I moved and straightened up quickly.
Even so, I received a bite on the arm from the cockroach before I could do anything, and fresh blood came out of my arm.
If I hadn't reacted in time, they would have torn my arm off.
—Arrrgh! —I cursed silently, frowning hard, trying to keep calm while swinging the knife that was in the other hand.
But at the last moment, the cockroach suddenly moved and slightly turned its torso to the right.
The blade didn't reach its head, but slipped to the concave point where the armor plates joined and, instead, hit one of them in the center, sliding helplessly over the adamantine chitin.
Instead of killing the beast with a decisive blow, I ended up causing no damage at all.
Worse yet, I was unprotected. The next moment, the cockroach hit me hard with its shell, throwing me away.
I flew sideways and crashed against the maze wall, feeling myself running out of breath. Suffocated and disoriented, I fell ungracefully into the mud.
By instinct, I rolled to one side. Something passed by my side and hit the wall, causing pieces of earth to fly through the air. Then, it rose into the air and was thrown backward.
But by then, I had already regained my common sense.
I turned my body and managed to land on my feet and take a few steps back without falling. The next second, my knife was in front of me, held with both hands as I had learned in the scout corps.
The cockroach was already charging at me with a threatening fire burning in its eyes.
Energy flowed from the knife to my hand, then spread to my arm, shoulder, and finally covered my entire body. I instantly felt stronger, faster, more resistant.
But was it enough? No. To survive, I would also need some luck.
A claw-like leg flew at me from the right, the other from the left. There was no time to back away or dodge to the sides.
So, instead, I did something that made every instinct in my body scream in protest.
I jumped forward, shortening the distance with the attacking monster. The claws crashed together with a loud crack behind my back.
Instinct or not, it was the only logical step. After all, the knife's attack range was much shorter than the cockroach's. I could only counterattack by getting closer.
Before the beast had time to react, I did what I had done miles of times before. My muscles moved even before my mind gave the order.
With a fluid motion, I raised the sword above my head and cut down, pushing with one hand while pulling with the other. My entire body moved in unison to deliver a powerful blow.
The knife whistled as it cut through the air. Then, it hit the joint of one of the cockroach's front legs and went through it, severing the limb completely. Blue blood spread everywhere.
I had less than a second to be surprised.
But there was no time for distractions. Due to the loss of its front leg, the cockroach lost balance for a moment, falling forward and down. However, it had five other legs. This wasn't going to last long.
But coincidentally, at that precise moment, its other front leg slipped in the mud, sinking the monster even further.
Without wasting this opportunity, I stepped forward, raised the knife, and drove it into the cockroach's mouth. A severed jaw fell to the ground as the monster impaled itself on the knife with its own weight.
The creature's body convulsed before going still.
It was dead.
I exhaled slowly, feeling only now the pain in my chest and neck. I carefully touched my head and winced. My hand became wet with blood.
—At least I'm alive.
I raised my head abruptly and realized there were no more cockroaches.
The monsters possessed certain rudimentary intelligence, but they couldn't compare to humans. In essence, they remained predators that acted primarily on instinct. Their cunning was of a bestial nature and wasn't so difficult to overcome. That gave me the chance to live another day.
Memories of my time in the Scout Corps surfaced as I prepared to refill the buckets. Our main task had been hunting mutants, extraordinary creatures capable of absorbing energy and creating their own cores, objects of incalculable value.
Mutants cores had an unlimited number of uses, which made them very valuable and highly sought after. Of course, the higher the grade of mutants cores, the more valuable they were.
Mutants were classified from grade F —like the cockroaches that attacked me— up to the legendary SS-grade monsters, although the latter were more myth than proven reality.
Although cockroaches were cataloged as grade F, these mutants could easily resist attacks from a grade D hunter just because of their shell.
As a general rule, one should always assume that mutants are stronger than humans of the same category.
Simply because, even if we remove energy from the equation, a mutant's physical body was much stronger than that of an average human.
The underground shelter, although dangerous, was manageable if proper precautions were taken. The more powerful mutants inhabited the depths of the caves, while the shelter's perimeter was well mapped and relatively safe for grade E hunters like me.
I would need three trips to fill the house's water tank. The aquifer was far away, as areas where water could be found in the shelter were quite rare.
The full buckets were very heavy, although I was injured I lifted them as I always did. If I didn't do it, my son and I would die of dehydration.
If the buckets were bigger, I could make fewer trips, I thought as I lifted them. Wouldn't that be easier?
Since my husband's death, the weight of maintaining the family had become overwhelming, but as a mother, I had accepted this responsibility without complaining.
As I prepared to return home, a chill ran down my spine. At first it was barely perceptible, a slight vibration under my feet that soon intensified.
Suddenly, the earth began to shake violently. My body staggered and the water buckets tipped over, soaking the ground and creating a muddy mess under my feet as I instinctively crouched down.
The tension was palpable in the air, and fear began to sprout in my heart when my ears caught a sound similar to breaking wood.
—A scream?
I muttered to myself, trying to convince myself it was just my imagination.
The sound reminded me of a strangled bird, but deep inside, I knew it couldn't be any bird's song.
An icy chill ran down my back as I tried to rationalize what I had just heard.
It couldn't be a human voice.
I tried to erase my uneasiness with these thoughts, but then they vanished when a louder sound resonated in the air once more.
My heart skipped a beat in my chest. There was no mistake: it was a human scream.
Without thinking twice, my hunter instincts took control. The tremors, though not common, represented a real threat in the underground shelter, and I began running toward the origin of the screams.
My legs were moving faster than they ever had before, so much so that I feared tripping over my own feet. The screams and howls became clearer as I got closer, each sound more chilling than the last.
My heart was beating wildly against my ribs, but I couldn't stop.
Something terrible was happening, and although fear threatened to paralyze me, my legs kept moving forward, toward those sounds that became increasingly clear in the darkness of the shelter.