by TW Iain
Tris’ face was inches from hers, and Brice realised he’d never seen Tris squaring up like this, not to Ryann. But she remained impassive. She met his gaze and held it.
“We don’t know what will happen if we stay, either,” she said. “And he needs help.” She pointed towards Cathal, but continued to stare at Tris.
He stepped back, then looked down. “But the warths are still down there somewhere,” he said quietly.
“So we need to be vigilant,” Brice said, the plan forming as he spoke. “We need someone on the ground first. We lower Cathal, and the rest of us follow.”
“And what if the warths return?” There wasn’t the same anger in Tris’ voice now. It had been replaced by a pleading tone.
“We pull him back up, and whoever’s already down there climbs.”
“What if we’re all down there?”
In the stillness that followed Tris’ question, Brice turned away and listened. He could still make out the background of the rain in the trees, and the constant rumble from the storm. In the back of the cavern dripping water echoed.
“What if that thing comes back while we wait, Tris?” Keelin asked. “At least we know about warths. At least…” She glanced at Cathal and seemed unable to finish.
“We go,” Ryann said, looking at each of them in turn. When she caught Brice’s eyes, he thought that maybe she smiled. “Lesser of two evils. But we need someone good on the ground. Tris?”
His head shook once, then nodded. “I can do that,” he said, trying to convince himself.
“And Keelin, you climb down with Cathal. That gives us extra hands on the ground should anything happen. I’ll call if I sense anything.” Brice wasn’t sure if she was talking about the warths or the thing in the cave. “Brice, how long to set up?”
“Five minutes. Loads of good placements.”
“Get on it. Keelin, set up a sling for Cathal. Lots of padding. Tris, get ready to climb.”
Brice saw both Keelin and Tris nod. Ryann glanced at Cathal, then stood straight, hands on her hips. Her voice was sharp and loud.
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
Ryann fractured her mind, segmenting everything that was happening. She saw Brice set up the belay system, and noted his efficiency. She saw how Tris took deep breaths up on the lip, and knew he was struggling to keep his fear in check. She saw Keelin use webbing to build a body-harness for Cathal, and noticed with interest the tenderness with which she moved his body.
And she allowed her lattice to reach out to Cathal. She pushed into his own lattice, forcing herself on when it kicked back, even though she knew the dangers of this. But she needed to know what was happening. She needed to understand.
Blood still leaked from his wound. He had lost about a half-litre, maybe a little more. Not a great amount for such a wound, and Ryann had to assume that was down to his lattice. It would be doing everything it could to keep Cathal alive.
But it was working too hard. Energy raged through his body. Neurons fired too fast, and his muscles twitched on a cellular level almost constantly. Ryann knew Cathal’s body could not sustain that kind of intensity. Sooner or later, his muscles would start to atrophy, and neurons would start misfiring more often. If nothing changed, his own body would work against him.
She needed to get him back to Haven, but even then, she could think of little the medical team could do. They could artificially pump more plasma around his body, and they could control the temperature of his environment. They could keep him alive. But she couldn’t see how they could reverse the damage.
She couldn’t see any future for Cathal.
But they had to try. And they had to get away from this cave.
She watched Brice and Keelin lift Cathal into position, and she gave Tris a nod. He returned it, pushing his fear down, and started to climb.
And Ryann turned her attention to the rear of the cave, where the creature hid in the shadows and watched them.
Its signal was elusive, and her lattice seemed to slip around it. But she’d felt it, even as they brought Cathal back to this cave. She didn’t know when it returned, just that it was there, keeping back. It followed them.
But it didn’t attack. Ryann didn’t know what that meant.
She pushed towards it. She couldn’t detect movement now, and it almost merged with the lifeless rock. She might have described this as stillness, or calm, but it felt more like a void.
Ryann heard Tris saying he was down, and she pushed into the forest.
She looked over to Brice and Keelin, and gave them the nod. As they shuffled Cathal to the edge—something she didn’t want to watch, even though she trusted Brice’s rope-work—she returned her attention to the creature in the shadows.
It was unlike anything she’d come across before, even in the virtual scenarios in training. Yet there was a familiarity about it, something she felt she should be able to grasp. But it evaded her every time she pushed—not like it was actively rejecting her, but more like…she didn’t know what it was like.
She didn’t know anything about it. And that scared the hell out of Ryann.
Yet it stirred. There was a shift in its position, almost like it knew they would soon be gone.
Was that what it wanted? Had they crossed into its territory, and it only attacked to repel them? That would make sense, but only if she ignored how it had bitten down on Cathal and…yes, she had to accept this…sucked at the wound.
Like it was feeding.
“Ready,” Brice said, shouldering his pack. “You want to climb first?”
Ryann shook her head. She should be at the rear. But she didn’t want to be alone with that thing up here.
“There’s enough space to climb together,” she said, trying to make that sound like a logical solution rather than the act of a coward.
They climbed. Ryann didn’t enjoy this, but she could climb without struggling, and that meant she could keep focused on the creature.
As they dropped over the edge, it emerged from the tunnel entrance. She couldn’t feel its motion, but she could sense its void shift, and something sparked. Interest, or intelligence. Something vital, at odds with the dark cloud that surrounded the creature.
It reached the lip as her feet found soil—wonderful, moist soil, with all its sensations of life—but it came no further. It didn’t reach the cliff itself. Almost as if it didn’t want to get too close to the open air.
What now? What would Cathal do?
He’d make sure the crew was safe. He’d formulate a plan, and they’d follow it. And, Ryann realised, they had a plan—get to the closest hold-out. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was better than nothing.
She took a breath, looked into the trees—no warths nearby, which was a comfort—then back to Keelin.
“We walk.” But she needed to say more, and she thought how Cathal would organise things. “I’m on point. Keelin next. Tris, you’ve got the rear.” That was an important position, and the extra responsibility might keep him focused. “Brice?”
He turned, and she saw him glance at Cathal. “You want me to carry him?” There was a hint of resentment in his voice.
“Can you manage that?”
“Sure.” He shrugged his pack off. “Might work if he’s strapped to my back, though. He al
ready has a harness on. Keelin, give me a hand?”
Ryann wanted to smile at that, at the way he was stepping up. But another part of her knew she should have been the one to give the instructions. Cathal would have done that. Even if the idea had come from Brice, Cathal would have been in control.
“Get on it. We move off as soon as we can.” And, again, that sounded weak.
He stood straighter now.
He nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Yes, that was how Cathal did it. He pulled at strengths to cover weaknesses. He used whatever he could, and he got the crew working together.
She turned to look at Brice. He wore Cathal like a back-pack, tight against his body. Keelin had used webbing to strap the man in place, and even his head was bound to Brice’s shoulder.
“You okay with my pack?” he asked Keelin. Ryann noticed how she wore it across her chest, her own pack on her back.
“It’s fine. Not as much weight as you’re carrying.”
Brice flexed his shoulders. “Feels good. No slippage.” He smiled.
“Okay,” Ryann said, suppressing her own smile. “Let’s do this.”
She led the crew into the trees, and she almost felt confident.
Movement felt good to Brice, even with the extra weight he carried. Maybe because of it. He felt his legs pushing harder, and the warmth was a comfort. Even his breathing, deeper with each step, felt good.
Almost good enough to ignore the fact that, once again, he was doing the donkey work.
But he could understand why things needed to be this way. Keelin could never have managed to carry Cathal like this, and Ryann needed to be free to lead. And Tris? Data-boy might have been building his body up, but it was all for show. He wouldn’t have lasted more than a few hundred metres.
But it was annoying that he was bringing up the rear. Brice trusted Keelin to watch his back, but not Tris.
Ryann stopped every so often, holding up a hand in silence as she scanned the trees. Then she’d carry on, leading them through the undergrowth. They followed no path Brice could make out. But Ryann knew what she was doing. She was their tracker.
She stopped again, but this time she spoke.
Then she darted forward, disappearing into the foliage. Brice looked around. Trees, undergrowth, and mud at his feet. Rain drummed down, and it seemed to free a heady, moist scent from the forest. But when Brice turned his head, he caught a meaty undertow. It seemed to be coming from Cathal. Brice wondered when he’d last brushed his teeth.
The leaves rustled, and a shape moved. Before Brice had time to react, he heard Ryann’s voice, and knew she was back.
Ryann cut Tris off.
Brice walked in a crouch, and he felt the strain in his back. His lattice should be compensating, but maybe he was more exhausted than he felt.
It was dark under the trees, and Brice knew night had fallen. He tried to remember if warths could see in the dark.
Maybe it was looking for a place to bed down. But that was ridiculous—they had cubs, so they’d return to their nest.
Ryann sussed again.
That didn’t sound good.
Brice followed Ryann as she turned to the left, thankfully further from the warths. At least the two she was certain of.
Then she stopped.
Brice’s mouth was dry. He wanted to tip his head back and take in some of the falling moisture. But not with Cathal’s head so close. As it was, the man’s short hair kept rubbing against his cheek. The stink was stronger, too, and Brice’s stomach churned when he breathed it in. Maybe Cathal’s wound was festering or something. Or maybe Tris had soiled himself.
But Brice knew it wasn’t that. He knew it came from Cathal, and until they reached the hold-out, it would be around him constantly. He parted his lips, determined to breathe through his mouth.
Brice focused on his heart, massaging the muscles to slow the beating. He expanded his lungs, taking in a deep pull of oxygen. His adrenaline would be pumping—even if his lattice was no longer reporting that to him—and he needed to keep it under control.
He could see the warths now, dark shapes behind the trunks, green-edged but with the orange glow of heat. At least, he thought they were warths.
Brice heard a click from his side, and focused on his peripheral vision. Tris had one hand raised, a lash in his grip. The hand shook, and his finger hovered over the trigger.
Branches shifted, and Brice knew it wasn’t from the rain. In the trees level with their position, he caught more movement, higher up, like something was climbing.
A deep growl rolled through the forest, so low it seemed to come from all around. Then branches were thrown aside, and his lenses heat-signal flared brightly as a warth reared up, twice his own height. It opened its mouth with another roar, baring ugly teeth and sending spittle flying. The thing’s fur was flattened by the moisture, but its skin bristled and its muscles rolled.
Then it charged.
Tris stepped forward with a yell. There was a sharp crack and Brice almost believed he saw the path of the energy bolt as it flew through the foliage. The warth stumbled, and its roar took on an angry edge. But it didn’t stop.
Brice’s hand found his lash, but he didn’t have a chance to raise it before Tris fired again. Ryann was yelling something, but Brice couldn’t make out the words over Tris’ screaming.
Branches snapped. The roar grew louder. The whole forest came alive.
Then the warth flew to one side, cras
hing against branches and disappearing into the undergrowth.
One moment it was barrelling straight towards them, and the next it was gone.
But not because of the lash.
Brice saw it as an after-image. A shadow blurred from one side, ploughing into the beast, taking it down in a brutal tackle.
The roar rose and fell amid the sharp cracks and snaps of branches. The warth appeared again, spinning hard, limbs lashing out and teeth gnashing. Razor-sharp claws sliced through the dark, glistening with something that might not have been water. The shadow pounced again, landing on the beast’s back, and Brice saw teeth in the shadow, long and sharp, and they came down on the warth’s neck.
Brice’s lattice let him sense this, both in real-time and in replay. The warth’s roar morphed into an agonising, drawn-out cry of pain. The beast raised its great arms towards the treetop and tilted its head, snout pointing to the sky. Its fists and claws stretched back, trying to dislodge whatever clung to its back. And whatever had its neck.
A heat-intense spray of blood burst from the warth’s neck, and the beast’s scream became more primal. Others joined in, sharing the anguish. And the spray stopped as the shadowy creature dipped forward, its own mouth clamped over the wound. The beast’s yell became almost pitiful.
Then it toppled, and the ground shook.
And for a while, nothing moved. No more shapes shifted. No more leaves rustled, and no more branches split.
Brice heard the sound of breathing, and only now realised how close Ryann was to him. Turning as much as he could, he saw her half-glazed eyes, and the droplet of moisture that built up then fell from the end of her nose. He saw her nostrils twitch.
