by Adam Carter
He stopped walking, frowning to himself. They had found a campsite and believed it to have been made by someone who had landed on this world. They were chasing Seward but he always seemed to be able to stay one step ahead of them; he knew the swamp better than they did after all. And they had this dinosaur-man lurking around various corners.
What if all three were the same being? What if for some reason Seward was purposefully eluding them, had feigned the visitor from space and somehow turned into a dinosaur? Maybe he had skinned something and wore its hide. Garza was certain whatever he had seen had not been a man in a suit, but he had been afraid, tired and confused. Perhaps that had been precisely what he had seen; or maybe Seward was some weird kind of Jekyll and Hyde; it would explain why he went out into the marshes all the time anyway.
Garza shook his head. The oppressive swamp air was starting to get to him if he thought even half of that was true.
“Abe.”
He turned to find the two women approaching him slowly. They stood apart, and he could tell by the red-eyed haughty expression from Aubin that she still wasn’t talking to Honeywood. Honeywood however seemed to have shaped up a tad and Garza was glad. She was still the most capable of them, and therefore the most likely to survive. If Garza intended to get out of this place in one piece he could do far worse than sticking as close to Honeywood as possible.
“Glad you changed your mind,” he told them. “Do we have any particular direction to go or are we just guessing at the moment?”
“We’ll head in roughly the same direction we were before. Maybe we’ll get lucky. What we really need is somewhere to spend the night.”
That much was true. Darkness was coming quickly upon them, and upon this world you could blink and it would suddenly be pitch-black. They resumed their march therefore, each step taking them further and further into blackness.
Before long they came to an odd feature to the landscape, for the darkness before them was absolute, while behind and to the sky there was still some semblance of light. Garza desperately wanted to shine a torch on things, but that was a terrible idea when so many of the predators of this world were nocturnal. Instead he moved forward, his hand held before him as he slowly examined the area. His fingers brushed against something and his initial instinct was to recoil. Reaching out once more he found his fingers contacting something which was solid, hard and cold.
“It’s rock,” he said, perplexed. “It’s a rock wall of some kind.”
Honeywood was by his side in an instant, her own hands feeling around. “Well it’s not manmade. I’d say it was a mountain.”
Garza felt very foolish for not having made that connection himself. “Yes,” he said. “I didn’t know there were any mountains on this world.”
“Sure beats swamp. Come on, let’s take a look.”
It was an exciting discovery, since no one had ever found anything outside the swamp. It was possible they had actually reached the edge of the swamp and Garza marvelled at all the things they may well find beyond it. They had no flight within the prison: no gliders or probes or anything. They had no idea what could be out this far, and the very thought that the terrain might be different on the other side of the mountain was exhilarating. Even the mountain itself represented something they had never considered before.
The three of them eagerly followed the mountain around, keeping a hand to the rock when the undergrowth allowed them to. Garza was moving so quickly he almost fell and barely caught himself as he realised there was an opening in the ground before him. He peered into the gloom, although could see nothing.
“This is silly,” Honeywood said, and suddenly there was a flare of light and Garza realised she had struck a match. She dropped it immediately into the hole and Garza could see the rocks illuminated as it fell. In the brief moment before it flickered out he could see it was a gap in the mountain, rather than a hole in the ground, and led down to the valley floor.
“We need to be careful here,” he said. “Perhaps we should camp out here for the night and descend in the morning.”
“Or we could lose the trail of that marshosaurus,” Honeywood suggested, “by passing through a hole it won’t fit through.”
It was a good enough argument, although since they really didn’t know what lay awaiting them on the valley floor Garza wasn’t all that certain it was an especially valid one.
They took their time moving down the rocks. Honeywood went first, and Garza helped Aubin as much as he could. The light was poor, and a single misstep could send them all careening down to their deaths. The girl accepted his hand one or twice when she slipped, although otherwise gave no indication that she intended to lean on him for support. The formerly bright and cheery girl had devolved into a morose, pallid mess, and not for the first time Garza wondered whether she was correct and Honeywood had indeed left Stiggs to die just so she could herself escape. Speculation aside, however, the truth was Aubin would never trust Honeywood again, and if Garza put a foot wrong he would be on her hate-list also.
They reached the bottom of the descent within only fifteen or twenty minutes and Garza found the ground here sandy, which led him to believe this was a real mountain valley. The sheer rock faces standing on all sides blocked out what little light there was, and Garza wondered what manner of creatures might call this place home. He desperately wanted to explore, for this was an environment otherwise unknown upon this world. Everyone back at the prison assumed the world was all swamp, and yet if there were mountains and dry valleys there might well be deserts and forests, even oceans. Worlds needed oceans to support life, of course, although he knew full well this was an artificial world, and for all he knew there could be some form of weather machine at the centre of the globe, churning out rainclouds and absorbing precipitation.
He breathed in deeply of the cool, swamp-free air. The scent was unusual, dry and fresh. This was certainly no swamp, he thought with a smile.
“We’ll camp down for the night,” Garza decided before Honeywood could decide to press on into the darkness. “We can pick up the trail again in the morning.”
“What trail?” Honeywood scoffed. “We’re not following a trail; we’re just walking around now. Any sign of Garret is long gone. You got any food left?”
Garza had not thought of that, although he was the last remaining member of their party with a backpack: they had not gone back to retrieve anything Stiggs may have had upon his person.
They did not erect their last remaining tent, for it was a one-person affair and would never have fit them all. Instead they simply bedded down with what they had. They lit no torch and ate dry, cold rations in silence. Garza set his back to one of the rock walls and arranged his backpack behind his head to use as a pillow. He noted Aubin had curled up into a ball some way from both of them, and nowhere at all near Honeywood. Honeywood herself had made no attempt to aid either of them and lay on her back, staring at the stars.
Garza reasoned this was going to be a fun journey after all.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In her dreams Stiggs was running around with a gun, being chased by dinosaur-men and a marshosaurus wielding a machinegun. In her dreams Honeywood had spent a great deal of time trying to explain why she had done what she had done, as though justifying to herself her terrible actions. In her dreams she was drowning in the swamp while Stiggs was trying to save her by tying up Honeywood’s mouth with his bag strap.
As Aubin awoke she was brought back to reality, her dreams cascading away into gradual forgetfulness as they were wont to do. Would this be the same with everything that had happened so far? she asked herself. Would she eventually forget the events leading up to Honeywood abandoning Stiggs? Would she forget the marshosaurus and the dinosaur-man? Would she forget Stiggs?
Aubin had no answers to any of these questions, although she knew one thing for certain. She was not returning to the prison. The prison was a place where Honeywood excelled, where life roared with success and spat in the face
of the law. Aubin was not like them, not really. She was a killer, and she didn’t for one moment regret what she had done to be put here, but she was not like them. Personal gain for her meant something different to what everyone else in that place had done, and she was clearly not going to reoffend. Not unless circumstances put her in a situation where she actually had to.
Where she would go she could not say, but they had discovered this valley and that meant there was more to this world than any of them realised. When they had first taken over the prison during the riot several prisoners had set off and never returned. It had always been assumed they had perished, but there was no evidence of that. If they had made it through the swamp, as Aubin and her party had in only a few days, what reason would they have for returning? Why would they go back just to tell everyone they had left behind that there was a better life out here? They were murderers and thieves; they didn’t care about their fellow man.
And that was what Aubin would do now. She would wander, explore, and survive.
To hell with everyone else.
Stretching her aching body and instantly regretting her choice of sleeping posture, Aubin glanced around for her first look at the valley. It was indeed dusty, and drove between the tall, majestic mountains without any swampland in sight. It was rocky terrain, yet passable, and Aubin had thoughts of simply leaving now, before the others awakened. She could see Honeywood sprawled across the floor in sleep and wondered of her dreams. Did she feel anything for what she had done? Did this woman even understand regret and the pain of others?
Perhaps, but if she did she didn’t care. She was no different to the others, and if her crime had not earned her perpetual stay in this place surely her actions following had. She was the greatest pit fighter the world over: she had excelled in her exile.
Disgustedly, Aubin turned her head from Honeywood and saw Garza still asleep, leaning against the rock as he had been all night. It was a large rock unattached to the mountain, with odd protuberances poking out from it, circling its base. There were two especially large ones at the front which looked very much like horns, and in a moment of true fear Aubin realised the terrible truth.
“Abe,” she whispered, a sibilant hiss all but lost in the silence. She tried again, finding her voice at last. “Abe!” Again he did not respond and she crawled over to him, inching slowly. She placed one hand upon his bare arm, her eyes ever upon the thing behind him. “Abe!”
It might have been the physical contact, but whatever the reason Garza’s eyes shot open and he flailed with his arms, releasing a series of inconclusive sounds. Aubin winced, backing away and trying to indicate with her open hands that he should shut the hell up. Garza finally ceased his mindless flailing and frowned.
“What?”
“Abe!” she hissed again quietly, pointing behind him. “Slowly.”
Garza, still frowning, paid no attention to her, and rose quickly, drawing a knife Honeywood had loaned him and expecting some monster behind him. When all he saw was a rock he laughed. “It’s a rock, kid.” And then he struck it.
Aubin wondered whether he had been born an idiot.
The rock moved, rising on four massively powerful legs. Garza backed off slowly and Aubin felt like hitting him. The rocky form rose to two metres and shook itself into wakefulness. Its rear-legs were longer and thicker than those at its fore, and its underbelly veritably heaved with weight. It sported a short, thick neck with a flat, almost beaten face and small black eyes. There was a beak sitting at the front of its head, and no teeth that Aubin could determine, although its mouth was currently closed.
The entirety of the thing’s body aside from all of this was armour-plated. Powerful scutes ran down its entire body, with bony protrusions seemingly built into its spine. There was a row of sharp horns running horizontally across its body, halfway up; at the base of what seemed to be its shell and the top of its legs. The two massive horns Aubin had noticed earlier were situated just above the creature’s neck, almost a metre long. Its tail was broad and grandly sweeping, making the creature somewhere in the region of six metres in length. The tail was similarly spiked and armoured, ending in a flat, hard club which could likely shatter rock and would treat a human skull as human teeth would treat a grape.
The creature shook its head groggily, annoyed at having been awakened and trying to figure out what had just struck it. Garza quickly lowered his knife, but Aubin knew if there was any damage done it was already too late to start hiding things.
“We should back away slowly,” she whispered without taking her eyes off the thing.
“What about Ashley?”
“What about her?”
“Cassie!”
It was nice that Garza still cared something for their leader, although in truth Aubin was more concerned with her own survival. “It hasn’t attacked yet,” she whispered back. “Maybe if we just leave it won’t.”
And then the creature raised its small head to the sky and emitted a nasal bellow which sounded somewhere between a horn and a wail. It repeated the sound, waving its head around as it did so, and Aubin watched in horror as dozens of rocky mounds strewn throughout the valley began to rise, sporting thick legs and wondering what all the commotion was about.
“We need to get out of here,” Aubin said urgently. “Now!”
Honeywood had woken to all the noise but Aubin didn’t even notice as she and Garza fled down the valley. The raging beast raised itself on its hind legs and slammed itself down, almost sending shock waves through the ground. Aubin could see an area ahead of her which fell farther away from the valley: another path leading out of the valley through which the ankylosaurid could not follow. Her legs burned with pain as she ran, but she gave them no thought and simply ran.
Something struck her legs from behind and she fell, tumbling end over end and sliding across the gravel until her back struck harshly into the wall. At first she had feared the creature had hit her with its flat tail, although as she saw it strike again she realised what had happened. It slammed the tail into another rock, and the rock exploded, sending shards flying through the air. Aubin raised her arm before her face to protect her eyes, and felt the shards tear through her skin.
Garza dropped by her side, his own body slick with blood, panic in his eyes. “Come on, move!”
He grabbed her, but her legs refused to submit, and she stumbled once more. She was aware of Garza shouting at her but couldn’t hear the words. He hauled her savagely to her feet once more and Aubin could feel tears streaming down her face in her fear. Her legs simply would not respond and she knew at any moment she would die.
A fresh shower of rock shards assailed them and Garza released her as one struck his elbow and he pulled back his arm in pain. Aubin immediately fell in a heap upon the floor, her mind frantic, her thoughts dying as her brain seemed to shut down with the inevitability of death. She heard gunfire and was vaguely aware of Honeywood attempting to hold the beast back. The shots would do nothing to penetrate the animal’s hide, and the report of the gun was entirely drowned by the smash of the ankylosaurid’s tail.
Dragging Aubin to her feet, Garza struggled to reach the exit she had spotted, and stopped. Aubin could see it now: the path she believed would lead them to salvation. It was indeed a way out of the valley, but there was no simple way down. It was a break in the valley wall allowing them to see beyond to the swampland outside. The sides of the mountain were sheer, with a drop of perhaps fifty metres before they would hit the brackish swamp, swallowed up by the trees and digested. It made no sense for the swamp to be that far down, but it seemed the mountain range marked a point of descent on this world. Behind them was the swamp from which they had come; ahead was a new swamp, one that existed at the base of the mountains.
Perhaps the world was swamp all over after all.
“We can’t get out that way,” Garza said lamely. “We’d never survive the drop.”
“We can’t stay here.”
They both glan
ced back to see Honeywood hurrying their way, an angry dinosaur in her wake.
Garza gripped his knife so tightly he was trembling. He nodded to Aubin. “Get back. Hide yourself best you can. Ashley and I’ll hold it back, maybe draw it off or something.”
Aubin wasn’t certain she had heard him correctly. “You fight that thing and you’ll die, Abe.”
“Sure,” he said with a smile. “But at least I get to die saving a pretty girl’s life.”
Aubin’s mind was a miasma of confusion. Since coming to this world her life had been an insanity bordering on delusion. Now she was faced with someone willing to die for her, and thought back to Stiggs. Perhaps it was her. Perhaps she brought out the protective instinct in people. Perhaps in another life she may have been able to draw people from their bad ways.
“What are you here for, Abe?” she asked in a small voice, not certain she even wanted to know but knowing she had to before the end.
“In prison you mean?” He grinned. “Tax evasion. Just don’t tell anyone; would ruin the image.”
“Tax evasion?”
“Hey, if it was good enough for Capone …”
“Move!” Honeywood shouted as she reached them. The dinosaur was coming directly for them, building up what speed it could muster. Aubin noted its femur was far longer than the rest of its leg and knew the beast would not be able to run properly, but even a half-hearted charge by the thing would be enough to kill them all.
Garza gave her a good-natured shove and Aubin fell behind a rock while he and Honeywood went back out, trying to circle the beast to draw its attention from them. Aubin peered over the rock and watched in horrified fascination as they baited and danced about the creature.
And then she saw something else; something the others could not see.
Crouching low upon the ground behind the ankylosaurid was a tall, slender reptilian form with a rifle slung over its shoulder. The ankylosaurid snapped at the two humans with its beak, as they darted towards it and back, but there was no room for it to bring its powerful tail to bear. And all the while the dinosaur-man closed the gap.