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Fractured Everest Box Set

Page 11

by D. H. Dunn


  Drew had felt the buckling of the stone which triggered memories of heavy swells at sea. He arched himself to the right just before the worm broke the surface, avoiding the full force of the beast’s arrival. Wanda was thrown from her feet and she rolled along the ground and collided with Nima.

  The worm turned, twitching toward where Kad was tending to Merin. It lifted its pinkish head in the air for a moment, swaying as if it were sensing something in the air, then it dropped to the ground and began inch-worming its way toward them at a surprising pace. Kad was hunched over his wife and unaware of the impending threat.

  Drew ran after the creature before he even thought about doing so. Catching up with the worm, he bent down and grabbed it with both hands, pulling it up and away from the stone. The skin of the worm was slick and damp, and it weighed far more than Drew expected.

  It was surprisingly strong as it twisted in his grasp. Its struggles unbalanced Drew and he fell on his back to the stone floor. He grunted in pain at the impact but was able to keep his grip on the worm.

  With the creature’s horrifying maw only a foot from his face, Drew afforded a view into its gullet, row upon row of teeth like tiny knives. Green, viscous fluid began to churn inside its mouth, producing a stench of rotting refuse that assaulted him like an attack.

  Just as the worm’s mouth was about to bubble over with the verdant bile, Drew threw the beast away from him, his fingers gripping so hard his fingers pierced the foul, moist skin. Landing on the stone a few feet away, the worm burrowed back into the earth. Drew fought against the pain in his back as he struggled to get back on his feet.

  The cries and shouts of another attack came to his ears, the firing of Ham’s strange gun sounding like the vibrations of struck metal.

  A burst of stone just next to his head signaled another worm’s assault. A shadow crossed Drew’s vision as the beast arched overhead, at least ten feet above the stone.

  Dazed, Drew watched the long, thick snake-like body of the worm hang in the air above him for a moment. In the dim light, he gauged this one to be slightly larger than the two before, it seemed to be about Nima’s size. In desperation he pulled his revolver, aiming the weapon as the creature writhed in the air, back toward Drew.

  He dodged the spittle leaking off the its teeth and heard the fluid hiss into the dirt next to his ear. Pointing the barrel right into the creature's dark maw, he pulled the trigger, willing the rounds to go between the circular row of teeth. The weapon gave an empty, useless click in response, a dull waste of metal in his hands. He could see a new collection of green liquid forming on the fangs as the worm dropped quickly back toward him.

  Nima crashed into the worm just as it was about to land on Drew, the maw aimed at his head. As effective as any block he had laid on the football field in high school, the small Sherpa leaned in with her shoulder and sent the creature sprawling several yards away. Nima caught a small spray of spittle for her trouble, crying out as the acid raised boils on her arm. She landed on top of Drew, who caught her and cushioned her fall.

  “Thank you, little sister,” he said, coughing as she rolled off him.

  Drew used the sleeve of his coat to brush the liquid from her shoulder, wincing as he saw a small section of her skin slide off with it, causing her to yell out again.

  “Ouch!” she said, getting up. “I couldn’t let that thing get you―let’s just get some of that stuff Kad was using.”

  Wanda rushed over, having grabbed some mushrooms of her own and quickly began working them into Nima’s arm. The young Sherpa nodded in approval and allowed Drew to pull her back to her feet with her good hand.

  “My grandmother made me this shirt―she will be upset,” Nima said with a nervous laugh.

  Merin was standing again, leaning at an angle with her arm across her husband’s shoulders for support. Drew noticed the trembling had subsided. “Ham has driven them from the camp,” she said. “Before when we have seen them, they have been attracted to the large mushrooms, we are not sure why. We do not have these creatures on our Out, nor does Ham.”

  “They are not from our world either,” Wanda said.

  “Perhaps they are native to the Under,” Kaditula said. “Or from another Out. It does not matter; the question is the why. Why attack us? They have not done so before, not without our disturbing their nests.”

  “Which we have learned to avoid,” Merin added. “Perhaps the Others disturbed them.”

  “Or perhaps it is as I have said.” Ham approached them from the camp. “These people are the cause.”

  Drew saw the weapon in Ham’s hands was indeed a rifle, though it was not of a design he had ever seen. A series of lights and numbers flashed on its side, reminding Drew of radar equipment. Even the metal looked unknown to him.

  “We did not ask to be here,” Nima said, leaping to her feet and facing the Korean. “We came here to save one of our own. My brother.”

  “I am not interested in your own,” Ham said. “We have been here for weeks, trying to find a way back. Now we must worry about the worms you’ve brought! We cannot fight them, even these small ones. What if he comes? What if . . .”

  With a sudden shift Drew could feel under his feet, the rumbling started again. It grew louder at a rapid pace, the vibrations shaking the entire cavern. Several stalactites broke loose and fell, bats flew through the dim light in response, small trails of flame following them.

  The center of camp suddenly exploded in a cataclysm of stone and rock, sending a shock wave through the cavern. Just before the cacophony silenced all other sound, Drew heard Ham’s fearful cry.

  “It is him! It is Vihrut!”

  The impact of the beast’s arrival shrouded the cavern in dust, while the shockwave rippled the ground underneath their feet.

  Drew barely kept his footing upon the lurching stone, his years at sea giving him the balance the others lacked. Blinking his eyes against the grit in the air, he saw both Wanda and Nima toppling to the ground from the force of the explosion.

  His ears were useless, his hearing was dominated by an endless ringing. The dim light of the cavern showed little but dust at first, the force of Vihrut’s arrival filling the air with clouds of debris. He could make out freshly fallen stalactites crumbled around the floor, the odd mushrooms visible inside the chaos. At the edge of the camp, the yurts slowly became visible, some now just collections of fabric and sticks. In the camp’s center, a massive shape slowly began to form inside the dust, a dark blot against the tans and grays. Finally, it emerged in a slow, fluid motion, uncoiling out of the debris like a snake.

  This was Vihrut.

  Drew had expected the beast to simply be a slightly larger version of the worms they had seen, and there was some resemblance. Mostly it was covered with the same red and yellow skin, its mouth lined with the same maw of teeth―a circle of knives dripping green vitriol. Unlike the worms though, Vihrut had a massive, translucent belly, a bulge that appeared lit from inside; Drew could see mushrooms and other shapes sloshing around. It also had rudimentary arms and legs, comically small compared to the size of its serpentine body. The body was not just slightly bulkier than the worms but was rather tenfold their size. If the worms looked like Drew’s leg, Vihrut looked like a bus. Vihrut’s mouth was ringed by dozens of eyes, each of them turning to look in his direction.

  Drew cast a quick glance at the two bodies lying at his feet. Wanda and Nima both stirred, appearing more stunned than injured. yet they were in no shape to avoid a creature such as this.

  He looked back up at the monstrosity before him, each of the beast’s eyes were fixated on Drew. Apparently, as the only figure still standing in the chamber, he had Vihrut’s attention.

  And If the others were to stay alive, he’d need to keep it.

  Vihrut was still about fifty feet from him, coiled in the center of the refugees’ shattered collection of tents, the translucent bulge of its stomach resting on the stone as it studied him.

  Between Drew an
d the beast was the most valuable item in the cavern: Ham’s rifle. Laying on the stone and half-shrouded in dust, it had been tossed away from its owner by the force of Vihrut’s arrival.

  Drew chose one eye of the many to focus on and ran forward, shouting as he did so. It was easy to tap into the fear raging in his stomach and use it to push himself forward. He needed this beast on its ass, but he needed that gun if he was going to survive.

  Vihrut surged forward, leaving the small circle of yurts in a cloud of dust. It uttered a roar like thunder as it charged Drew, slithering forward on its strange, clear belly.

  Drew got to the gun first, dropped to a knee, and pointed the barrel directly at the red-scaled menace, the ground shook from the violence of its approach. Ham’s gun was lighter than he expected and had an odd display on the side filled with numbers and gauges, their meanings a mystery to him. Hopefully he’d live long enough to ask Ham about them later.

  Drew squeezed the trigger, bracing for a kickback from the rifle that never came. The strange weapon emitted a yellow line of light, the sound reminding Drew of vibrating metal. The beam sliced into Vihrut’s shoulder like a carving knife, the creature howled in pain as a chunk of red-scaled flesh fell to the floor.

  Blood spurted from its injured arm. The beast continued forward. moving toward Drew, the huge toothed maw gaping while the clear sac of its belly dragged on the stone floor.

  Backing up, Drew felt the terror rising from the pit of his stomach. He fired again, the beam narrowly missing Vihrut’s twisting form and impacting with a far-off stalagmite. A third pull on the weapon’s trigger produced only a sharp buzzing noise, the word “overheat” flashing on the gun’s display in red letters.

  Drew froze in place. His only chance now would be to dodge Vihrut’s charge, waiting until the last moment and hoping he could move fast enough. He tried to keep his gaze fixed on the many eyes of Vihrut so as not to give the beast an early clue as to the direction of he would lurch.

  Then a small rock sailed toward Vihrut from Drew’s left, hitting the monster squarely in one of its eyes. Howling in pain, it slithered away from Drew, turning and shifting its bulk in the direction of this new attack.

  Drew looked over, horrified to see Nima kneeling down to gather another rock.

  “Over here, demon!” she yelled.

  Drew turned and ran after Vihrut, a quick pull on the rifle’s trigger happily producing another of the yellow beams which lanced into the beast’s ample back.

  Now it whirled back toward Drew again, twisting in place and kicking up a fresh cloud of dust. Her vision obscured by the chaos, Nima had no chance to avoid Vihrut’s massive tail as it swiped into her. Drew cried out as Nima’s form flew across the cavern and was lost in the shadow.

  “Nima!” he shouted after her, his voice nearly drowned out by the volume of Vihrut’s roar. Fear for her mixed with the terror he felt as the monster pursued him with renewed intensity.

  “Drew!” Wanda’s voice came above the din, though he could not see her. Between the low light, the dust, and the speed with which he ran, there was little time to get his bearings. “The red mushrooms!”

  Collections of the oversized fungus were scattered all over the cavern, but Kad and the refugees had covered all but the red-capped mushrooms with the large tarps.

  Turning so fast he felt his ankle strain, Drew headed for the nearest patch of red mushrooms he could see. He had no idea why Wanda had directed him there, but there was no time to consider it.

  A quick glance over his shoulder showed Vihrut still close in pursuit, too close. It now chased after him with wild abandon, crashing directly through whatever obstacles were in its way, be it yurt or stone. Maybe Vihrut was after him, maybe it was the gun. It didn’t matter.

  He reached the patch of the large red fungi, a quick glance at Ham’s weapon’s display showing “overheat” again. He held the gun up high anyway, making sure his pursuer could see it. A rage-filled roar buffeted his back. Vihrut had definitely seen it.

  Drew dove into the patch of crimson mushrooms, many of them higher than his waist. He rolled onto his back as he lost his grip on the rifle and it clattered away. His hands grabbed the largest mushroom cap he could locate, ripped the slimy top off the stalk, and held it in front of him like a shield.

  The maw of Vihrut now filled his vision, the charging beast seconds from consuming him. Drew could see down the deep tunnel of its throat, the gateway to the distended belly that sloshed beyond. Teeth as long as his hand dripped green bile, hot breath covered him as Vihrut closed the last few feet between them.

  With a scream, Drew launched the crimson fungus at the beast and rolled to the side. He fully expected the creature crash on top of him and wondered if he would feel the teeth before he died.

  When the impact came, he was thrown several feet by the force of the monster colliding with the ground. Numb from the blow, he lay prone on the ground and was pelted by debris. Drew forced his eyes to open.

  Vihrut lay on its side, convulsing slightly. From its maw, bubbles of a strange, pink foam seeped onto the ground accompanied by a low, hacking sound. The small limbs writhed, reached for its mouth, clawed hands clutched uselessly. The cavern thundered as Vihrut banged its tail on the ground.

  Drew felt hands under his arms, the stone floor moving beneath him as he was dragged away. The muffled voices came through the ringing in his ears, faint but understandable.

  “Drew!” Wanda shouted. “Can you hear me?” She held a small cup of water to his lips. He tried to swallow, coughing nearly as much fluid up as Vihrut was doing. The great worm was still close enough to make the three of them shake as the beast continued convulsing.

  “Drew!” Wanda repeated. “Are you all right?”

  “Never better,” Drew said, finally getting some of the water down his throat. He noticed his right arm was throbbing, a quick look showed several cuts that had torn through his shirt. Claws? Rocks? Drew supposed it didn’t matter right now.

  The pounding stopped. Vihrut lay motionless for a moment. There was an audible intake of air―it reminded Drew of the time his ship had been breached―then Vihrut launched a red stream of viscous fluid from its mouth. The sickening mass of its ejection lay on the ground in a bubbling pool. It then turned its tooth-filled maw toward the ground, a great maelstrom of dirt and debris rising as a sound like a hundred jackhammers filled the cavern.

  Drew squinted through the grit and dust, peering at the large stone hole that had been bored into the floor. Vihrut was gone.

  “Where--?” Drew started, before coughing again. Nima offered him more water, which he accepted. “Others?”

  “Kaditula and Merin are escorting the rest to a smaller cavern nearby,” Wanda explained. “Ham disappeared into a tent, I don’t know where he is. It seems you distracted the beast long enough for the others to escape.”

  “Hooray,” Drew said weakly, coughing again. There was some concern bouncing in his mind, some worry that had been buried beneath his pain and confusion. Then he felt a chill clench around his heart as he realized what it was.

  Nima!

  Drew pushed himself back onto his feet, trying to ignore the pain that accompanied every movement. He shuffled forward toward the remains of the camp, his thoughts only of Nima.

  Out of the dust, Kad ran toward him, sloshing across the thin stream. The man’s arms were brimming with small mushrooms and bandages, none of which had been applied to Kad’s own wounds.

  “Friend Drew!” he cried, quickly applying a mashed-up mix of blue and green fungus to the deep cuts on his shoulder.

  Drew hissed at the pain, then gritted his teeth as Kaditula stood on his heels to reach up and tie a bandage to keep the concoction applied.

  “We saw how you faced Vihrut!” Kad said while turning his attention to Wanda. “Friend Drew, there will be no trades for you. All I have is yours.”

  “Nima,” Drew said, with Wanda nodding in agreement. “Nima―that thing knocked her into the
air. We did not see . . . is she . . . ?” He could not bring himself to say the word. Nima’s smiling face continually floated up in his mind. Despite her small size, she had always seemed unstoppable.

  “She lives,” Kad said.

  Drew felt a weight leave him, taking a great gulp of air into his lungs. After Artie, after Mom . . . At least he would not lose her, too. From Wanda he thought he could hear a whisper. A prayer or a curse, he could not tell.

  “Luck of the sky, that one,” Kad said. “Fell right on my tent. It took most of the impact. Merin is tending to her few cuts, you are hurt worse than she. Nima may owe me a tent now, but I am sure I have much to trade her.”

  Allowing his concerns for Nima to fade for a moment, Drew turned to Wanda. “Red mushrooms? I don’t know why, but that worked.” He resisted the urge to sit, to collapse. Weariness ran through him like blood. “You saved all of our asses, there.”

  “Simple deduction,” Wanda said. She took a step away from Drew, away from his gaze. “Kaditula and his mate covered the other mushrooms, presumably to avoid them attracting the worms. They left the red ones uncovered, which led me to suspect the creatures had a distaste for them.”

  “Well,” Drew said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

  With a slow effort Wanda walked away from Drew’s hand, which he allowed to fall uselessly to his side.

  “No thanks are needed,” she said, reaching into her pack to remove her notebook. Drew found himself staring wordlessly at her back as she wrote.

  “I will say thank you,” Ham’s voice came from behind them. He walked up to them, slinging the strange rifle over his shoulder.

  “What is this weapon?” Drew asked. “I have never seen a gun like that.”

  “I doubt you’ve seen most of what I’ve lived with,” Ham said with a shrug. “You live in a time of teletypes and radar. Torpedoes and engines and . . . conventional weapons. You think man is good at killing now?” Ham tossed his weapon to the ground, where it skidded for a few feet before coming to rest against the large group of crimson mushrooms. “Man gets better at it.”

 

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