Pull Your Weight

Thorn and his team ride out for supplies, bringing Halo along to collect herbs. They dismount their horses at the edge of a meadow. They’re near the forest, sunlight filters through the canopy of leaves in shifting patterns. The air smells of damp earth and the faint sweetness of wildflowers. 
          Halo shifts the straps of her yellow backpack, trying to keep it from jostling too much. Inside, Rubble squirms. 
          “Do you have to keep the jars right next to my face?” he complains, his voice muffled. 
          “I’m supposed to be collecting herbs, so yes,” Halo fires back under her breath, brushing an orange strand of hair out of her face. 
          “I can’t believe you got yourself into this mess.” 
          “I panicked, okay?” she whispers. Her green eyes flick nervously toward the others, who are busy scavenging, pulling leaves and roots from the undergrowth. “Do you know anything about plants, Rubble?” When the team looks away, she kneels quickly and tugs the zipper open just enough for Rubble’s blue-lit eyes to peek out. She holds up a sprig. 
          “It appears this one can be mixed with yucca root,” he observes.  
          “To make medicine?” she asks hopefully.  
          “No. To make yucca root taste better.” His tone is dry, mechanical.  
          “Ugh.” Halo drops onto a patch of moss with a thud, exasperated. She holds up a pale mushroom next. “What about this one?”  
          “That one is toxic.”  
          “How toxic?” She rubs her chin as if weighing the options. 
          “On a scale of one to dead? Yes.” 
          Halo groans and pinches the bridge of her nose. 
          “Find anything?” Thorn’s voice comes from directly behind her. 
          She yelps and zips the backpack shut in a blur, heart hammering. 
          “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Thorn raises a hand, his expression neutral. 
          “Oh, it’s fine,” she says with a laugh that comes out too high-pitched. She rises quickly, brushing dirt from her trousers. “Nothing good yet.” 
          A shout cuts through the meadow. “Skelloid over there!” 
          The team gathers, hands on weapons. Far across the field, a skeletal figure drifts aimlessly between the trees, its movements jerky and unfocused. 
          “It’s orange,” Halo says, her voice edged with surprise. 
          “Yeah,” Benji, one of the riders with a cowboy hat replies. “Less of a threat than the red ones.” He says while sticking a piece of straw in his mouth. 
          Halo’s brows knit. “Oh… so does that mean the green ones are even less aggressive?” She remembers the towering figure that had crouched to peer at her in the forest, its gaze more curious than violent. 
          Benji stares at her. “Green?” he asks incredulously. “Green ones don’t exist.” 
          “What?” Halo blinks. 
          “There’s only red, orange, and yellow.” 
          “You sure do have an imagination,” He laughs, shaking his head while he turns back to his scavenging. Halo goes quiet, her pulse quickening. 
          Green Skelloids don’t exist? It was dark, and I was tired. It must’ve actually been yellow. 
          Halo lingers, unsettled. The memory of the green Skelloid gnaws at her. 
          The others crowd near the stream, laughing at a ridiculous mushroom shaped like a butt. Their voices echo through the trees, leaving Halo a moment to slip away a little further. 
          Half-buried under dirt and leaves, she spots a broken android. Its metal frame is mottled with rust, vines twined through its joints, but parts of it might be salvageable. The arm and chest plate still look intact. She kneels beside it and leans her open backpack so Rubble can see. “Can we use this to help fix you?” she whispers. 
          “That should work, yes!” Rubble’s voice carries excitement. 
          “Okay. We’ll come back for it later, when no one’s around.” 
          Suddenly, the rustle of grass and leaves shifts close behind her. Halo stiffens. 
          Thorn must be suspicious. It feels like he’s been watching me all day. 
          She pulls out a random jar as if that had been her only goal and zips the bag shut. Clearing her throat, she turns, bracing for Thorn’s sharp questions. 
          But it isn’t Thorn. 
          An orange Skelloid walks so close past her its hulking mass stirs the around her, whipping strands of her hair against her cheeks. She looks up, she's so close she can’t even see it’s face, just its ribs that glisten faintly. It’s much taller than the green or even yellow one. It continues on, each footfall slightly shaking the ground near her. 
          It doesn’t look at her. Doesn’t even pause. 
          Her heart pounds in her ears. Why didn’t it see me? 
          “Halo, we’re coming!” her team shouts through the trees. 
          The orange Skelloid jerks its head toward the sound, its hollow eye sockets blazing with rage. It lets out a guttural roar, as if ready to charge. 
          Thorn, Benji, and the others burst into the clearing. The creature swings an arm the size of a tree trunk, clipping Thorn, who barely ducks in time. He drives his spear forward, the tip plunging into the Skelloid’s side. It lets out a shriek that rattles Halo’s teeth. 
          Benji rushes in but his strike is swatted aside, his weapon spinning across the ground. Gunfire cracks from the back ranks, bullets sink into the Skelloid’s slime, trapped inside it with no effect. The monster doesn’t even slow. 
          Thorn ducks under another massive swipe and makes a precise thrust at the creature’s knee joint. Bone shatters. The towering figure stumbles, collapsing onto its side with an impact that shakes the ground. Even downed, it thrashes, arms sweeping through the air with lethal force. One slime-coated hand closes around Thorn. He grunts, struggling, as the creature lifts him up, its grip tightening. The Skelloid drags him closer to its gaping jaws, slime dripping in strings. 
          “No!” Halo surges forward. She snatches Benji’s dropped spear and sprints. In three strides she vaults onto the Skelloid’s ribcage, scrambling up the slick side of its body. Its head jerks toward her, hollow sockets narrowing at her. 
          She doesn’t hesitate. Halo drives the spear straight into its eye socket. 
          The monster’s scream is deafening, shaking Halo off as its entire body convulses. It slumps forward, collapsing into the dirt, its grasp loosening on Thorn. He falls free, gasping for breath as slime drips from his arms and shoulders. 
          The others rush in, surrounding him, checking for wounds. Halo’s chest heaves for breath, her braids sticking to her damp cheeks. 
          Thorn looks at her in shock while rubbing his sore arms. “You’ve proved yourself useful in battle,” gratitude lingers in his voice. 
          Halo’s lips curl into a smile. For once, she feels like she did something right. 
          “That’s enough excitement for today,” Thorn says, gesturing toward the trees. “Let’s go home.” The team gathers, retrieving weapons and helping Thorn toward the horses, leaving the carcass of the Skelloid dripping behind them.