Post Apocalypse: Tyranny & Chimpanzees

2. MEETING

"Pst," Boro stopped.

That means he'd spotted something. That was the sign we'd use whenever one of us saw a game. The other would then concentrate on spotting it.

I'd already noticed it, though. He just beat me to the signal.

No one would miss a wild boar grunting so loudly as it ate.

He slowly lowered his stance, readying his arm to throw his spear. So stealthily, as if blending in with the movement of the trees.

Boro could throw a spear with more force than any other person I've seen. I've not seen up to a hundred people in my entire life, but that doesn't make him any less impressive.

He tossed the spear, which sank into the boar's flank with a whoosh! Before it squealed in agony.

Nailed it! Now we chase it till it bleeds out and gets exhausted. A piece of cake from this point.

Except it didn't run -away. It locked eyes with me and charged.

Hold on, why me?

"Servile. Run."

You don't need to tell me. I was already on my heels. Boro dodged in the other direction as the boar passed him and threw his second spear into the other side of it's flank.

It was still hell bent on killing me for some reason.
I swiftly made my way up a tree's trunk, safe from the reach of the boar.

Just as I was about to ready my spear to impale the beast's eye, I was absolutely taken off guard when the boar, without so much as a second thought, charged into the tree, dislodging me from it.

"Servile! Hey, numbskull, over here!" Boro screamed my name in alarm, trying to get the boar's attention.

I tried to sit up, but rolled on my side instead, clutching the arm I'd fallen on.

Crap, I hope it didn't break. I've seen someone's broken arm cease functioning and rot from the inside out, and the thought terrified me.

With Boro reminding the beast of his presence, it twirled around to look at him, standing by my side like it was guarding it's breakfast.

But when Boro raised the familiar spear, the boar grunted angrily and gave chase.

Thnk!

The boar suddenly stopped awkwardly, falling over limply.

"Where did that arrow come from?" Boro stared at the short, wooden tailless pole that impaled the boar's skull.

"There's an Archer somewhere." I reasoned. "They'd have to be extremely strong and accurate to kill a boar instantly."

On that note, I clutched my arm more tightly and groaned.

Boro extracted one of his spears from the boar and held his dagger in the other hand, glancing once again at the boar's head like he couldn't believe his eyes, before turning to the direction from whence the projectile was shot.

He was usually pretty darn overcautious at times.

Our gazes were fixed in the direction where we heard the rustling of leaves from someone's movement, and much to a surprise, instead of a burly man, the person who emerged from the trees had a small, slender, feminine figure in a hooded cloak with a pouch strapped over their shoulder.

They neither had the physical strength to fire an arrow with such power, but had a tool that could.

A girl. Quite obviously, her stature and voice gave that away. And she had a crossbow. She wore a cloak that covered her entire body, and a good that concealed her face in it's shadow.

One glance at the eyes that seemed to glow from her invisible face, and you'll know she's not the age she looks.

She raised her head and puffed her chest out a bit.

"Sup."