Cave Crawlers

by Alex Laybourne

  With one creature to go, Justin felt more confident than ever, but the swinging club shot from the darkness and hit his thigh, buckling his leg beneath him and sending him to the floor. Opening his mouth to scream, Justin saw the second blow coming and moved just in time, the club catching him on the arm instead of directly in the face. Rolling twice, he forced himself to create some distance between him and his attacker.

  With the wall of the shaft for support, Justin tried to stand, but his leg was dead and the creature was on him again. Its hands grabbed at him while hungry teeth snapped close to his face. Pushing back, he shoved the thing backward. Its body was solid and heavy, but it gave Justin a little room to raise the sword he still clutched in one hand. The lantern had fallen to the floor, but its light still gave enough visibility for Justin to watch his target.

  The creature charged again. It seemed to regard the sword as a clubbing weapon rather than anything else, for it came straight forward, impaling itself through the chest. A grunt of near surprise escaped its lips as Justin withdrew the blade and with a backhanded strike, as if playing a tennis stroke, Justin sliced the belly of the thing open. The wound parted like a smile, before stretching into a yawn, vomiting a mix of blood and guts to the floor.

  The stench was unlike anything Justin could find a description for and made him retch, but he needed to get to his brother.

  Justin snatched the lantern from the ground and raised it high, in the hopes of finding Declan.

  “Declan?” Justin called, gasping when his brain finally interpreted what stretched out before him.

  Even with the help of the mineral reflections in the cave ceiling, the light did not spread its reaches through the entire chamber, but it showed enough. Eggs. Hundreds and hundreds of eggs, some as large as a child, and others that looked like regular bird’s eggs, piled high, in rough heaps.

  Justin saw the broken shells before he saw his brother, following the train of fractured casings until he came to the mound of feasting bugs. They moved like a flood, engulfing the body. The only way Justin could tell there was a body underneath was because of the pool of blood that spread out from beneath them.

  “Declan,” Justin bellowed with a tired roar, dropping to his knees as his final shreds of sanity began to snap.

  He could feel them breaking and heard the twang of a breaking guitar string as one by one they gave up, like the final strands of rope holding the heroine in place while the hero desperately tries to make it to her in time.

  “I’m sorry, bro,” Justin whispered.

  “Justin?” The voice took a moment to register through his grief.

  Justin looked around, sure he had been hearing things. A ghostly echo of his brother’s trapped soul.

  “Justin.” It came again, and as Justin peered over into the cave, he saw his brother.

  Declan stood with his back pressed hard against the wall, trying to keep as far back from the bugs as possible. A large scorpion, whose barbed stinger was curled and ready, weeping thick drops of venom, was surrounded by small variants, as well as more of the cave spiders they had encountered earlier.

  To the other side, something screamed as a fight broke out between three freshly hatched insects, each the size of a puppy. They tore at each other with vicious strikes, attacking until all three were dismembered; two dead, and one wounded and dying.

  “Declan, hold on, I’ll get you out,” Justin called, getting to his feet as he looked for a ladder or something that would serve a similar purpose.

  His eyes fell on the corpse of the nearest creature. It wouldn’t help Declan escape, but it could buy him some time. Justin grabbed the body, and heaved it towards the edge, almost falling in himself as the body caught on a rock, and suddenly shot free.

  After changing position, to get better leverage, he pushed the corpse over the edge and watched as bugs swarmed on it like a plague. The sound of their hungry mouths stripping flesh from bone soon echoed, but when some left to feast, others replaced them. Soon, more than before were bearing down on Declan. They had him surrounded, pinned against the wall.

  “Get out of here, brother. I got this,” Declan said, waving his brother away as he dodged a stinger attack from the scorpion. The pointed tip stuck into the wall, the mud hissing as it injected venom into the hole.

  “No, I’m getting you out. Just hold on,” Justin called back, looking down each branch of the tunnel, wondering where he could find something.

  “There’s no time. Get out of here; get back to your family.” Declan was as good as pleading with his brother.

  “You are my family, the only blood I’ve got left.” Justin felt tears sting his eyes at the thought of losing the brother. They had only just been reunited and the loss nauseated him as it swirled around his exhausted mind.

  “Get back to your wife and kids. They love you, man. I’ll be fine here.” Declan tried to hide the fear in his voice but failed. He was too tired.

  “I’m not going back without you. I waited for years to get you back, I’m not letting you become a prisoner again just because of me.” Justin’s throat closed up, his mouth running dry.

  “That’s what big brothers are for,” Declan said, smiling at Justin. “You have a good life, man. I’ve got nothing. Toss me something to fight back with and get going.”

  “Good life? My wife is a drunk, she doesn’t want to stop and I can’t make her. The kids are getting older and then what, I’ll be left with a drunk, and enough money to let her pickle herself with.” Justin loved his wife, but he couldn’t keep hiding the truth.

  “I know, man, but she loves you. She’s in pain, so that’s all the more reason to get back up there and help her through it.” Declan dodged again, but into the path of a cave spider, his hungry pincers raking a chunk of flesh from his thigh, dropping Declan to one knee. “Go!”

  Gripping the sword, Justin watched, helpless, as the creatures closed their ranks around his brother. His hand trembled as tears began to fall.

  “Go,” Declan said one last time, his eyes finding his brother’s, locking onto them. It was a moment, but it was all they needed. It said everything they had never said and reiterated everything that had been voiced before. It was cementing their bond, yet severing their ties.

  Justin heaved the sword forward, its weight suddenly tripling in his hand. Throwing it through the air, it traveled with the perfect, movie-style arc, landing in Declan’s outstretched hand, descending into an immediate swing that severed the inquisitive mandible of the cave spider. Gouts of black blood pumped from the wound and caught the attention of the creatures nearby. Sensing its vulnerability, they descended.

  Justin remained where he was for as long as he could, but watching only made it worse. He knew that the Crawleigh natives were coming for them. They would have heard them and either found or felt the trail of bodies and damage they had left behind.

  With the burden of guilt spreading through his soul, Justin left the lantern where it was, unable to abandon his brother to darkness also. Justin turned and fled. He could hear grunts and heavy footfalls behind him and knew something was waiting in the darkness. He ran as fast as he could, allowing his memory to guide him through the pitch-black tunnels. He stumbled once when his feet caught on a raised railroad sleeper that supported the mine tracks.

  He teetered for a moment, but managed to keep his balance, Justin raced back passed the hanging bodies and their haunting echo of the lost years. He raced into the main chamber where the light of the lanterns cast an eerie glow, giving birth to the hall as he approached it.

  He didn’t have time to stop and consider if it was still empty because he couldn’t afford to stop. He knew that if he did, he would break down and never make it out of the cave alive. He thought of his daughters and of his wife. He used their power in this life to drive his energy into his legs, while the tears of leaving his brother threatened to burn his eyes like acid.

  He burst into the lit chamber, and headed straight for the tallest ladder
, the one he had started to ascend earlier when something kicked his legs out from under him. He tumbled, hitting the ground hard, his already aching head absorbing a lot of the impact. Pain engulfed his body, radiating through him like a shockwave.

  Justin tried to use his momentum to right himself but only succeeded in making it halfway to his feet before careening into a wall. His energy gone, he could do nothing but slip to the ground. His chest heaved from the exertion, while his lungs screamed out for more oxygen than he could ever hope to give them.

  When Justin opened his eyes he saw the creature standing before him. Yet even then, he couldn’t muster the energy to scream. The creature was old, its face folded in on itself the wrinkles were so heavy. Justin thought that they would find dust from the original founding families buried within the skin folds should anybody unravel the men and go looking for it.

  Behind him, holding off at a distance, was a hoard of the creatures, each one armed with some implement or another. Their bodies were deformed, the faces misshapen, the byproducts of years of inbreeding and societal segregation. It was clear that they were waiting for the order to attack, which meant that the man standing before Justin was some kind of leader or elder.

  The hand shot out and grabbed Justin by the shirt sleeve. He was surprisingly strong and hauled Justin to his feet effortlessly.

  Terror had settled in, and Justin couldn’t move. No matter how loud his mind screamed to him, he was frozen in place, as if a spell had been cast upon him. He was helpless as the old man walked around him.

  There was something about the man that made him seem more human than the rest. He carried himself with a sturdier posture. Confidence came to Justin’s mind as he watched the man circle around him, inspecting him like a piece of livestock up for auction.

  The man moved full circle, his eyes squinting as he took in everything he needed to see, appraising Justin for some hidden agenda.

  With his circuit completed the man stood, his arms folded, only increasing his human characteristics.

  “You are strong,” he croaked, in a voice not conditioned to talking for long periods, but clearly still well practiced in the art.

  “What?” Justin asked, his voice shaking.

  “You are strong. You have fought well. We need fresh blood for the next generation to thrive.” The man’s voice was lacking in any discernable accent, which made it unusually hard to follow the words.

  “Blood? You want to kill me?” Justin asked, finding himself strangely drawn to the idea. His body ached and he could not run anymore.

  “No, we wish to breed you.” The words hung in the air, and for a moment Justin wondered if what he had heard was true.

  “Excuse … excuse me?” Justin stammered.

  “When we were driven from our lands, for the crime of witchcraft, the settlers assumed they had condemned us to our deaths, but there are forces larger than those that roam the earth. The spirits saw to it that we were protected, our families given the chance to survive. What you see here is the beginning. The original families, we live deeper, but even our time is growing short. We must have fresh blood to restore out bloodlines and keep us strong.” The man wheezed, growing tired from the exertion of talking.

  “No, no,” Justin said, willing his feet to move, but every time he felt as if he were about to break free, the old man resettled his gaze and the restraints tightened once more.

  “You have no choice. You were sent to us; the spirits saw to it that you survived. You are a warrior. Come with me, and you will spawn a new generation.” The man held out his hand, the fingers gnarled and twisted, the joints swollen and bulbous. The skin was grey and lifeless, like that of a corpse.

  The extended arm shook with a tremor that could not be controlled, and Justin realized that in spite of the man’s power, he was still scared of dying.

  Justin felt the power holding him lift, just enough for him to move. He twitched, tempted to move his arm and take the man’s hand, when suddenly, it disappeared, falling away from his body to land on the hard cave floor. Black blood spurted from the remaining stump, and the overwhelming odor filled the air. It was like a dirty fishpond on a hot day. It was the scent of death and decay.

  Howling like a wounded animal, the man backed up, clutching at his injured arm. He dropped to his knees, the agony overriding any remaining power that the man held in his body.

  The sword sliced through the air with a delicate whistle, slicing through the elder’s neck, removing the head from its body and sending it arcing towards the back of the cave.

  Declan stood holding the sword like a batter holding a pose after hitting a game-winning home run. His body was covered in so much blood it looked like he was painted up for a special night-ops mission. The whites of his eyes burned vividly and bright against the black-shaded backdrop that was his flesh.

  He looked at Justin in a strange moment of calm, before the charging storm settled over them.

  Justin nodded at his brother, who nodded in return, and then they charged towards the ladder.

  Declan dropped the sword and started to climb, as the ring of waiting Crawleigh natives charged, their growls turning into the hoots and hollers of a pack on the hunt. Climbing as fast as he could, Declan ascended the bone ladder, struggling to move through the double step where one of the bone rungs was broken.

  He could hear the approaching hoard behind him and felt the ladder tremble in its fixtures as they charged up behind him. He chanced a glance over his shoulder, and was relieved when he saw Justin climbing also, his eyes staring up at his brother. Further back, a sea of grey flesh gave chase, scurrying up the ladders with an agility that defied their appearance. Using all four limbs with equal effectiveness, they rose at a pace, with the early leaders swing clubs in useless attempts at catching their prey.

  Declan felt the ladder give, the weight of the pursuing horde pulling it away from the wall. He heard the wall crack as the compact earth yielded to the stress being applied.

  Looking up, Declan saw the tunnel they were aiming for. He had no idea where it would lead, but had to hope it was a step closer to escaping. They had come so far.

  “Declan, it’s falling,” Justin called as the ladder pulled further away from the wall.

  In reality, it was a small adjustment in pitch, but to the panicked mind, it felt as if they were leaning backward, with their bodies almost perpendicular to the floor below.

  “I know, just keep moving,” Declan called back.

  Something whistled through the air and Declan instinctively tucked his head in, hiding as best he could in such an exposed position.

  The spear hit the wall and embedded itself a few feet away from Declan’s head. Another followed, and another. Looking back, Declan saw the cavalry had arrived and were doing their part to catch the murderous bastards that were trying to escape.

  “Declan!” Justin cried out.

  Turning his head, Declan looked down at his brother. A spear had pierced Justin through the shoulder. It was not a deep impact, the projectile hanging loosely from his brother’s body.

  “Justin!” Declan cried out. “Keep climbing, man, we’re almost there.”

  “They are going to catch us, man,” Justin said as the first hungry hand reached him. He jumped up a rung, moving out of their way, but it was a matter of time.

  “No, we can make it,” Declan said, knowing he was lying. They were too fast, too close to them.

  “Go, I got this, brother,” Justin said, a strange calm in his voice. The words carried a chilling note of finality, and Declan shuddered as he processed them.

  “Don’t you dare,” he growled as he tried to find a way to turn back and grab Justin.

  “It’s fine, man, after all, it’s what little brothers are for. I love you, brother.” Justin smiled up at Declan, his eyes glistening with tears, glinting the same as the minerals that twinkled in the rock above their heads, like stars trapped underground.

  Justin fell a short way before hitting
the mass of bodies, driving them from the ladder, pulling them with him as he hit the free fall to the floor.

  Declan couldn’t move. “Justin,” he bellowed, unable to look away even as his brother’s body hit the floor, exploding as a result of the impact.

  The temptation to throw himself to the floor, to follow his brother into the peace of death was a tempting one. Declan let go of the ladder with one hand, allowing his bodyweight to pull the ladder further away from the wall. It would be easy.

  A growl brought him back to his senses. Looking up, Declan stared right into the single eye of a particularly deformed native. The thing opened its mouth and bellowed again, the few teeth it had small and pointed. They made Declan think of a shark.

  His legs moved while his mind still wanted to stay. The survival instinct buried deep within him rose up to assume control.

  He charged up the ladder, with a few of the natives still in pursuit, Declan hauled himself up and into the tunnel opening. Rolling immediately onto his back, he kicked at the ladder sides until they came away from the wall. A few more strikes and he was done. The ladder became fully disconnected from its fittings and fell backward, spilling everybody that was still on it to the cave floor.

  “I’m sorry, brother.” Even though he knew his brother was dead, an overwhelming sense of guilt took hold of Declan as he thought about abandoning his brother to the cave. “I’ll come back.”

  Alone, and safe, for the time being, Declan fell onto his back, panting, gasping for air as if he had just finished running a marathon. There was no time to rest, however. He needed to get moving.

  Hauling himself to his feet, he found he could just about stand in the tunnel, which rose steeply, deepening the burn that was already eating its way through his leg muscles.

  Tired, and broken, his shoulder throbbing from the bite wound, and with blood still flowing from the as-of-yet unassessed wounds inflicted by the bugs during his escape from the hatchery, Declan forced himself on. He could hear the rabble behind him and knew it would only be a matter of time before they reached him. They knew the tunnels better than he did and were not being held back by the anchor that was their conscience.