Web of Fire Bind-up

by Steve Voake

  ‘No, they’re not,’ she answered, her voice surprisingly calm in the circumstances. ‘Put your foot in here.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Just do it, Sam!’ Her voice was more urgent now.

  The ants were nearly upon them. He could hear the clacking of their legs on stone and the snap, snap, snap of their jaws.

  He stepped forward and placed his right foot into Skipper’s upturned hands.

  ‘Hold on to my shoulders,’ she instructed.

  Sam quickly did as he was told and felt her lift him off the ground. He could see out across the murky waters of the nearest tank now, see the dark shapes of the mosquito larvae hanging upside down, the breathing tubes in their tails breaking the surface like snorkels.

  He just had time to turn his head and register the fact that he was staring directly into the hideous, slavering jaws of a monstrous ant before Skipper jerked her hands upwards and threw him, arms flailing, over the side of the tank.

  He hit the surface with a loud smack, sending a plume of water high into the steamy air. Waves cascaded over the sides and as he sank down into the warm, soupy water he opened his eyes and saw larvae the size of dolphins wriggling away to the shadowy depths beneath. Above him, a trail of bubbles marked his own unexpected descent.

  His lungs empty and crying out for oxygen, Sam gave a desperate kick and swam up to the surface. Coughing and spluttering as he emerged, he trod water and frantically looked around for a means of escape.

  Below him, dark shapes moved through the murky waters. Gradually the mosquito larvae began returning to the surface, probing the air with their tails once more. Sam felt a strange current swirling beneath his feet. Trying not to panic, he attempted to lift his feet clear of whatever was down there.

  Without warning, something clamped itself hard onto his leg and pulled him violently beneath the surface. Opening his eyes in the gloomy waters he saw to his horror that one of the larvae had fastened its mouth to his calf and was trying to drag him down to the bottom of the tank. The large maggoty white head twitched and jerked blindly from side to side as it tugged him lower and lower, its pale, sightless eyes unable to distinguish anything but light and shadow.

  Exhausted and starved of oxygen, Sam felt like giving in. It was all too hard, too much effort trying to stay alive when everyone wanted you dead. The light was fading and the darkness closing in. Soon it would be over. He could sleep for ever.

  But as his eyes closed and he started to drift away, Sam thought of Skipper. Hadn’t she risked her life to save him? She could have run and saved herself, but she had stayed to help him instead. He couldn’t let it all be for nothing. He had to survive, if only for her sake. She needed him.

  He shook his head and, with a supreme effort, opened his eyes.

  The light above him was fading fast. The creature was dragging him down towards the darkness at the bottom of the tank and Sam knew that he would have to act quickly. Summoning all his strength, he drew back his free leg and kicked at one of the larvae’s unseeing eyes. The resistance of the water slowed his movements and when his foot struck the creature’s eye it bounced off again. It was like kicking a child’s inflatable toy.

  Undeterred, he kicked out again and again until finally the creature recoiled and released its grip. Thrusting his arms above his head, Sam cupped his hands and swam hard until he broke through the surface into the harsh glare of the factory lights. Treading water for a few seconds to get his breath back, Sam saw the shadows begin to move beneath him and he quickly struck out for the side of the tank.

  Pulling himself up so that his stomach was resting on the edge, he was relieved to find that there were no ants patrolling the section of floor below, although several pairs of antennae were visible between the tanks nearby. Skipper, however, was nowhere to be seen.

  He had to try to find her.

  He jumped over the side and ducked down, staying low and running along the alleyways that criss-crossed between the tanks. Reaching the end of one of them, he peered cautiously around the side to check that the coast was clear before darting across to the cover of the next. He knew it was only a matter of time before he was either spotted from above or hunted down by the vicious ants, but this time he wouldn’t give up until he had found Skipper. He owed her that much.

  His heart racing, he finally reached the end wall of the factory and found himself beneath a gantry that ran along its entire length. Above he could see the shiny black boots of the guards pacing back and forth, but he knew that unless they looked directly beneath their feet they were unlikely to spot him.

  For the moment at least, he was safe.

  Scanning the deserted factory floor, he realised that it must have been cleared to make it easier to track him down. There was still no sign of Skipper. All he could see were the huge ants weaving their way methodically between the tanks, antennae twitching, searching him out.

  He leant heavily against the wall, exhausted. His eyes stung from the feed in the water and he rubbed them in an effort to ease the pain. As he did so he heard a clatter, followed by a loud clang. It came from the direction of the nearest tank.

  Dropping his hands from his eyes, he saw to his dismay that an ant was standing only a few metres away from him.

  Sam flattened himself against the wall and held his breath.

  The ant stopped and moved its head slowly from side to side as though sniffing the air. Its antennae twitched, searching for clues.

  Oh, please, he prayed. Please don’t find me …

  The ant turned and took a few steps in the opposite direction, then stopped again.

  That’s it – go on, keep going! urged Sam silently.

  The ant seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if uncertain how to proceed.

  Then it turned and stared directly at him.

  Sam looked desperately around for an escape route, but there was none. The huge, monstrous ant scuttled straight towards him and, as the terrible jaws lunged forward, Sam sank to his knees and moaned in terror, waiting for it all to be over.

  There was a loud thud, followed by silence. He waited for the pain, for the agonising slice of the jaws, but they never came.

  Gingerly, Sam opened his eyes and was faced with the unexpected sight of the ant standing with its front legs bent and its head, which was the size of a small family car, resting on the ground in front of him. A small pool of yellow poison steamed on the floor next to its powerful jaws and its antennae continued to twitch unabated. It was staring straight at him and was obviously still very much alive.

  As Sam watched, a patch of skin on the top of its head appeared to become much thinner. It wobbled and shimmered like tarmac in the heat, then suddenly dissolved away to nothing, leaving a neat, circular hole.

  To his utter amazement, a small girl popped her head out of the top and winked at him.

  ‘Hello, Sam,’ said Skipper. ‘Did you wonder where I’d got to?’

  Seventeen

  ‘Don’t step in that stuff,’ Skipper advised as Sam skirted around the steaming yellow poison pooled beneath the ant’s jaws. ‘It’s acid. It’ll burn your feet.’

  Sam stepped over it and put one foot on a section of pincer that looked poison-free. He put his hands against the cold skin of the creature’s head to steady himself. It felt taut and smooth with a slight grain, like old leather.

  ‘Here,’ said Skipper, leaning down and stretching her hand out. ‘Grab hold.’

  Sam took her hand and used his feet to scramble up the side of the head as Skipper pulled from above. After several slips, he made it to the top and sat with his feet dangling over the edge. His grey uniform steamed and he wrung out part of his sleeve. There was a hiss as droplets of water hit the poison below.

  ‘I think we’d better get moving,’ said Skipper.

  She jumped back through the opening and then stuck her head out again.

  ‘Come on in,’ she said.

  Sam climbed down through the hole in the ant’s head and fou
nd himself sliding into a leather seat with armand headrests. It was very comfortable.

  Laid out in front of him was an instrument panel with numerous backlit dials which glowed red in the darkness. He noticed one marked ‘GLUCOSE LEVELS’ and another with ‘FORWARD-SPEED INDICATOR’ written next to it. A third showed a three-dimensional diagram of the ant and had ‘DAMAGE INDICATOR’ printed underneath. A small red light was flashing on the underside of the diagram.

  Further along was a small, square screen displaying the words ‘CHEMICAL ODOUR MATCH’ with some sort of green block graph above it and ‘93% MATCH’ showing at the top. Next to it was another screen with a line down the middle. It had the words ‘SUBJECT IDENTIFICATION’ written beneath it.

  Sam was surprised to see that on one side of the line was a picture of him standing against the factory wall with his mouth open in terror, obviously taken only minutes earlier. More shocking still, however, was the image next to it. It showed him standing in his bedroom next to the window, wearing his stripy pyjamas. At the top of the screen were the words ‘100% MATCH’.

  Skipper tapped her finger on the screen displaying the image of Sam in his pyjamas. ‘Nice outfit,’ she said. ‘Very nice.’

  She stood up, took a silver torch-like object from her pocket and pointed it at the hole above them. The end pulsed with a brilliant blue light and the hole disappeared, as if painted out with an invisible brush, leaving no sign that it had ever been there.

  ‘Wow,’ said Sam. ‘How did you do that?’

  ‘With this,’ said Skipper, waving the little torch. ‘It’s a compact generator with an enhanced CRB. I whipped it from Hekken’s pocket when I was being all soppy and pretending to cry. He’ll go nuts when he finds out I’ve nicked it – they cost a fortune.’ Seeing the confused look on Sam’s face, she said, ‘Sorry. A CRB is a cellular-restructuring beam. You can use it to rearrange the cell structure of biological organisms without actually damaging them. It’s like jumbling up the pieces of a puzzle and then putting them back together again. It was originally used in medicine for surgery and that kind of thing. But now it’s used in all the insect programmes. It means you can have a door where and when you want it without causing any long-term damage to the organism.’

  She leant forward and began flicking switches. A large, curved screen lit up in front of them and Sam could see an image of the factory wall where he had been standing a few minutes earlier. He watched as she pulled a pencil-sized stick towards her and he felt the head of the ant begin to rise.

  ‘I should fasten your seat belt if I were you,’ said Skipper. ‘I think we could be in for a bit of a rough ride.’

  Sam pulled the belt across his chest and clicked the buckle into place. He looked up at the screen and saw that they were turning round.

  ‘What I want to know,’ he said, ‘is how you got into this thing. I mean, weren’t there already people in it?’

  ‘Yes, that was a bit tricky,’ Skipper admitted. ‘After you went into the tank I managed to climb up one of the legs and used the CRB to make a small hole underneath the ant. Then I climbed onto the ant’s head and used it again to open up a hatch into the cockpit.’

  She moved the stick slightly and Sam saw that they were turning left past the end tank and moving back onto one of the main paths which led up a ramp to the factory entrance.

  ‘But how did you get the crew out?’ Sam asked. ‘Didn’t they put up a fight?’

  ‘Well, no – not at first anyway,’ said Skipper. ‘I shouted, “Drill bomb!” and they were out of there like a couple of greyhounds.’

  ‘What’s a drill bomb?’ asked Sam.

  ‘Oh, it’s an explosive device that we use to destroy ants,’ explained Skipper. ‘They’re cone-shaped with a kind of screw at the pointy end. All it takes is for a soldier to stick one into the ant’s underbelly and that’s it. End of story. The bomb drills up into the body cavity, blows the whole thing apart and there’s not much anyone can do about it. Ant crews are terrified of them.’

  She imitated the sound of a drill. ‘Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzip, blam! Goodnight, Mr Ant!’

  Sam frowned. ‘But you didn’t have a drill bomb.’

  ‘Well, I know that,’ said Skipper, ‘and you know that. But the important thing is, they didn’t. And the hole I’d made underneath the ant showed up on the damage indicator inside the cockpit, with exactly the sort of damage you’d get if someone had just put a drill bomb there.’

  ‘Ingenious,’ said Sam, impressed. He wondered where she had learned all this stuff.

  ‘Of course, once they climbed out and saw me, they smelt a rat,’ Skipper continued. ‘But by then I had the element of surprise.’

  She leant across the instrument panel and eased a small handle forward. Sam saw the display on the speed indicator lengthen and felt himself being pushed back in his seat as they accelerated.

  ‘So what happened?’

  Skipper chuckled. ‘They went swimming,’ she said. ‘I hear the water’s lovely at this time of year.’

  Sam looked up at the screen. There were several ants in front of them now and he could see others moving down the alleyways to their left. Skipper flicked a switch and the screen cut to a rear view showing more ants following behind.

  ‘Looks as though we’re all headed in the same direction,’ said Sam as the picture returned to its original view of the way ahead.

  ‘Mmm.’ Skipper sounded worried. ‘Let’s see if we can find out what’s going on.’

  She pressed a button above her head and speakers on either side of the cockpit crackled into life. There was the sound of a man’s voice speaking, although it was distorted and hard to hear. Skipper moved one of several slider controls and the static disappeared. The voice could now be heard clearly: ‘Confirm that Subject A cannot be found and is believed to have left the immediate area. All units to conduct immediate external search of compound. Search now extended to second Subject B, suspected of assisting Subject A. Image now loading for identification…’

  Skipper pressed a green button on the instrument panel and the image of Sam in the small display window was replaced by one of Skipper next to a larvae tank with her hands in the air. Part of Sam’s foot was just visible at the edge of the frame.

  ‘Good action shot,’ said Sam, ‘You look a bit serious though.’

  Skipper sniggered. ‘Shh! I want to hear what else they’re saying.’

  ‘… imperative that they are found immediately. The escape of subjects would constitute breach of security at the highest level and any preservation orders that were previously in existence have now been terminated.’

  Sam glanced across at Skipper and saw that her smile had vanished.

  ‘What was all that about?’ he asked. ‘Preservation orders have now been terminated. What does that mean exactly?’

  ‘It means,’ said Skipper, her expression thoughtful in the red glow from the instruments, ‘that if they catch us, they’ll kill us.’

  Sam felt the fear returning and the colour drained from his face.

  Skipper noticed and put a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘They’ve got to catch us first.’

  They approached a steep ramp leading up to a huge pair of double doors which were being opened to let the ants out into the main compound.

  Outside, a grey blanket of cloud hung in the sky above the fields and a curtain of mist and rain was sweeping across the damp airfield. A cold wind wrinkled the surface of the puddles that lay dotted across the tarmac.

  Sam counted. They were fourth in a line of ants now, waiting their turn in the queue. He looked to his left and watched scores of mosquito larvae wriggle away from the surface as the ant’s shadow moved across the water of their tank.

  They shuffled forwards as the first ant moved through the double doors. Two more and they’d be out.

  The second ant moved forwards a few steps and then paused.

  ‘Come on,’ said Skipper quietly. ‘Come on.’

  Sudd
enly several soldiers appeared and began pointing excitedly at the line of ants. Sam noticed that they all carried shiny guns with short, stubby barrels.

  An armoured car reversed up next to the ant in the doorway and stopped. A panel in the top slid open and a ladder began to extend upwards from it. Two more men now joined the group by the doors. They appeared to be extremely wet and agitated.

  ‘Uh oh,’ said Skipper. ‘This is not looking good.’

  The ladder stopped at the ant’s head and two soldiers climbed up. The first used a CRB to create an opening in the head just as Skipper had done, while the second trained his gun on the hole as it appeared. A crewman emerged from the opening and after a brief discussion he disappeared back inside again. The soldiers climbed down the ladder and the ant moved out through the doors.

  Sam watched the ant in front of them walk forwards up the ramp and stop next to the ladder. The soldiers climbed onto its head and began opening it up.

  ‘They’re going to check them all,’ said Sam anxiously. ‘They’re going to check them all and we’re next.’

  Skipper stuck out her bottom lip and nodded, her blue eyes hard and determined. ‘I think we’re going to have to make a run for it,’ she said. ‘Are you ready?’

  Sam tightened his seat belt. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Go for it.’

  Skipper took a deep breath, switched the screen to rear view and pushed the stick back as far as it would go.

  Sam was thrown forward against his belt as the ant powered backwards and the image of a larvae tank filled the screen. There was a loud crash as they hit the side of it, followed by a thunderous roar as the thin metal buckled inwards and thousands of gallons of water poured out onto the factory floor. Sam was slammed back into his seat and as they skidded forward Skipper’s fingers danced expertly across the levers and switches. Sam saw the screen return to a front view just as they crashed into the ant in front of them, which crumpled to the ground. A soldier who had been standing on it fell with a thump against the screen, slid off and disappeared into the torrent of water which swept down into the drains, leaving the huge white larvae flapping and twitching on the floor like stranded fish on a beach.