Shadowfall: Shadows Book One
Page 5
Brice balled his free hand into a fist and thrust it forward, jamming it into the crack. He clenched it tighter, and the rock grated against his skin.
But it held. Even when his other boot slid from the rock, his fist held.
He took a breath, heard a comment from someone, maybe Cathal, but he shut his eyes and ignored it. He took a second breath, holding it in as he scanned his body. The pain in his knee was fading fast, but his arm was pumped, the muscle too hard. And he realised his only point of contact with the rock was that fist.
Brice scrambled with his feet, and they found ledges. He swung his free arm, his fingers curling round the edge of the crack again. He transferred his weight to this hand and relaxed his fist. The skin was moist and sticky, his knuckles burning.
There was a drawn-out snap from below, cutting sharply through the drumming in Brice’s ears. The tree that had been shaking started to topple, falling towards the cliff. At the base of the trunk, one of the warths leaned against it, pushing hard.
They didn’t climb rock, but they climbed trees.
The tree crunched into the cliff, smaller branched crumpling under its weight, and it was close enough that Brice felt a rush of air. And then the warth grabbed the trunk and started to climb.
The tree ended above Brice, almost at the ledge. The spindly branches at the edge brushed against him.
Brice pushed the pain from his mind, and he climbed. Water cascaded down the rock. His hands moved over and over in the crack. His boots edged wherever they could.
The tree against the rock shook, and Brice heard it creak as the warth climbed.
The others were calling, but he wasn’t sure if it was through his lattice or his ears. They were standing on the ledge, looking down. Even Tris.
A flash of lightning lit the sky. The ledge was just above the top of the tree. A few metres, that was all.
Could a warth make that leap?
The crew drew their lashes. Brice pushed himself on. Hand over hand, one move at a time. Arm then leg, arm then leg. Just like a ladder. Just like a walk.
Cathal barked instructions, something about a weak spot.
Brice didn’t see the blur from the lashes, but he saw the tree shudder where the bolts of energy struck it. Cathal gave another yell, and they fired again.
And the tree started to move.
A warth growled, the sound rolling around Brice and making his skin tighten.
Cathal gave another signal, barked something about hurrying up, and this time Brice looked up in time to see the air blur.
There was a sharp crack. The tree shifted, and Brice looked through the branches, to the twisted trunk. In a flash—and maybe this was the lightning—he understood what Cathal was doing. He saw how the trunk teetered, and how it would fall if knocked off balance.
Brice gripped the rock tight. As the warth climbed, the tree shook, and water from the thinner branches sprayed Brice.
Cathal gave another yell. Brice shut his eyes and grabbed the rock tight, tensing his whole body. The tree groaned. He felt the rock vibrate. The warth let out a desperate roar.
Branches grabbed at Brice , threatening to pull him from the cliff. He forced his head against the rock, his whole body tight, gripping the rock like a limpet. The air was alive with creaks and cracks and sharp, angry splintering, and a strangled roar that faded as the tree fell.
And then there was just the rain washing down over his stinging hands.
He sussed, telling the others he was fine. Then he glanced down to the fallen tree, and to the three warths by the cliff, heads pulled back as they howled in loss. But the sound was too distant to be a threat now.
He turned back to the ledge and climbed.
Hands grabbed Brice at the ledge, and he let them drag him up. Strange how he felt so tired now.
The ledge stretched about fifteen metres along the cliff. It was wide enough to stand on, then it dipped down into a cave. The roof towered over Brice’s head, and water dripped into puddles on the uneven floor, the echoes sharp against the water cascading over the forest.
Brice fought the urge to call out and listen to his voice bounce back. Instead, he followed the others into the cave. It was good to be out of the rain.
“You okay?” Cathal asked, one eyebrow raised. Brice nodded. Cathal looked down to Brice’s waist, to his lash.
“The third one was about to attack.” What was he supposed to say?
Something slammed into his shoulder, and Brice turned, his fists already clenched. Tris’s face was almost in his own, his breath hot and angry.
“What the hell are you trying to do? You could’ve got us all killed down there!” Tris shook as he pushed hard at Brice’s chest. Brice stepped back, just one foot. “You think you could bring a warth down by yourself, you stupid bloody…”
Tris pushed again, but Brice was ready. He blocked with his arm, then brought his own hand up, just like in training. Not the official training, but the sessions at night, when he’d join the few others to learn more useful techniques. His fingers found Tris’ throat and squeezed, just enough to let Tris know he could apply more pressure if he wanted to.
“Cut it out!”
A hand came down on Brice’s wrist, and Cathal stepped in, between Brice and Tris. He saw Ryann and Keelin behind Tris, pulling him back. Keelin had one of his arms, and Tris struggled against her grip.
“Brice, Tris. No time for this.”
Brice released his grip, nodding at Cathal, doing his best to look…not repentant, but accepting. He wasn’t the one who had started it, after all.
“Tris, keep yourself in check.”
“Hard when you’re working with kids!” But Tris only muttered that, turning away when Cathal glared at him.
“And Brice…” Cathal brought his face in close enough for Brice to feel his stale breath. “Brice. You do anything stupid like that again, I’ll get you reassigned. We’re professionals. We work together. You ignore instructions, you put us all in danger. You understand?”
“But the third warth…”
“I asked a question.”
His mouth dry, Brice nodded. “I understand.”
“Anything else?”
Brice felt ten years old, and he hated Cathal for that. But he gave the answer his commander expected. “Sorry.”
“Learn from this, Brice.”
Brice nodded again.
“But he did spot that third warth,” Keelin said in a small voice. Brice wanted to smile. But Cathal would think he was being smug, and Tris would get riled again, and…no, best to keep his face straight.
“He did,” said Cathal, turning to the rest of the crew. “Doesn’t excuse his actions, but he did see it. Ryann?”
“I should’ve sensed it.” Her eyes glazed for a moment. “I can now, but it’s weak. Like it’s partially protected. Hard to explain.”
“It was covered in mud.” Brice wondered if any of the others had spotted that. If they’d even bothered to look at the thing.
“Might explain part of it, but not all. No, there’s something else. It’s…interesting.”
Interesting. Not the first word that came to Brice’s mind.
“Intentions?” Cathal asked.
“Unclear. There was a nest nearby. But three warths acting together like that is unheard of. And the attack seemed unprovoked. If I had to be pinned down on this, I’d say they were scared. It’s worrying.”
That was a more appropriate word. But how about freaky, or deadly? How about we need to get the hell out of here?
Cathal must have been thinking something similar. “We need to plan,” he said. He turned to look into the cave, then out to the dark clouds rolling over the tree-tops. “So, options. We could take our chances heading for the hold-out, and risk meeting those warths again. We could wait for dawn. Maybe Haven might have thought about sending someone out.”
There was a lilt in his voice, and at another time Brice might have laughed. Even if
the Proteus had managed to send an automatic update—and with the power playing up, how likely was that?—there was no guarantee Haven would act on it. They trusted crews to fend for themselves.
Keelin closed her eyes, and Brice knew she was trying to reach their Proteus. None of the others said a word, but they all watched the pilot. When she opened her eyes, they were moist. She shook her head.
Ryann placed a hand on Keelin’s shoulder, and the look that passed between them could only mean a private suss. Then Ryann turned to Cathal, and Brice knew they, too, were communicating. So much, he thought, for them working together.
“One more option,” Cathal said, looking into the cave. “If we’re stuck up here, we use our time wisely. We explore. Ryann, brief us.”
“We know the cliff’s riddled with caves and tunnels, but we have access to no data. That means we have no maps. We go in, we rely on our own intel.”
“So, three options,” Cathal continued. “Take our chances in the forest, wait for Haven to get round to finding us, or explore the caves. Crew vote. Brice?”
His answer was obvious. They couldn’t rely on a rescue, and the forest was damp, depressing and full of warths. And it would be good to see something new for a change. “Caves,” he said.
“Tris?”
“I say we wait.” He glared at Brice. “Don’t want any more accidents.”
“Keelin?”
“Best of a bad choice—explore.”
“Ryann?”
“Explore. I vote caves.”
Cathal nodded. “Vote carried. Tris—how do we go about this?”
Tris scanned the dark depths of the cavern. “We go slow and steady. Just so we don’t miss anything. Start here, record everything. Be ready to return,” but he stumbled over that word, and it almost came out as ‘retreat’. “We don’t take any stupid risks.”
Brice snorted, but not so loud that any of the others heard him. He knew what Cathal was doing—giving the dissenter a say in what they did—but Tris’ response was pretty trite. Go slow, and be ready to run away. About what Brice expected.
But Cathal nodded. “Sound like a plan. Okay, let’s do this.”
Brice peered into the depths of the cave, searching for the rear wall. Pulling up filters, he saw dark, cold areas that must be passages, and he wondered where they led, and what they held. Not warths, of that he was certain. And it was too dark down here to sustain life—all life needed light, right? He was certain he’d heard that somewhere.
Maybe it was adrenaline from earlier, still running through his body, but for the first time in ages, Brice was excited.
This was adventure. This was exploration. This was what he’d signed up for.
Ryann kept her frustrations in check. They were entering the unknown, and she needed to remain alert.
But she had made a mistake. She should have sensed that third warth. She should have done more to protect the crew.
And, in truth, she had sensed it, but she’d pushed it to one side. Warths never moved in threes, so she told herself it wasn’t a threat. It felt distant, or maybe it was immature. Even if it was close, it wouldn’t intrude on the territory of the other two. She’d ignored it, focusing on the immediate danger.
Yet there had been a fourth signal, one that was even less distinct than the third warth. It felt like a sound on the edge of hearing, and nagged at her like an itch that refused to let up. It felt strangely familiar, although it was definitely neither a warth or a person.
It came from the cave. She was certain of that. It felt like the thing was watching, but as they climbed it retreated. And now, as they walked the cave, spaced out in standard formation, all Ryann tasted was a trace that was little more than a hint.
She followed the hint, but the path seemed to double-back, and she caught the flavour from both sides. It hung above her, too, and she imagined a lizard clinging to the rock. But this was no lizard. They were cold-blooded beings, and the flow of the energy in their blood was clear to a tracker. No, this new signal belonged to something that…that possessed a different kind of energy. Something that was not quite life as she understood it. More of an existence.
Unclear, and troubling. Ryann needed to be careful. She had the crew to keep safe. But she needed more data before she made a firm analysis.
As if on cue, Cathal sussed.
That was interesting, how he used the word ‘please’. She’d noticed how he said it to Keelin earlier, when she’d been trying to raise the Proteus. ‘Keep trying, please.’ It was something to keep tabs on.
That was ominous.
Of course, that was what he really wanted to discuss.
He paused, as she knew he would.
He was silent for a moment, then sussed,
The use of the name surprised her, especially the way he gave it no inflection. But his use of the word ‘crap’ gave a better insight into his thoughts. The company was what it was, and he’d deal with that. But he didn’t like being kept in the dark.
And his mind was connecting the dots.
It wasn’t the question Ryann had expected, and it caught her off-guard. She hated to lie, but…she had to do what was best for the crew. She couldn’t encourage unfounded fear or panic.
Why did she have to mention monsters? It wasn’t like she even gave any credence to those rumours.
Of course people muttered about the caves, and what they might contain. It was human nature to populate dark corners with fears. There were those who pushed the company to allow exploratory missions into the caves, if only to reject the fanciful rumours, but Kaiahive refused. Their focus, they said, was on the basin, especially the area closest to Haven.
And, Ryann understood all too clearly, it was in t
heir own interests if the rumours and stories persisted. Stories worked on the mind. They were far more powerful than physical restraints.
Ryann pulled her thoughts back to the cave as they neared the rear wall. She started to analyse, running through some of the data stored in her pack. There was not much that excited her. The rock was a dead thing, dull and uninteresting. The few patches of life clung to the cave entrance, and she ran through the various variants of lichen and moss she’d detected. None of them excited her.
But as they retreated from the entrance, those other traces grew stronger. They had a bitter taste that took her back to her childhood, and her father slaughtering their livestock. Even as a child, she could tell his reasons by the tang in the air. The healthy ones he killed either for sale or for food were lively, their essence struggling to be contained. But the sick ones, and those close to death, had a distinctive flavour that permeated her gut and twisted her stomach. Before she understood her innate abilities, she would blame her father for their suffering, and would refuse to speak to him for days on end.
Now, of course, she understood how he was setting them free from suffering, even though such actions always pained him.
The traces in the cave had a similar flavour. Ryann considered the possibility of a crew carrying a fallen colleague, but she discounted that. She’d have sensed the traces of the healthy ones. She knew no crew apart from her own had set foot in this cave, at least not in the last few days.
“Okay,” said Cathal, pulling Ryann from her considerations. “Check your data, then double-log it. Anything worth noting?”
“Just a big empty cave,” said Tris, trying to sound confident. His voice was too loud, though, and he flinched at the reverberations.
Data flowed through Ryann. It pushed in from the others, heading straight to the storage in her pack, and at the same time her own data pushed towards Cathal.
“Brice, you ready to send?” Cathal asked. Ryann scanned—Brice’s data hadn’t transferred automatically.
“Sent it.” Brice spoke quietly, and there was confusion in his tone.