PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Running through the forest is like driving an SUV the wrong way down an interstate: it’s possible, technically, but you’d really prefer to avoid getting yourself into that situation to begin with. Every step you take, you have a sneaking suspicion that you missed some deadly clue, that your weight will fall on the cover of a trapdoor spider’s lair, or a pile of leaves concealing a sinkhole hundreds of feet deep. There’s no time to check your path, so you pray to God and plant your feet on whatever looks most solid.
I was acutely aware of the danger, and I knew Junior was too, but that didn't stop us from following Hollywood. The screams were getting fewer and further between, but they were still coming. I couldn't help but wonder if it was Li out there.
I burst through a thick patch of razorgrass, covering my face to protect it from lacerations, and stumbled into Junior’s back. My momentum carried me past him, and I just had time to realize we were beside an enormous chasm when I tumbled over the edge--
Hollywood grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back. I’d drawn my pistol as I ran, and now it slipped out of my grasp and plummeted, vanishing into darkness.
I stood panting beside Junior and Hollywood as we listened for another scream.
None came. The silence hung over us like a dense fog.
“Look,” said Junior, pointing across the chasm. There, far away on the other side, I saw something that made my jaw lock.
It was a tall gray obelisk, detailed with a network of fine lines, defined against the messy backdrop of green and brown by sharp, artificial edges.
“That’s not supposed to be there,” said Junior, as if the structure’s existence offended him personally.
I stared at the obelisk. My stomach cartwheeled.
“Gimme the floodlight, Junior,” said Hollywood, peering into the black depths of the chasm.
Junior rooted in his pack, his movements mechanical and slow. Hollywood snatched the floodlight from his hands.
“We should try to get over there and take pictures,” said Junior, motioning toward the obelisk. “I've never seen anything like that in the videos, not in the books, nothing.” He raised a hand above his eyes, squinting. “Is that some kind of script on there? What’s it say? You ever hear of something like that?”
Hollywood ignored him, panning the floodlight over the abyss below. I watched the watery circle of light as it traveled down the far slope of the chasm, revealing a complex network of vines, musty wood and giant fungi.
Junior yelped. I looked up just in time to see a shape vanish into the trees beyond the obelisk.
“There was a person!” shouted Junior, scrambling along the edge of the chasm. “Tetris, did you see him?”
“What?”
“I’m going to go look,” said Junior, already fifteen feet away. “Somebody was over there, Tetris. I swear to God!”
I stared across but couldn't detect any movement. Then Hollywood sucked in his breath and things began to happen very quickly.
Thirty feet below, Hollywood’s floodlight revealed a grinning reptilian face. Clusters of featureless black eyeballs gleamed in the light.
The creature swung its massive jaw open, revealing row after row of recurved teeth. A sour odor of death wafted up. Out of the gaping mouth came a piercing shriek, the woman’s scream we’d heard before, except that this time the noise continued endlessly, increasing in intensity as the thing scrabbled with wicked claws up the wall toward us.
Hollywood dropped the floodlight. It fell into the chasm toward the monster, the beam of light ricocheting wildly. I turned to shout at Junior, who stared wide-eyed back at us. He could hear the shriek, but hadn't yet glimpsed its source.
“Junior!” I screamed, but then an enormous scorpion, heavy with dull black armor, skittered out of the trees behind him. The scorpion’s stinger snapped forward, skewering Junior through the torso. The point protruded sickeningly out of his chest. As the stinger lifted Junior off the ground, his feet kicking and his big hands slapping behind him at the scorpion’s segmented tail, Hollywood grasped my arm and spun me around.
“Run,” he said, and led the way.
We barreled back through the razorgrass, stumbled across a tree branch bridging a ravine, and broke into a sprint on the shaking ground beyond.
Behind us, the feminine shriek became a roar of fury, as the reptilian creature sensed the possibility of our escape. I heard a new sound, a heavy whump-whump like mattresses falling to the floor, and snuck a glance back. The creature had taken flight on a set of rippling, scaly wings. It loomed behind and above us, close enough that I could feel its hot breath against my neck.
We weaved between obstacles, Hollywood a few feet ahead of me. No chance of grapple-gunning to safety if the thing could fly. We’d have to lose it in the maze of trees and undergrowth.
We’d just rounded an enormous tree trunk when Hollywood stepped on a moss-and-silk trapdoor and plummeted out of sight. I grabbed the straps of my pack and leapt in after him.
The tunnel was steep and slick as a water slide. There would be a spider in here with us, even now rushing toward this section of its burrow. I’d dropped my pistol into the chasm. Hollywood might have a chance to produce one of his weapons, but the fall through the trap door would have taken him by surprise, and anyway the spider would get to him in moments.
THINK!
As I slid, I saw Hollywood up ahead on a flat spot in the tunnel, his headlamp flicked on, hand reaching for the pistol at his side. Beneath him: the spider, hairy legs blurred as it charged up from the web-wrapped depths.
One of the spider’s front legs pinned Hollywood’s gun arm to the floor. The spider leaned in, pedipalps parting to reveal a pair of dripping fangs --
I fired my grapple gun. The silver spearhead flashed across the cavern, trailing an impossibly thin strand of carbon nanofilament, and shattered the section of carapace beneath the spider’s left eye cluster, hardly losing any momentum as it burst out the other side and embedded itself in the wall. Thick green-black goo exploded from the point of impact, showering Hollywood. Countless limbs spasmed in death. With a grunt of exertion, Hollywood planted a foot against the wide abdomen and shoved, sending the body shuddering back down the tunnel.
“Thanks, Tetris,” said Hollywood, wiping the stinking blood out of his eyes.
As I craned my neck to listen out the opening of the burrow, the shrieks and roars of the winged creature grew fainter. Its scales had been a queasy mixture of blue, black and green.
“What was that thing?” I asked.
“That,” said Hollywood, “was a fucking dragon.”
NEXT CHAPTER
Running through the forest is like driving an SUV the wrong way down an interstate: it’s possible, technically, but you’d really prefer to avoid getting yourself into that situation to begin with. Every step you take, you have a sneaking suspicion that you missed some deadly clue, that your weight will fall on the cover of a trapdoor spider’s lair, or a pile of leaves concealing a sinkhole hundreds of feet deep. There’s no time to check your path, so you pray to God and plant your feet on whatever looks most solid.
I was acutely aware of the danger, and I knew Junior was too, but that didn't stop us from following Hollywood. The screams were getting fewer and further between, but they were still coming. I couldn't help but wonder if it was Li out there.
I burst through a thick patch of razorgrass, covering my face to protect it from lacerations, and stumbled into Junior’s back. My momentum carried me past him, and I just had time to realize we were beside an enormous chasm when I tumbled over the edge--
Hollywood grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back. I’d drawn my pistol as I ran, and now it slipped out of my grasp and plummeted, vanishing into darkness.
I stood panting beside Junior and Hollywood as we listened for another scream.
None came. The silence hung over us like a dense fog.
“Look,” said Junior, pointing across the chasm. There, far away on the other side, I saw something that made my jaw lock.
It was a tall gray obelisk, detailed with a network of fine lines, defined against the messy backdrop of green and brown by sharp, artificial edges.
“That’s not supposed to be there,” said Junior, as if the structure’s existence offended him personally.
I stared at the obelisk. My stomach cartwheeled.
“Gimme the floodlight, Junior,” said Hollywood, peering into the black depths of the chasm.
Junior rooted in his pack, his movements mechanical and slow. Hollywood snatched the floodlight from his hands.
“We should try to get over there and take pictures,” said Junior, motioning toward the obelisk. “I've never seen anything like that in the videos, not in the books, nothing.” He raised a hand above his eyes, squinting. “Is that some kind of script on there? What’s it say? You ever hear of something like that?”
Hollywood ignored him, panning the floodlight over the abyss below. I watched the watery circle of light as it traveled down the far slope of the chasm, revealing a complex network of vines, musty wood and giant fungi.
Junior yelped. I looked up just in time to see a shape vanish into the trees beyond the obelisk.
“There was a person!” shouted Junior, scrambling along the edge of the chasm. “Tetris, did you see him?”
“What?”
“I’m going to go look,” said Junior, already fifteen feet away. “Somebody was over there, Tetris. I swear to God!”
I stared across but couldn't detect any movement. Then Hollywood sucked in his breath and things began to happen very quickly.
Thirty feet below, Hollywood’s floodlight revealed a grinning reptilian face. Clusters of featureless black eyeballs gleamed in the light.
The creature swung its massive jaw open, revealing row after row of recurved teeth. A sour odor of death wafted up. Out of the gaping mouth came a piercing shriek, the woman’s scream we’d heard before, except that this time the noise continued endlessly, increasing in intensity as the thing scrabbled with wicked claws up the wall toward us.
Hollywood dropped the floodlight. It fell into the chasm toward the monster, the beam of light ricocheting wildly. I turned to shout at Junior, who stared wide-eyed back at us. He could hear the shriek, but hadn't yet glimpsed its source.
“Junior!” I screamed, but then an enormous scorpion, heavy with dull black armor, skittered out of the trees behind him. The scorpion’s stinger snapped forward, skewering Junior through the torso. The point protruded sickeningly out of his chest. As the stinger lifted Junior off the ground, his feet kicking and his big hands slapping behind him at the scorpion’s segmented tail, Hollywood grasped my arm and spun me around.
“Run,” he said, and led the way.
We barreled back through the razorgrass, stumbled across a tree branch bridging a ravine, and broke into a sprint on the shaking ground beyond.
Behind us, the feminine shriek became a roar of fury, as the reptilian creature sensed the possibility of our escape. I heard a new sound, a heavy whump-whump like mattresses falling to the floor, and snuck a glance back. The creature had taken flight on a set of rippling, scaly wings. It loomed behind and above us, close enough that I could feel its hot breath against my neck.
We weaved between obstacles, Hollywood a few feet ahead of me. No chance of grapple-gunning to safety if the thing could fly. We’d have to lose it in the maze of trees and undergrowth.
We’d just rounded an enormous tree trunk when Hollywood stepped on a moss-and-silk trapdoor and plummeted out of sight. I grabbed the straps of my pack and leapt in after him.
The tunnel was steep and slick as a water slide. There would be a spider in here with us, even now rushing toward this section of its burrow. I’d dropped my pistol into the chasm. Hollywood might have a chance to produce one of his weapons, but the fall through the trap door would have taken him by surprise, and anyway the spider would get to him in moments.
THINK!
As I slid, I saw Hollywood up ahead on a flat spot in the tunnel, his headlamp flicked on, hand reaching for the pistol at his side. Beneath him: the spider, hairy legs blurred as it charged up from the web-wrapped depths.
One of the spider’s front legs pinned Hollywood’s gun arm to the floor. The spider leaned in, pedipalps parting to reveal a pair of dripping fangs --
I fired my grapple gun. The silver spearhead flashed across the cavern, trailing an impossibly thin strand of carbon nanofilament, and shattered the section of carapace beneath the spider’s left eye cluster, hardly losing any momentum as it burst out the other side and embedded itself in the wall. Thick green-black goo exploded from the point of impact, showering Hollywood. Countless limbs spasmed in death. With a grunt of exertion, Hollywood planted a foot against the wide abdomen and shoved, sending the body shuddering back down the tunnel.
“Thanks, Tetris,” said Hollywood, wiping the stinking blood out of his eyes.
As I craned my neck to listen out the opening of the burrow, the shrieks and roars of the winged creature grew fainter. Its scales had been a queasy mixture of blue, black and green.
“What was that thing?” I asked.
“That,” said Hollywood, “was a fucking dragon.”
NEXT CHAPTER