The spiders did not thin as they rounded the bend.
How many can there be?
Arturus could not see well from the center of the huddle. The hunters around him were warm and sweaty. It was hard for him to keep his balance as they were constantly pushing him from all sides. Johnny did lose his balance, but stopped himself from falling by reaching out and touching the wall. Arturus caught a glimpse of his spider covered hand.
“Fuck.” Johnny shook them off. “Fuck, fuck.”
Arturus caught a glimpse of Johnny’s hand again between Aaron and Duncan. It was a bloody mess.
“How do they keep getting on me?” Kyle asked.
Galen pointed up.
Arturus looked but wished he hadn’t. Some of the silverlegs had managed to cling to the ceiling. They dropped off from time to time.
The torches scare them and they lose their footing.
“Jesus,” Kyle muttered. “Which way, left or right?”
“Right.” Aaron replied.
They crept down the corridor. The smell was awful, like food after a corpse had gotten into it.
“Will they come after us?” Wistan asked.
“Dyitzu probably won’t,” Galen answered. “They’d have to burn their way through, or the spiders would rip them to pieces. The Icanitzu might, though.”
I couldn’t fight one here, amidst the spiders.
The right side of the passage opened up. Beyond it was a wall of rotting flesh and spider eggs.
“Oh God.” Arturus wasn’t sure who said it.
“Keep moving.” That was Aaron.
“My torch is getting low,” Wistan warned.
“Get him a replacement,” Aaron ordered. “Wistan, don’t light it until you’ve used that one up, you got me?”
“Yes, sir.”
A spider dropped onto Avery’s shoulder. Arturus reached to flick it off of him. One of the legs caught in his fingernail. He had to swat the thing off with his other hand. It left an odd dent in his nail, right above the cuticle.
“Left or right?”
“Right.”
Arturus heard a sudden rush of flame. The popping became louder and more consistent. The rain of pins got louder as well. He stood on his toes and craned his neck to try and see what was going on around him but was pushed back down as the group kept going.
“Switched torches,” Wistan reported over a sudden rush of fire.
Arturus stepped on a silverleg. He felt the slightest tingle in his big toe.
One of its legs is stuck in my boot.
He felt the tingle with each step. He lifted his foot to try and work out the needle but had to put it down to catch his balance. The tingle became a tiny shout of pain.
Can’t do anything about it now.
“Right or left?” Arturus was losing track of who was saying what.
“Right,” Aaron answered.
“We’ll go in circles.”
“I said right.”
The corridor wound on, turning back on itself in places. Arturus wished he was on the edge of the huddle rather than being stuffed, practically blind, in its middle.
“My torch is low.”
“Mine too,” that was Johnny’s voice.
We’ll have to use two more torches soon.
“Look, a crawlway! It might be our way out.”
“That thing is full of spiders.”
“We are not going in there.”
“There has to be a better way,” Aaron said. “Keep going.”
Arturus did his best not to imagine what would happen when the torches went out. They would be trapped in the darkness. Then the spiders would walk all over them. He bit his lip.
This time it hurt.
Be like Galen. Galen’s not afraid of anything.
But his heart wasn’t like Galen’s. His heart was like Rick’s. He wore it on his sleeve sometimes so that Massan could see it. So that Alice knew that he loved her. So that Ellen knew that he didn’t.
They can’t keep coming.
But this was the Carrion and the spiders could keep coming. They could run out of torches and still have miles of silverlegs left to wade through.
“Left or right?”
“Left.”
“Why not right?”
“We’ve already been right.”
“How the fuck can you know?”
“Because there’s God damn burnt spiders to the right. Go left.”
A spider ran across his boot. He didn’t bother to try and get rid of it. It ran off of his foot on its own, scurrying as quickly as it could into the shadows.
It’s not your fault the devil gave you silver legs.
Kyle ran into Arturus from behind, hard, pushing him into Mabe.
“Jesus,” Mabe said, but just kept on walking.
Arturus’ right ear was ringing now, and he couldn’t hear anything from it. For some reason, hearing the rain of needles only on his left side gave him a sense of vertigo.
Don’t you dare fall.
His ear was throbbing.
Kyle was shooting right next to me. And my rifle was on that side, too.
One silverleg in particular caught his eye as it moved across the wall. It was as large as his fist.
The swirl of lights around him added to his sense of vertigo.
Blood was still dripping from Johnny’s hand.
“Right or left?” Someone asked.
“Fuck,” Aaron shouted.
“We haven’t been left,” that voice was Patrick’s.
“That goes back to the original fork and then to the dyitzu,” Galen said.
“Well, that’s the way we have to go.”
“We may not have enough fire.”
“I’m low,” Avery said. “Need another torch.”
“Turn around,” Galen ordered. “To the crawlway.”
Please don’t.
“Agreed,” Aaron shouted. “Turn around.”
Arturus heard another torch come to life.
“Fuck, burnt my finger.”
One extra.
“As fast as you can,” Aaron ordered.
“The spiders.”
“Leave a few!”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
They retreated back through the corridor. Arturus saw the burnt corpses of the silverlegs as they walked over them.
“Straight or left?”
“Straight.”
“Left,” Galen said.
“Left,” Aaron agreed.
“Why the fuck are we going to the crawlway?”
The ringing in Arturus’ ear increased in intensity, making it even more difficult for him to be sure of which one of the hunters was speaking. He tried to stay steady. His world was beginning to spin.
“Because we’ll only need two torches there.” Galen said.
Oh God. In the crawlway I’ll be first.
“My torch is low.”
“We’ve only got one extra.”
“I don’t care, it’s low.”
“Let it burn your God damn hand.”
Arturus saw the crawlway. It was circular and had a slight upslope.
“Turi, you first,” Galen said. “Give him your fresh torch, Avery. Put out the others, except for Wistan’s. Quickly, boy. Wistan you’re last.”
Arturus waved the torch around the lip of the hole. The spiders either popped, consumed by the fire, or fled. He climbed in and moved forward. He could hear the hunters piling in after him.
“Fuck! They’re on me. Turi, be more careful.”
“No time,” Galen said. “Keep going, Turi.”
He crawled as fast as he could. The passage narrowed until, even on his hands and knees, his back touched the ceiling. Some of the spiders seemed not to know which way to run. The ones that popped left their legs behind. Some of the needles rolled down the passage. Some caught in his clothing. He could hear that not all of the hunters had made it into the passage.
Please, no narrower.
Screams echoed up the tunn
el.
“Wistan’s fucked, they’re all over him.”
“Get the torch, Kyle,” Galen shouted.
“I can’t, he’s fucking dying.”
It was Wistan who was screaming.
“Get the torch.”
“I can’t. I’m not getting back out of this tunnel.”
“Grab it with your feet.”
Arturus waved his own torch back and forth frantically, trying to clear the spiders faster. Without a torch in the back the spiders would catch up to him.
“I got it! I fucking got it!”
“Go!”
“They’re on my legs!” Kyle yelled. “They’re all over my legs!”
“Who’s got the spare torch?”
“Wistan did.”
“Fuck.”
“I’ve got one, it’s mostly burnt down.”
“Is that you, Johnny.”
“Yeah.” Johnny sounded like he was pretty near the front.
“Anyone else?”
“Faster, Turi,” Galen said.
Kyle’s screams of pain intensified.
“Keep going, Kyle,” Aaron shouted.
“He’s not moving! Kyle’s not moving!”
“Listen to me, Kyle,” Galen’s voice boomed in the tunnel. “I will carry you to safety, but if you lose that torch, we’ll all die. You get me? I don’t care how much it hurts, you keep crawling.”
Smoke was in Arturus’ eyes. He could barely see enough to make sure to keep the silverlegs away. He felt one as it marched across his head and down his neck. He was initially relieved when it came to his shirt, until he felt it going down his collar. The passage narrowed further, forcing him to crawl from his belly.
What if it gets too tight?
“They’re all over me!”
“I don’t want to die like this.”
“Kyle, you with me?”
“Kyle? Kyle?”
“Kyle?”
“Fuck!” Kyle responded. “I lost the torch.”
“Go back.”
“I won’t go back.”
“Now!”
“I can’t feel my legs.”
“Get him Johnny’s torch.”
“Johnny, pass it back!” Aaron shouted above the din.
Arturus tried to look back. The afterimage of his own torch blinded him. He could vaguely see the reflected light of Kyle’s abandoned torch along the top of the passageway, but that was all he could make out. He turned back to the spiders.
Please end. Please end.
“It’s only a stub.”
“Kyle doesn’t have a lighter,” Galen shouted. “Mabe’s got to light it.”
“The lighter is in my pack.”
“Faster, Turi,” Galen said.
“Get it out.”
Turi felt the heat of his own torch on his hand. It was almost too much to bear.
“Mine’s low,” his voice sounded high, and he could only hear it in his left ear.
“I’ve got it lit!” Mabe said.
“Pass it back.”
“Kyle?”
“I’m alive. Pass it back.”
Someone screamed, but it sounded too hoarse to be human.
“Fuck.”
“What happened?” Aaron asked.
“Patrick, he got the fire in his face.”
“Get me the torch.”
“Kyle you okay?”
“I’ve got it. I’ve got it.”
“Patrick, move. Move, Patrick.”
“He ain’t breathing right.”
“Patrick, if you don’t move, I will climb over your ass.”
“Grab onto my feet, Patrick. I’ll pull you. Come on, Patrick. Push him, Duncan.”
“Oh fuck! He ain’t right.”
“He breathed some of the fire!”
“What’s going on back there?” Aaron’s voice cracked.
“He ain’t right man. He ain’t breathing right.”
“Keep him calm.” That was Galen’s voice. “Keep him moving.”
The pain in Arturus’ hand was more than he could stand.
“I’m almost out!” Arturus shouted.
“Light your shirt on fire,” Galen ordered.
Arturus pushed his torch ahead. It was little more than a burning stump. He caught sight of his hand. Blisters were bubbling up from blackened skin. He struggled to get his shirt over his head. His sweat made the cloth cling to his body. He pulled as hard as he could, feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder. The shirt ripped. He tossed it over the torch. Everything went dark.
Oh no, I smothered the fire.
The shirt lit, his sweat hissing as the flames spread.
Thank you.
He pushed the burning pile forward with his rifle.
“Your pack too, Turi,” Galen said, “Anything you can burn. Hunters, pass your clothing up front.”
“Good idea,” Aaron shouted.
“Kyle, leave a burning pack behind you. Kyle? Kyle?”
“He’s still moving, but he ain’t talking.”
Arturus felt clothing land on his ankle. He reached back and grabbed it. Another few shirts followed.
His own shirt was burning quickly. He tossed an article of one of the hunter’s clothing forward as his own burnt out.
“This won’t last,” Arturus shouted.
“Turi,” Galen’s voice echoed, “if your light goes out, run as far as you can, as fast as you can.”
Arturus began coughing with every breath. He was crawling over the ashes of burnt clothing, much of it still very hot.
“I don’t want to die like this.”
“Kyle, you alive?”
“He’s fine, keep moving.”
“Fuck what’s that noise?”
“Patrick’s vomiting.”
“Keep going.”
With his shirt gone, the spiders were walking all over his skin. He wasn’t able to tell whether the liquid pouring down his back was sweat or blood.
“I can’t breathe.”
“Light!” Arturus screamed. “There’s light.”
“Move, boy.”
Did I tell them wrong?
He feared it was just the afterimage of the torch, but after a few more feet he knew the light was real. . . but it was also dim.
He ignored the spiders, letting them crawl as they wished, and pushed the flaming clothing through the tunnel as fast as he could.
“Kyle?”
“Patrick ain’t moving.”
“Grab on, Patrick.”
“Push him.”
We’re going to make it.
The dim light grew larger, drawing him forward.
Suddenly he was there, at the end.
“We’re here!” Arturus added another shirt to the burning pile before him and pushed it through the exit.
“Duncan, push him!”
Arturus slipped out from the crawlway. He kicked the burning clothes away from the wall and dropped his pack onto it. The circle of light kept the spiders at bay.
Oh no, my ammo.
The hunters piled out, one by one. They were a bloody mess.
Galen emerged lithely, a flare gun in hand. He discharged round after round into the chamber.
The room was huge. Nearly a hundred yards wide and filled with spiders. The vermin spread away from the flares like ripples in water.
“They thin towards the back wall,” Aaron shouted.
“There’s the exit,” Galen said, pointing.
Galen turned back and helped Patrick out of the tunnel. The man was covered in vomit. Half of his face had been burnt off. He had no hair or eyebrows. Duncan came next, and then Kyle.
Kyle was pale. His legs had been flayed. Galen pulled strips of cloth from his own pack as the light from his flares began dying away, one by one. Some of the strips he added to Arturus’ pile. He used two of them to tourniquet Kyle’s legs, using a rifle barrel and a cleaning rod to twist them tight.
The other hunters added what they could to the fire. Johnny c
ut off his pants and threw them in. The first of the rounds in Arturus’ pack went off. Galen gave him a look as he hoisted Kyle onto his shoulders. He fired off another flare towards the exit. The spiders were waiting at the edge of the light.
“Run for it,” Galen shouted. “Follow the flare’s path, or you’ll die.”
Johnny took two steps and screamed, looking down at his feet.
“Don’t fall,” Aaron shouted. “Run where they’re thinnest!”
Patrick looked unsteady, but he managed to move. His breathing came in gasps. Blood trickled from his mouth.
Arturus began his run towards the exit. Needles began shooting into his feet as he crushed the spiders. Another flare went off over his head.
He felt the pain in his feet more strongly than he had felt anything else in his life. His legs began to wobble, going weak. He felt his body fighting him. It did not want to run. It did not want to let him put any more weight on his legs.
He dared to look behind him. He watched Mabe fall down. The man did not get back up. The spiders covered him over.
Fear pushed Arturus onwards. He looked down, trying to make sure he didn’t stumble. Someone had caught up with him. He couldn’t see who it was out of the corner of his eye. Tears welled up.
I can’t. I can just die. Lay down like Mabe.
He couldn’t breathe. He’d inhaled too much smoke in the tunnel. Hell weighed down on his shoulders.
I’m sorry, I can’t.
He wondered about the next life. It would be terrible, he knew, but at least he would be able to breathe. The needles in his feet became daggers. He couldn’t say how many there were.
He looked to his right. Galen was beside him, running with Kyle on his shoulders. Running with all that extra weight, plus his pack and body armor.
If I fall, he’ll have to carry me.
That seemed horribly unfair. Arturus had never felt pain like this before, and he couldn’t imagine what the needles in Galen’s feet must feel like with the weight of an extra person on his back. Arturus didn’t want to add to Galen’s burden, and somehow that mattered more to him than anything else. He looked up and saw the exit through the light of a dying flare. They ran towards it. The spiders thinned out more.
Arturus made it through the exit. A corridor veered off to the right, and he took it. Odd symbols, looking like moons and stars, had been carved into the side walls. Then he saw a shadow in the darkness before him.
Is that a person?
It was only a boulder, perhaps waist high, with a Star of David carved into it. Beyond it was a dead end.
Even Hell Has Knights (Hellsong) Page 28
