Web of Fire Bind-up

by Steve Voake

  ‘Should be. Once we get back, the engineers will use pheromones to make it develop into a queen. Then we can get all the eggs we want.’

  ‘Maybe we’d better get another one – just to be on the safe side,’ suggested Sam as Skipper rolled the egg carefully into her rucksack, coiling the ropes around it to provide some protection.

  ‘One more then,’ she agreed. ‘But that’ll have to be it.’

  ‘Right,’ said Sam. ‘Won’t be a minute.’ He twisted around inside the cell and began to cut his way through to the next one.

  ‘Don’t be long,’ said Skipper, listening to the faint scratching sound floating down from the layer above. ‘I think the larvae are getting hungry again.’

  Sam squeezed through the hole he had made with the knife and stared at the egg in the middle.

  ‘Skipper,’ he called. ‘Come here a minute. See what you think.’

  Pushing the rucksacks ahead of her, Skipper crawled along until she reached the cell where Sam was sitting.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Look,’ said Sam. He nodded towards the egg and Skipper saw that there was something wriggling inside it. ‘I’d say it’s about ready to hatch.’

  ‘Oh yuk,’ she said. ‘Don’t think I want that crawling out of my rucksack in the middle of the night. Let’s leave it and go for the next one.’

  Sam inched past on his hands and knees until he came to the far wall of the cell, where he proceeded to cut another hole before poking his head through into the next one.

  ‘This one looks fine,’ he said. He slid into the cell and used the knife again to free the egg from its base. Skipper pushed his rucksack through the hole and he quickly rolled the second egg into it, pulling the draw-strings tight around the top and tying it shut.

  ‘Job done,’ he said.

  ‘Good,’ said Skipper. ‘Then let’s get out of here.’

  Sam was about to move when there was a tearing sound beneath him. Seeing the horrified look on Skipper’s face, he looked down and saw a large crack opening up in the floor between his knees. It snaked across the base of the cell and as his hands scrabbled for grip on the smooth pulpy walls he heard Skipper shout ‘Sam, watch out!’ Then, with a loud ripping noise, the floor of the cell gave way and he crashed down into the queen’s egg chamber below.

  With a surprised yelp he lifted his head to find that he had landed on the edge of several open cells, each containing the soft, creamy white bodies of newly hatched hornet larvae. As he watched, their grotesque, shiny brown heads seemed to sense him, swivelling round to stare blindly in his direction.

  As Sam shrank back in disgust he heard a scraping sound and spun round to see three giant hornets crouching by the wall on the far side of the chamber. Dark, shining eyes stared at him malevolently and as the sharp jaws grated together, Sam knew he was only moments away from a horrible death.

  There was nothing for it; no escape. He would have to stand and fight. At least it might then give Skipper a chance to return to Aurobon with the eggs. Gripping the handle of the knife tightly in his right fist, he stared defiantly into the eyes of the hornets and slowly, very slowly, began to beckon to them with his left hand.

  ‘All right then,’ he said, ‘let’s see what you’re made of.’

  The middle hornet began to advance menacingly towards him across the floor of the chamber and immediately all Sam’s initial bravado evaporated. The sheer size of the insect was terrifying, like standing directly in the path of some hideous alien aircraft. As it thrust its head forward and opened its terrible jaws there was a loud crash and in a powdery explosion of dust and debris, Skipper landed with a thump on the floor next to him. Instantly she was on her feet again, pushing him towards the far end of the chamber.

  ‘Run, Sam!’ she shouted. ‘Run!’

  But Sam stood his ground; he had no intention of leaving without her. Seeing the hornet turn towards her, he rushed forward in a final act of desperation and in the confusion that followed became dimly aware of Skipper throwing something to the ground. There was a brilliant, blinding flash, an ear-splitting bang and then suddenly the chamber was filled with a thick, grey smoke which swirled around hiding everything from view. Stunned, Sam fell to his knees as his senses were overwhelmed by the intense combination of light, sound and smoke.

  Beyond the roaring in his ears, he heard the buzz and clatter of hornets as they scurried around in utter confusion. Then Skipper grabbed him by the hand, pulled him to his feet and dragged him back through the smoke.

  ‘Can you hear me, Sam?’

  ‘Yeah, just about,’ Sam gasped, struggling to catch his breath. ‘What just happened?’

  ‘Flash-bang grenade,’ said Skipper. ‘Causes temporary confusion.’

  ‘You can say that again,’ said Sam.

  ‘When the smoke clears,’ Skipper went on, ‘those hornets are going to go crazy. We need to get out of here right now.’

  As the angry buzzing grew louder they ran through the smoke until they reached the far side of the chamber. Sam tried to punch a hole through the outer wall, but the paper was thicker and stronger than before and his fist just bounced off.

  ‘Quick, bend over!’ said Skipper.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We’re going to have to cut our way back into the upper chambers,’ said Skipper. ‘I need you to be my ladder.’

  Still reeling from the shock of the grenade, Sam put his hands on his knees and felt Skipper scramble onto his back. He slowly stood up again and held her feet firmly on his shoulders.

  ‘OK?’

  ‘Fine. Quick – pass up the knife.’

  Sam shuddered at the thought of climbing through cells of hungry, wriggling larvae, but he supposed it was preferable to being attacked by angry hornets. Keeping one hand on Skipper’s foot, he passed the knife up to her with the other and heard the now familiar sound of its serrated blade sawing through the paper. As he stared into the smoke to check for hornets, he noticed to his surprise that – far from disappearing – the smoke was becoming both thicker and blacker.

  ‘Skipper – I thought you said the smoke was going to clear,’ said Sam.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Skipper. ‘I’m nearly through. We’ll be out before they spot us.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ said Sam urgently. ‘The smoke is getting thicker.’

  As Skipper jumped down from his shoulders to investigate, Sam heard a crackling in the air, felt the heat on his face and saw fingers of orange flame flicker across the roof of the chamber.

  ‘The grenade!’ he shouted. ‘The nest is on fire!’

  At that moment a hornet lumbered through the smoke just as a sheet of flame leapt from the smoke and transformed it into a living fireball. As the blackened hornet fell sideways and curled up like a leaf in a bonfire, Sam threw his arms up to shield his face from the intense heat.

  ‘Look!’ Skipper shouted. ‘The wall!’

  Through the smoke, Sam saw that a large hole had opened up in the side of the nest, growing wider with every second as the fire spread out from its centre. The breeze outside was fanning the flames through the hole and Sam realised the egg chamber was fast becoming one giant chimney, funnelling fire and smoke up through the nest with a thunderous roar.

  ‘If we stay here we’ll be burned alive!’ Sam shouted above the noise of the firestorm. ‘We have to get out of here now!’

  Skipper looked at him and nodded.

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Let’s just give them something to keep them occupied.’ Pulling the pin from a high explosive grenade, she lobbed it into the smoke and then they were racing through the flames, running past melting cells and burning hornets as the floor beneath them disintegrated and they jumped through the fiery hole into the cool, clean air.

  As a loud explosion blew the nest apart behind them, Skipper’s hand slipped from Sam’s grasp and he noticed that his jacket was on fire. Tumbling through a kaleidoscope of leaves, sky and flames he called Skipper’s name and t
hen the world splintered into bubbles that hissed and split into silence. He looked up through the gloomy water to see a small, bright circle of light high above his head.

  Then Skipper grabbed him and together they swam away from the darkness, back towards the life that had so nearly deserted them.

  Eighteen

  Sam sat on the edge of the hollow tree stump and stared out across the deep lake of rainwater that had collected in its middle. As he watched the sunlight sparkle across the surface, he thought how fortunate they had been to fall into the water. If they had landed on the forest floor, they would almost certainly have been killed.

  Skipper interrupted his thoughts by pressing a soft, wet square of moss against his arm.

  ‘Ow,’ he said, wincing. ‘That hurts!’

  ‘Come on, you baby,’ said Skipper. ‘Just hold that against it for a few minutes. It’ll take the heat out of it – stop it blistering.’

  ‘Thank you, nurse,’ said Sam. He pushed the spongy moss against his forearm and felt the cool water soothing his burns. ‘We flew out of there like a couple of fireworks didn’t we?’

  ‘Could have been worse,’ said Skipper, pointing towards the base of the tree where several dead hornets lay smoking on the ground. ‘I’d say their stinging days were definitely over.’

  Sam suddenly became agitated.

  ‘The eggs!’ he cried. ‘What happened to the eggs?’

  Skipper leaned forward to show Sam that she was still wearing her rucksack on her back.

  ‘Voila. Where’s yours?’

  Sam shot her a worried look. ‘I think I must have left it back in the nest.’ He stared awkwardly at the reflection of the trees in the water, embarrassed by his mistake. ‘Sorry, Skipper.’

  Skipper shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it. You had other things on your mind. Besides, one is all we need, remember?’

  ‘Yeah, but what if it’s a dud?’

  Skipper poked him in the ribs. ‘What if the sun stops shining? What if the stars fall from the sky?’ She smiled and patted his leg. ‘Trust me, Sam. Everything’ll be fine.’

  Sam nodded.

  ‘I guess so.’

  Skipper stood up and put her hands on her hips.

  ‘Having said that… the next part’s going to be a bit tricky.’

  Sam threw the piece of moss into the pool with a plop and watched the rings spread out across the water.

  ‘Can’t be trickier than the last part, surely?’

  Skipper sucked her teeth thoughtfully.

  ‘Different kind of tricky.’

  Sam followed her gaze past the smouldering remains of the nest to the branch where they had left the robber fly.

  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I see what you mean.’

  ‘I’ll go, Sam. You stay here and get your strength back. I should easily make it before nightfall and then we can head back to the fabric gap.’

  Sam was about to protest when he realised that there was absolutely no point; Skipper was a brilliant climber and he would only hold her up if he went with her.

  ‘Well OK,’ he said. ‘If you’re sure. But promise me you won’t talk to any strange hornets.’

  ‘I promise.’

  Skipper carefully removed the coil of ropes, then placed the rucksack containing the egg on the ground next to Sam’s feet.

  ‘You can babysit Junior.’

  As she slung the rope over her shoulder, Sam looked up at the tree that towered high above the forest floor and saw a cloud of hornets buzzing angrily around the place where their nest used to be.

  ‘Be careful,’ he said. ‘Don’t take any unnecessary risks.’

  Skipper raised an eyebrow.

  Sam looked at her and held up his hands.

  ‘OK, OK. Take as many as you want.’ He waved her away with the backs of his fingers. ‘Go on, go. Shoo. Get out of here.’

  Skipper smiled.

  ‘See you later,’ she said.

  Sam watched the small figure set out across the forest and several times he almost went after her. But something made him stay, and before long she was lost from sight.

  It was after he had been sitting quietly at the edge of the pool for about ten minutes that Sam noticed a flash of something moving at great speed across the water. Shielding his eyes from the sun he saw that there were three canoe-shaped black objects, floating some way off upon the surface of the water. One of them shot away again and then came to rest several hundred metres distant. The movement was so swift that there was no real sense of acceleration or braking. These things were either completely still or somewhere else.

  As he looked more closely at the nearest one, Sam noticed that it had a pair of reddish eyes at the front. Clinging to the underside of its body was a silver bubble of oxygen and two huge legs stuck out from its middle like oars. Sam remembered once seeing something similar, skating across the surface of a pond and realised that he was looking at a water boatman. He shook his head in amazement. It had never occurred to him that some day he would come across one the size of a large speedboat. But it looked fairly harmless. Sam glanced back over his shoulder into the forest. With any luck, Skipper would have started climbing the tree by now. It would probably be several hours before she made it back again.

  The midday sun was high above the trees and the forest was heating up like an oven. Sam wiped the sweat from his brow as steam rose from the damp moss all around him. The thought of plunging headlong into the cool water was all at once irresistible. Pulling off his damp shirt and placing it over the rucksack, he crouched on the lip of the tree stump and dived neatly into the pool with a small splash.

  Under normal circumstances, Sam’s assumption that water boatmen are harmless to humans would have been quite correct. People are several thousand times bigger than water boatmen and so water boatmen do not attack them. But, unfortunately for Sam, scale was no longer on his side.

  And so it was that, a few hundred metres away, the nearest water boatman froze as the tiny, sensitive hairs on its legs picked up a new and strange vibration in the water.

  Like a shark, it was a voracious hunter. And it knew that vibrations in the water mean only one thing:

  Food.

  Swivelling around in the water, the creature pointed its sharp, beaky proboscis directly towards the source of the vibrations and zoomed in on the splashes with its dark-red eyes, moving its powerful legs forward with a sharp click.

  Then, as Sam swam up and broke through the surface of the water again, it shot towards him like a speeding bullet.

  In death, as in life, timing is everything.

  If a large tadpole hadn’t chosen that exact moment to swim up and investigate Sam’s arrival in the pool, he would never have known what hit him. As it was, he felt a rush of wind, heard a thud and a pop and then a huge wave swept over his head and smashed him hard against the side of the tree stump. Struggling to the surface again he saw a fat tadpole splashing and twitching next to him, a bloodstain spreading rapidly across the surface of the water. He looked up to find himself staring straight into the eyes of its killer. There was a squelch as the hideous bug thrust its jaws deeper into the dying creature and then with a splash of its legs, it swivelled around to face Sam.

  Sam knew that he was next on the menu. He scrabbled frantically behind him for the lip of the tree stump, but his fingers slid uselessly against the wet, slippery moss and he was unable to find any grip.

  As the last remnants of life ebbed away from the tadpole, it gave a final thrash of its tail and hit Sam squarely across the face. The force of the blow sent him reeling back beneath the surface and as he opened his eyes he saw the shimmering, silvery lines of air bubbles beneath the water boatman’s body.

  Sometimes, when people are in great peril – they discover that they are capable of doing the most extraordinary things. And so it was that, in those few terrifying seconds, Sam saw the tiniest of opportunities and went for it.

  Diving down into the shadows, he picked up a rotting piece of wo
od from the bottom, arched his back and with a last desperate effort, thrust himself upwards. There was a pop, a flash of silver and suddenly he was inside the oxygen bubble, floating like an astronaut in a space capsule.

  Gulping down lungfuls of oxygen, he watched the tadpole’s empty skin float past and guessed that the water boatman would soon be on the move again.

  Taking a final breath, he punched his fist through the bubble wall and grabbed one of the creature’s legs near the point where it joined its body. Clutching the piece of wood in his other hand, he quickly pulled himself onto its wet, slippery back and then inched his way forward on hands and knees. Reaching the centre, he sat down and considered his options. The edge of the tree stump was still within swimming distance, but Sam knew that, even with a dive, it would take him about ten seconds to reach it. Given the slipperiness of the stump, the odds were pretty much stacked against him. The water boatman would just turn around and bust him open like a balloon.

  He looked out across the water and saw that the other boatmen were grouped together over on the other side. At least right now he only had one to contend with.

  ‘All right,’ he said softly, and stood up. ‘Here we go.’

  Then, picking up the soggy, dripping piece of wood, he flung it with all his might towards the centre of the water.

  Sam’s idea was that the boatman would head towards the splash, giving him a chance to swim to the side while it was distracted. But he hadn’t been prepared for the speed with which everything happened. The moment the wood hit the water, the boatman took off at such speed that Sam felt as if a rug had been whipped out from underneath him. Before he knew what was happening, his feet were above his head and he was somersaulting backwards through the air. But a surge of adrenalin kept his mind focused and immediately he hit the water, he flipped over fast and struck out for the side. Seconds later his fingertips touched wood and he tried desperately to pull himself up, but again the sides were too slippery and he fell back, swallowing a mouthful of water in the process.

  Coughing and spluttering his way to the surface, he noticed some yellow fungus over to his left, jutting out from the wood like giant dinner plates. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the boatman scanning the surface, sensing new vibrations in the water. As it swivelled around to face him, Sam knew that he had been seen and with a whimper of fear he threw himself forward, feeling his fingers sink into the firm, spongy flesh of the fungus. Crying out as his muscles stretched to breaking point, he jerked his legs clear just as the creature thundered into the side like an express train and the water exploded violently beneath him. With the last of his strength he somehow managed to drag himself on the top of the fungus where he collapsed with exhaustion, his heart hammering like a fist against his chest.