37 - 14 - Fucked Up

I pulled back. Again, threw myself against the pile of stinking gray flesh. Again. Again!

Until the visser reached down with one putrid claw and plucked my fifteen-hundred-pound body off his like a chimpanzee plucking a flea off its belly.

And with a wet spray of foul breath - tossed me against the far wall!

I smashed into the plaster and slid to the floor. My senses were dulled. Fire raced down my back and across my ribs. My front left paw was pulpy and red. But I wasn't dead.

And that's all that mattered.

The window! On the wall above me!

A quick glance around the destroyed room.

(...)

And Visser Three's outrageous morph slowly shrinking.

Time to bail.

I lumbered to my feet. My head spun with the effort. I felt a stream of blood flow down my forehead. And another jab of pain - awful! - down my back where my spine had crashed against the wall.

The window was about seven feet up the wall. The glass and frame had been smashed when we stormed the room.

With effort, I stood on my hind legs. Stepped onto the back of a felled Hork-Bajir. Reached. And with my last ounce of strength hauled my broken body up and across the torn sill.

And tumbled to the litter-strewn ground.

I was out!

We were safe!

<Marco! Ax! Tobias! Where's . . .>