Gg Kk couldn't walk, but if he leaned on Dak Ulu he was fine. At least we didn't need a stretcher to carry him. We didn't have a stretcher.
We left the small clearing we had cut away and set up camp, and continued through the dense understory of the forest. We hacked our way through with machetes and trumpetswords.
Single file.
We tried to be quiet, of course, for fear of the Flingellans, but Gg Kk's sick murmurations weren't particularly helpful in this regard. We had removed the lice, but the lice-delirium would remain at least for a day, according to Doctor Jj.
No matter, anyway – nothing to be done. Nobody knew how the Flingellans worked, or what they saw or heard, but it seemed as if they didn't operate on human frequencies. Infrared, infrasound, ultraviolet or ultrasound. All just speculation.
But at least we could hear them on human frequencies. A rustling up ahead. Five seconds of rustle, then stop. Two seconds of rustle, then stop. A flash and a clap – then thwop – something like bright lightning coming towards us. Fire. Everywhere above. Fire dribbling down from the canopy above us, raining down and sticking. A Flingellan firecracker.
This is a five-minute freewrite based on the prompt cracker.
It is a continuation; previous instalments can be found at part 1 and part 2.
