by Clayton Wood
“I’m pretty sure I said get back,” the kid retorted. Harvey nodded, staring at the revolver. It had a hammer, which meant it was single-action. The kid would need to cock the hammer before he could shoot…and unless the kid wanted to shoot off his own dick, he wouldn’t have cocked it and shoved it in his pants.
Unless he was an idiot. Which was a possibility.
“Don’t make me shoot…” the kid began.
Harvey ducked down low, bursting forward at the kid. The kid backpedaled, and Harvey lunged at him, colliding with him and shoving him backward. The kid slammed into the wall, the gun falling from his hand and landing on the floor with a clatter. Harvey went for it, reaching out to grab it.
“Get him!” he yelled at Gus.
Harvey grabbed the gun, then turned…just as the kid’s fist slammed into his nose. Stars exploded in his vision, and he lurched backward, the gun falling from his hands. He cried out, falling onto his back, the impact knocking the wind out of him.
“Harvey!” he heard Gus cry.
“Get back!” the kid yelled. Harvey scrambled backward, his vision slowly clearing. The kid had retrieved the revolver, and was pointing it at Gus, who was only a dozen feet away. The kid cocked the hammer back, grabbing the pistol in both hands and setting a wide stance.
Shit.
“Alright, alright,” Gus blurted out, raising his hands in the air. He stepped backward, then glanced at Harvey. “You okay man?”
“Little fucker broke my nose,” Harvey complained. Blood gushed from his nose, and he pinched his nostrils shut, wincing at the pain. Blood poured down the back of his throat, and he swallowed it reflexively, gagging at the metallic taste.
“Maybe you’ll listen next time,” the kid retorted.
“You’re in a heap of trouble kid,” Harvey growled.
“Doubt it,” the kid retorted. “Now, let’s try this again. Get all the way back,” the kid ordered. “To the end of the tunnel, both of you.” Harvey complied, getting to his feet and walking all the way to the back wall of the tunnel, opposite the stone archway. Gus did the same.
“All right kid,” Harvey stated, his voice sounding nasal. “What now?”
“You stay there,” the kid answered. He moved toward the black wall, stopping at the fence blocking it, all the while keeping his gun on them. He swung one leg over the fence, then the other, standing between it and the wall of darkness.
“You really don’t want to do that,” Gus warned.
“He’s right,” Harvey piped in. As much as he wanted the kid dead, he couldn’t let the dumbass touch the wall. “You don’t know what that thing does.”
“Actually, I do,” the kid retorted. “My mom went through it.”
Harvey glanced at Gus, then at the kid. He’d heard stories of how this place had been discovered. About how people had gone missing.
“Yeah, well,” Harvey replied. “She never came out, and neither will you.”
“We’ll see about that,” the kid countered.
And then he plunged his left hand into the blackness.
* * *
Hunter felt his left hand go numb as he shoved it into the wall of pure blackness, as if it had been instantly and painlessly severed. He pulled back reflexively, but the wall resisted, his arm not moving an inch. Fear gripped him, twisting at his guts.
Oh shit.
He yanked his left arm again, and again it didn’t budge. He tried clenching his left fist, but felt nothing. It was as if his hand was gone. Maybe it was gone. Maybe the wall had dissolved it, and the rest of him was next.
Oh shit oh shit…
He glanced back at the two men standing at the far end of the tunnel, the younger one with his hands in the air, the older one clutching at his bleeding nose. Both were staring at him, their eyes wide.
Something pulled on him.
Hunter turned back to face the wall, realizing that he was moving forward. Slowly but surely, the wall was sucking his arm into it. He saw the bump at the end of his wrist pass through, felt it vanish from his awareness just as his hand had.
What have you done?
He jerked his arm back a third time, but it was pointless. His forearm gradually disappeared into that utter darkness. The wall was consuming him more quickly now, pulling him into its unholy maw.
“Help!” he cried, turning back to the two men. “Help me!”
They just stared at him.
“Damn it!” he swore, yanking at his arm again and again. He felt his elbow pass through, vanishing from existence, and then his left bicep. He nearly lost his balance, stepping back with his left foot…and feeling it go numb as it passed through the wall.
No!
The wall tugged at him relentlessly, sucking his arm and leg into it. He was nearly shoulder-deep into the darkness now, his head mere inches from the deadly void.
“Help me!” he pleaded, glancing back at the two men. The older one shrugged.
“Sorry kid,” he yelled. “We warned you.”
Hunter cursed, pulling his head as far away from the wall as possible. He felt his left shoulder become non-existent, then his left calf. He continued to struggle, but it was futile.
He was going to die.
Hunter felt the left side of his chest go numb, and his left thigh. He stopped struggling, feeling the darkness consuming him, pulling him into its nothingness. In another few seconds, his head would be pulled in. He turned to face that horrible void, that utter nothingness, and felt terror grip him. He grit his teeth, gripping the revolver tightly and pressing the barrel against his own temple.
I’m coming Mom.
Then he plunged himself into the darkness.
Chapter 3
Hunter groaned.
He opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it. Brilliant blue light assaulted him, so intense that it made his head pound. He squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away from the light, waiting for the pounding to subside. He was lying on his back on something hard…dirt he realized as he slid his hand across it. His throat was parched, the right side of his tongue throbbing. It felt swollen.
He shielded his face with one hand, facing upward and opening his eyes again. He squinted against the light, seeing bright blue sky above, scattered wisps of clouds floating serenely in that sea of blue. He frowned, then struggled to sit up, his limbs feeling like jelly. His head swam with the movement, and he closed his eyes, steeling himself against a sudden wave of nausea.
Jesus.
He swallowed, feeling the nausea pass. Then he opened his eyes…and froze.
A huge expanse of sun-baked dirt and rubble stretched out before him, as far as the eye could see.
He stared, then rose to his feet unsteadily, feeling another wave of nausea come over him. He stood there motionlessly, waiting for the sensation to pass again. Then he turned in a slow circle. More dirt and rocks, extending outward to meet the sky. A hill rose upward at a shallow angle in the distance to his left. Other than that, the landscape was utterly flat. It was like a desert, no grass or trees. No hint of life whatsoever.
Where am I?
He took a step forward, then stopped, looking down. The front of his pants was wet. He frowned, dabbing the wetness with one finger, then bringing it to his nose and sniffing it. He made a face…it was urine.
Hunter stared at the wet spot on his pants, then stuck out his tongue, feeling the swollen side of it with his finger. When he withdrew his finger, there was a little blood on it.
What the hell happened?
He closed his eyes, thinking back. He remembered leaving the house, remembered driving up to the fence. Remembered using the bolt cutters on the padlock. And then…and then…
He couldn’t remember.
Opening his eyes, he stared outward at the bleak landscape, then looked down, spotting something on the ground, gleaming in the sunlight. It was his Dad’s revolver. He picked it up. The hammer was cocked, he realized; but how had it gotten that way? He didn’t remember cock
ing it. In fact, he specifically remembered putting it in his backpack. He uncocked the gun, then looked around, spotting his backpack nearby. He put the gun inside, then slung the backpack over his shoulders, looking upward. The sun was directly overhead…it had to be around noontime. But it’d been late when he’d made it to the fence…at least six o’clock. That meant it had to be a whole day later.
He stared up at the sky, then felt the breath catch in his throat. There, to the right of the sun, was the moon. And further to the right, there was…another moon. And by the horizon, a third moon.
The hell?
He stared at the three moons, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His heart began to race, and closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath in, then letting it out.
Don’t freak out, he told himself. Maybe you’re just dreaming.
He opened his eyes, staring at the three moons, then pinched himself, feeling a sharp pain on his forearm as he did so. The air was warm and dry, the sun baking his scalp and shoulders. He could still feel the pain on the side of his tongue, the wetness on the front of his pants. It was all very real. Too real to be a dream.
So what happened?
He looked around, searching for some clue as to how he’d gotten here. A path maybe, or a road. But there was nothing. He certainly wasn’t anywhere near Smuggler’s Cave, that was for sure. Hell, with three moons in the sky…
You must’ve made it to the cave, he reasoned. That was the only explanation. He’d made it to the cave, then gone through the black wall. And then he’d ended up here…wherever that was. And Mom had gone through the wall too, so many years ago. Which meant…
She’s here.
His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a surge of hope, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.
She’s here!
He collected himself, suppressing his excitement. She’d ended up here, just as he had. And she must have been as disoriented as he was. But eventually she would have started moving…would’ve tried to find other people, and shelter. Which meant he had to do the same thing. But where would she have gone?
Hunter looked around, thinking through the possibilities.
Mom had been incredibly practical. Street smart and book smart. She would’ve looked for a clue, some evidence that people had been here. Assuming that there were other people here at all, of course. This place could be one huge wasteland. What if there was no water, no food? He would starve to death. He felt a pang of fear, and grit his teeth.
Stay focused.
He looked around. Ahead the terrain was flat, and there was nothing remotely resembling a road or building for at least a mile. Far in the distance, he could make out barren hills, tall enough to prevent him from seeing anything past them. Behind him, the terrain angled upward, and he couldn’t see anything past a hundred feet or so. But if he walked up the shallow incline, he’d reach higher ground, and might get a better view of his surroundings. He strode up the incline, his shoes crunching on the dirt and small pebbles underfoot. After a few minutes, the terrain leveled off, revealing what lay beyond.
He stopped abruptly.
There, maybe a quarter-mile ahead, a long row of huge wooden pillars rose from the ground. They looked to be twenty feet tall, and sitting on top of them were big, flat stone slabs. These slabs were rectangular, and joined together to form an unbroken ceiling above the wooden pillars. The structure extended to the left and right like a crude bridge as far as he could see, curving slightly with the terrain. There was enough space between the pillars for him to easily walk through.
He hesitated, then strode forward toward the bridge-like structure, looking left and right. It looked like it was deserted, but the fact that it even existed meant that someone had to have built it. That meant there were people here.
People who might have met Mom.
Hunter walked up to one of the huge wooden pillars, putting a hand on it. It was warm and dry, with countless splinters sticking out of it. The stone slabs twenty feet above sent a broad shadow across the ground, making it significantly cooler here. The structure was maybe forty feet wide, supported by four rows of the wooden pillars, and beyond these he saw more lifeless terrain. He frowned. It didn’t make any sense…why would someone build a structure like this? It couldn’t be a wall, not with the gaps in between the pillars. So what was it?
Strange.
He walked between the first row of pillars, then the second, reaching the third row.
Then heard a thump.
He froze, staring straight ahead, between the rows of pillars. Someone was sprinting toward him. A dark figure against the bright blue sky.
Hunter backpedaled quickly, then felt his back strike the pillar behind him. The shadowy figure bounding toward him grew larger as it got closer, maybe a hundred feet from the pillars and closing in fast. Hunter squeezed between the pillars behind him, then through the first pair of pillars. The figure was gaining on him quickly, almost at the other side of the structure now. Hunter continued to backpedal, watching as the figure reached the closest pillar. Whoever it was was huge. Easily eight feet tall, with shoulders so broad they scraped against the pillars on either side as it squeezed past them. It was wearing some kind of suit, he realized…black armor that covered it from head to toe. Except something was wrong…just below its arms were a second pair of arms. It reached the second set of pillars quickly, squeezing past them…and behind the figure, another armored figure was sprinting toward him.
Shit!
Hunter’s heart leaped in his throat, and he turned away from the two, breaking into an all-out run.
There was shouting from above and behind, and he ran faster, pushing his legs to the limit. He heard a high-pitched whistling sound, and then a piercing scream far behind him. The thump, thump of heavy footsteps grew louder, and Hunter glanced back, seeing the two armored figures not fifty feet from him now, and closing in fast, moving across the packed dirt with terrifyingly speed.
Shit shit shit!
He heard more shouting from behind, and looked past the two figures, at the structure behind them. There, standing on top of the stone slabs supported by the pillars, were several men shouting and gesturing frantically.
Then the nearest armored figure caught up with him, ramming him from behind.
Hunter cried out, falling headlong into the packed dirt. His shoulder struck the ground, pain shooting through it. The world spun around him madly as he went into a roll, stopping at last on his belly in the dirt. He scrambled onto his hands and knees, then felt cool arms encircling his waist. He looked down, seeing black hands clutching at his belly, attached to forearms with long, thick black armored plates. He felt himself being lifted upward, his hands and knees rising off the ground.
“Get off me!” he yelled, flailing wildly. He kicked back as hard as he could, feeling his foot strike something as hard as rock. He didn’t even hear a grunt. The arms around him squeezed painfully tight, and then the thing holding him turned around, running back toward the structure.
The men on top of the structure shouted again, and Hunter heard a high-pitched whizzing sound to his left. The armored figure flanking the one carrying him jerked backward, an arrow sticking out of its eye.
“Got him!” he heard one of the men on the structure shout.
The thing holding Hunter bent over, bounding on all fours now, its second pair of arms carrying Hunter less than a foot off the ground. It tucked its head down, aiming for the gap between two of the pillars ahead. More whizzing sounds shot through the air, and Hunter heard a dull thunk as an arrow struck whoever was holding him. He heard a loud grunt, but the thing continued forward, racing between the first two pillars.
“Help!” Hunter cried.
And then something slammed into his captor’s right side, sending them flying to the left…right into a wooden pillar.
Hunter felt the arms around his waist let go, heard a loud thump as the thing slammed head-first into the pi
llar. He was thrown to the side, landing on his back and sliding to one side of the pillar, his back scraping against the packed dirt below. He slid to a stop, then scrambled to his feet, running toward the other end of the structure.
“STOP!” he heard someone cry.
He glanced backward, spotting the armored figure rising to its feet.
Then it sprinted toward him.
He swore, pumping his legs harder, his lungs burning with the effort. But the thing caught up to him easily, reaching out with one hand to grab him. He feinted to the left, then angled sharply to the right, avoiding its grasp. But it was no use; it tracked him easily, reaching out again and yanking on his backpack. He lost his balance, his legs shooting forward from underneath him, and landed on his butt on the hard earth. Pain shot up his tailbone, and he cried out, pulling against his backpack straps. He managed to slip out of them, and shot to his feet…but not before something slammed into his upper back, throwing him onto his belly on the ground.
He rolled over onto his back, his eyes going wide.
The armored figure towered over him, monstrously huge. It stared down at him with jet-black eyes. Where the whites of its eyes should have been, there was only black. Its skin was utterly black, with a wide nose, prominent cheekbones, and wide, thick lips. Black armor extended from the sides of its head downward to the backs of its shoulders and neck, and long, tubular antennae sprouted from in front of its small ears, extending upward. A thick, translucent membrane ran like a mohawk from the top of its head down its spine, terminating in a short, broad tail. The membrane appeared to be filled with a blue, glowing, gel-like substance.
The creature tossed Hunter’s backpack at him, then reached down to grab him.
Hunter shoved its hand away, scrambling up to his backpack and fumbling with the zipper. He managed to open it, and reached inside, feeling cool metal under his fingertips…Dad’s revolver.
“Get back!” he shouted, pulling the revolver out and pointing it right at the thing’s face. But it swung one hand, slapping the revolver out of Hunter’s grasp. He backpedaled, turning to run again.