“Sir?”
“What is it?” The Skeleton Man did not lower the binoculars.
“Something in the river ahead. Something floating.”
He swung his gaze to the water and found the object in question. It was the ranger, half of him anyway, rolling against the water’s edge. His left side was gone, his broken and splintered ribs open to the air like teeth.
“Someone is killing my park authorities,” he whispered, “and I have not okayed that. They are mine to kill if I want, no one else’s.”
“Yes, sir. And that is why we hunt this morning.”
“Indeed it is. This is my land, and I control it. Someone is trying to take it over, and I will not allow this.”
He returned to the Jeep and instructed his driver to stay on their course. “Take me past the waterfalls and be careful of the hippos. I like an animal that takes no shit from anyone. Then, drive into the nearest village and open fire. We will find out who is responsible for this intrusion on my territory before lunch.”
***
Janet felt her jaw drop as she watched the hulking spider flip out of the falls after Gellis. It spun leg over leg like a giant shuriken and was washed under the water. Gellis popped up in the middle of the narrow river and swam toward her, not bothering to look back over his shoulder.
“Swim faster!” She still didn’t see the spider but that didn’t mean it was dead. Of all the years she’d been mining in this jungle she’d been warned of crocodiles and snakes in the water, but never something like this. Could spiders even swim? Would it drown?
Her question was answered a second later when four hairy legs broke the surface of the water and batted the air, trying to grasp something stable. The spider’s collection of black eyes appeared next and then sank back down again. It somehow managed to maneuver itself forward at an alarming rate, its legs wildly treading the water. With a mighty lunge it jumped up and sailed forward toward Gellis.
“Duck!”
Gellis dove down and the spider landed right where he’d been swimming. It dove down as well.
“No! Antoine!” Janet watched in terror as the beast’s legs beat the air, its abdomen flipping over in the water. She could see that its legs were long enough to reach the bottom, allowing it to jump up.
Gellis’ head popped up for a brief second, a short distance to the side of the spider, and then went under again.
Janet fought the pain in her back and staggered toward the treeline, immersing herself in the blossoms and fronds overhanging the water. “Oh God no,” she pleaded. “Just go away. Just go away!”
The spider was stable now, on all eight legs, the water licking the underside of its abdomen, spinning in circles as it looked for Antoine. When it got around to her again, it froze, those four front orbs locked on her hiding spot. Shit, she thought, it sees me. It must have poisoned Antoine and now it wants more food. Still soaking wet and with a back that seared with white hot pain, she tugged at a low branch and tried to break it off for a weapon. But the tree was too moist, having been nurtured in morning after morning and night after night of rainforest humidity and precipitation. The branch merely bent into an L.
She saw the bush with the dynamite not far away. She might be able to run to it, but the spider would surely leap at her. And even if she made it she didn’t have the fuse caps. And even if she had those, she didn’t have a light.
Shit.
The spider raced at her, leapt with its legs splayed.
Janet turned and bolted into the trees. Fronds whipped her in the face, branches lacerated her thighs, her ankles threatened to roll and break over the soggy ground. The spider crashed into the trees behind her, thundering after her like a runaway tractor trailer. She felt the wind on her neck as it jumped and landed in front of her, making her skid and twist around, heading back toward the water again.
It leapt high into the canopy, a shadowy black vulture cresting above her head, coming down on her now.
Janet broke out of the treeline toward the river, still no sign of Antoine anywhere. Her back screamed in pain as she pumped her legs. Her foot sank into the mud at the edge of the water and she fell forward, her ribs taking the impact on a large rock. Her breath was lost, a numbing pain shot through her sides. This is it, she thought, reaching for the rock under her side. I made it this far and now I’m going to die.
She yanked the rock from the mud, sat up and watched the giant black spider come soaring out of the treetops before her, palps twitching, fangs dripping.
She raised the rock, her only weapon. “C’mon!”
The spider glided down at her.
She threw the rock, hit the spider in the mouth. Direct hit.
The spider exploded.
Hairy legs shot outward in all direction like arrows. The abdomen blew out like an overinflated balloon. Yellow goo and white silk formed ribbons in the air that washed over Janet, sticking to her like syrup. The spider’s head landed in the river behind her, eight black eyes poking above the water for a moment before sinking down to the bottom.
The water gurgled around her hands. The treetops fluttered with a light susurration. She did not understand what had just happened, what could have caused the spider to blow up like that. What the hell kind of rock had she thrown?
“You okay, madam?” Gellis came from her side. He was holding the backpack in one hand and a stick of dynamite in the other. A fuse cap had been wedged into the top of it.
Now it made sense.
“I’m fine. Nice throw. You timed it just right.”
“It was lucky, I am afraid.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’ll take a lucky shot over dying. How’d you light it?”
Gellis held up the jewelers loop, flipped out the tiny magnifying glass, pointed up at the sun. “Even children in Africa know how to burn ants on hot days.”
“Bloody amazing. I can’t believe it lit.”
“God was on our side that time.”
“I doubt God is on anyone’s side. If he was he wouldn’t have giant spiders running around.”
“You’re bleeding on your chest. Can you move?”
Janet stood up, felt her ribcage protest in agony. “I think I cracked a rib.” She unfastened a few buttons on her shirt and peeked down at her sides. Just under her bra was a black bruise, bleeding from the center. Under the skin, her rib bone was pushing outward a few centimeters. “I think I can walk. But where to?” She scanned her surroundings, trying to get her bearings. “We’re at the bottom of the mountain, where we found the gold deposits weeks ago. There should be a semblance of a road not far from here.”
“Yes. We must follow the river that way, past the hippos, and it will take us to a spot I know. It will be a day’s walk to the nearest Ranger outpost. We can call for help from there.”
“Another whole day with these things running around?” She kicked one of the mangled spider legs lying near her feet. “I’m in too much pain to walk.”
“I think walking is not the issue. Now, we must run.” Gellis’s eyes were wide, looking at the treetops around them.
Janet looked up as well and fought back a scream. Jumping spiders sat perched on the tops of the trees, studying them.
“What the bloody hell?”
Gellis whispered: “When I was little, we would catch certain insects for use in the stews. One way to get them was to tap the ground in front of their hiding spots. The vibrations made them come out, thinking there was prey nearby.”
“I think our little explosion brought them out to find their own prey.”
“Yes. Us.”
“So. Running. Now?”
Gellis nodded. “Now!”
Together, they bolted for the trees, launched themselves into the maze of greens and blues, trying their best to keep the river visible as a point of reference, following it as they ran.
A second later an army of giant spiders gave chase. One. Two. Four. Six. Ten. Twenty. More. They came from all over the jungle, curious about the e
xplosion. Chasing the prey that ran through the trees in front of them.
They were hungry.
***
Banga let go of the vines and fell to the water below. Jack watched the guide disappear beneath the water and then reemerge, no worse for wear. “Is it deep?”
Banga looked up. “Good to jump, sir.”
He’s polite even while we’re running from monsters, thought Jack. Americans could learn a thing or two from him. With a deep breath, Jack let go and fell to the water. It was cold and gritty, and might have even been refreshing on any other hot day. But right now all he could think of was whether or not a crocodile was swimming up at his feet, or what type of bacteria was worming its way into his nether region. He popped up, caught his breath, and swam toward the shore, following Banga. Behind him, he heard Derek plunge into the water as well.
At the water’s edge, all three men rested for a second on the muddy bank, staring up into trees at the top of the rock wall, waiting for the spiders to appear.
“Where’d they go, man?” Derek shook himself like a dog.
“Who cares. Let’s get someplace safe.”
“Better yet let’s just get out of the jungle. I have no camera, you have no pad and pen, Banga lost his rifle. It’s time to let this story go and get out while we can.”
Reluctantly, Jack nodded. It was not what he’d planned for, but sometimes you had to cash out and try again another day. “We’re coming back though. We’ll come back with the army if we have to but we’re coming back.”
“If I didn’t want that camera so much I’d tell you to fuck off, dude. But you know the readers these days: pics or it didn’t happen.”
“Pics or my story is a going to land me in a padded room.”
“I think something is crawling around near my dick.” Derek shoved his hand down his pants and came up with a long worm covered in blood. “The fuck is this!” He threw it on the ground and stepped on it. “Motherfucker was sucking on my dick.”
“You really do get all the play, don’t you?” Jack smiled. It felt good to be joking again, even at his friend’s expense. Poor Derek looked like he was going to throw up.
“Blood river worm,” Banga said, examining the worm in Derek’s boot print. “Feed on the hippos. Sometimes on the turtles.”
“What the hell! What the hell diseases does it give you?”
“Nothing. Is like leech. Harmless.”
“Harmless my ass.” He reached into his pants again, when he removed his hand his fingertips were covered in blood. “Oh man, it was going to town on my dick. Look at this.”
Jack laughed now as Derek took out his penis and showed the men the two small bleeding holes on the underside of the shaft. “Too bad, buddy. You’re going to have to explain to your wife why you have teeth marks on your little cameraman. She may get jealous.”
“It’s not funny, dude. It itches.”
“Itching will go away,” Banga said. “Is harmless.”
“Harmless my fucking…hate this stupid jungle…things eating my dick and spinning webs…fucking coulda gone to Egypt…dick itching bullshit.” With a scowl, Derek returned his situation to normal, zipped up his pants. He wiped his bloody fingers on his shirt. “Dick sucking bullshit worms.”
Jack chuckled at Derek’s complaining, but kept an eye on the waterfalls. The spiders still had not appeared at the top of the rocks. Banga’s theory must have been solid, the spiders were afraid of the falls, or if not afraid, were at least confused by them.
Or they were just still stuck in the trees and would leap over those falls in another few minutes. He could see them now, falling down with hairy legs out to the sides. The vision made him shiver. “Time to go,” he said. “Let’s follow the river this way and find ourselves some goddamn civilization. I have a feeling those things may still be coming.”
“Not a feeling. Is true,” Banga said. He walked a little ways down the bank, stopped and lifted up what appeared to be a large spider leg, bristles of hairs poking through his curled fingers. “Someone was here. There are devil parts everywhere, and footprints. Fresh ones.”
“Maybe the people we were after all this time,” Jack said. “The ones from up on the mountain. Maybe they got down here.”
“Could be. What’s that sound?” Derek’s voice had lost its anger. He was whispering now.
Jack heard them coming before he saw them, the trees all around the river’s edge began to shake violently. The spiders swam out from the canopy, emerged into the treetops, lording over the scene like sentinels.
Not far away there was a scream. A woman’s unmistakable yell for help.
Two spiders leapt in the now familiar legs-splayed method, hit the muddy ground behind Jack and continued on running as fast as racecars. More came out of the treetops. Jack felt his legs turn to rubber, looked at Banga for advice. The guide was watching the trees around them in amazement.
Beyond Banga, in the distance over his shoulder, Jack saw something even more magical than giant spiders, something that gave him a spark of hope.
A Jeep was coming their way. And Jack knew, as did everyone in the DRC, that where there was a Jeep in the jungle, there were men with guns. It was the only salvation they had, and right now he was prepared to take it.
If he could last long enough for it to arrive.
He turned to the two spiders advancing on him, gauged their speed somewhere in the thirty to forty mile per hour range, knew that he could not outrun them. Derek yanked him back, yelled, “Let’s go!” but knew they were as good as dead.
He prayed for a miracle.
“Jack! C’mon!”
It came from the river. A crocodile cut the surface of the water, enough to cause a splash, its tail snaking along the surface before going under again. The movement drew the spiders, triggered their innate need to hunt. The two spiders spun and jumped at the ripples in the river, splashing beneath the water, both coming up with the croc in their legs as the animal went into a death roll trying to free itself. With a rapid tear, the crocodile split in two, blood erupting like a fountain and bones cartwheeling through the air, the spiders sinking their fangs into either end of the animal.
“Head for the Jeep,” Jack said.
“What Jeep?” Derek’s eyes were still locked on the treetops where more spiders were swimming out of the greenery. The two spiders in the river were huddled over their prey, devouring it. Finally he saw it. “That Jeep? Great. Ten bucks says those guys are deadlier than these bugs.”
“At least they won’t eat us alive.”
“If it is a ranger, no,” said Banga. “If it is the rebels, they may, yes.”
“Fuck it,” Derek said, turning to run. “I’ll take my chances with the gunmen.”
They all ran.
Beside them, the trees continued to shake as the massive spiders leapt from branch to branch.
***
From the top of the mountain, Shumba looked down to the river below and watched in horror as the spiders crashed through everything in their path, chasing somebody just inside the treeline.
A ways up the river from this, three men—two white and one black—raced up the river’s edge, spiders jumping from tree to tree and scampering with blurred legs over the muddy ground beside them, hot on their heels.
Across the river, in an open field often used by the men with cameras to watch the hippos, a Jeep was slowing down. The man in the front seat wore a beret and a vest with military insignia on it. Shumba knew the insignia was meaningless to anyone outside of the man’s own followers. Behind the Jeep was a pickup truck full of young boys with guns.
“Father, there is a war starting down there.”
Musa drew close to his son, laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Yes, and the numbers lay in favor of the devils. I did not know there were going to be so many, but I have come to help where I can so I am pushing on.”
One of the other tribesmen, Ota, approached. His frame was thin and the walk had clearly exhauste
d him. “Us against all of that? We should have turned back already. We are not equipped to fight this army of demons. We’ll die.”
Musa’s voice grew deep and gruff, commanding attention. “Together, we can help, but not from up here. If you want to leave you may, but be warned that these things will find our families in a few days time, maybe sooner. Here they are in large numbers, and we can thin them out, maybe get them all if we can attract them further. Out in the open, there in that grassy field by the river, they have no means of hiding. There are no trees or boulders from which to ambush anyone. The men in the Jeeps have guns, which gives our kind an advantage.”
Shumba squinted, studied the scene below him more intently. “The men with the guns…I do not want to help them.”
“I understand. Being eaten by the demons is a better fate for them. But the white men, and whoever is in those trees, they need our help. Our families and friends will need our help next. Something has drawn the devils out of their hiding to this spot so here is where we will meet them.”
“The noise,” Shumba said, “the sound of the Jeep, the loud bang we heard, the yelling. They are attracted to this. These beasts are braver than we thought. But it is not their nature to be so bold.”
“Who is to judge their nature now, when they are this big and aware of their strength? The little ones, they hide and attack as a surprise, but like the hippo, these have grown confident and mean over time.”
Ota ran his thumb up his machete’s blade. “Is there a plan?”
Musa looked down. “Just to win. It’s too far to jump. We will have to climb down.”
“That leaves us open to attack. We cannot climb fast enough to evade monsters that can climb anything.”
“Then let us hope they do not see us. Come, Shumba, I want to talk to you.” Musa led Shumba into the shade of a nearby tree and put his hand on the boy’s head. “You look more like your mother every day. I see her in your eyes, and I see you in hers. I see your shoulders getting bigger and your legs thicker, and I sometimes cannot remember how little you were when you first came into my world. You are quite the young man, and I am proud of you.”
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