Monsters In The Clouds

by Russell James

  “Great,” McCabe said. “We have poison that might kill, camouflage that might conceal, and a weapon that might fire. What could possibly go wrong?”

  The three coated themselves in ant. By the time they’d finished, Grant’s olfactory senses had dulled from the overload and he almost couldn’t smell himself. Almost.

  McCabe taped flashlights to the barrels of the three rifles. He handed one to Dixit and held the other out in front of Grant.

  “Here’s an upgrade,” McCabe said. “I’ll take back my pistol.”

  Grant traded him weapons. McCabe returned his holster to his hip.

  “I must confess that I am wholly unfamiliar with firearms,” Dixit said.

  “Well, that’s a shock,” McCabe said. “We’ll be in a tunnel. Point the weapon away from us and at the horde of ants. You’ll hit something.”

  “Hopefully the poison will keep anything from being alive to chase us out,” Grant said.

  “Time’s wasting,” McCabe said. He slung a chaff tube across his back and connected the wires to the battery on his belt. “Let’s roll.”

  Grant tucked a machete into his belt. Dixit had a short knife he’d found somewhere tucked into his. The three clicked on their flashlights and entered the tunnel. As the daylight receded, dread swelled up inside Grant. Memories of the cavern in Montana flashed by.

  “When I get out of here,” he said to himself. “I’m not even going to take a subway again.”

  The tunnel had standing room in the center. The ants had scoured away an almost perfect tube, large enough that two could pass each other with both carrying something. That gave Grant more hope. After seeing Riffaud knocked unconscious, he was afraid the trip in might have killed Janaina outright. The walls glistened with the saliva the ants had used to seal the earth in place. A damp, peaty smell wafted up from deeper down the tunnel.

  They continued on for a while.

  “Not that I am in favor of it,” Dixit said, “but shouldn’t we have encountered an ant by now?”

  “Maybe this tunnel was specifically dug for the attack on us, and has no other purpose,” Grant said.

  After a few minutes more, they came to a fork in the tunnel.

  “Now which path do we select?” Dixit said.

  McCabe checked a compass. “We’ve been heading west. We keep heading west. Any nest would be closer to the center of the plateau.”

  “I agree,” Grant said. Being able to plumb Janaina’s well of expertise on ant behavior would have been more than welcome right now.

  McCabe pulled his knife and etched an arrow into the wall at the tunnel junction. It pointed back to the entrance. “We may need to find our way out in a hurry.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve read Journey to the Center of the Earth?” Grant said.

  “A favorite when I was a kid.” McCabe passed by Grant and tapped him twice on the chest with the side of the knife blade. “And your book totally ripped off Jules Verne.”

  Grant swallowed his reply that Jules Verne hadn’t nearly died researching his book the way Grant had.

  “Do me a favor,” Grant said. “When we get back, don’t leave a review.”

  McCabe sheathed his knife and pushed ahead down the tunnel.

  Minutes later, a scraping noise from far ahead broke the silence. McCabe snapped his flashlight to high power and sent the beam down the tunnel’s center.

  The ruby red head of an advancing soldier ant lit up like a neon sign. McCabe doused his flashlight.

  “Kill the lights,” he whispered. “We’re about to see if your camouflage works, Dino Doc.”

  Grant and Dixit cut off their lights. The darkness in the tunnel was absolute. Grant fought back a feeling of claustrophobia, as if without light to keep them at bay, the tunnel walls would close in and suffocate him.

  The ant’s scratching grew closer. Then there was a regular measured hiss, an exhalation. Grant would have been thrilled at the discovery of active respiration in an insect if the insect hadn’t been centimeters from being able to kill him.

  Scratching reached the far wall and stopped. The sharp smell of uric acid prickled Grant’s nose. Grant pressed his back harder into the tunnel wall. Something hard and cold touched his arm. He flinched and stifled a scream. The thing ran down his blood-camouflaged arm and over his hand. He recognized the feel from earlier in the day. It was the ant’s antenna. He was being scanned.

  The antenna ran across his chest and toward Dixit. It touched Dixit and he yelped. Grant clamped a hand over Dixit’s mouth.

  “It will kill intruders,” Grant whispered in Dixit’s ear.

  The antenna made another pass over Grant’s chest. Then the leg scratches restarted, passed them, and continued down the tunnel. When they were nearly imperceptible, Grant exhaled and took his hand from Dixit’s mouth. Dixit immediately doubled over and threw up.

  “Looks like we passed the sniff test, Doc,” McCabe said.

  “Never doubted we would,” Grant lied.

  Now that his eyes had adapted to the utter darkness, he realized that it wasn’t as complete as he’d first thought. The far end of the tunnel was lighter. “Is it my imagination, or is there daylight down there?”

  “Let’s find out.” McCabe alone turned on his flashlight and the three made their way down the tunnel.

  They rounded a corner and came to another intersection. But the branch tunnel here headed up a steep incline to the surface. Daylight shined through the hole like a fuzzy spotlight.

  “We were still going west?” Grant asked.

  “Plus or minus five degrees all the way,” McCabe said.

  “Then this tunnel comes up somewhere other than our compound. It might be where Janaina and Riffaud are.”

  “One way to know,” McCabe said and he headed up the offshoot tunnel.

  The others followed. The last few yards were practically vertical.

  “Let’s climb!” McCabe said.

  The three began to hack out handholds in the hardened earth.

  A puff of wind blew down the tunnel. It brought a rank smell that Grant remembered from the crash site and the compound. It gave him a chill.

  The air ahead stank of pterosaur.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The ant tunnel exited among several large bushes. The three men crawled out and took cover in the branches.

  Before them rose the high ground at the western edge of the plateau. The bottom dozen meters were a sheer, stone cliff face. Above that, the barren, brown earth rose more gradually. Holes about two meters wide pockmarked the hillside. Excavated earth, rocks, and bits of debris lay before each hole.

  “I have a bad feeling about what lives in those holes,” Grant said.

  As if on cue, a pterosaur waddled out of one little cave. It turned around and scratched some dirt out through the entrance. The earth splattered on some of the debris. The pterosaur walked out, picked up the scrap and shook it clean. It returned the piece to the ground and nudged it back into the same location.

  “I recognize those parts,” McCabe said. “They’re from the C-130.”

  “Why would the pterosaurs do that?” Dixit said.

  “Bowerbirds do the same thing,” Grant said. “Decorating nests to attract mates. All the glass and metal on the plane would have been something new and exciting. Now it makes more sense that they took the radio we tried to salvage. For its decorative, rather than functional, purposes.”

  Two pterosaurs flew into separate holes. A third emerged and took flight.

  “We’d last about a second out there before those things spotted us and attacked,” McCabe said.

  “Look over to the left,” Dixit said.

  At the edge of the cliff carcasses of dead ants littered the ground like cars in a junk yard. All the heads had exploded.

  “Looks like the aftermath of an epic ant/pterosaur battle,” McCabe said.

  “No,” Grant said. “I’ll bet that’s where the larvae direct the ants to go before they emerge. They
drive the ant closer to the pterosaur rookery.”

  Scratching sounded from the tunnel, followed by a stifled squeal. Grant’s heart jumped and he flattened himself against the ground.

  A soldier ant crawled past them. It gripped a plump, furry phoberomys in its mandibles. Spider webbing, like the fibers used on the ant bridge, wrapped the struggling creature. The ant approached the base of the cliff and dropped the phoberomys amidst a group of shriveled lumps.

  As the ant retreated, a series of pterosaur cries sounded from within the tiny caves. Two emerged and launched. They tucked into steep dives toward the phoberomys. At the last moment, they flared their wings like parachutes and braked centimeters from the ground on either side of the phoberomys.

  Both pterosaurs screamed and entered into a violent duel. Like two fencers, they used their bills as rapiers, jabbing, parrying. Wings spread for balance, they slashed at each other as the terrified phoberomys rocked at their feet. Finally, the larger of the two scored a hit with a slice across its opponent’s chest. The victim screeched and retreated. Blood seeped from the wound. It launched and flew back up to its lair.

  The victor pierced the phoberomys sack with its bill and the little mammal squealed. Then the pterosaur carried its prey back up to its cave. It dropped it at the entrance. Two smaller pterosaurs scrambled out of the cave into the daylight and began to tear shreds from their mother’s offering.

  “The ants are feeding the pterosaurs?” Dixit said.

  “The larvae in their brains,” Grant said. “They must take over and make the ant colony support the pterosaurs. That was what they were doing bringing phoberomys over the ant bridge that day. They secure them with webbing then deliver them alive to the colony.”

  The baby pterosaurs returned to their cave. The mother flung the web-covered phoberomys carcass over the edge. It handed with the rest at the base of the cliff.

  An awful thought crossed Grant’s mind. “Which is why they took Janaina and Riffaud instead of killing them.”

  “Then we’d damn well better get back in that hole and find them,” McCabe said. “Before they turn into tonight’s dinner.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five.

  McCabe marked the trail with another reversed arrow and led them west. The increased pace took a toll. Heavier breathing appeared to make his broken rib more painful, and Grant caught him red-faced, fighting back pain.

  “You need a break,” Grant said. “Before you pass out.”

  “Riffaud might be seconds from death. He’s not dying because we’re late.”

  They passed two ants heading in the opposite direction. Other than a fleeting swipe with their antennae, they seemed to take no notice of the three, even with the lit flashlights. Grant wondered how long the stink he’d rubbed into their clothes would last.

  Light appeared up ahead. Soon the tunnel forked and dead ended at two different rooms. A low thrum of scratching and hissing came from the first, darker room. McCabe motioned them all to crouch down near the entrance.

  McCabe played his flashlight inside. The beam landed on a seething mass of ants. Worker ants, the smaller versions without the soldier’s mandibles, like the ones that had made the bridge, moved in all directions at once, and pulsed like a living carpet. Some carried smaller, squirming pupae.

  “The center of the colony,” Grant whispered. “The nursery. Somewhere in there is the queen.”

  “And Riffaud?”

  “Not down there.”

  They backtracked and chose the other fork. It opened to a smaller chamber. Holes in the ceiling acted like skylights. Other tunnels led deeper into the colony. Several worker ants crawled up the walls and across the ceiling. In the center of the room hung over a dozen webbed cocoons, just like the one they’d seen delivered to the pterosaur colony. Between them all hung two much larger versions, two meters long.

  “That’s them.” McCabe said.

  He took aim at an ant closest to the cocoons. Grant pushed down the barrel of McCabe’s rifle.

  “Fire that thing and those ants will panic. They’ll scatter all the cocoons for safety and we’ll never find them.”

  “Then what’s your plan?”

  Grant paused. “Ants are specialized. These here just care for the cocoons until they’re delivered. If we free a bunch of phoberomys, the ants will chase them down. While they’re distracted, we get Janaina and Riffaud and get the hell out of here.”

  McCabe shouldered his rifle opposite of the poisoned chaff container. The sling touched his ribs and he sucked in a sharp, pained breath. He exhaled slowly and then drew his knife. “Good a plan as any. Dixit, you ready?”

  Dixit lay down his rifle and drew his knife. “Most certainly. Especially the ‘get the hell out of here’ part.”

  Grant slung his rifle and drew his machete. The big blade was a little overkill, and he’d have to be careful cutting Janaina free with it. “Let’s go.”

  They paused while a worker ant scuttled by. Then they entered the chamber.

  The three split and went to different cocoons. In unison they each sliced one from the ceiling. Grant’s hit the ground with a thud. The phoberomys inside wriggled. Grant knelt and grabbed the webbing. He stretched it up and then sliced through it. With a yank he pulled the cocoon apart. It made a sound like tearing cardboard. The phoberomys shook itself as if waking from a horrible dream. Then it bolted for one of the exit tunnels. A split second later, McCabe’s and Dixit’s phoberomys raced for a different exit.

  One escapee grazed the leg of an ant. The ant stiffened, and then whipped its antennae around fast enough to touch the phoberomys as it slipped away into the darkness. The ant shuddered, no doubt passing some combination of physical and chemical alert to the other ants. In response, a second ant sprinted down the tunnel after the phoberomys. The first ant followed.

  The trick worked. The three men began to slash and free phoberomys as fast as they could manage. Each one set off a panic as it contacted worker ants. One raced around the chamber’s edge, unable to find an escape, and leaving a hurricane of frantic ants following its trail. It finally stumbled upon an exit and led the remaining ants out, which left the chamber clear.

  Dixit raised his arms to cut free another phoberomys. His shirt caught on a protruding rock and tore straight up the back. He chopped the creature free anyway.

  Grant cut loose one more phoberomys and then moved to support Riffaud as McCabe cut him free. Grant lowered Riffaud to the ground and McCabe slashed the cocoon open. The stench of death rose from the webbing.

  Riffaud’s skin was the color of slate. Lifeless eyes stared from under half-shut lids. A helmet of dried blood caked his hair where he’d struck the tunnel after his capture. Grant hoped his death had been blessedly instantaneous.

  “Damn it to hell,” McCabe said. He hung his head.

  Grant shook McCabe’s shoulder. “Janaina! She may still be alive.”

  Grant stepped sideways and grabbed Janaina’s cocoon. McCabe freed her with a savage slash, his face red with rage. Grant lowered Janaina to the ground. He beat back the urge to chop at the possibly suffocating webbing out of fear of hurting her. He tucked the blade in sideways and ran it down the cocoon like he was cutting the wrapping around a priceless vase. He peeled back the webbing.

  Janaina lay still. Grant’s heart sank. He bowed his head.

  Janaina’s eyes flickered open. She sucked in a deep breath and snapped upright. Her chest smacked Grant in the head, and he went sprawling.

  “You’re alive,” Dixit said.

  “Where am I?” she said. She looked around the chamber. “I was outside, there was an ant…”

  “Don’t worry about that now,” McCabe said. “We need to get you out of here.”

  Janaina looked down at Grant. “What are you doing lying on the ground?”

  Grant rose to his knees. “Rescuing you, obviously.”

  Janaina looked at Riffaud’s corpse. “Ai, meu Deus.”

  “Can you walk?” Grant said as he
stood up.

  With his help, she rose to her feet. “Pins and needles for a minute.” She shook her legs. Grant draped her arm across his shoulder and led her toward the exit tunnel.

  One of the ants crawled back into the chamber with a captured phoberomys in its mouth. Its antennae passed along Dixit’s bare back. He screamed in surprise. The ant dropped the phoberomys which scampered back down the tunnel. The ant made a hissing noise and began to shudder.

  “Damn it,” McCabe said. “It touched your bare skin. Run!”

  McCabe jabbed the barrel of his rifle against the ant’s head and fired. The blast echoed in the tiny room. The ant’s head vaporized and the remaining segments backpedaled down the other tunnel.

  Grant knew that if the worker ant’s pheromone release and vibrating signal hadn’t warned the colony of intruders, then that gunshot certainly had. They’d be lucky to make it out of the colony alive.

  “We need to run,” he said to Janaina. “Can you?”

  She lifted herself from his shoulder. “I’d better.” She took two hesitant steps, then accelerated into a sprint.

  Dixit came running out of the chamber next. In his panic he hadn’t even picked up his rifle.

  Just as he passed the fork to the colony’s main nest, a soldier ant thrust its head from the darkness. Its red mandibles yawned wide open. They bracketed Dixit’s waist and clamped shut. Dixit screamed and the ant yanked him back down the darkened tunnel. Something crunched and Dixit fell silent.

  McCabe rushed out of the chamber. A soldier ant crawled right behind him. It snapped its mandibles at his leg, but only grazed him. That was enough.

  McCabe dropped to the ground. He whirled and fired a salvo of shots into the creature. Bullets shattered multiple segments and the creature fell dead. Then McCabe blasted away at the tunnel ceiling on full automatic. The roof disintegrated into a cloud of dirt, then the tunnel back to the chamber collapsed around the dead ant.

  Grant lifted McCabe up under the shoulders. The gash in his leg exposed bone. Grant winced.

  “Collapse that tunnel to the nest,” Grant said. “And we’ll get the hell out of here.”