Eight

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by WW Mortensen


  Clearly, this was what she’d seen clutching the ceiling in the chamber below—the huge, pale shape around which the ball of spiders had been formed. They’d all been grasping onto it.

  Delicately and without sound, the creature touched down. For its huge size, this seemed a miraculous feat. Amid the measureless rows of egg sacs, it crouched and took the three of them in curiously.

  Unmoving, Rebecca’s group returned the creature’s gaze. Its huge, pale face sat forward of the shell-like carapace that was its head, and beneath the eight eyes grouped at the front—in three rows, just like those of a jumping spider—two massive, jaw-like chelicerae sheathed unseen fangs.

  Rebecca returned her attention to the creature’s eyes. The two anterior medians were huge, easily the size of dinner plates. But they were cloudy, milky, as pale as its face and body…

  Rebecca sensed movement and swivelled.

  Several dark shapes skittered silently from the surrounding silk, encircling them. These megarachnids were dog-sized, more like the jumpers they’d previously encountered. But unlike the jumpers, and like the larger specimen before them, they were hairless. Albino-like.

  A flash of understanding struck Rebecca.

  With some ant species, the bigger, stronger members assumed positions of leadership. By virtue of its size, this huge, hairless creature was likely the dominant female of this colony—the alpha female, and in a sense, a kind of pseudo-Queen. The others were possibly nursemaids, assistants that would aid the alpha with her eggs, perhaps tend to her hatchlings and immature spiderlings as surrogate mothers—it wasn’t a stretch given cooperative brood care existed amongst social spiders. But it was just as likely her assistants were egg-layers too, all of them—the larger female included—members of some royal or reproductive caste.

  Either way, this was bad.

  She, Ed, and Oliveira were in a nuptial chamber—full to the brim with eggs—and were now surrounded by a host of very protective mothers…

  It was suddenly all too clear. This was why they’d been allowed so far—why they’d been able to traverse so deeply into the nest unopposed, why it had felt as though they’d been watched all the way and not confronted.

  They’d been surreptitiously herded, forced up here into the nuptial chamber, into the clutches of the alpha female.

  It had been a trap all along.

  81

  The air in the room seemed to thin. Rebecca tried to draw more into her lungs but couldn’t get enough of it. Fighting panic, she realised she was hyperventilating. The room swam.

  With a pop, the Aurora hand-flare burst into life, sizzling as Ed thrust it before him.

  The Female hissed and lowered herself, readying to pounce. She didn’t, though, and instead, held her ground. The egg-layers that had encircled them retreated a little.

  Rebecca knew why. Having spent most of their existence underground, in darkness, the Female and her egg-layers were near-blind—

  And the light caused them pain.

  She guessed it was precisely what Ed had banked on; like her, he’d probably noted the alpha female’s oversized eyes—pale and milky, extremely sensitive.

  The light is a weapon…

  Oliveira caught on, and at once the two men struck more hand-flares—some red, some white, each of them blazing at a minimum of fifteen thousand candela. They tossed the flares to the ground in a spreading circle.

  Agitated, the Female and her egg-layers withdrew, barking and rearing on their hind legs.

  “They are calling for help!” Oliveira said. “We have to get out of here!”

  On the opposite side of the chamber, barely visible through the hanging egg sacs, was another door. Ed and Oliveira made for it, each waving a flare before them, scattering the egg-layers deeper into the shadows. As they went, Oliveira scooped up the discarded FH-9.

  It was only as they reached the door that they suddenly stopped and turned.

  “Senhorita!”

  Rebecca hadn’t gone with them.

  • • •

  Panicking, breathing fast, Rebecca searched the mass of spiders for a break in their ranks. She’d missed her chance.

  Shit! SHIT!

  She was surrounded.

  At the blurry edge of the light, no more than a few yards away, the Female and her egg-layers hissed and barked in a tight ring around her, their curved fangs bared and forelegs flailing as they lunged back and forth, seeking an opening.

  She’d only hesitated for an instant, but it had been enough. She knew why she’d faltered.

  Please, no. Not now…NOT NOW…

  A spluttering sound came to her ears, and still hyperventilating, she looked down.

  Oh no…

  On the ground at her feet, one of the flares spluttered. Then a second, and a third.

  Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat.

  The flares had a burn-time of just sixty seconds.

  And now, time was up.

  • • •

  Unable to react, Rebecca watched as darkness pounced from flare to flare, diminishing her protective circle and inviting the enraged Female and her egg-layers ever closer. Her heart pounded, her breath coming in heaving gasps. Soon, she’d be seized and hauled away into the blackness, but try as she might, she remained bound to the spot. She couldn’t move.

  God no…

  And then things got a whole lot worse.

  With a rush, a frantic scratching erupted outside the chamber, on the other side of the door through which she and the others had entered. Asensi or maybe Luis had sealed it, but the spiders that had chased them here in their dozens were now clawing at it… trying to get in.

  Answering the call of the dominant female.

  With that fateful, horrifying sound, Rebecca’s last ounce of hope washed away.

  This time, there’d be no escape.

  82

  Oliveira’s mind raced. His next move had to count.

  Outside, the frenzied clawing intensified, reverberating through the chamber and shaking the walls as the swarm tapped and scratched and heaved against the stonework. Inside, still calling to the horde, the giant spider and its minions hissed and barked at the edge of the failing light, legs raised.

  Oliveira’s gaze shot down to Rebecca’s feet, and the flares beside them.

  Only three left…

  Two…

  One.

  It happened very quickly.

  Catching Ed’s eye, Oliveira nodded—

  —and pulled the pin on the canister in his hand, raising it high and tossing it into the centre of the nuptial chamber.

  And with that, the world exploded into unimaginable brilliance.

  THE

  PREY

  83

  Jessy hunched inside her tent, facing the rear, Priscilla chattering away beside her. Jessy held a finger to her lips. “Shh…”

  Then she depressed the radio’s talk button.

  It was now or never. If she was to get a message to Rebecca, she could wait no longer. She whispered into the mouthpiece. “Hello, Bec? It’s me, Jess.”

  She got only static in reply. She tried again, then changed frequencies and repeated the process. It made no difference.

  Jessy heard movement outside and thrust the radio under her pack.

  A polite voice called out to her. “Ma’am, you awake in there?”

  Jessy unzipped the tent and popped her head out. She looked up with a smile at the young Hispanic soldier standing at the cave mouth. She recognised him: his surname was Hoya, though he went by the name of Tag, his companions nicknaming him after the watch-brand. She’d thought it clever.

  “Ma’am, the choppers are on their way. We need to get you down to the EZ. Are you ready?”

  No. She needed more time. “Actually… can you give me a few moments… to gather my things?” She put on her best smile.

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “No. Thank you. I’ll be out shortly.”

  With that, Jessy s
lipped back inside the tent, listening for Tag’s retreating footsteps before retrieving the radio and depressing the talk button once more.

  84

  Still dazed, Ed had no more than a split-second to react.

  There was no time to question why Oliveira had come so heavily armed—but Ed was glad he had. Recognising the canister Oliveira was about to hurl into the nuptial chamber, he responded accordingly.

  If the hand-flares, at fifteen thousand candela, caused the spiders agitation, God only knew what the detonation of the E182 Stun Grenade—or flashbang—would do to them. In the second afforded him, Ed ran back for Rebecca, scattering the spiders with his hand-flare and burying her head in his chest as the flashbang exploded. At 22 million candela, the blast was visible through shut eyes. Fortunately, none of them had been wearing their NVGs, having relied on the flares, glowsticks and the burning egg sacs for light. Had they witnessed the detonation through their goggles, Ed figured they may well have suffered permanent blindness.

  As it was, Oliveira had created precisely the diversion they needed.

  At 180 decibels, the blast was as deafening as it was blinding, but Ed didn’t need his ears to run. Dragging Rebecca, they were through the door quickly, their retreat covered by a suppressing blast of flame that scythed from the FH-9 back into the egg-laden nuptial chamber, followed by another detonation of the E182, three seconds after the first.

  Fourteen successive detonations, each as loud and as bright as the last, would follow every three seconds like a relentless, thunderous strobe.

  Of course, by the time it ended the three of them would be long gone.

  And they were.

  Flash. Bang.

  • • •

  The booming detonations jarred Rebecca from her stupor. “What in God’s name…?” she cried, her ears ringing.

  “No time to explain!”

  They ran down a narrow, silk-lined passageway. His job done, Ed released Rebecca and fell back, lagging.

  Rebecca turned. “Here! Let me help you!”

  In a torrent, a host of jumpers flooded into the tunnel behind them—likely the same horde that had been clawing at the door. They must have circumvented the nuptial chamber via another passage.

  Ed glanced back, then forward to Rebecca. “Go! Run!”

  Rebecca didn’t need to be told twice and took off down the corridor, Ed and Oliveira in tow. A frightful scuttling reverberated underfoot and off the walls. The flamethrower roared. She didn’t look back.

  Suddenly, the tunnel ended. The group burst into a tiny chamber.

  No exits.

  “Shit! SHIT!!”

  Rebecca spun in a fit of desperation. The chamber was a small recess, enclosed on all sides. She glanced up. The alcove had no ceiling. Instead, a dark, empty shaft rose several storeys to a distant quadrilateral of light.

  If they had more time, they could probably climb up to it—

  They’d never make it.

  “Shit!”

  Like a murderous river, the spiders swarmed down the tunnel, nearly upon them—

  There had to be something!

  Rebecca saw it—not above them, but on the ground.

  A deep groove no wider than half an inch separated the floor from the walls of the alcove, running out square from the alcove’s corners and cutting across the floor at the point where the passageway ended, and the recess began.

  An edge.

  They stood on a platform of some kind.

  A square platform that seemed to run flush with the shaft above them…

  Rebecca fell to her knees, searching, spreading the dust with her hands…

  In the middle of the platform was a circular indentation, set into a tile in the shape of the sun.

  The sun…

  “Ed! The disc!”

  “What?”

  “The disc, the one your grandfather gave you! Give it to me! HURRY!”

  The skittering swelled, thunderous now…

  “Whatever you are planning, be quick!” Oliveira bellowed, and raised the nozzle of the flamethrower as Ed rifled through his vest—

  Too late.

  The mass of spiders rounded the corner, gushing towards the alcove—first one, then two, then too many to count, a blur of gnashing fangs surging across the floor and ceiling and walls simultaneously, the legs of all of them spread wide, Rebecca’s vision filling with them—

  —just as she snatched the disc from Ed’s fumbling hands and jammed it into the tile.

  A nanosecond later, Oliveira’s finger must have depressed the flamethrower’s trigger, because in a blinding flash of light, the maw of the tunnel and the tangled mass of spiders pouring out of it exploded in searing orange flame.

  Then the light died and there was darkness, as the platform on which Rebecca and her companions stood lifted from the ground and rose into the shaft.

  85

  Hand clamped over Owen’s mouth, Sanchez watched as the spider sprang delicately forward, launching across the water towards them.

  Owen had seemed dimly aware of the unfolding situation, and the sight of the jumper wading across the lake was enough to jolt him fully alert.

  Sanchez felt him gasp, and he removed his hand. “Amigo. Take a deep breath.”

  Owen did, and together they slipped beneath the surface. In the blackness, Sanchez led Owen by the wrist, moving by touch around the boulders and away from the advancing spider. He could hear the creature’s legs propelling it forward—not fast, in fact, ungainly almost, but advancing, nonetheless.

  Sanchez hoped it hadn’t seen them, but he couldn’t be sure. He wished he still had the spear.

  Remaining submerged, he pressed Owen against the boulders lining the lake’s edge.

  The jumper swam forward. Seconds passed. It seemed like forever. A fearful burn came to Sanchez’s lungs. He was running out of air. No doubt Owen was, too.

  Don’t panic.

  Another second. More paddling. Owen tapped Sanchez on the wrist. He had to surface.

  The paddling stopped.

  Hold on, just another second…

  Sanchez looked up. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness. Had the jumper gone? Perhaps it had paused and was waiting for them to resurface. Maybe it was a trap.

  They could stay down no longer. Lungs burning fiercely, Sanchez shot upwards, hoisting Owen with him.

  They broke the surface together, ready for an ambush. It never came.

  The jumper was gone. So were its companions.

  Just like that, all five had simply vanished.

  86

  Rebecca cast her gaze about as they ascended the shaft, her body throbbing with adrenaline.

  The platform was a lift!

  She whimpered with relief, thankful her suspicions had proved correct. Fortunately, none of the spiders had made it onto the stone block: the powerful blast of flame from the FH-9 had disintegrated everything in its path. It had been a clean getaway.

  She sucked in a calming breath. Despite the lucky escape, she felt as though she might throw up.

  Oliveira looked at her. “Close, eh?”

  Rebecca said nothing.

  “That big one,” Ed said, panting. “What the hell was it?”

  “An egg-layer,” Rebecca said. “They all were. The big one was the alpha female.”

  Ed nodded and looked about himself in awe. “Man… this is incredible.”

  It was incredible. All around, the air crackled and hummed like buzzing electricity, causing the hairs on Rebecca’s arms to stand on end. Beneath her feet, the stone platform shimmered like the moai had yesterday, and the walls of the shaft flickered, although the effect was less physical than optical because she could feel no vibrations. Looking about, it was clear no cables, counterweights, or mechanisms drove the platform upwards, the device apparently powered by no more than the same repulsive energy Ed had yesterday demonstrated. Fortunately, the reaction-time had been faster, maybe because the platform was lighter than the hu
ge statue, or nearer to the source. Whatever the case, there was no escaping it: the lift was rising on air alone.

  “‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic’,” Oliveira whispered.

  “Arthur C. Clarke’s Third Law,” Ed said, coughing.

  Magic, indeed. Observing her surroundings, Rebecca felt again that odd sense of detachment, the sensation that something—the platform, the shaft—was somehow uncoupled from reality, not fully in this space. Yesterday, she’d felt the moai had become untethered, whatever that meant. Today, the sensation was even stronger. She was part of it.

  Above them, the square of light grew larger.

  “That must be the temple up there, the one we saw at the top of the pyramid,” Rebecca said.

  Again, Ed coughed. “So—soon we will be at the top of the pyramid, when we need to be at the bottom. We—”

  The words died on his lips as the lift bucked beneath their feet. The platform slowed, labouring suddenly. Rebecca shot a nervous glance upwards. They were still several yards from the top of the shaft.

  “You think it’s them?” Ed said. “You think they’re doing it?”

  “If not, this thing is losing power,” Oliveira answered.

  Rebecca dropped to her knees to inspect the disc, wondering if the fading afternoon light was causing the repulsive energy to fail, or if the spiders were somehow interfering with the platform. How many had amassed down there, ready to scramble up the shaft after them?

  She had little time to ponder. With a jarring shudder, and still eight or nine feet from the top of the chute, the lift jolted to a halt beneath them. There was a pause, and not a second later, the stone platform sank back down the shaft.

  • • •

  No time to hesitate.

 

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