by Sara Clancy
“It’s like the bees. Just an insect.”
“We’re trapped.”
Cracks snaked through the earth, connecting to the nearest hole and threatening to bring it all down upon their heads.
“It’s just a bug.” The words left her mouth with a robotic edge. It was something she had obviously repeated to herself until the words had lost all meaning.
What would Basheba do? The answer slammed into him with a physical force.
“Bugs can die.”
Mina’s eyes widened as she realized what he was suggesting. One trembling hand left his face to wrap around the severed leg she had used as a weapon once before.
“We go for the underbelly,” she whispered.
He could barely see her through his hot tears. They dripped free when he nodded. A spider leg swung down and forced their hand. After scrambling away from the path of destruction, the world opened up and the spider dropped into the pit. Side by side, they charged, primitive weapons in hand.
The bulbous end of the spider slammed against the walls as it tried to turn and strike. Each motion ripped apart the dirt confines. Ozzie jammed the broken bones through the small gaps between the exoskeleton. Mina slipped past to do the same to another limb. The dual attack forced the arachnid to sway and slam against the wall of the pit.
Feet slipping through the mud, Ozzie rushed forward, spotting Mina in his peripheral vision. The spider countered and struck; forced them to retreat and reposition. Terror exploded within every cell of his being but he forced himself to go in over and over again. His mind fell away. There was no time for thought.
Suddenly, Mina stabbed its abdomen with the broken edge of the bone. The shell cracked, releasing a green sludge. The spider whipped around, fangs splashing the walls with venom, and struck out at her. Ozzie lunged forward, adrenaline giving him the strength needed to sink the splintering bone into its underbelly.
Mucus rained down upon him. The spider trembled and reared. Droplets of venom sloshed over his wounded right arm and instantly began to eat away at his jacket, working down to his skin. He stabbed again. Again. Cracking the outer shell until he could tear it apart with his hands. Fire burned through his collar bone as he tore out chunks. Mina appeared beside him, adding to his efforts, creating a downpour of sludge and innards. Something sleek and metal brushed against his fingertips. Ozzie caught the briefest glimpse of a wrought iron key before, with a final tremor, the spider collapsed on top of him.
***
Basheba’s lungs burned as she sprinted toward the ranch house. Buck ran before her, snapping and snarling, carving a path through the corpses for her. Beside her, Cadwyn endlessly searched the landscape.
“I can’t see them,” he panted between breaths. “We have to go back.”
“Keep running!” she ordered.
The orchard was crumbling around them. Massive trees toppled, their roots spewing blood as they were ripped out of the trembling earth. Bodies scattered the path. The living corpses crawled over the heaving ground. Immense sinkholes turned the earth to honeycomb, swallowing trees and the dead alike, drawing ever closer to their only path out of the orchard. Cadwyn’s arm looped around her waist, wrenching her off of her feet and bringing her along with him as he leaped forward.
He forced them into a roll after the first, solid impact. Encased in his arms, Basheba was somewhat protected from the following jolts, but there was no way to prevent her head from smacking against the ground. Stray stones slashed at her scalp and released hot blood to trickle over her forehead.
When they, at last, came to a stop, the world stilled along with them. Their panting stirred the silence. Calm snow drifted down upon them while heavy clouds muted the surrounding colors. Everything was reduced to dreary smears of their former luster. That, more than anything else, assured her she was back.
Peeking out from under Cadwyn’s arm, Basheba stared up at the broken ruins of the Bell family home. Time had stained the white walls a broken, dirty grey. Burrowing insects had eaten away the base, and the ceiling was more moss than tile. What had once been a front patio had long since sunk into the earth, leaving only a few splintered ends to split the ground like ancient tombstones.
“I’m home,” she whispered.
Cadwyn’s weight lifted from her. An instant later, he yanked her up, his hands drifting over her hairline, causing sparks of fire. She swatted his hands aside.
“You’re bleeding,” he told her.
“I’m fine.” Her legs felt weak but held her weight. “Where’s Buck?”
“And the others,” Cadwyn pressed.
She ignored him as she began to whistle. There was no response. Dread turned her organs to stone. Licking her lips, she whistled again, louder than before. She could feel hysteria digging its hooks into her flesh. Once more she whistled. Silence answered her.
“Buck! Come here, boy!”
“Basheba.”
She slapped aside the gentle hand he placed upon her shoulder.
“He made it out with us, right? Did you see him? I need to go back.” Biting her lips couldn’t stop her ramblings. She called for him a few more times, each repetition growing increasingly desperate. “Buck!”
Warmth flooded her chest at the answering bark. Her weak knees dropped her onto the muddy snow and she lifted her arms, welcoming the Rottweiler into a tight embrace. She took care to spare the dog from her spikey collar and wrist cuffs. His own similarly fashioned armor drove into her skin, but she didn’t care. Any amount of pain was worth it to feel him safe and warm within her arms again.
“Are you okay, boy? You had me worried.” She sniffed and kissed his snout, unintentionally coaxing him to lick her face.
“Is he all right?” Cadwyn asked.
“Of course, he is. He’s the best boy.” Her skin felt too tight as she pulled her music box from her straining pocket. Presenting the hated object to him, she instructed the dog to sniff it and gather its scent. “Fetch.”
His paws churned up the snow and dirt as he sprinted toward the house.
“You trained him to find the keys?” Cadwyn asked.
“Well, I haven’t been able to test it. But he does well finding my favorite beer. And my socks.”
Shoving her box back into her pocket, she stripped off her pack and searched for her hunting knife. Cadwyn called for her just as she wrapped her fingers around the handle. The area around the house was a barren patch of dead earth. An empty expanse covered in dirty snow. Knife in hand, she stood, and they suddenly weren’t alone.
Children surrounded them. Two near identical rings of prepubescent girls, their dresses as black as midnight, their bonnets as white as the falling snow. She staggered back until Cadwyn took hold of her shoulders and drew her close. Constantly readjusting her grip on the handle of the dagger, Basheba watched as one girl stepped forward. She was the only one who was different. A familiar face in a green dress.
“Katrina.” Basheba hated that it came out as a whisper.
A smile stretched the girl’s lips as she lifted a hand. A string looped over her palm, leaving a wrought iron key to dangle and sway. Basheba eyed it carefully.
“You’re just giving it to us?” Basheba scoffed.
“Only one,” Cadwyn whispered.
Katrina’s smile grew to impossible lengths.
“You’re letting one of us go,” Basheba said. Using the tip of her knife, she hooked the string and plucked the key free of the witch’s grasp.
Katrina let it go, watching the two with obvious anticipation. Passing it blindly to the man behind her, Basheba heard some shuffling and a tell-tale click. His key. Her stomach twisted tight. Biting hard on the inside of her cheeks, she tried to keep her face unreadable.
“Go, Cadwyn,” Katrina said. “Our game ends here.”
Cadwyn shifted slightly, bringing his large frame into Basheba’s field of sight.
“And what about everyone else?”
“What does it matter to you?”
Katrina tilted her head. The barely noticeable motion signaled the girls to take a step in, choking off any escape route.
“Can you live with yourself knowing you murdered children?”
He stared at the cube in his hand. It had fallen silent, the pieces now locked in place. Squeezing it until his nails turned white, he spared Basheba a glance before replying.
“You’re not kids.”
The children surged forward as a pack. Swarming over them, tearing into their flesh, dragging them down to the cool earth.
Basheba didn’t hesitate to slash at the little monsters, cleaving large clumps of flesh from bone and leaving the snow stained with blood. She released a sharp whistle, calling for Buck as she struck the nearest child.
At first, Cadwyn tried to keep from hurting the children, shaking them off instead of striking them. But their unrelenting attack soon drained him. His eyes were squeezed tight the first time he used the box as a weapon. He brought it down upon a girl’s skull, the sharp edges cracking through skin and bone, leaving a gaping hole for her brain matter to seep out. His fight for life chipped away at his moral hesitation until he struck with a savage brutality that matched the children’s.
Sweat gathered under Basheba’s thick winter clothes. Her already exhausted muscles struggled to do what she demanded of them. A child latched onto her hair, dragging her down, trying to pin her to the soil, covering her with grasping hands. Buck lurched from behind the wall of children. They buckled under his crushing weight as, instead of pushing through the crowd, he crawled his way over the top of them. Ice replaced Basheba’s blood when she lost sight of him. An instant later, she was brought down to her knees. She swung the blade up, driving it into the soft underplate of the nearest attacker.
Cadwyn’s screams became muffled. Through the tangled limbs, she spotted him. He had been forced onto his back, his body pinned into place by the combined weight of multiple children, his jaw pried open by the girl upon his chest. Her tiny fingers wiggled into his mouth. A sharp yank and blood poured from between his lips.
With a giggle, the girl examined the tooth she had just retrieved, tossed it over her shoulder, and giddily swooped back in to snap out another. Screaming in agony, he thrashed with renewed force, using the spikes on his wrist cuffs to gouge at their skin. It didn’t keep them back for long.
Hands worked under her clothes, clawing at tender skin, searching for her music box. The children had piled on her, grinding her into the now-red snow, ripping out handfuls of her hair and gouging at her cracked lips. The crowd thinned for the barest second as Buck plowed through them. Blood gushed from the girl he held in his grasp. Vicious shakes opened the wounds. The fragile bones of her neck cracked as he tightened his colossal jaws.
Basheba lunged up, taking advantage of the momentary distraction. Slick with blood, the children struggled to keep their hold, and she burst free. They were on her before she could get to her feet, dragging her down again and keeping her on her knees. Every muscle in her body trembled as she forced them to their full strength. With a solid thrust, she grabbed the bonnet of the girl sitting on Cadwyn’s chest, wrenched her back, and sliced her throat.
Use had dulled the blade but it still sunk deep enough to sever the artery, baptizing them both in her blood. Before she could see if it was of any help, a heavy weight landed upon her spine and drove her down. Hands pulled at her fingers in an attempt to pry them from the knife handle.
Buck charged. Lowering his head, he used the spikes as a battering ram, forcing the girls back just enough to drop a severed head on Basheba’s hand. The soft squish came with a sharp clack against her knuckles. She snatched it up as Buck shredded the crowd. His armor held strong, preventing the small bodies from gouging at his head or back. There was nothing they could do to counter his attack of fangs and pure muscle.
Rolling the head over to look at the mauled flesh of the neck, she discovered a slip of metal protruding out of the cracked spinal column. Prying it out with the tip of her knife, she rolled closer to Buck, using his protection to retrieve the box from her pocket. Sliding pieces exposed a small lock. Bone marrow gathered around its edges as she pushed the key inside.
The lullaby came to life, hollowing out her mind until it was all she could hear. Deafening. Endless. Echoing within her bones. Hands grabbed her arms, trying to pull her away. She twisted her wrist. The key flipped the lock and silence claimed the world.
An arctic chill rushed to meet her flushed skin. The blood remained while the rest of Katrina’s creatures scattered like ash. Buck leaped about to snap at the floating particles, endlessly frustrated that he couldn’t sink his teeth into any of it. She called him over as she crumbled. An arm around his shoulders kept her somewhat upright. She could barely lift her head as she called out for Cadwyn. Waiting for his reply and hearing nothing sent her adrenaline coursing again. She snapped upright to find the man sitting a few feet from her side. His arm held out before him, his eyes wide and unblinking under a layer of dripping blood.
“Cadwyn,” she said gently as she shuffled to his side. Carefully, she placed a hand on his arm. “They weren’t really kids. They weren’t human.”
“We have to wash off before Ozzie finds us.” His voice was distant and flat. All the screaming came from his eyes.
Mina’s voice broke over his soft ramblings. Snapped from their daze, they looked up to see the two teenagers sprinting from the orchard. Both were covered with thick mucus, but it was the way Ozzie clutched his arm that made Cadwyn shoot to his feet. Ozzie skidded to a stop when he saw them. Basheba was slightly impressed when, after a moment of hesitation, he forced himself on.
“He’s hurt,” Mina panted. “His shoulder. We found a key!”
Cadwyn shrugged off his winter jacket, turning it inside out to hide the blood before fastening it around him as a sling. With Ozzie in shock and Cadwyn fixated on his task, it fell to the girls to catch each other up.
“You climbed up a dead spider to get out of the pit?” Basheba asked when Mina had finished filling her in.
“That’s the part you’re stuck on? We found a key!”
“Ozzie’s key,” Basheba explained. “Every box has its own.”
It struck them all at the same moment that Mina was the only one left unaccounted for.
“We’ll find it,” Ozzie promised, pain pulling the muscles of his face taught. “We have a bit more time.”
“I don’t suppose you want to give us a hint,” Basheba screamed to the barren world around them.
She hadn’t expected a reply, but one came swiftly. Pain exploded behind her left eye. A blinding, crippling fire that made her knees buckle and her mind sputter. Cadwyn was by her side in an instant, slowing her decent to bring her gently to the ground. His fingers were warm and smeared with blood as he pried her hands back from her face.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Ozzie asked, and offered his good hand to Basheba so she’d have something to hold onto.
“I can’t see anything,” Cadwyn whispered, clearly not sure if he wanted her to hear or not.
Basheba meant to calmly state that she could feel something pushing against the back of her eye. The words came out as a feral scream that had Buck restlessly pacing beside her. She reached out blindly to soothe him, and he nuzzled her palm. The gentle touch served as an anchor, allowing her to croak out.
“The key.”
“She put it behind your eye?” Ozzie asked. “Can she do that?”
“We need to get her to a hospital,” Cadwyn said.
“My box hasn’t been locked,” Mina cut in. “Is it safe to travel through the orchard again if my demon hasn’t been properly sealed?”
“I can’t handle another spider,” Ozzie stammered.
A deep growl left Cadwyn’s throat. “I can take her down the cliff.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t c
limb it before,” Mina said.
“Not with Buck on my back. Basheba weighs a lot less. I can get the key and come back.”
“Do we have time for that?” Mina asked.
“You want us to wait here?” Ozzie said. “With the Witch?”
Grinding her teeth Basheba snapped a hand out to grab Cadwyn’s wrist. “I’m not leaving Buck.”
“It’ll just be for a little while.”
They all knew it wouldn’t be, but it was Mina who voiced the points one after another. Basheba was the only one who knew her way through the woods. They had no supplies. With the incoming storm, the stream Basheba had mentioned could freeze over. Crossing it with an injured girl on his shoulders could be suicide.
“Cut it out.” Basheba’s order brought tense silence.
Cadwyn stammered until she dug her nails into his arm. The waves of pain had weakened to a near constant but tolerable ache.
“You have your med-kit,” Mina said. “Cut the key out and put an end to this.”
“In the middle of the woods? While I’m covered in mud and blood? With no anesthetic? And, at best, two days away from proper medical care? Are you insane?”
“You can pop it out.” Mina rushed on when Cadwyn glared at her. “You won’t have to cut anything.”
“But her eye will be outside of its socket!”
“There’s every chance she’ll keep her vision,” Mina argued.
“I’m not putting her through that much pain because you can’t be patient.”
“You know what’s coming,” Basheba cut in. “Let’s end it here.”
Cadwyn shook his head, “This isn’t up for debate.”
“Is it up for extortion?” Basheba countered. “You pop out my eye, or I’ll stab it out.”
“We can make it back to town. I know I can do it.”
“Cadwyn,” she groaned. “The demon isn’t the only reason I want to do this.”
“What’s the other?”
“Spite. Katrina did this because she doesn’t think I’ll go through with it. She thinks I’d rather leave Mina to die than lose my eye. Well, screw that.”
“You can’t just do things out of spite.”