by Murray, Lee
Rowan looks at Tonya, who shrugs.
“We’ll go another hundred paces, like we agreed,” Ari says. “After that, we’ll turn around.”
It turns out the spider’s den is close. Like the last one, several narrow tunnels open into the hollow cone. Ari ducks his head in and takes a peek, then pulls back quickly.
“Yep, there’s a big-arsed spidey up there at the top of the cone. I reckon it could be even bigger than the last one.”
“Ugh,” says Tonya, pulling a face.
“Did you see the screen?” Rowan asks. They haven’t got time to muck about gassing: they need to find Mathilde.
Ari is grave. “Yeah, I saw the screen. It’s in the middle of the cavern, smack dead under the arachnid. And another thing: there’s a couple of swinging parcels.”
“Shit,” says Tonya, throwing up her hands. “What are we going to do? We can’t just run in there. If it’s all the same to you guys, I’d like to see seventeen.”
But an idea—still nebulous and fuzzy—is forming in Rowan’s mind. He turns and races off back down the tunnel.
“Rowan, what the hell? Come back!” Tonya shouts.
“We need the Cron. Come on, help me.”
Rowan gets there first, shoves his shoulder under it, the stench of the creature overwhelming as he tries to half-lift, half-drag the creature towards the cavern. Hard on his heels, Ari and Tonya join in, Tonya grasping its fur and pulling from her side, straining under the creature’s bulk.
“Would someone tell me what the hell we’re doing?” she gasps.
Ari has obviously cottoned on to the idea. “We need to get it to the cave,” Ari tells her, huffing. But, after a few minutes, it’s clear the plan isn’t going to work. Rowan stands up, the others following his lead. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and considers their work. The Cron hasn’t moved more than a few metres.
“It’s hopeless, Ari,” he concedes. “It’s just too heavy.”
Turning his head to wipe his face on the sleeve of his shirt, Ari says: “What about the Xrlf?”
“It’s even bigger.”
“But Tonya turned it over just before, didn’t she?’ Ari reminds him. “She used her foot. My physics tutor used to tell us that mass isn’t necessarily a predictor of weight. It depends on the atomic mass of the substance…” Immediately, they abandon the Cron and rush to the Xrlf. Rowan grabs it by the upper limbs and Ari by the lower ones. It turns out, it’s more cumbersome than heavy. They carry it awkwardly along the tunnel to the mouth of the cavern, banging their elbows on the rocks as they pass. Rowan keeps his eyes averted, not wanting to look at the creature’s compound eyes. It’s as if the thing already knows what they plan to do. Although Tonya hasn’t got a clue. As soon as they lay the corpse down, she glares at them, her hands on her hips.
“Great, you got it here. Now what?”
Ari is bent over, his hands on his knees supporting his weight, breathing heavily. He straightens up and puts a sweaty, bloodied hand on Tonya’s shoulder. “How fast are you feeling?”
“Me? Why?”
“Because Ari and I are going to create a diversion,” Rowan answers.
“What diversion?”
“We’re going to throw Spidey some breakfast,” Rowan says. He reaches out and gives the dead Xrlf a friendly pat.
Tonya’s brown eyes widen. “You’re kidding, right? That Xrlf isn’t even alive. What if ol’ Spidey there decides it’s past its use-by date? What then?”
“It’s still warm,” Rowan says. “So it hasn’t been dead that long. And if we throw it in, the movement of it might fool the spider into thinking it’s alive.”
Tonya leans against the rock wall, her arms folded across her chest. “Yeah, well, it’s not going to be you out there if it doesn’t work, is it? It’ll be me.”
“Have you got a better idea?”
“Yes! Ari and I will throw the thing in, while you run in and play the side dish.”
“You know that’s not an option. You won’t be able to lift your end of the Xrlf. You weigh half what I do.”
Ari interrupts their bickering. “Rowan,” he says sharply, “if Tonya doesn’t want to do it, we’re not going to make her. We’re not just asking her to run a few extra metres here. We’re asking her to enter the spider’s parlour. She’ll be putting her life on the line.”
Rowan’s shoulders slump. And he’d thought it was such a good idea. Leaning against the rock wall, he slides to the ground, ignoring the bumps and bruises, and drops his head into his hands. He hadn’t counted on Tonya’s reaction. He’d thought she was so feisty. So fearless. Although he can hardly blame her for baulking. Not so long ago, he made that same dash. Would he want to do it again?
Yes! Of course, he’d do it.
But seated as he is on the ground, Rowan can see the ghostly shadow the massive arachnid casts on the cavern floor. Who’s he trying to kid? There aren’t enough cregals in the universe to make him want to run in there. He lifts his head and rubs his hands on his knees. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s just I’m out of ideas. I’ve got nothing else.”
As soon as he’s said it, Tonya leaps up, tearing at the cord at the bottom of her tunic, and ripping segments off the string. Rowan looks worriedly at Ari. Has she snapped? They’re all under huge pressure; it was bound to happen to one of them. But Tonya doesn’t seem crazed. In fact, given the set of her face and shoulders, she looks more determined than beaten.
“Here,” she says, a moment later. She hands Rowan two pieces of fabric, each just a few centimetres long, then does the same for Ari. She puts the rest of the cord in her pocket.
“What’s this?”
“Ear plugs—to drown out the spider’s song. You’re going to put them in while you’re creating your diversion, and whatever you do, don’t look at its eye.”
Rowan scrambles to his feet. She’s going to do it. Rowan’s got to hand it to her: the girl’s got guts.
“How many swings are you going to need to send the Xrlf flying?” Tonya asks. Ari looks to Rowan.
“Three?” Rowan says.
“Right, I’ll run on two, you throw on three. Let’s do this.” She turns and steps into the cavern, leaving Ari and Rowan scrambling to follow suit, each of them hauling one end of the Xrlf. Once inside, Tonya points her finger at them, the way a director might signal to his soundman, and at their respective ends of the corpse, Rowan and Ari lift the cadaver and begin to swing it. Starting cold, Rowan’s arms scream, almost pulled out of the sockets. The Xrlf might weigh less than the Cron, but it’s still heavy. Where’s that spider? Rowan forces himself to keep his eyes on Ari, his team mate’s face a rictus of effort as they set up the back swing.
One.
Rowan heaves with all his might, he and Ari bringing the Xrlf through the bottom of the arc. When the Xrfl is at his feet, a shadow falls nearby and, in his peripheral vision, Rowan spies the movement of the colossal spider dropping down its thread, lowering itself to receive its visitors. Is it singing to him of Lisa? Rowan doesn’t know. He keeps his eyes fixed on Ari as they swing the body back. Suddenly flooded with doubt, Rowan wants to scream to Tonya to stay put. It’s hopeless. She’ll die, they’ll all die…
Two.
At the upstroke, Rowan takes a deep breath to prepare for the next swing, and feels rather than sees Tonya start her run toward the screen. Rowan wills her to be fast. Please, please don’t die. The muscles in his back and legs ache with exertion. Sweat trickles down his face. Come on, man, he tells himself. Last effort. He’s not sure where Ari finds the energy to throw him a wink.
Three!
Rowan and Ari hurl the Xrlf into the air, instinctively releasing it late, and as close to vertical as they can. They don’t stop to see how far it goes. Instead, they both turn and get the hell out of there. Seconds later, Tonya dives into the tunnel behind them. Even through the earplugs, Rowan can hear her screaming, the words indistinguishable. He yanks out the plugs, flinging them away.
&nb
sp; “The spider took it! It took it,” she screams. Her face is as pale as a peppermint cream. She promptly sits down, her legs buckling in shock. “It snatched that Xrlf right out of the air. I was bogging myself. It was dangling over me—so close I could smell it—and when it lunged I felt its legs pass by my head, I felt it catch the strands of my hair! I was sure I was going to die. I just dug my heels in and ran for my life,” she says, barely pausing for breath.
“You’re not dead; none of us are dead,” Ari says, patting her on the shoulder as Rowan had petted the dead Xrlf only moments before. They wait for her to recover her composure. It takes a few minutes for her hysteria to fade and the trembling in her body to recede, but when it does, Tonya gets up and slaps the dust off her legs.
“Well, come on, you two. Let’s go.”
“But…”
“Oh, you’re wondering about the screen?” Tonya says saucily. Licking her index finger, she drags it through the air. “I nailed it… Hey.” She stops short as she catches sight of Rowan’s discarded earplugs. Indignant, she whumps him on the arm with a fist. “Don’t throw those away, you dork. We’re going to need them.”
“That’s true,” Ari says wryly, as Rowan, sheepishly stoops to retrieve them. “And we’re going to need another Xrlf too...”
Lucky for him, he doesn’t get cuffed, because Tonya’s already taken off.
8
They nearly miss Mathilde, tucked away in the gap near the front of the cavern system. If it weren’t for Tonya’s keen sense of smell—she caught a waning drift of Taikarion and made them come back—they might have missed her altogether. Mathilde gives a little jump and clasps her hands, obviously startled when Rowan pokes his head into the fissure. So the possibility of the Taikarions coming back to collect their own hadn’t escaped her either. Finding Mathilde with their dead companion might have meant a quick death for her.
Unlike her Taikarion friend.
“She died not long ago,” Mathilde says, answering their unspoken question, and Rowan can hear the pain in her voice. Mathilde has laid the Taikarion out, her arms crossed over her breast. None of them know anything about Taikarion funeral customs, so Mathilde’s decision seems as good as anything.
“I cradled her head in my lap and she let me stroke her hair. I think it’s what she wanted. At least, she seemed at peace at the end. You know, I felt the exact moment when she passed away. It was a tiny release, like a dandelion seed being tugged away from its stem, and in that moment the lime odour changed.”
“What did it smell like?” Rowan asks, as he pulls her gently to her feet, allowing cramped muscles to slowly unfold.
Mathilde pushes her chin out as she thinks. “I’ve been trying to work that out. It was less pungent. Muted. Even pleasant. There was still that hint of lime. And salt, too. That’s it: it smelled like the tang of ocean spray as you walk along the beach in the early morning. It had that new-day feeling.” She trails off for a moment, her eyes welling with tears. “That probably isn’t true, is it? That was probably just me, wanting it to be that way. Anyway, when she left this world, she spoke to me in the scent of the ocean breeze. I don’t know what they mean, but those were her last words.”
“I think those are beautiful last words, Mathilde,” says Tonya. “And I think you were right to hear them. No one should have to die without a chance to say goodbye.” Rowan whips his head around. Tonya showing compassion? That’s a turn up. Although coming within a split second of your own mortality can change your perspective on things. Once again, Rowan is reminded that Tonya didn’t get those last goodbyes. Are those tears? Tonya scrubs at her face with her sleeve.
9
“It’s in there,” says Ari.
They’re crouching in the passageway outside the last cone. Rowan’s exhausted, his body sagging from the exertion of the last—what is it exactly, a day? Rowan can’t tell. The shrouded half-light inside the labyrinth has thrown off his sense of time. All he knows is that it feels like he’s spent half his life chasing around in these godforsaken tunnels. Well, they’ve reached the last challenge of this amphitheatre. But Rowan has noticed there have been fewer and fewer sounds in the tunnels. For some time, the hooting and hollering and screams had been dwindling, and just recently they’d heard nothing apart from the rattling of the wind whistling through the passages. Rowan wouldn’t have believed that those shrieking wails would come to be a comfort.
“About forty metres in. At eleven o’clock,” Ari specifies. Tonya looks solemn, perhaps wondering if they’ll ask her to run in again, this time without the added diversion.
“Oh, my God. What are we going to do?” says Mathilde, wide-eyed at her first glimpse of a spider. They’d told her to use her peripheral vision, but even that hadn’t been enough to dull the shock. No one mentions that they’re probably too late and whatever they do now, they could be risking their lives for nothing.
A blood-chilling squeal assaults them. The spider! They rush to the narrow entrance to look. Rowan is astonished to see the Clickers. Unable to get through the front door, the Clickers haven’t given up. The virtual markers had shown them the location of the screens, so instead of coming through the tunnels, they’ve come over the hilltops in the hope of finding another way in. There are two of them, doing battle in the froth of web at the cone’s apex. One is already entangled, suspended in the sticky tendrils, its furious clicks demonstrating its alarm, but its team member leans over the rim and reaches in to free it, slicing at the silk bindings with an elongated talon. The Clicker begins to extricate itself, but already the excited spider is on the move, like a funambulist, edging along his high wire towards its visitors.
At the first melodic strands, Rowan dives into his pockets for his makeshift earplugs, stuffing them in quickly and noting that Tonya has done the same. Meanwhile, Ari has shoved his at Mathilde, then put his fingers in his ears to protect his own.
When Rowan looks back, a battle is already raging overhead, the spider striking out at the beleaguered Clicker, which is thrashing about, not looking at the spider’s mesmerising eye, as it tries to free itself of the last sticky threads. Rowan suspects this isn’t the Clicker’s first encounter with the spiders, because although it manages to free itself, it keeps its eyes averted, and raises a heavy limb to fend off the spider’s attack. Yet with each renewed parry, the spider manoeuvres itself closer to the Clicker, positioning itself to execute a paralysing stab of its fangs. Rowan feels a frisson of excitement as the battle plays out above him like a B-grade movie trailer. All that’s missing are the high-tech explosions. Rowan doesn’t rate the poor Clicker’s chances. How can it fight when it can’t look at its opponent? But the predator has forgotten the Clicker’s companion perched on the rim, who reaches in a second time, this time slicing its talon at the spider’s abdomen, piercing the spinneret and severing its silky lifeline. The spider’s screams penetrate Rowan’s plugs, as it leaps for the safety of the wall, the Clicker’s talon, ripped out of its nail bed, still embedded in its abdomen. The spider grapples to the wall, holding on precariously as the loose rubble falls. Letting loose a series of clicks so rapid that they’re almost constant, the second Clicker retreats back over the rim of the cone.
Alone, its team mate seizes its chance, lunging bodily at the spider, which leaps again to avoid another body piercing, this time to the other side of the cavern. And then out of the corner of his eye, Rowan spies a tiny movement. Barely there, it’s little more than a disturbance in the air. While the Clicker readies itself for its next onslaught, an enraged Sceet dive-bombs the spider.
“Go for its eye!” Rowan shouts, although whether the little creature can understand him, Rowan wouldn’t know. Again, he hears the spider’s muted shrieks, but he daren’t look to see if the Sceet has taken his advice. He doesn’t find out either, because Ari is grabbing at him, signalling to Rowan to follow him out of the cavern. The girls are already outside.
“Come on, Rowan. We’re going,” Ari says when Rowan has removed his
plugs.
“What?” he says, stuffing the mashed up fabric back in his pockets. No way is he going to fling them away. He’s not going to make that mistake again.
Tonya is smiling at him, her brown eyes full of mirth. In fact, they’re all grinning. While he’s been standing there watching the spectacle, Tonya had run in and struck the screen.
“We’ve finished the challenge, Rowan!” she says, triumphant. “All we have to do is find the exit before the Clickers and we’re through to the next amphitheatre.”
“Come on,” Ari calls, already heading off at a run. “I think it’s this way.”
Tonya and Mathilde dash off in pursuit, but Rowan is paralysed, frozen in place by the ear-splitting squeal of the spider as it crashes to the ground. Whirling, Rowan sees it’s brought the Clicker with it, their entwined limbs emerging from the cloud of dust. A spindly leg probes the gap just metres from Rowan’s leg.
Time to move, Rowan.
“That Clicker,” he huffs when he’s caught up with the others. “If it survives the spider, it won’t be able to get through the tunnels—it’s too big, remember?”
“We only saw two Clickers in there,” says Mathilde, slowing just enough to be able to talk. “And at least one of them escaped through the top of the cone. And there could be other team members on the surface. Whatever we do, we have to make it to the exit point before they do…”
They sprint now, their lungs heaving, searching for the exit, running…
“Over here!” Rowan shouts to the others when a random backwards look reveals a pinpoint of light in a switchback tunnel to their left.
“It’s heading back the way we came,” Mathilde says. “What if it’s the wrong way?”
“Then we’ll be too late,” Tonya says. “Let’s take it. It’s the only route we’ve seen that looks anything like a way out. We could die of old age running around in here.”