Darkness Descends

by J. C. Kavanagh

  Jayden nodded her head in agreement. “See how they’re twisted around the tree, like a ringlet?” Jayden twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “Like that,” she explained.

  “Now we know where we are,” she declared.

  “Ah, you’re right,” Max said before Jayden could finish. “We’re at the Twisted Pines, like the sign said.”

  The brown twisty vines were not the thin green vines typically found leafing around a bush or tree. They were the robust, bark-flaked, sturdy type, strong enough to put down a full grown, healthy tree. Connor took hold of one of the vines and yanked at its base in the ground. Nothing happened. He planted his feet and pulled again. This time, it popped out of the soil, spraying chunks of earth everywhere. Connor reversed his hold on the creeping vine, grabbing it from a point above his head. He pulled it in a downward motion but the vine remained in place. “I can’t believe it’s so strong!” He motioned to Max and said, “Give me a hand.” Metre by metre, they heaved downward and slowly loosened the vine’s twisted death grip on the tree. Chunks of dead branches and bark cascaded on their heads as they pulled. It had forked into two sections halfway up the tree, clinging tenaciously to the larger tree. When the last of the vine had been wrestled out of the tree and had fallen beside them, Max examined it curiously. “It’s got flakey bark on it, like camouflage, so it looks just like the ‘host’ tree.” He flexed a portion of the vine in a circle, easily manipulating the wooden fibres. “Wow, it’s kinda cool, but sad.”

  “Sad?” questioned Jayden.

  “Yeah, sad,” Max replied. “Cuz it lives to kill.”

  “Say what?”

  “Think about it,” said Max. “This thing grows and creeps and twists around the host, slowly strangling the life out of it. It lives only to kill. And then, when the host tree dies, the creeper dies too.”

  “Well, we can’t save them all,” Connor responded. “We’re on a mission, remember? Let’s get back to finding Georgia.”

  Shaking the bark debris from his hair, Connor picked up the walking stick/weapon he had thrown on the ground. He resumed his previous running pace and, together, they sprinted through the vine-infested woods. They jogged with caution, ducking under the outstretched dying branches that threatened to wrestle them to the ground.

  Connor was the first to emerge from the forest and he hoisted his walking stick/weapon triumphantly. His elation was short-lived though, and he ended his fist pump mid-air. Ahead lay a deep, rocky cut in the ground, about 30 metres across and as wide as his peripheral vision could make out in the moonlight. Narrow funnels of steam escaped from several fissures in the rock.

  “This has to be the Volcano Vent in the Valley of Tired,” he whispered. He searched for a sign post to confirm his finding, but there was nothing in view. He sidled to the edge and peered over. It was impossible to judge the bottom of the vent — the nether regions were indistinguishable, lost in murky shadows. It could have been five metres deep or 500 metres.

  Connor tried to recall geography lessons from elementary school. He remembered there were three types of volcanos and one of them was short in stature and shaped like a shield. It was this kind of volcano that had deep lava channels and fissure vents. He gulped.

  “We’re on top of an active volcano.”

  The sound of cracking wood made him gasp and Connor turned, reflexively holding the stick/weapon in front of his body. But it was Max and Jayden jogging out of the woods, both panting. Max dropped to his knees beside Connor, wheezing heavily. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he leaned forward, placing a hand on the rock’s edge. “It’s warm,” he said. “Look at those steam funnels – this must be the Volcano Vent in the Valley of Tired!”

  “I think so too,” replied Connor. “Too bad you don’t have those night vision goggles,” he added. “We sure could use them now.”

  The three stood together and intuitively they turned their backs inward, staring outward as their bodies formed a small protective triangle. Connor studied the twisted pine forest while Jayden and Max checked the opposing sides of the vent. Steam gushed from various points within the deep channel. Even though the moon rays twinkled casually, shadows and vapour hung like a multitude of other-world spirits. The hairs on Jayden’s neck prickled with fright and she gulped back her terror. The sound of her heart beating was so loud she thought for sure the others could hear it. They, however, were dealing with their own fears.

  “Would that Richard guy try to push us in?” whispered Max.

  “Do you think there are wolves on this side of the rapids?” responded Connor.

  “Never mind that,” Jayden whispered back. “How do we get over the vent without falling in?”

  Connor folded his arms across his chest and frowned. Max stood on tip-toe, as if that would gain him a better vantage point. A narrow, grassy strip of land stretched on the opposite side of the volcano vent, ending at a rocky cliff face that was four or five storeys high. The top of the solid rock cliff appeared to be the top of the mountain.

  “Oh boy, that’s a climb,” declared Max. He tried to be nonchalant about it but his knees were shaking. He and heights were not friends.

  “First things first,” Jayden insisted. “We have to find a way around the vent. Any ideas?”

  Max looked left and right – anywhere but ahead and up. “I say we follow the vent going west and see where it ends. It can’t go all the way around the top. Can it?”

  “I don’t know, but yeah, let’s go west,” agreed Jayden. “I feel conspicuous here.”

  “That’s ’cuz you’re wearing your Hallowe’en pjs,” Max snickered.

  Jayden narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get me started, Ginger-Genius.”

  “Well, I’ll accept the ‘genius’ part, for sure!” Max replied, flashing a mischievous grin.

  “Okay kids,” Connor interrupted. “Are you finished bickering and calling names? Can we get moving now?”

  Max stood at attention and saluted. “Yes, Connor-sir! Right away Connor-sir!”

  Jayden suppressed a grin. “You are smart and silly, oh Ginger-Genius. And that’s al-l-l-lright.”

  They stood quietly, relishing the brief jocular moment. The moon glared from the sky, embossing its pale rays across a swatch of puffy clouds and triggering a cavalcade of glistening, floating diamonds within the vent’s vapours. It was time to move.

  “I’ll take the lead this time,” Jayden volunteered. “Connor, you protect us from the rear with your stick, or weapon or whatever you call it.”

  Connor waved it around. “Sword. How about sword?” He swung it right to left and then left to right in an ‘X’ pattern.

  Max whispered something under his breath and then said, “Brains. How about I use my brains, you guys use your brawn.”

  “Brawn?” Jayden asked. “Did you just make up that word?”

  Max scratched his head and glanced at the sky as if to ask ‘why me?’ “Sometimes I feel like the adult here,” he muttered.

  They continued their march and Jayden glanced behind. “Well, Max? Brawn?”

  “Look,” he replied. “You two are the physical part of our trio and I guess I’m the brains. Does that answer your question?”

  Jayden gave a short laugh. “Yeah, maybe, but now I feel you’ve relegated me to the position of ‘dumb jockess.’ We’re a team, right? All equal, and everyone gives something and all that stuff. Right?”

  “I don’t think he’s insulting us,” Connor interjected. “He wishes he had our physical prowess and we wish we had his mental aptitude. Is that about right, Max?”

  “No, not at all!” replied Max. He walked in silence a few more metres and then relented. “Well, maybe a little bit. My big brother has the athletic abilities. I got the freckles and the nerd smarts.”

  Jayden pivoted toward Max and stopped, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Like I said before, that’s al-l-l-lright.”

  Max grinned sheepishly. “Thanks.”

  Jayden pointed back to the tra
il. “How about you take the lead for a bit?”

  Max straightened his shoulders. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  They trudged in silence, Max peering constantly ahead, looking for a way to cross the volcano’s rocky gash, while Connor strode in defensive mode, every few seconds scanning the twisted woods on their right. The moon was no longer at their eleven o’clock and Connor was about to suggest they turn around when suddenly, Max held up his right hand. He motioned forward and then squatted. Jayden and Connor hustled to his side.

  The top of the squat mountain loomed beyond the rocky vent and the stony cliff face remained as a tall barrier. But up ahead, a dark, sinewy structure stretched from their side of the vent and across, severely sagging over the middle. The opposite end was hidden from sight, lost in the vaporous mist rising from the gash.

  “It’s a bridge – a home-made suspension bridge,” Max whispered.

  They edged closer to the man-made crossing and remained crouched. The silence of the night was interrupted only by the sound of crickets chirping in the woods and the occasional hiss of steam spewing from the volcano. There was no chanting, no thudding and no high-pitched wolf howls. Still, Jayden was uneasy, as though something unnatural was close by, waiting to pounce. She positioned herself closer to the ground, trying to get a cross-section view of the bridge. It began at the vent’s rocky edge where half a dozen tall, broken tree trunks jutted upward. Tied to the trunks were two sets of brown ropes, each set leading like a pathway over and across the vent.

  Max scooted over to the snapped tree trunks and smoothed his hands over the ropes wrapped around them. “They’re not ropes – they’re vines!” he announced. “From the Twisted Pines!” He knelt and baby-crawled to the edge of the vent.

  “I don’t know about getting any closer,” Jayden warned. “Sure doesn’t look secure to me.”

  Max lay on his stomach and examined the portion of the bridge visible through the steamy mist. The base of the walkway was made from loosely braided vines and he could see the flakey brown bark interwoven in an imprecise pattern, all originating from the vines tied around two pine trunks at the vent’s edge. The handrails were also made from the slender growth and every few metres, a length of vine branched downward to connect to the walking base. That section was tied at the base before looping upward and around itself in a continuation of the handrail. Max turned his attention to the start of the bridge, focusing once again on the base of the snapped tree trunks. His hands followed the contours of the vines wrapped around them, feeling them for weak spots. Their flexible ends were tied in macramé fashion, one set holding the walking base and the other set the upper handrails. “It’s secure,” he muttered. They were the only materials keeping the ‘bridge’ suspended.

  Max scrambled upright, an ecstatic grin on his face. “It’s so simple!”

  “No, it’s so sketchy,” retorted Jayden.

  “It’s the way across,” Max insisted. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

  Connor surveyed the woods behind them and then turned toward the steaming vent, uncertainty clouding his face. “The steam makes it difficult to see to the other end of this contraption but it can’t be more than thirty metres across.” He took hold of one of the vine handrails, pulling it and then shaking it side to side. The bridge swayed gently but remained intact.

  “Yeah, I’m not sure about crossing this thing, either,” Jayden remarked. “Those braided base vines are set so far apart, it’ll be like walking on live snakes.” She shuddered, recalling the snake she had grabbed in the canoe.

  Connor shook his head at Jayden in disagreement. “It’s going to be tricky but Max is right – we don’t have a choice. Georgia has to be close by and we can’t stop now.” He tossed the walking stick/weapon over the edge and leaned forward, listening. Jayden held her breath and Max cocked his head to one side. Five, six, seven seconds elapsed. A faint ‘thunk’ floated up when the stick finally struck bottom.

  Connor’s face was grim. “No matter what,” he said, “don’t fall.”

  They started across, Connor in the lead, followed by Max and then Jayden. Connor held each handrail tightly, attempting to maintain his balance and prevent the bridge from twisting from one side to the other. The mist from the vent made the rail vines slick with moisture and the wide spacing between the braided vines at the base made it difficult to gain a foothold. Every time one of them took a step, the bridge twisted to the opposite side. They lurched like three drunk pedestrians on a moving slinky.

  “Wait!” Jayden’s voice was urgent. They had clutch-walked about five metres. “We won’t make it like this. Connor, every time you take a step, Max loses his balance and when he flip-flops, I do too. So we have to walk together, in sync!”

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  “On my mark,” said Jayden. “Right foot forward – now!”

  The bridge wavered crazily with all their weight moving simultaneously. It swung back and forth several times and then slowly came to a stop. Jayden breathed a sigh of relief.

  “It’s working! Okay, get ready guys... left foot forward – now!”

  The bridge careened crazily once again, and all three reacted by gripping the handrails and planting their feet as tightly as they could in the loosely braided base.

  “I don’t like my idea anymore,” muttered Max. “Are we there yet?” He peered ahead but the mist was too thick to see more than a few metres in front of them. He steadfastly refused to look below the bridge, convincing himself that there were no heights involved and that the stick falling for seven seconds before it hit bottom actually meant nothing.

  They continued in measured step-by-step fashion for another dozen paces, with Jayden barking out orders for each movement. The further they travelled across the bridge, the hotter it got. Misty vapours from the vent clung to them like a wet cloth. It was just as hard to hold on to the vines as it was to breathe.

  Connor’s arms were shaking with the effort of keeping the handrails aligned and rigid. His thighs were ready to explode from maintaining a crouched, balanced position. Perspiration dripped through his scalp and down his back, joining the creek of sweat trickling between his shoulder blades. He shook his hair and blinked back the sweat from his eyes. The mist was fading ahead of him and he could see the incline of the bridge was becoming steep again.

  “There’s good news!” he hollered.

  “I’m ready for some!” replied Jayden.

  “I think we’re at the lowest, saggiest part of the bridge!”

  “Great! Onward and upward?” Jayden asked.

  “Onward and upward!” Connor responded.

  Max released his hold of the handrail and wiped the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his t-shirt. The action caused him to lean forward a tad too much and he hastily over-corrected his posture. But by jerking to the right, the base of the bridge lurched to the left and the vines on the handrail responded in a caterpillar-like jig. In horror, Max watched as Jayden reacted to the caterpillar-jig with her own slow-motion floppy dance. A moment later, Connor mimicked her movements. They were trying to regain their balance by reacting to the surging movement of the vines much like an alpine skier would – bending knees up, then knees down – but they were, in fact, encouraging a forward surge, like a child pumping on a swing. Max jerked again to his right, swinging the crook of his arm around the handrail and narrowly preventing a fall. Just when he thought he was balanced, both feet slipped then separated around one section of the braided base, and he fell through. He took a breath to cry out but before he could make a sound, his groin slammed into the fleshy part of the braid. Internally shrieking with pain, and with his splayed legs hopelessly dangling, Max grabbed two of the braided vines around his torso. He tried to pull his legs up, but the vines were greasy with moisture and rippling with movement as the others continued to undulate in a crazy balancing dance. The pain from his groin was overwhelming and Max did the only thing his brain told him to do to make it stop. He grabbed Jayden.


  “No-o-o-o,” she screamed. Jayden was in mid-motion, caught between meeting her knees at her chin and holding the handrails rigidly by her side. She buckled backward with the force of Max’s pull and her butt hit him squarely in the chest. He fell back on the walkway but Jayden ricocheted to the right. The bridge’s rippling momentum kicked her off the braided walkway like a novice rider on a wild horse. Jayden flailed her arms, reaching for the rails – the base – anything. Connor had no time to think. He released the handrails, turned and dove toward Jayden. He managed to hook his right arm around the walkway base and the left underneath Jayden’s armpit before he slammed face-down on the braided vines. He quickly straddled the outer portion of the walkway with the topsides of his feet, lying as rigidly as he could. Jayden had one arm wrapped around the vine base and the other hooked around Connor’s neck. Her body dangled below. Their faces were inches apart and both were panting heavily.

  “You saved me,” whispered Jayden. Her green eyes glowed with gratitude and she adjusted her hold on the walkway. Connor clenched his teeth and braced his back, neck muscles straining as he held on to the walkway and Jayden. The bridge stopped its slow heaving surge and Max very carefully pulled himself to a sitting position.

  A prolonged creaking sound from the bridge compelled Max to stop moving. “Something’s not right,” he said. “We’re not balanced.”

  Jayden kicked her dangling legs, trying to elevate them so she could straddle the walkway. The bridge shuddered in response and began a twisting, rotating motion.

  “The other way... move the OTHER WAY,” Max shouted.

  But it was too late. The handrails began to twist and before anyone could react, the bridge flipped over. And they were falling.

  Chapter 17

  The Most Obstinate Woman in the World