Creatch Battler

by Mark Crilley

  Billy turned his attention to the floor. It was covered with globs of green gunk—orf saliva, Billy assumed—and chewed-up goat bones. Using the tip of the plasmatron, he poked at a bit of the goo. The shiny green mass quivered like a serving of Jell-O.

  Yuck.

  Billy recalled the description of orf saliva he'd read in the Guide to Ground Creatches: “…a green gelatinous substance that is believed to induce drowsiness in humans after prolonged exposure.”

  He thought for a minute.The key word is prolonged. Gotta get down there and get the job done as quickly as possible.

  Billy peered through the hole and into the passageway on the other side. It was black: pitch-black. He would be operating in complete darkness.

  “A flashlight.” He winced. “How could I forget?”

  Without a second's hesitation, Orzamo leaped into the hole and vanished.

  “Orzy!” Billy called out as loudly as he dared. “Come back here!” Oh, great. Some buddy you turned out to be.

  Seconds later, Orzamo reappeared. Her horns were glowing pale orange, as if lit from within.

  “Glowing horns, eh? Not bad, Orzy. Not bad at all.”

  Billy poked his head through the hole. Orzamo's horns provided just enough light to see by. Or enough to stumble by, anyway; they glowed so dimly that Billy couldn't see anything a foot or two beyond her head.

  “Oh well,” he whispered. “Better than nothing.”

  Orzamo growled at his lack of gratitude.

  “I mean, perfect. Dim lighting's perfect,” said Billy. “Attracts less attention.”

  Orzamo registered approval at this change in attitude.

  “Okay, this is it,” said Billy. “Orf time.”

  He swallowed hard and climbed into the hole.

  The floor of the passageway was steep: it descended into the ground at nearly a forty-five-degree angle. It was also covered in green slime, causing Billy to slip and fall at least a half dozen times. Orzamo and her glowing horns sometimes moved around a bend, leaving Billy lost in the blackness. Even with Orzamo in sight he had to feel his way forward like a blind man, occasionally planting his hand wrist-deep in goo before finding the rocky surface below.

  This is really disgusting. Being an Affy definitely has its drawbacks.

  They moved farther and farther down the passageway. Billy guessed that they were twenty or thirty feet below the Taj Mahal. As they progressed, it became warmer and more humid. It was hard to breathe. There was also a strange odor in the air, as if they were crawling into the den of a huge wet cat.

  Billy's heart, which had been beating fast to begin with, really started thumping. He gripped the plasmatron with one hand and ran the other through his hair. He was dripping with sweat.

  They came to a spot where the passage opened up into a larger space. Apart from a few goo-covered bones on the floor in front of him, Billy could see nothing but blackness. He sensed the size of the space not with his eyes but with his ears: his movements echoed off distant walls, making him feel as if he were in a vast underground cathedral.

  “Can you see anything, Orzy?”

  Orzamo shook her head and sniffed the ground.

  Billy started breathing through his mouth.

  Maybe we should just turn around now, before it's too late.

  Orzamo made a nervous whining sound and turned to Billy as if awaiting a change in plans. Billy stared back at Orzamo, wishing for a moment that she would make the decision for him.

  No. Not yet. We've come this far. I've got to at least take a shot at the orf.

  They began to inch their way forward into the blackness.

  Billy thought he heard something breathing.

  That's just Orzamo.

  Something breathing, something breathing.

  Or me.

  He was so nervous now he really had no idea.

  He stretched one hand out and forced himself to move forward.

  That was when a pair of eyes opened in front of him.

  Billy gasped.

  His heart skipped a beat—or several beats—and then resumed pounding even faster than before. Sweat poured down his face, soaking his clothes. He halted in his tracks, standing absolutely still.

  Eyes.

  Orf eyes.

  They were shiny and solid black, like the eyes of a rat. Only the pale reflection of Orzamo's glowing horns provided any evidence that they were there at all. Billy guessed they were no more than fifty feet away.

  He raised the plasmatron and held it as steady as his shaking hands would allow.

  Words began to pop into Billy's head, sentences he'd memorized from the guidebook: “Teeth are large… tightly packed… capable of tearing through flesh with astonishing speed…”

  The eyes blinked.

  Stay calm. When it bares its teeth, pop it a good one in the gums.

  Two more eyes opened up, just below the first two. Then another, bringing the total to five.

  “One Affy… lost the better part of his left leg to an orf…. The limb was severed and swallowed in under a second….”

  Billy gripped the plasmatron as tightly as he could.

  KRRRRrrrrrrrr

  A low, deep growling sound rumbled out of the darkness.

  Billy thought he saw a glint of teeth.

  Now!

  Billy pulled the trigger.

  VOOOOOOSH

  A single blast of purple fire shot forward and vanished into the darkness, briefly illuminating the cave and its ceiling of stubby stalactites: the orf had dodged the fire bolt.

  Billy fired again.

  VOOOOOOSH!

  This time the fire bolt struck the orf just above the eyes.

  GAAAAAARRRRRR!

  The sound was deafening, like a hundred lions roaring at once.

  The orf was stunned. It backed away and clawed madly at the spot where the fire bolt had hit. It began to recover, though, much more quickly than Billy had anticipated. Within seconds its eyes were back open and it was moving closer. Billy wanted to take a third shot, but it was too late: the orf would be on top of him in no time.

  Forget it. I missed my chance, I've gotta get out of here.

  “Come on, Orzy!”

  Billy gripped the plasmatron tightly and began scrambling back up the passageway. But before he'd covered even a few yards, something took hold of his leg.

  No!

  It snaked up around his belly.

  Pulled him back.

  Dragged him into the darkness.

  “Orzamo!”

  Something took hold of the plasmatron and yanked it out of his hands. He heard a clattering sound as it was tossed away.

  Billy wasn't sure what happened next. His eyes might have been open. They might have been shut. It made no difference: there was nothing but blackness as he was dragged through passageway after passageway, his head smacking into rocks, bones, whatever lay in his path.

  It's got me! It's gonna eat me!

  Faster, faster, around corners, down tunnels so steep they were nearly vertical.

  It can't eat me! I'm not a goat! The guidebook said it eats goats!

  Down, down, deeper and deeper.

  Finally he felt himself coming to a stop. The orf was dragging him more slowly. Its grip, however, hadn't changed in the least: five or six hairy limbs were locked around him, so tightly that his arms and legs were going numb.

  Don't panic. Maybe it'll let me go when it sees I'm not a goat.

  Billy bounced and skidded down one final passage. All at once his surroundings were made plain by bright white light: a kerosene lamp sat on the floor a yard or two from his head.

  A kerosene lamp? What's that doing down here?

  Billy was in a small cave, a rough circular space carved out of the earth somewhere deep underground. The floor was carpeted with bones and blobs of green goo. His heart was still pounding like crazy, and sweat covered his body, along with dirt and bone fragments and who knew what else.

  Billy tried to turn
his head to get a better view of his captor, but it was no use. All he could see was a tuft of black fur against his jaw, blurred by its proximity to his eyes. He could feel the orf, though. The limbs locked around him were warm and covered with scratchy hairs so coarse they stabbed like needles. The orf reeked, too. Like meat gone bad.

  “Orzamo!” he whispered. “Come on, girl. Where are you?”

  The yellow lizard was nowhere to be seen.

  She bailed on me. I can't believe it.

  All at once the orf released Billy, allowing him to roll across the floor to the other side of the room.

  KRRRRrrrrrrrr

  The orf growled: a rough, ragged sound, angry and tense. Billy raised his head from the floor and got his first good look at the thing.

  Every inch of it was alive with masses of quivering black fur. Its head and body were one and the same: a big lumpy orb of undulating hairiness. There were at least seven eyes, possibly more; Billy found it hard to make an accurate count under the circumstances. And there were legs—boy, were there ever legs. They projected from the orf's body on all sides, slithering and writhing, making it look like an enormous hairy octopus. Some of the legs were ten or twenty feet long. Maybe they were arms, actually. Maybe it didn't matter.

  The orf trained its eyes on Billy and breathed loudly. Billy noticed a six-inch-wide bald spot where the plasmatron had struck. The flesh was bruised but otherwise unscathed.

  This was not how Billy had seen things going. He wondered if he could reason with this thing. Right now, anything was worth a try.

  “Look,” he said, recalling that the guidebook hadn't entirely ruled out the possibility of orfs understanding English, “I, uh, mean you no harm.”

  It was a pretty ridiculous thing to say: he'd fired a weapon at the creature just a minute or two earlier. Obviously he'd meant the orf a great deal of harm. Now that he was defenseless, though, it was an even more ridiculous thing to say. The orf was as big as a Sherman tank, and any fool could see who was capable of harming whom. Still, it seemed like the right way to start things out.

  “I'm just a kid. I'm not an Affy.” But in spite of everything that had happened, he still wanted to be an Affy. He just hoped he'd live to have the chance.

  KRRRRrrrrrrrr

  “Listen. You like goats, right?”

  KRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrr

  “Well, look at me. I'm not a goat….”

  KRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

  “I'm not even close to being a goat…”

  KRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

  “… but I could get you some goats. Some nice, plump, juicy ones…”

  KRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

  “I can't bring them to you, though, if you don't let me go.”

  KRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

  “So whaddya say?”

  GAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!

  A hole opened below the orf's eyes, revealing an impossibly large set of teeth: dirty yellow, razor sharp, jutting out in every direction. A black tongue rolled around behind them, causing big globs of gooey green saliva to bubble out and ooze to the floor.

  “Orzamo!” Billy hollered as loudly as he could.

  Still no response. Wherever she was, it wasn't here.

  Billy raised himself on his elbows and scooted as far away from the orf as he could. Sadly, this added only about an inch to the distance between the two of them, since Billy had been pretty much up against the wall to begin with.

  Two hairy black arms crept across the floor toward his feet.

  “Please…,” he said.

  A third arm joined the first two, then a fourth and a fifth.

  “…if, if, if you let me go…”

  The arms began to wind around Billy's feet. “…I'll bring you a dozen goats. Two dozen. I swear.”

  The arms began to drag Billy across the floor, straight toward the mouth.

  “Nooooo!”

  KRRRRRRRrrrrrrrr

  Billy was now close enough for the green mouth goo to fall onto his legs in big wet globs. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might explode.

  “You don't want to eat me. Really you don't.”

  Blop. A melon-sized dollop of goo landed on Billy's thigh.

  “I mean, look at me. Very little meat. All skin and b-bones.”

  Splop. Another one, right in the middle of his belly.

  “Mostly bones, actually, hardly any skin…”

  KRRRRRRrrrrrrrr

  The orf raised Billy's feet and guided them into its mouth. Billy felt the point of one of the orf's teeth jab into his ankle.

  “P-poisonous bones!”

  Soon nearly half of Billy's body was inside the orf's mouth. Everything from the waist down was past the orf's lips. The rest of Billy was suspended just a few feet above the cave's floor.

  “Ch-choking hazard bones!”

  Bones.

  Bones. That's it!

  Billy reached back, grabbed one of the chewed-in-half goat bones from the floor of the cave, and clenched it in both his fists, jagged edge down.

  I've still got a chance! If I can just stab him in his weak spot…

  He raised it in the air and brought it down into the orf's gums with all the strength he had, right in the spot Ravi had described.

  KREEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeee

  The orf's squeal was so loud, Billy wished he could plug his ears. But that would mean letting go of the goat bone, and he wasn't about to do that.

  GRRRAAAAAWWWW!

  The orf roared and opened its mouth even wider. It was in pain, but it wasn't unconscious: not by a long shot.

  “Fall asleep!” cried Billy. “You're supposed to fall asleep!” Several more arms emerged, lunged forward, and snapped around Billy's neck.

  “Glpff !”

  He hadn't even had time to take a good, deep breath, and as of right now taking any breath at all was no longer an option.

  Maybe I didn't stab him hard enough. I've gotta try again….

  He raised the bone high in the air and prepared to bring it down for a life-or-death blow.

  SHUPP

  SHUPP

  SHUPP

  Three more orf arms shot around his wrists. They constricted with skin-burning force, and the goat bone dropped to the ground somewhere behind Billy's head.

  That's it, thought Billy. I'm going into the mouth. It's all over now.

  The orf stuffed Billy all the way into its mouth and began to draw its jaws closed around him. Billy felt himself plunge into a pool of warm gooey saliva as the orf arms let go of his body and withdrew. He immediately braced his feet against two of the orf's enormous molars and dug his nails into its spongy gums. He was determined not to go down the throat.

  I don't want to die!

  I've gotta hold on….

  …Gotta just…

  … hold on….

  All went black as the mouth shut completely, sealing Billy off from the light, from the cave, from the rest of the world.

  “What've you got in there?”

  It was a voice coming from somewhere outside the orf.

  There's someone out there! I'm saved!

  Only a second or two had passed since Billy had been stuffed into the orf's mouth. He could barely breathe (the smell was beyond disgusting) and he couldn't see a thing, but at least he was still inside the orf's mouth and not down in its belly. Strangely enough, the orf wasn't even trying to swallow Billy. It was just holding him in its mouth.

  “What is it?” the voice said.

  Billy wrestled an arm free from the goo and tried to clean out his ears for a better listen.

  “Come on. Show me. Open your mouth and show me.”

  KRRRRRRrrrrrrrr

  Billy clamped his hands over his ears. The growl was a whole lot louder when heard from inside the orf's mouth.

  “Now! Open your mouth and spit it out, or I'll…”

  BLLLUUBBSHHHhhhhhh

  The orf spat Billy onto the floor. He landed with a great big splop, his legs and arms flung
out in all directions, feeling as if he were half buried in a pile of warm jellyfish. He opened his eyes and saw…

  Twain.

  Twain?

  Yes, it was him: the leader of the AFMEC squadron that had crashed through Billy's bedroom window the night before. There he was, standing in the middle of the cave, looking as surprised to see Billy as Billy was to see him.

  He spoke to the orf—in English—and the orf understood.

  After a couple of sloppy attempts and a hard fall on his butt, Billy managed to stand up. He coughed and rubbed his eyes. “Mr. Twain?”

  Normally Twain would have been the last person Billy wanted to see, but under the circumstances his sudden appearance on the scene was very welcome.

  “Billy!” Twain leaned forward to get a better look at him. “Billy Clikk!”

  Billy sat up and stole a glance at the orf. It was somehow less scary than it had been just seconds before. Its teeth were still just as sharp and glinting, and its eyes still bugged out as if preparing to pop from its head. But it was strangely calm and motionless, like a soldier awaiting orders.

  “Don't worry, Billy.” Twain crouched down on one knee. “The orf won't hurt you now. I'm in charge here.”

  Twain? In charge?

  “Thanks,” said Billy. “Another minute and I'd have been… dinner.”

  Twain was not smiling. “You'd better tell me what you're doing down here, Billy.”

  “Well, I, uh…you see, my parents were assigned to, um, de-creatch the Taj Mahal, and…”

  “I know that, Billy. We're not talking about your parents. We're talking about you.”

  “Right.” Billy coughed again. “I… wanted to do some creatch battling, but Mom and Dad wouldn't let me.”

  “So you snuck down on your own.”

  Billy examined Twain's face before answering. He didn't look angry. Just annoyed.

  “Yeah. That's right.”

  “All by yourself?”

  “Yeah,” Billy said. As soon as he said it, he realized it wasn't true: Orzamo had come with him. But something told him not to correct himself just yet.

  Twain's up to something. I need to keep him talking….

  Twain turned to the orf and spoke to it like a doctor talking to a patient. “Show me your gums. I think I saw a wound.”