. The skiff toppled up and back down into the water, nding right-side up. Azandrae spshed down in the water, a scaly rough body rubbing against her under the water’s surface, twisting her around the murky algae-infested water.

  She pushed with her feet, unching herself to the surface again, still holding the rope. She pulled herself to the side of the skiff, yanking up with all her might. Her arms burned as hot as her lungs as she huffed and puffed, spping her wet body down into the skiff.

  The steam engine was submerged, leaking murky river water out of the engine and onto the skiff’s floor. She wasn’t going to flee anytime soon, unless she paddled with the strength of an entire Viking ship. She gnced around, trying to find anything.

  The old rusty revolver was caught in a shirt, wrapped up before her under the seat. She snagged the old gun and stood, rocking the skiff back and forth. Her head swiveled around, hunting for the gator.

  There it was, staring at her, making another pass at her. This time, she had nothing left to do. She couldn’t run. There were no more ideas coursing through her head. The skiff would only st so long under the gator’s onsught. She did all she could.

  Azandrae aimed the gun at the gator, pulling back the hammer and squeezing the trigger. The gun clicked, but nothing happened. She shook some water out of the barrel, pulling back the hammer again. Click. Nothing.

  The gator swam closer.

  She pulled back again, firing again. Boom. Water erupted next to the gator’s head.

  “Shit.” She fumbled around, pulling the hammer back again. She aimed right for its good eye, hoping to get off a round and blinding the creature. Boom. The bullet crashed against its nose, blood spurting out of the new wound.

  The gator opened its maw yet again, those jagged teeth coming right for her. She held the gun with both hands, trying to steady her trembling hands. The skiff rocked back and forth under her feet. She hadn’t fired a gun in ages, and now her life depended on it. She had the eye in her sights. It was now or never.

  Her mother’s words came to her, “Remember, dear, when all hope seems lost, you are never beaten as long as you still breathe.”

  She took a deep breath, focusing in on her target. Click. Silence.

  Azandrae’s throat dropped into her chest as she swallowed. This was it. She never thought end up as gator food. She whispered a prayer to Samdei, begging to be taken swiftly and spared an eternity in the gator’s gut.

  The gator let loose a roar as it reeled backwards. Something came jutting from its underside. A bck bde burst through the scaly white belly of the beast, followed by a bck gauntlet, gripping the freshly torn flesh.

  Rigor burst forth, ripping his way out of the beast’s gullet, spilling into the water, along with a plethora of other beasts, half decayed, missing limbs, baying into the sky as they floated downstream. Their flesh was burnt and half-digested as they thrashed about the river. Some sank into the hazy river, disappearing into the murk, while others stayed afloat. Their cries cutting deep into Azandrae’s ears.

  She cupped her ears and watched as the bck knight grabbed the massive gator and held tight as it twisted about, water and blood sprayed everywhere. He climbed up to its head, pressing his axe underneath its jowls and pulling tight. The axe bde cut deep into the alligator’s neck, and Rigor twisted and jerked swiftly to the right, slicing the gator’s throat clean open.

  Blood sprayed out, smattering all over Azandrae and the skiff.

  Rigor Morits dropped the gator’s body and let it float downstream along with its half-digested meals. The gator slowed until its body went limp.

  Azandrae wiped her eyes clear of blood as Rigor Mortis climbed up into the boat, rocking the thing sideways, almost tipping it again. She rinsed herself in the water as he sat back down in his spot, pcing the bck executioner’s axe across his p.

  The skiff sat still, slowly drifting downstream. Crickets, frogs, cicadas, all chirped about like nothing had happened, going about their simple lives in ignorance of man. The sun still beamed down on the river.

  Rigor stared at the woman as she washed off her head and wiped down her clothes. She took a moment to mess with the steam engine, feeling Rigor’s eyes burning into the back of her head.

  Water dripped profusely from his armor, leaking from all its cracks and crevices. A pool of murky river water formed beneath him.

  “Well, this thing’s toast.” She smmed it with her fist, looking back into those milky dead eyes, “Looks like we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.” She grabbed some oars and untied it from the side of the skiff, pcing them into the holders.

  She took a deep breath and began to row, propelling the boat downstream. “You know, this would go a lot faster if you helped.” She raised an eyebrow, hoping the man would pitch in.

  Rigor Mortis sat unmoving, silent.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She sighed, saving her breath for rowing, wondering if the bck knight before her would ever speak, or if he even had a voice. At least her secret weapon was still upright. She would need him if she was going to take on whoever stole her mother away.

  “By the way, my friends call me Az.” She smiled. At least her hope wasn’t gone after all.

  Rigor’s head nodded ever so slightly that she thought it was just the boat rocking, but even the slightest of acknowledgement from him filled her with pride. Maybe she would become a fighter after all.

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