Don't Move
Page 13
The entire forest surrounding the cabin once again fell silent.
“Holy shit,” Vargas murmured to himself.
No one moved.
Had it sensed them? Was it creeping slowly toward the cabin?
Moments later, the arachnid scuttled up a tree trunk and disappeared into the canopy. Then the hissing split the air. At this range, it made Vargas feel as if his head would explode.
But then the racket moved away, diminishing by the second. Going to another part of the forest.
Vargas breathed a heavy sigh of relief. It seemed they were okay for the moment. No one spoke. The others, like him, were no doubt listening for the beast’s return.
During this time, they heard nothing from Rizzo. Vargas guessed the old man had said his last amen and was ascending that ghostly escalator toward the pearly gates of heaven.
“Something might’ve hit a web elsewhere,” Megan said, breaking the silence. “So now we know. It can’t sense us if we don’t disturb one of its webs.”
Emma nodded. “Now can we find a way through the tangle to search for my dad?”
“I say we go,” said Megan.
“Agreed,” Ryan said. “The faster we’re out of these woods, the better.”
Vargas agreed with the sentiment, though not with the route they were about to take. For now he kept quiet. A moment would come when he could make his break. The timing wasn’t right now. He had no UV light, and he needed these people to get clear of the trip lines.
As soon as that happened, Vargas was heading straight for the bus. On his own. Putting these events firmly behind him.
Chapter
Twenty-
Six
Megan stood facing the glowing forest. She rotated the UV light from left to right, searching for the start of the route they hoped would take them to Pastor Rizzo. The luminous webs between trees were roughly one, three, and five feet in height. The thick mesh of webs overhead in the treetops didn’t really matter.
She equated this task to when a burglar enters a museum to steal a precious vase, twisting and contorting to avoid the laser beams—the obvious difference being that if someone broke a web, they would quickly face a hell far worse than cops and jail.
Happily, that particular version of hell was hissing somewhere in the direction of the bus. She pictured it clambering through the treetops, hunting some unlucky animal that had sent a vibration down a web, steering the arachnid to its precise location.
The last thought made her shudder.
Megan zipped up her fleece jacket, protecting her neck from the cool night air. She looked over her shoulder.
Vargas stood directly behind her, pitchfork in hand and a steely resolve in his dark eyes. She had no doubt he would fight if they came under attack, though he would probably be fending for himself, given his odd preoccupation with something beyond their situation. He didn’t strike her as the altruistic type, but their job right now was to survive, not judge each other as human beings. As long as they stayed together and got through this, nothing else mattered tonight.
Then came Emma, with Ryan at the rear. Both held their packs by their sides. Wearing them wasn’t an option while stooping under trip lines.
Behind everyone, the cabin sat secured. If everything should turn to shit in the next few minutes, this was their rendezvous point. After that, she supposed it was a case of fight or die.
“Ready?” Megan asked.
“Can’t wait,” Vargas replied.
Smart-ass, as usual.
The other two just nodded.
Megan told herself to act with conviction. She already knew the terrible price of stalling or shying away from a dangerous challenge. She walked slowly and carefully to the tree line and their first obstacle. Once they were deep in the forest, there was no chance of running without posting constant location updates to the creature.
She carefully swung her daypack between the bottom two strands, and it thudded on the leaf-covered ground. Megan hunched down and shined her light on the two filaments. Up close, they looked twice the thickness of an everyday spiderweb, but spaced wide enough to stoop between.
On a normal day. One false move right now would cost everyone’s life.
Megan thrust her foot between the webs and planted it on the other side. Satisfied that she wouldn’t slip, she ducked through with utmost care.
She turned back toward the group, casting her light on the webs.
Relief washed away the worst of the fear. She hadn’t disturbed anything. The webs remained taut and still, glowing softly in her beam.
Megan took a few steps back, keeping the UV beam on the threads so the rest of the group could pass safely through. Vargas slid his pitchfork through, then ducked after it. Ryan and Emma followed, backpacks first. Every few feet, Megan repeated the procedure, and in that fashion they labored slowly through the forest.
The process was exhausting and required seamless concentration. Megan was accustomed to long bouts of intense focus after years at her job. But she worried that other minds—especially Vargas’s—would drift.
Within a few minutes, the moonlit cabin had disappeared from view. They had made it past their original path from the bus and were now heading toward the campsite.
The trees were packed tighter as the ground swept down toward the river, meaning smaller spaces to duck between. The undergrowth was denser too. One fern springing against a thread would likely bring the predator. Anyone could do that by accident.
She kept moving forward slowly and methodically, eyeing every blue-lit fiber as they moved through the forest.
They moved into the next cramped space surrounded by webs. Then the next. Like stepping-stones over a boiling pool.
The warmth of the day was gone, but sweat still beaded on her brow. She kept her breathing steady as she crept and crouched through to another small clearing.
Megan took a moment to survey the trees above them. Nothing moved. No hiss announced the creature’s presence.
So far, so good. But who could guess what might happen in the next few hours?
The rapids roared louder. A welcoming sound in the dead of night. It meant they were getting closer to their first objective. And possibly closer to Rizzo. Her hope was that he had somehow dragged himself to the campsite, figuring it was a safe space since the creature seemed to live in the trees.
But they hadn’t heard from him since the cabin. Maybe half an hour ago.
Once the other three joined her, Megan highlighted another row of trip lines to slip through. A few hundred yards beyond them, the expansive campsite came into view. Clear sky. Rugged mountains behind. No trees.
Emma shuffled her way to Megan’s side. “We need to speed up,” she said.
“We can’t rush this.”
“I know. I’m just saying . . .”
“I understand, Emma. You know I’ll do my best, but we must be careful.”
A few more minutes took them to the final grid of glowing threads. She ducked through and ran the UV light over the grass.
No webs.
Megan broke into a fast walk toward the campfire ring—a relief after all the slow, isometric straining from the cabin to here.
The others joined her while she played the beam over the campsite, searching.
No luminous lines.
And no Pastor Rizzo.
Emma’s heavy sigh behind her confirmed her last thought. He must still be in the forest somewhere.
“Looks like it’s clear,” Megan said.
As her beam passed over the remnants of the campsite, Megan caught sight of Connor’s tent, which they must have left behind in their hasty morning departure. Something glowed against the inner wall.
“Holy shit!” Vargas said. He edged back a couple of paces.
“Keep your cool, Ricky,” Megan said. �
��It’s too small for the creature to fit inside.”
“But not your dad,” Ryan said. Emma shot him a concerned glance.
Megan crept toward the tent, keeping her light focused on the wall. The others followed. As she closed in, the glow became brighter.
Within twenty yards, it was clear that cobwebs lined the tent’s sloping walls. A single filament ran from the tent’s entrance into the forest.
“So much for being safe here,” Vargas said from behind her.
“We need to check inside,” she replied.
“Careful,” Vargas said. “Who knows what other prehistoric shit lives in this forest.”
Megan couldn’t rule out the possibility, but she had to look. She dropped to all fours and crawled closer. The zipper on the door hadn’t been fully closed. She steeled herself, then shined the light inside.
“Please don’t tell me . . .” Emma said, her voice shaking.
“It’s empty.” Megan scrambled back to her feet. “Your dad must be somewhere else in the woods.”
“So let’s search. He’s close. You all heard him.”
“I dunno,” Vargas said. “We’re safe here until morning. We just stay clear of that web. We light a fire and send out smoke signals or some shit. Or we flag down some asshole kayaker as they go by.”
“You really are a piece of work, Ricky,” Ryan said. “First of all, we don’t know if anybody even runs this river. Second, are you really going to wait here while Pastor Rizzo dies?”
Ryan stepped closer. Aggressive. Scowling. This was the angry mechanic from the start of the journey.
“Cool your jets, amigo. Just spitballing ideas.”
Ryan stepped closer to Vargas. For the third time, Megan stepped between the two men. “Guys, let’s not go down this rathole again. I’m sorry, but Ricky is right on this. The smartest thing to do is light an SOS fire and wait for help. We are safer here, and we don’t know where to begin looking.”
“Damn right,” Vargas added. “In the forest, there’s a million ways to get caught. Here, we’re cool as long as we don’t hit that web going from the tent.”
“You realize that means the creature has been here too, right?” Ryan said. “It could hunt us out here in the open too. We’re not safe anywhere.”
Vargas remained silent, returning Ryan’s cold stare.
Emma grabbed Ryan’s arm and eased him away. This move seemed to calm him, though he was a long way from relaxed.
“She’s right, Ryan,” Emma said with a sigh.
“Let’s collect as much firewood as we can,” Megan said. “Just be very careful not to disturb that web.”
The group spread out, gathering fallen limbs and breaking off dead branches and roots. Megan worked her way toward the rapids, with Vargas by her side.
“You need to have patience with Ryan,” she said quietly.
“I’m almost out,” he replied. “Besides, him and me—we don’t want the same things.”
“Do we want the same things, Ricky?” Megan asked pointedly.
Vargas looked away.
Megan picked up bunches of sticks and pine straw they could use as kindling for the fire. She placed them in the fire ring, far enough away from the tent that she wouldn’t accidentally break the web. The others followed suit, adding to the pile.
Suddenly, the anguished voice of Pastor Rizzo cried out. And he sounded close by. Maybe only a few minutes into the forest.
“For God’s sake,” the pastor yelled. “Anybody. Please!”
“That’s him!” Emma cried out. “He’s that way!” She pointed at the far end of the clearing, and she and Ryan grabbed their backpacks.
“Emma, wait!” Megan shouted. She snatched up the UV light and her backpack. “Follow me, everyone. Be very careful!”
Megan moved ahead of everyone and faced the woods.
Ryan and Emma followed closely as she flicked on the ultraviolet light, illuminating thousands more webs in the forest, in the direction of Pastor Rizzo’s voice. She took her first cautious step into the woods.
But Vargas hung back.
Megan turned and looked directly at him.
“Ricky?”
“Yeah, you guys go ahead,” he replied. “I’ll be fine right here, thanks.”
“Are you serious?”
He peered up and locked eyes with Megan. Her eyes rolled with disappointment and resignation. Vargas looked down at the ground but didn’t move an inch.
“Fine. Stay,” Megan replied. “Get that fire lit.”
With that, she turned and took a few steps deeper into the woods.
Then she froze.
She swung her flashlight down. There in the ferns, a web had stretched across the small space between two green stems.
Her mouth hung open, but no words came. The arachnid had spun its trap across the ground too. They had been lucky so far, but that luck may have just run out.
A single web had bowed against her shin but remained unbroken. The slightest added tension could snap it.
But even this much disturbance may already have done the job . . .
“Guys . . .” she whispered loudly.
“Holy shit,” Emma said, staring down.
“What?” Ryan squinted as he stared into the ferns and saw the web against the shin of Megan’s pant leg.
“Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “Megan . . . don’t move.”
Chapter
Twenty-
Seven
Megan tried to dial back the fear that gripped her, and to ignore the urge to sprint for her life. Emma and Ryan stared at her, terrified the arachnid would soon be upon them.
Vargas was bending down, trying to light the kindling in the fire ring. As the pine straw caught and the bigger sticks began to burn, he looked at the group in the distance. They stood motionless a few steps into the tree line.
“Hey! What the hell’s going on?” he yelled.
No reply.
He snatched up the pitchfork and ran to the edge of the forest, where he took in the group’s situation.
Sweat trickled down Megan’s face. The web was bent taut around her pant leg but had not broken. Yet.
The group listened intently for any sound that the creature was on its way. They heard only crickets and night birds.
Megan finally said, “I’m gonna try and pull my leg away . . .”
She gingerly drew her leg back, terrified the web would stick to her pants and break. As she pulled back, the filament clung to the fabric, then twanged taut again.
Could the arachnid sense a vibration so slight? It seemed improbable. But not impossible.
Megan stood still and listened to the forest sounds. Crickets chirring and a couple of katydids clicking. A screech owl.
The other three stared upward. All waited for the distant hiss, growing in volume.
Megan frantically scanned the canopy. She winced at the creak of a branch. Turned at the breath of wind sighing through the forest.
But no hissing.
Then an odd stench invaded her nostrils. A mix of dirt and rotting meat.
Something moved in her peripheral vision.
Close.
Big.
Within touching distance.
The massive arachnid climbed down a nearby tree trunk, descending silently and smoothly on its horrifying eight legs. Megan turned her head to look at the monstrosity. Its multiple pairs of glittering black eyes, the shudder-inducing fangs. It emitted a low, staccato chatter, like the sound of an old-fashioned typewriter in the hands of an amphetamine-crazed stenographer.
It was less than three feet away.
Not daring to move a muscle, Megan whispered out the side of her mouth, “Everybody, freeze.”
Emma turned her head, following Megan’s gaze. Seeing the creature, she suc
ked in a breath.
Before she could scream, Megan reached over and clamped a hand over her mouth.
“It can’t see us,” Megan said softly. “It senses vibration. Don’t move a muscle. We can’t outrun it, anyway.”
The chitinous exoskeleton gleamed like lacquer as it passed inches from her arm. She stifled the urge to back away, despite being one twitch from brushing against the monster.
It wasn’t coming directly for them just yet, though that could change in the blink of an eye.
She stared in horror as the arachnid crawled into the undergrowth, head and body towering over the ferns. It was maybe six feet tall and had to weigh easily six hundred pounds. It stopped by the web that Megan had touched, only a yard from her boots, and palpated it delicately with a foreleg. She tried to will her galloping heart to slow down.
Emma let out a whimper. She had her lips squeezed together. In the moonlight, tears glistened on her cheeks.
Ryan quietly shushed her.
Please, God. Please make it go away.
But Megan knew that praying for divine intervention was not a strategy.
Vargas raised the fork higher. He looked as though he was going to attack the thing. Megan gave him a grimace of disapproval and an emphatic shake of the head. He lowered the fork a few inches.
She couldn’t control Vargas’s actions. Her only hope was that he saw the sense in not provoking the arachnid while it wasn’t coming for them.
The creature sidled to the right. It started methodically around the little glade, like a trapper inspecting his snares. It moved away from her and to within two strides of Vargas.
Vargas considered his limited options. The other three were like lambs going to the slaughter. Ryan and Emma stood side by side, paralyzed by the arachnid’s sudden, silent appearance. Clearly unsure what to do next. But doing nothing was never going to win the day.
Megan was probably trying to figure things out. Problem was, the forest wasn’t a boardroom, and the creature wasn’t some corporate douchebag.
He should have taken the UV light and made his own way, because one of these jerks was bound to break a web.