“Hello?” She’d shouted it this time and not a peep beyond her echo returned to her. On the floor by a reclining chair were a sixer of beer, a jug of orange juice, and a bag of chips. The chip bag felt very different to her memory. She sat down and dug in. Another remote was on the armrest of the chair and she dared to hit POWER once again. This time a huge screen came down from the ceiling and a menu of words lit. The options were to select either DISC, DISC COPY, or each letter of the alphabet. She looked at the remote and hit the second biggest button: ENTER.
She ate the chips, drank the beer, and experienced the glory of Thelma and Louise.
That was hours earlier. Since then, she’d had her family gathered, had them widen the gap by smashing rock to rock, and then introduced them to future living, introduced the before times place—none understood a contradiction in the explanation. She explained beds and the can opener and the importance of blocking the strange door with stones. She couldn’t get it to open, but that didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t on the far side. The shape and fabrication of the door reminded her of World War II submarine pictures.
Once the family sat down for a meal of fruit cocktail, Jane listened to the news of David Bowie Bowtie. He’d always been a strong-willed boy.
She had to sleep on it, was too drunk to make a clear decision.
Time hadn’t mattered in so long, but the clock next to the bed she shared with the sex robot, told her it was after five in the morning. She stepped out, the lights already on as everyone kept whatever hours they wanted, something like Pan’s Lost Boys, and she called for Doobie.
“You must follow David Bowie Bowtie. Go alone. Be careful. Stay alert. He will likely be eaten on the bad side, but if he’s not, you cannot let him get all the way out. Let him die on his own, if possible, but do not let him leave the bad side alive.”
Doobie did not argue. He’d seen members of his family die in numerous ways, better brother-children and sister-children than David Bowie Bowtie. Ending him or watching him die would bring about no grief.
3
Wednesday, April 30, 2019: 7:49AM
Though he’d never tried it with a mushroom that large, David made quick work of toppling one of the fungi a few feet from the river that stretched a radius close to ten feet. The stems had hard outer cores and much softer, though not weaker, middles. He used a rock at about chest level and slammed it repeatedly, walking in a circle. Once he’d made a thick groove all the way around, he attacked one side until the cap began to lean. Quickly then, he charged up the stem as if he had climbing picks instead of bare feet, reached up into the fins beneath, and monkey-swung to the furthest leaning point. The cap tumbled slowly and touched the ground with David still inside the fins.
He popped out. “Gouge the soft bit still holding.”
Stevie took the initiative and began forcing a foot-long chunk of torn sheet metal into the stem, sawing the rubbery contents. It took some time, but the mushroom fell before Stevie had worked up a real sweat.
Together, they pivot-rolled the cap to the lip of the river and then tipped it over. Dick had suggested it would float them no trouble, but even David was skeptical—also, he wished for a safer way out than to go into the bad side.
The cap slipped into the river and Dick held the edge. “Okay, put some weight into it.” He looked to Peter and Stevie.
Emily moved first. It didn’t even bob. Peter climbed in, then Stevie and Tanya.
“You better go in next,” David said. The others had distributed themselves somewhat evenly. All wore coats of orange. “I can jump and you’re very wrinkled and heavy.”
Dick was not very heavy, but he certainly wasn’t about to have any pictures taken of him with his shirt off. He agreed without offering any lessons on political correctness or decent polite conversation—what was the point?—and climbed in.
The cap had dipped about a foot with all their weight, but remained at an agreeable height. David let go and instantly, the cap started to move. He backed up and was about to jump when Dick shouted, “Ah, the damned paddles!”
They’d found planks of wood that appeared to have come from someone’s ancient toolshed. Both were about five feet long and had useful knotholes to work as handles. David spun around to search the shore. Both lay over by the broken stem. Worms had come out quickly, as if smelling the mushroom’s innards, and breached the mossy floor by the dozens.
David tiptoed through them—to step on a worm was messy business—grabbed the boards, and leapt over near the shore. The cap was really moving and David had to run along the shore.
“Come on! Come on!” Tanya waved, maybe to catch a plank, maybe to keep David motivated.
He threw the first plank and it landed in the water and floated at a quarter of the speed of the mushroom cap. Immediately, it was too far behind and out of Peter’s reach at the stern of the cap.
“Don’t miss with this one,” Dick called out, an obvious point.
David stopped and planted his feet. His aim was true and the board clunked off the jutting stem and then off Tanya’s face when she tried to catch it.
“Now you, let’s go! Let’s go!” Emily was excited and smiling.
David broke, ran ten steps, and then leapt, his naked body draping over Emily. She was laughing then and Stevie was unimpressed.
“Get off her.” Stevie tugged on David’s shoulder and he rolled.
Emily continued laughing, her smile wide, maybe crazy.
“What the hell you laughing at?” Tanya said. Her lip was fat and blood trickled toward her chin.
“It’s like rafting! I go rafting every summer. Me and…” Emily’s smile faltered. If what Peter said happened to the school, her friends were all dead. And then what about her parents? She’d avoided thinking about everything until right then. Those wonderful memories of lazy summer days on the river followed by campouts and roasted weenies and s’mores was the bridge that took her to realization. Those things would never happen the same way they had.
Stevie tried to get closer, climb into the same fin separation as Emily, but couldn’t get his footing. The mushroom rocked and the river ran. It was deep enough that they weren’t snagging, and fast. And cold. The temperature suggested the water ran down from melted snowcaps on the mountains.
Ahead, no more than a minute away, was the dangling mossy curtain that led into the bad place. David’s already pale face seemed to pale further, but he said nothing.
“Here, try to hold aside some of that stuff. Could have bugs in it.” Tanya pushed the plank up to Stevie.
He took it, secured the thumbs and index fingers of his right hand, and held the bottom with his left. Emily was on his right side, so that was the side her forced out of the way. Tanya leaned in the direction. Peter ducked into the folds and Dick sat high, arms ready to brush away anything coming. He wore a proud expression; conqueror, adventurer, modern pioneer of the very, very old.
4
Wednesday, April 30, 2019: 9:12AM
Like opening the door of a pre-heating oven, the bad side had to be fifteen degrees warmer, and it was balmy, a lazy summer feeling that never really hit anywhere in Canada. Not above anyway.
The flora on the banks was lush and shining with dampness. The mushrooms were constant and many rose high enough that only the gentle fingers of shine found the eyes of the floating travelers below. Everywhere else, the heat made the orange sway and shimmer, lessening sight by almost half of the previous chamber. Moss climbed everywhere, up walls and into the heights no longer visible.
“It grows so fast you can see it move,” David said. He’d hidden in the mushroom, barely peeking his head out to watch. The place had him spooked.
“David, what happened last time you were here?” Dick called over the din of the river. Like it is in a very cold, snowy, winter’s night, the sound seemed trapped and needed an extra push.
David remained still, closing his eyes. “It has so many dinos, much, much blood. I followed snake-chickens and s
aw a medium get…it was so much blood.”
He’d spoken with what someone’s mother might call an indoor voice and Dick shouted, “Sorry, you need to speak up!”
“Sht!” Stevie whistled. “Look.” The mushroom had spun and he was no longer the figure in front.
A juvenile dinosaur, one standing about four feet high and resembling the ones David had called mediums, lifted its head from where it drank. It barked once and then let out a weak keening sound. Its legs bent.
David hurried to his knees, rocking the mushroom cap gently, and was about to leap into the water when the beast jumped from the shore. Two yards, maybe three separated the floaters from the bank. The dinosaur’s feet kicked into the river while it dug claws into the mushroom, snorting, huffing, keening as it tore and dragged.
Every passenger fell toward the thrashing beast. David rolled into the stem, no longer able to make the quick evacuation. Stevie was inches away from the scrabbling claws. He flopped his body away, awkward break dancing, and pedaled his feet to make distance. Emily gripped the folds around her and cinched her eyes tight, wishing it all away.
Tanya had fallen against the stem and then beyond. The plank of wood was right there, creeping closer to the edge as the mushroom broke away in bits. Tanya, unthinking, snatched and yanked the wood away.
The beast had half of its abdomen on the topside of the cap and was snapping its jaws, clawing madly for purchase. Dick was shouting. Stevie was shouting. David had again crawled to the rising side, looking to jump ship. Emily’s lips moved in silent prayer. Peter was quiet and still, watching wide-eyed.
In autopilot, Tanya reefed back the plank and stabbed a foot-wide, softened and squared end into the open mouth of the beast. It snapped its teeth, splintering the wood. Tanya pulled back and thrust forward again as the mouth opened. This time, jagged bits jabbed into the beast’s throat. A huff and a weak keen flew alongside a spray of chilly red blood that coated Tanya and Stevie.
Something about that blood infuriated Stevie and he began kicking. Tanya cocked back again and stabbed with all she had.
The claws opened and the dinosaur splashed down. It kicked and swatted a firm tale, climbed ashore, charging into the orange glow.
David had tumbled forward when the cap regained level. He flattened himself in the folds and tried to gather himself.
The cap itself had lost a third and was spinning much faster than it had been as it continued along the route. Tanya looked around, surprised with herself and proud of what she’d done. A smile hit her lips, then laughter. It was contagious, and soon all but David were laughing and smiling.
Dick began punching the cap around him gleefully, then Peter mimicked. Stevie flattened himself out and howled like a wolf. Emily finally opened her eyes, peered at her fellow travelers, and relaxed.
The feeling lasted about two minutes.
Dick was closest to the opposite side shore when he saw the dinosaur that had been drinking from the river rise up to its full ten feet, reveal its horrid, sharkish teeth in something resembling a sneer, then bend its knees. David had heard the laughter cease and popped up—all sudden changes registered in him as something to watch for. This time, he didn’t let the cap’s equilibrium change before he jumped.
The water was cold and deep, and he swam well, but the current was quick from top to riverbed. He popped up for a breath and cast a glance back.
The dinosaur had leapt onto the cap, sending it off-kilter before sinking. The motion flung Emily and Peter. Dick and Tanya tumbled together, a claw gouging Dick’s arm and Tanya’s mid-section. Stevie tipped back as if dropping scuba tanks and dropped deep into the river. It was clear enough that he could see the two great legs rise from the bottom. Stevie surfaced and saw Dick doing a weak, one-armed doggy paddle. He darted down and swam to the man, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him along.
Emily was with Peter at the far shore, David standing next to them, jerking his head around, looking for more danger.
“Come on!” Stevie said, gasping. The river had to be but a few notches from freezing. Together, they moved and it wasn’t until they reached the far shore—the landed trio running alongside to keep pace—that anyone noticed Tanya wasn’t with them.
“Where’s—?” Emily began and then screamed.
Up river, where the cap had sunk under the beast’s weight, was Tanya, pulling her body up the shore. The dinosaur was still right behind her, standing in the river. Gore covered the foot of abdomen that rose above the river and blood dripped in thick oily drops down its scaly muzzle, turning its teeth pink and gums black.
Tanya worked like a road-struck turtle, just trying to get to the opposite ditch, to complete that one last task. Her legs were gone beneath the knees and her intestines pilled out of her stomach, tangling in the mossy stands, trailing like Eli Roth-inspired wedding streamers. Her mouth opened, maybe to call, but maybe for just a good gulp of oxygen. Horror lived in those up-facing eyes. She saw the future just as the other did. The end had come, but she wasn’t done and rolled over, began tugging for movement, double time.
Then the dinosaur leaned forward, Romeo planting a kiss on Juliet, and tore into Tanya’s back. A scream left her mouth and the dinosaur flung back its head, tossing a tasty bite deep into its gullet. Then it wailed its keen and David took off running.
Dick stumbled behind him. “Follow the boy.”
Stevie took Emily’s hand and pulled her along. Peter trotted in reverse, watching the feast, making sure the beast didn’t trail after them.
David was up in a huge mushroom—had climbed twenty feet by the time Stevie and Emily caught up, the stumbling Dick not far behind.
“I can’t climb.” Dick eyed the tree, his arm a mess of blood and visible stuff usually left unseen when flesh remained intact.
“Go.” Stevie pushed Emily to step in David’s holds and she wrapped her upper-half tight to the stem.
“I can’t climb,” Dick said again.
Stevie shook his head, not knowing what to say, and climbed up behind Emily.
Peter arrived and Dick said it again. Peter looked up the mushroom and back to the injured man, then back to the stem.
“What if we dig you a hole?” Peter scanned a small circle, found a triangular rock, and slammed it into the stem, creating a doorway, something like what a hobbit might use in a fairy tale. Once the outer layer came away, Dick kneeled and started peeling the rubbery stuff from its inner side with his functional arm. “Yeah, good idea,” Peter added, understanding.
A keening roar sounded way too closely and Peter swung like a madman. Another screamed and he dropped the rock and started climbing. “Sorry. Sorry.”
The world vibrated and the heat of the atmosphere seemed to drop into Arctic realms. There was no more time. Dick grabbed the rubber side like the handle of a shield and fell into the hole. It wasn’t large enough to allow smooth coverage, but was good enough to fool a dinosaur. Maybe.
The bloody-faced beast stomped to the mushroom, sniffing around. Up top, hiding in the fins, the others were safe unless shaken out like apples. At the bottom, Dick shivered through sweat that had come to pop out all over him from beneath his river-soaked clothing. The ravenous creature sniffed at Dick’s doorway and he tried to still himself, but it became impossible and he shook harder. The snorts came faster, its nostrils whistling a background accompaniment.
A claw eased in the crack and felt around. The sharp tip was an inch from the end of Dick’s nose. The sight stopped his body’s shake and turned him into a statue, his eyes tight as buffalo hide on a snare drum. In a flash, he saw himself as a young man, weighing his choices when the three acceptances came to his house. He was a high school senior and a good guess for the valedictorian—he came runner-up two months later—and he’d tried to imagine his future while he considered which education path to take. His parents thought getting into fossils was great, if it was fossil fuels; and he could’ve leaned into that well-funded avenue where jobs were plentiful, boo
ming even. He could’ve been a rich man, could’ve been someplace else and never saw a bloody dinosaur claw that close up, never had anything try to rip his face off.
Too late to change that, his head came back to the moment and he dared to open his eyes; the claw was gone. The steps were near, but he was no longer the focus. A pent breath burst from his mouth and he cried behind his mushroom shield in his mushroom fortress.
5
Wednesday, April 30, 2019: 11:10AM
Dick’s phone no longer booted up, but he guessed they’d made it less than two hours on the fast river, maybe gone seven or eight miles. Stuck in the mushroom stem, most of his thoughts were of returning to where they’d landed, though not all his thoughts. He’d torn the bottom of his undershirt after biting a hole in it and tied a tourniquet over his wound. Other thoughts fell into a happy place. This was the adventure of a lifetime and so far, he’d beaten the odds. What were the chances that the oldest of the bunch wasn’t apt to go first? Okay, so there had been a very pregnant woman, so he should’ve gone second, but he hadn’t.
This was destiny.
He pushed out and peered into the orange light around him. There was nothing close enough to warn him to stay put and he climbed free. His legs suggested he’d been in that hovel longer than he’d thought. Then again, maybe falling a few hundred feet into a lost world was tough on the joints.
He could hear the water running and a realization struck. The water was the one place that was common for predators and prey. They had to follow the river, but being on the river made them into smorgasbord items on a conveyor belt. If they took a secretive route, near the river, but not on it, they could get where they had to…so long as the chamber only stretched…oh hell, how long? Could stretch the sum of the Rockies, dip down into Colorado, beyond!
He shook his head. That was absurd. An underground world that large couldn’t go unnoticed. No. This was a manageable anomaly. Could be they’d even get lucky, have the cavern stretch north, east, and west fifty miles, but only twenty to the south, where the river had to run into something, somewhere.
Great Big Teeth Page 8