“Ah man, that’s gross!” exclaimed Mikalah, mortified that the thing had been a plant, a plant that moved about like a snake.
Sick!
Joaquin nodded at her. “They’re somewhat slow. They wait until their prey is asleep. Then they spray the air about their intended meal with a kind of knockout gas it emanates from those thick hairs covering its body. Once it has its’ food snug in its coils, those same ‘hairs’ with seek out the various orifices and other tender regions of its’ victims. It shoves them deep into the flesh of its’ prey. Once successful, the Creep will begin to eat its’ catch through those filaments. They grow longer and multiply over the course of its’ eating, until its’ food is just about covered with them. Over time – and this could be up to a month later - a Crawling Creep with disengage its ‘hairs’ from its victim. It lets them fall from its' body, sloughing them off, leaving only a skin sack filled with bones behind…”
“God damn,” cursed Sophie as she shuddered in Anthony’s arms.
“It is still no excuse,” piped-in Mr. Patas. His high-pitched squeal made Mikalah cringe.
“What is this you speak of, old friend?” asked Kodiak.
“I should never have fallen asleep. We could have lost one of the Twelve! For that there is no excuse,” answered the rabbit-man, his voice thick with conviction, conveyed with a screeching tone.
“Do not waste your time dwelling upon that which cannot be undone,” counseled the Bear-dog. “There was no way you, me or any other member of the Fist could have accounted for such a creature here in the Melded World. We had no idea it could induce one to sleep with any specificity. There was no manner by which you could have prepared. Let it go. I will have no more of it.”
“As you say, great canine, as you say,” proclaimed Mr. Patas, crossing his arms before him.
“Well, it is all quite disgusting, if you ask me,” commented Garfield as he sauntered back into the lot of them. “I dragged the god-awful thing off into the bushes, where it can rot,” he finished with a feline harrumph. As far as he was concerned the matter needed no further discussion.
“I doubt if it’s dead,” rationalized Joaquin with a slight shake of his head.
Kodiak gazed at the approximate location where Garfield had left the Creep. “What makes you say that, Joaquin?”
He shrugged his good-sized shoulders. “They have prodigious regenerative capabilities. It takes fire – intense fire – to kill them outright, and sometimes even that doesn't work. If left unchecked, they will regrow the damaged areas and move on.”
“Is this true despite the fact Mikalah mangled a good part of its’ front end?” queried Garfield, his brows raised, incredulous.
Joaquin nodded again.
“Hmmff,” sniffed the great cat. “Nasty, resilient things, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, most things from the World of Storm are just that,” explained the large teen, running a hand through his mussed hair as he stood.
“World of Storm?” question Anthony, fear creeping back into his voice.
Joaquin peered down at him, squinting in the glare of the morning sun. “Yeah,” was all he said.
“What makes you think it’s from those environs?” asked Garfield. He too was looking to where he had left the plant-snake.
“My Gift is telling me that it is…”
A short stillness befell them as the wind blew through their group. It was still cold, but refreshing after the confinement in a cave over the course of the past four days.
“…I think everything we saw in the cave, moments ago, was from the World of Storm. As things progress, I bet we’ll be seeing even more of the inhabitants of that terrible place,” uttered Joaquin. The last part he said to himself, though he spoke loud enough for them all to hear.
“Why, Joaquin?” wondered Anthony.
“I just have a bad feeling about it.”
They all seemed to consider Joaquin’s reply for a moment, then Kodiak spoke. “Let’s get Sophie back into the cave. There we can figure out what to do once we have attended to her needs.”
“Does that mean we can finally go out and get the camping stuff at Jason’s house?” asked Mikalah, her typical girlish energy bubbling to the fore.
“I think so,” retorted her brother as he wrapped his arms once again about Sophie and together they came off the ground.
She leaned into Anthony, getting her feet under her, a tentative attempt at allowing them to bear her weight.
“Finally!” exclaimed Mikalah. All the disgust on her face washed away. In the light of the sun, her visage was aglow with excitement.
“Yeah, we should -,” Joaquin was about to agree when something seemed to hit him – hard. They were thoughts and images, not his, delving into his consciousness with brutal force and without mercy. He stopped mid-sentence, staggering, putting a knee to the snow-covered ground. His hands clutched at his head.
For a moment, Mikalah thought he was about to fall to the ground, but Garfield was there in an instant. He leaned against the large teen, supporting him with his considerable bulk. The great feline seemed unbothered by the other’s weigh. This despite Joaquin weighed two hundred pounds.
“Joaquin, are you alright?” grumbled Kodiak.
Only silence followed.
*****
Joaquin could not answer…
…More and more images streaked before his eyes, swifter with each passing second. It was as if he were watching some fantastical slide show with photographs of amazing detail. There were scores of them. No, there were hundreds, thousands, each one scorching his brain with unfeeling purpose. He could feel the others gather about around him. He even heard someone say: “Whatever was going on, it appeared to have something to do with his Gift…”
They retreated a bit. They gave him room to breathe as he half-stood, half-leaned against Garfield. The onslaught continued.
Unlike before, he did not fight it, he steadied his breathing. He began to inhale and exhale in long, slow gulps of air, letting his chest expand to its fullest before he breathed outward.
Of the images, he welcomed them, studied them and learned them. He chalked every iota of information into a corner of his mind for use afterward. He stood straighter as time passed. The visions filled him - scenes of trails and dirt roads, forests and hills, and a gigantic valley. Next he saw a sloping landscape, then a wide trail, the trail leading up and into the mountains. It was a winding, turning, twisting trail. It led to even higher elevations, farther and farther up. In the World of Man, these were peaks towering above the city of Los Angeles. Here though, in the Melded World, they guarded a vast unexplored primeval, conifer forest.
So, he let them come. He watched and felt his brain grown. He let the knowledge pour into him like corn into a silo, ever flowing. It was inexhaustible, filling, filling and filling.
He saw it then, the Grove, just as before, but no longer where it once had been…
The images stopped.
He took a few side-steps, standing on his own.
The act gave Garfield some respite, though he did not seem to need it.
He could feel twelve sets of eyes boring into him.
“What did you learn?” asked Anthony, breaking free from Sophie. He came forward to look into Joaquin’s visage, concern plain upon his face. His eyes searched the others’ for clues, any notion of what had happened.
He’s already beginning to see the signs. When my Gift is active, he knows, though Joaquin, rubbing his temples.
“It moved,” muttered Joaquin after a time.
“What moved?” inquired Kodiak, coming forward as well.
“The Grove. It moved farther away, to a more hidden place. A place where Fenris can’t find it, or so I assume,” he managed, feeling more like himself. “I think. I hope.”
“You mean it’s not in Shoal Canyon anymore?” inquired Anthony. Of a sudden, he remembered Sophie was still unsteady upon her feet. He went back to her, one arm about her waist in one s
wift motion.
Joaquin shook his head, “no”.
“Where then?” It was Anthony again, trepidation creeping into his tone.
“It is in the mountains, near Crystal Lake, way, way up there beyond at least fifty miles of trail. Fenris must have found its’ original location. Sometime during the snowstorm, the magic surrounding us, the Twelve, and moved it to a safer place, one known only to us.
They were all staring at him like he was mad.
“The magic is strong, you guys. The utter meaning of strong,” he mumbled. He was out of breath, though he had only spoken a few sentences.
“Oh wow,” mumbled Sophie, rubbing her scalp, agitated. Her other hand fell to her hip, clutching at Anthony’s arm.
“But you can get us there, right?” asked Anthony, trying to change his voice, pushing away tones that might upset the others.
Joaquin let his smile grow. “Absolutely… It’s just a bit more of a trek, but I can get us there, no problem.”
Anthony spun on his heel. “Good, then let’s get Sophie squared away, clean up the cave and then gather what we need. Then, we head out and see, if by some miracle, Jason’s house has made it through the Rending,” he announced with a flourish.
As they made their way back toward the others to one side of the fallen trees, Kodiak called out to Elena. Her deep bass tones echoed across the land. “Elena!”
“Yes!” answered the girl, coming around the hips of Mugzy, who had, been standing before her, shielding her the entire time.
“I need you to summon your Gift?”
The little girl turned her head to the side, being cute, though she appeared confused to Joaquin. “Ok…,” was her unsure reply.
“Come with me. We have some vermin to get rid of, my dear.”
As the gravel-like voice of the bear-dog dissipated, Joaquin could not help but smile.
Kodiak was going to have Elena burn the shit out of the Crawling Creep. She too was not taking any chances.
From behind, he heard Sophie ask Anthony, “Do you think you can carry me? My feet are freezing. I guess that creepy-thing didn’t see fit to put on my shoes before it decided to make a meal out of me.”
“Oh my god!” exclaimed her boyfriend. “Of course! I forgot you didn’t have shoes on. Come over here.”
“Weeeee!” She was playful, enjoying being in his arms.
Joaquin turned in time to see his newfound friend hoist the stunning teen in his arms.
Lucky bastard, he thought, thinking of Clarisse, a forlorn expression on his face.
~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~
~ 8 ~
New Worlds
Day Four, Sunday, 8:12 am…
Once they concluded that Sophie’s injuries were no more than a few minor scrapes and bruises, they got about cleaning the cave. They did well considering a major brawl had occurred within its’ cramped confines less than an hour earlier. It had not taken long. Elena had reduced most of the corpses to cinder and ash. Thus, it was more of a sweep and mop operation versus anything having to do with blood and bones.
After they picked up what had fallen, righted what had tipped over, they began to prepare for their journey into the Melded World. They mulled over everything, rehashing their thoughts and re-organized yet again. Until, about forty minutes later, a sense they were ready for just about anything began to emerge. Yet, they spent another half hour digging out of the narrow, open-aired passage leading from the cave. They had all run through the passage earlier, but they could not move the sled-bound carts through until they cleared all the snow. They had to pile the icy precipitation in huge mounds within their sanctuary itself. There was nowhere else to put it.
As time progressed though, an eight by ten foot jumble of the white precipitation in their wake, they emerged. They had packed and were ready for their short foray to Jason’s house, hoping it (and all the camping gear) was still there.
They came from the cave in a strict formation, having planned in advance how they would travel through the Melded World. They wanted to ensure the most protection to those who needed the most protecting. So, Garfield came from the passage first, swift and silent. He looped to the left, then the right. He stopped once to sniff at the twisting trail left behind by the Crawling Creep now burnt to a crisp thanks to Elena. He did not find anything of note and was off again, ranging farther ahead, looping to the right of the cave. He was heading in the general direction of what used to be the intersection of Colorado Boulevard and Figueroa Street. It was an area they would need to find to orient their position upon the landscape. Without landmarks they could recognize, they would lose themselves in minutes, forever gone astray.
A minute later, Mr. Patas hopped out from the concealed entrance and stood, quiet, unmoving. His great ears strained for any sound that did not belong. He waited, still, his great lobes turning this way and that.
A few minutes after, Garfield came traipsing back through the snow and trees, nodding once to the rabbit-man.
With an acknowledging bow, Mr. Patas ducked back into the cavern. He motioned to the remaining members of their group the way was clear. He immediately ducked back out. He skip-hopped twenty yards or so in front of the rock pile, the marker of the location of their new made home.
Mugzy came out next with Anthony and Sophie following behind him. Elena and Mikalah followed, each one of the girls clutching onto the coats of one of the larger teenagers before of them. When they came around the large boulder at the end of the passage, Anthony and Sophie bracketed the girls. As a group, they continued to walk forward, looking about. They stayed behind Mr. Patas and Mugzy – all following Garfield’s trail in the snow.
Kenai, Louis and Kodiak came into view next. Each of the bear-dogs pulled a shopping cart one-third filled with the supplies they would need. When they continued past the boulder, the bear-dogs moved parallel to one another with Louis between them. Their huge bodies blocked him from view on either side.
Last to come from the cave was Andrew, Joaquin and Jason. They formed a sort of triangle at the back of the procession. Andrew at the tip of that triangle and the two other boys spread out behind him on either flank.
Sophie glanced about, surprised. Now that she had recovered from the effects of the Creep’s sedative, the Melded World was unlike anything she had seen in the past. Though she had already been outside, it was still pleasing to be in the open once again. This time she could soak it all in at her leisure.
There no trace of the snowstorm that had raged for so long. The bright rays of the sun were somewhat warm. They were much more soothing to the mind. Though she felt little warmth from the landscape itself, the briskness of the early morning was still comforting against her cheeks. She welcomed it, glad inside, especially after having gone without it for so long.
All about them, the snow piled high and deep, covering everything. Every tree seemed to bend or droop under the sheer weight of it. Even the trees of foreign in nature sagged and drooped as if under strain. These types were strange looking growths, towering above them, sprinkled about the land. Some of them topped at one hundred and fifty feet.
She was not sure she could call them trees, though. Their bark was black and appeared more metallic than wooden. They had long, spindle-like limbs, protruding at odd, unnatural angles. They were uncharacteristic of any tree she seen in memory or read about in books. Their leaves were just as unnatural. To be specific, they were preternatural and they did not grow from just the smaller branches and twigs either. They sprouted from every inch of the tree. Every single one of them grew perpendicular to whatever limb or branch from which they grew, the trunk included. These leaves were long and seemed more like daggers or long knives than something growing on a tree. The largest of them shot out from the trunk itself and were a foot in length. They looked sharp, even at a distance.
“Spindle Downs,” said Joaquin from behind. He had noticed her staring at the strange growths, raising his voice so they all could hear. “From the World o
f Storm as well… beware of the downward facing leaves. They drop off on purpose onto any unsuspecting victim in hopes of cutting him or her to cascade blood onto the ground. Believe it or not, they feed on it.”
Eeew! thought Sophie, but large boy went on.
“Some of them on Storm - some of the ancient ones - have grown over a thousand feet tall and have leaves that can cleave a grown man in two. They can be up to seven feet long and can weigh upwards of seventy pounds…
“Anyhow, whatever you do, don’t walk underneath one.”
What a hell, thought Sophie. The World of Storm must be a shit hole!
Of the smaller plant life, she could not make them out as individuals. Whether it was a bush or a fern or a sapling they were all buried. All around, they formed humps and bulges of varying sizes, stretching on and on across the landscape.
Yet, in some cases, she did spy other oozing or razor-edged foliage poking through the snow, into the sunlight. These plants did not look familiar either and grew in bizarre fashion. They gave the impression they were bright, glimmering, either red or orange, or in one case - a vibrant blue. Others appeared withered or dead, oozing a putrid smell that made her wince. These ones seemed to draw the eye, almost as if by some compulsion. They were otherworld-ish, alien and frightful at the same time. She swore she could feel intent whenever she gazed upon one, as if it had a mind of its own. It was calling to her. It made her shiver every time she looked at it.
It was a greenish, low-lying plant. She saw it belch a black cloud of dust-like motes into the air. It had been off in the distance. She had wondered what it was, but pushed onward instead. She was not sure she wanted to know after all. Besides, there were things of greater importance to attend to than mere plant life.
Ok, just remember to avoid the Spindle Down. You see one; you keep pushing on, girl.
She realized, walking as she was behind creatures much larger of foot than she, was beneficial to say the least. They broke the trail for her, so it was easier going through the trampled snow they left underfoot than if she had been in the lead. She was thankful for their efforts, even if to them it was a minimal thing.
Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves Page 8
