Fingers flexed. Roaches crawled over exposed skin. The few remaining strands of hair on her eviscerated scalp signaled pain. Fingers wiggled. Eyes darted to the shards. Back tensed. Wiggling in place only made her sink deeper. The muck coating her legs wouldn’t allow movement. Her left side pushed into the soil so that her check was nearly wedged into the ground. Shoulder tensed to pull her arm only to pop painfully. This ground was soft and wet moments ago, flowing even. How could it hold her this firmly?

  Pottery shards rested at the base of her right wrist. Her arm barely extended from the mudslide like a little tower. Dirt pushed around her body. It encased her more tightly. Wiggling her feet proved impossible. Circe squinted and shouted hoarsely. The draining mud compacted all the more.

  “This can’t be real! Why help me!? Why let me get this far!? What kind of joke is this!? I can’t take it anymore! I can’t take it. Pleeeeeeease.”

  Sludge gurgled in the distance.

  The silence of the caverns responded.

  “Let me out!”

  If she stayed here, she would die here. She couldn’t even scream; all her protests were whispered croaks.

  Glowing eyes rolled to stare at her hand, the one severed without a chance to heal properly. The half-moon on her forehead flared, then reduced to a gentle glow. It continued pulsing. Tendrils pushed; barely reattached skin pulled as it tore apart. The pale hand flopped. A loose collection of tendrils attached it to the broken arm. Jagged bone pointed at the cavern stalactites. The tendrils firmed, took control.

  Flayed fingers with barely any skin, most missing nails, grasped the biggest shard. She dug at the compacting clay mud. It was wet enough that she had the strength to dig out little clumps and fling them to the side. A small pile of muddy soil formed as a slight bit of her arm was dug free. Roaches at the top of her head supervised the excavation.

  Work continued, for how long she couldn’t even tell. The little pit went deeper down her arm. Murky water seeped into the hole, but she dug blindly anyway. Perhaps if she could get to her elbow and shoulder, free this arm, perhaps then she could do more.

  Then came footsteps. Circe took a few deep breathes through her mouth. The remaining roaches crawled over her. Browns, yellows, dark greens, and blacks blended better than the colors than the colors she’d made earlier. She’d been buffing these roaches as well. But how much would that help? They were still roaches.

  “Rats. I really don’t like them,” Banko adjusted his suit while walking, “Is this really where we’re supposed to be? These are my work clothes. I’m not sure how I feel about ruining them tromping around down here.”

  Nickey stretched, “Fedor evishhcerated those rats. You should have shaved some of the experience for ush.”

  “They are the meat, but not the good meat. I did not have the points from them.”

  Heavy boots sunk into the soft ground as Fedor stomped forward. Water flowed with a gurgling trickle. Drops fell from the ceiling. A few glowing mushrooms along the walls and a dim phosphorescent vein lit the area. The ground sunk under his boots. It didn’t help that he carried Carson on his back. He stopped at the gurgling flowing muck.

  “I can not be going the further, as I am not good with the swimming. But I am very good with the sinking. I’m sorry, it seems I will not be much helping the searching.”

  “I guess your lard butt would sink, wouldn’t it? Well, it was good knowing you. I guess this is where we go our separate ways. Maybe we can meet up again later. You’ll have to keep Carson, he’s no good in this condition.”

  “Da.”

  Nickey put a hand on her hip, “So we’re jusht gonna break up thish party for your hunt? Why are you sho gung ho about it. Let’s get to the surface and live. I’m shick and tired of this shtupid dungeon.”

  Mark kicked at a glowing mushroom, “And you’re going to abandon a massive power reward because of a little stink in a cave? I thought you were some kind of badass assassin in your past life? I didn’t see you do much against those rats. Lardo and me carried the whole team.”

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  “For your information, they weren’t worth my time!”

  Circe grit her teeth from under the cover her roaches. Why wouldn’t these people go away so she could work on digging herself out?

  “We could set up camp here,” Banko suggested.

  “And what would that achieve? There’s nothing of value here and it’s twenty minutes back to the portal.”

  A portal?

  Banko pushed his fingers together, “Well, you see. I don’t know how to swim either. I swim like a hammer. If the water gets deeper than me, I’m done for. And I’m not exactly itching to die in sewage for this quest.”

  Carson weakly raised his hand, “I’m hydrophobic, sorry.”

  Mark flung his palms out, “What the holy hell. Honestly what kind of party did I form here? Because I don’t even know anymore. Brace-face complains about everything. Lardo here can’t stop eating and his obese ass threatens cave-ins. Canadian Kidd is so pathetic he can’t stop apologizing. The only person here who shows any friggen potential is captain jap and his paper pets, but guess what? He can’t swim either! How do we form a party of five people and three of them can’t swim!?”

  “Dude, this isn’t cool, sorry.”

  “And you, don’t get me started on you. Canadian Kidd, the energy drink enthusiast. Is that how you kicked off, overdosing on energy drinks? How the hell do your stats sink to paper doll levels in ten hours!? You’re a liability and if it wasn’t for miss complains a lot, I’d have set you somewhere to die. Because you’re not worth it.”

  “Do what you want.”

  “We’re not letting him die. If we’d jusht go to the surface, we can get supplies. Then he’ll be usheful and he can even continue the hunt if you want to so bad.”

  “By then it’ll be over! And did you not hear Canadian Kidd say he couldn’t swim?”

  “Sorry for being Canadian,” Carson said as he clung to Fedor’s back, “Sorry for wanting to survive. I didn’t decide what my curse would be.”

  Nickey felt the crushed glasses in her pocket, “Why do you want to kill that woman sho badly anyway? Does she remind you of shomeone who dumped you? What about thish girl sets you off to the point that you can’t get her out of your head?”

  Mark’s fingers pushed at his badge, “You think this is some sort of obsession? Is that what you think? Well, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s not. I’m doing what’s best for the team. And what’s best for the team is getting us that big promotion. Why is your heart bleeding for a crazed zombie? That’s the kind of attitude that will get you killed here.”

  Nickey’s fist wrapped around the broken spectacles as she looked away.

  Fedor sniffed as if he smelled something familiar. He stepped toward the edge of the murk where the ground became softer. With his weight he feared becoming stuck. But he spotted an unusual form. The colors were slightly off, like rocks in the mud. The dim light didn’t help, but his keen eyes sensed movement. Insects. Fedor braced and raised his cleaver, but as it swooshed down the roaches parted. The motion of the blade halted before bent into it.

  A bald squinting head with a peeling and broken scalp pushed from the soil. Its nose, broken and bashed inward, bled. Mouth hung open in order to breath. A half-moon pulsed on its forehead bright enough to get the attention of the entire party. Tears streamed down its cheeks. Eyes opened, also having a pulsing glow. It coughed up blood and water.

  “Help me?” Circe croaked.

  The baton unclipped from the belt. Mark smacked it against his palm as he strode forward toward Fedor, “Well, would you look at this? Seems like we don’t even need to swim in this crap after all. We don’t even have to fight. The cave did the work for us. Fortune favors the bold! Am I right!?”

  Carson slid off Fedor’s back. With a push, he stumbled back but remained capable of standing on his own. Sneakers shuffled the muddy floor until his back pressed against a rough wall for support.

  A blubbery arm extended to block the officer from getting any closer.

  “We will not be killing this one today. We will be digging her out.”

  A screen appeared over Fedor’s head. Another appeared over Nickey’s. They both contained the same message.

  Mark snickered, “Don't fall for the innocent act. This is the perfect chance to end this. Let me stomp her brains out. We just need to bring her head. Azoria didn’t say anything about the condition.” He moved quickly. The handle of the cleaver wrapped in Fedor’s meaty fist slammed into the center of his chest. The officer spit as he flew backwards. He lay on his back sprawled across the mud.

  A notice glowed above Fedor’s head.

  Another glowed above Mark’s.

  “Are you sure you want to do this fat man!?” Mark screamed as he quickly pulled himself up, “Because it’s three against one and we’re gonna wear you down!”

  Nickey stepped back.

  “Two against one. I refush to participate.”

  “I understand if the zombie isn’t worth your time, but the brute is easy leveling. Are you with me Banko?”

  Two white origami swans circled Banko as his tie began to levitate, “As you say in America, let’s go level up!”

  Fedor turned, grunted, swapped his cleaver to his right hand.

  Circe dug furiously with her pottery shard.