Web of Fire Bind-up

by Steve Voake

  And the insects… the insects were really getting to him now. They were starting to occupy all his thoughts.

  A wasp settled on the outside of the window and began to crawl across it. Sam banged on the glass with the back of his hand. ‘Leave me alone!’ he shouted angrily, and the wasp flew away.

  Sam shut his eyes. He felt troubled in a way that he had never experienced before. It was suddenly as though his whole life had been put on hold – as if he was just sitting around, waiting for something to happen. With every day that passed his mood darkened and his sense of foreboding deepened. He passed a hand wearily over his eyes and then glanced at the mosquito drawing on his desk. He would finish it today and then do some more research. There was still so much to find out, so much more to know…

  ‘Sam!’

  It was his dad, calling to him from the kitchen.

  ‘Sam – come down here a minute!’

  Hidden in the shade of the hedgerows, tiny grey shapes began to rise like spectres from the earth, twisting unseen between the blades of grass that grew by the side of the road.

  Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, unnerved by the strange sounds that whispered in the dust.

  The grey shapes came together now and began to merge and flow as one body through the tangled undergrowth – quickly, urgently – like a hungry animal moving in for the kill.

  Sam’s mum sat at the kitchen table in faded blue dungarees and his dad stood behind her, sipping a mug of coffee and looking serious. He gestured towards the chair opposite.

  ‘Sit down for a minute, Sam.’

  Sam sat down, staring intently at a small section of the table. He began polishing it with the tip of his finger.

  ‘Your mother and I are worried about you, Sam.’

  The finger-polishing became more intense.

  ‘I’m fine. Honestly.’

  ‘But you’re not though, love, are you?’ His dad drained his coffee and sat in the empty chair next to Sam. ‘I mean, look at you. You’re always shut away in your room drawing pictures of bugs. And when I spoke to your teacher the other day, she told me you spend all of your break times in the library, looking at insect books.’

  Sam shrugged. ‘So?’

  ‘Look, I know it’s not been easy for you,’ said his mum. She reached out and touched his arm. ‘I know you miss your friends. But things will be OK. Just give it time, that’s all.’

  Sam pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Really, I am.’

  Sam untangled his bike from the rest of the junk in the garage and thought about what his parents had said.

  It was possible that they had a point about the whole insect thing. He had to admit, it was getting a bit weird.

  He needed some time to think.

  Maybe he would just take a ride down to the river for a while and sit quietly in the shade of the willows. Perhaps he would see the kingfishers dart among the trees, watch the sparkle of their blue feathers and hear the splash as they folded their wings and plunged into the silent world beneath the surface.

  And perhaps – in the cool green silence of the woods – he would forget all about wasps and mosquitoes, and about being alone.

  Stepping from the dust of the garage into the morning sunshine, he heard a low, insistent humming sound in the distance.

  It came from the fields beyond the hedge.

  As he turned to look, the humming became almost deafening and then a furious yellow and black cloud of wasps suddenly plunged over the hedge and fanned out as if frantically searching for something. He instinctively ducked and fell to the floor, waving his hands in blind panic as the wasps swarmed wildly around him, but as quickly as they had arrived they were gone again, spreading out above the house before fading like smoke into the blue sky.

  Breathing heavily, Sam got shakily to his feet and watched in amazement as the buzzing maelstrom of insects dispersed. Four wasps continued to hover several metres above his head, but Sam was too intent on the main group to notice them.

  For some reason he felt strangely exhilarated, as though he had scratched the surface of the world and caught a brief glimpse of something beneath it.

  He would follow the insects; find out what was going on.

  Without another thought he climbed onto his bike and pedalled off down the drive in the direction of the disappearing swarm. Behind him, his mother called his name, but her voice was lost on the breeze.

  The well-oiled chain slipped smoothly over the cogs and the wind made Sam’s eyes water as he began to pick up speed. Milk-white cow parsley foamed in the hedgerows beneath the blue skies of summer.

  Changing up a gear, his speed increased still further and the wind whipped through his hair. It was almost as though he was flying.

  But then suddenly a tearing, stabbing sensation in his neck made him cry out in shock and bewilderment. As his hand flew up to investigate there was a screech of rubber on tarmac, followed by a sound so loud and furious that it seemed as if the very sky had exploded around him. Pain twisted and burst into a million violent stars. Then the fields and sky whirled and sucked him down into the shadows with a deep and terrible roar.

  Back at the house, Sam’s father heard the sickening crunch of metal and glass. Dropping his coffee cup, he ran desperately towards the road, while behind him his wife’s screams split the air. High above the fields the crows flew noisily from the treetops, croaking and flapping into an empty sky.

  Four

  Much later, after the long and empty silence that followed, something stirred. There was a beating of wings and a sparkle of blue; a feeling of flying instead of falling, and a sudden sweet, warm breath on Sam’s face. He felt as though he was being carried and laid gently to rest in a soft bed where sleep would come once more. But then there was a crack like thunder and with a sickening lurch he was falling again, falling down into the cold and inky blackness that drew him in and enveloped him.

  He awoke to the sound of the wind and the smell of stagnant water. It was night-time, but the landscape was dimly lit by a strange, blue-green light which filtered through the clouds. He could see that he was surrounded by flat marshlands which stretched all the way to the horizon. Pools of leaden water lay in grey pockets and green vapours rose like ghosts from the damp bogs all around, curling up to meet the yellowish mist that hung in heavy clouds above giant reeds. Far away in the distance he could make out the shapes of towers, columns and blocks rising starkly against the skyline. Ribbons of silver lightning ripped through the sky, illuminating the clouds that gathered above the strange city.

  Sam shivered and stared into the gloom. Where am I? he thought fearfully. What is going on?

  The storm strengthened as it swept across the marshes and the bitter wind quickly developed into a howling gale. Sam suddenly found himself caught in a torrential downpour which flung droplets of stinging rain into his face and soaked his mud-spattered clothes.

  Huddled there in the freezing mud he knew that he must find shelter quickly. His teeth chattering, he staggered to his feet and began to stumble and splash across the boggy ground towards the lights of the distant city. Maybe there would be someone there who could tell him where he was. Someone who would help him find his way home.

  Half an hour later, he slipped and fell exhausted into a muddy pool. The city seemed no closer than when he had started out.

  Spitting out a mouthful of foul-tasting water, he raised his head wearily and stared out across the bleak and desolate landscape. It was then that he noticed a single light in the distance, away to his left. It seemed to be getting nearer all the time. Sam gradually became aware of a faint rumbling sound and the ground beneath him began to shake. It was only when he had scrambled to his feet and was running towards the fast approaching light that he realised it was a train.

  Crouching behind a clump of reeds only a few metres from the track, Sam watched as the long silver train pulled smoothly to a halt. The windows were lit from within by a dull orange glow b
ut there were no obvious signs of life on board.

  Shivering with cold, he decided to make his way to the front of the train. He would see if he could find the driver, explain that he was lost and try to get a lift into the city. As he was about to step out from behind the reeds, however, a series of strange thumping sounds from inside the train made him pause. Seconds later, the doors hissed open and to his horror twenty or thirty dark, dog-like shapes leapt from the train and began running across the marshes, snorting and growling as they went.

  Sam immediately felt his muscles tense with fright. Every instinct told him that his life was now in danger. He knew that these strange creatures were searching for something and that, whatever their plans, staying out on the marshes with them was not an option. And so, fuelled by his fear, he took a deep breath, ran from the cover of the reeds and threw himself desperately onto the train. Moments later the doors hissed shut and the train slid away into the darkness.

  As it began to gather speed, Sam breathed a sigh of relief and began cautiously to look around. Orange lights ran the length of the ceiling and merged together at the far end of a tubular steel carriage. Here there was an oval hatch which connected to another carriage and through it he could see many others stretching away into the distance. The right-hand side was divided up into a series of compartments and on the left of the corridor was a long window. Sam struggled to his feet and leant his forehead against the cool glass. Through it he could see constellations of stars scattered randomly across the night sky in patterns he had never seen before.

  Wherever he was, it was a long way from home.

  ‘What is going on?’ he whispered, his voice hesitant like a tiny moth fluttering into the gloom. ‘Where am I?’

  A coldness entered the pit of his stomach, flipping and turning like a dark-green serpent. He suddenly began to feel very scared indeed. ‘Enough,’ he whispered. ‘I want to go home.’

  Shivering, he turned his face away from the window. As he did so, something moved in the shadows further up the train. Sam jumped and his heart began pounding rapidly.

  ‘Who’s there?’ he called out nervously, his voice wavering in the silence.

  There was a pause, and then the very faint sound of laughter from the shadows. It was cruel, cold laughter: the sound of someone enjoying his fear.

  ‘Look, I know you’re there,’ Sam called hesitantly. ‘I just need some help, that’s all. I’m lost and I need to get home.’

  There was no reply. Sam began to walk slowly up the corridor towards the shadows from where the laughter had come.

  ‘Anyone?’ he called. ‘I just want to know where I am, that’s all.’

  Every dark and dusty corner seemed to watch him now. He walked past the sliding metal doors of unlit compartments. They were all open, but his eyes focused on the third one along. It was from here that he thought he had heard the laughter.

  Sam sensed eyes watching him as he made his way fearfully up the long, dark carriage. A shuffling sound behind him made him turn with a start, but there was nothing except the swaying orange lights and the long shadows beneath.

  Reaching the compartment, Sam peered inside and saw, to his utter relief, that it was empty. He leant against the door-frame and let out a sigh. It was just his imagination. The creatures had gone and the train was empty.

  He stepped inside and saw strips of dark, ebony-like wood slotted together to form benches on either side of the compartment. He sat down and leant his head back against the wall. Maybe this was all some horrible dream. Maybe he would just have to go along with it until he woke up.

  Feeling somewhat reassured, Sam looked up at the luggage rack opposite and saw that someone had left something behind. He got up to take a closer look and realised it was a black cloak that had been bundled up and stuffed onto the rack. Thinking that it would help to make him a bit warmer, Sam reached out his hand to pull it down.

  Suddenly, everything seemed to happen at once.

  The moment he touched it, a loud howling filled the compartment and the cloak flew open to reveal a sight which sent Sam reeling backwards in terror. Crouched up on the luggage rack was what at first glance appeared to be a ferocious dog, its fleshy lips drawn back in a snarl as it bared its sharp yellow teeth. Saliva dripped from its mouth and pooled onto the floor below. But as he looked, Sam saw to his horror that the neck and head were human-shaped, the smooth forehead and eyes suggesting a boy of about twelve or thirteen. Below the eyes, however, the nose and chin had elongated and mutated into the jaws of a vicious, snarling dog. The rest of its body was covered with coarse black hair, matted with layers of dirt and grease.

  The creature thrust its snout forward and sniffed at the air, never taking its eyes away from Sam for one moment.

  ‘I smell you,’ it said.

  It licked its lips, raised its claw-like hands and growled. Sam just had time to register the broken talons and mangy fur sprouting from cracked, leathery skin before it launched itself at him with a vicious screech.

  Instinctively, Sam stepped sideways and the creature slammed into the wall. With a bellow of rage it sprang backwards onto the floor, shook its head and turned to face Sam again. It laughed, an evil laugh, and began snapping its jaws together.

  ‘I bite you now,’ it said. Then it began to edge its way across the compartment towards him. ‘Bite you. Bite you!’

  It made a sudden lunge for his leg but Sam managed to pull away and its teeth cracked together with such force that a string of spittle flew from the corner of its mouth. As it growled angrily, Sam saw his chance and kicked the creature as hard as he could under the chin.

  ‘Bite that!’ he shouted.

  There was a yelp as Sam slammed the compartment door shut behind him and ran up the corridor as fast as his legs would carry him.

  The door slid open again and he heard the sound of claws scrabbling over metal as the creature raced after him, panting heavily. Then, to his horror, Sam saw the shapes of more snarling dog-creatures emerging from compartments further up the train. They turned to face him and began to gather together across the width of the corridor, cutting off his only escape route.

  Sam stopped, realising that he was trapped. He glanced over his shoulder to see his pursuer running at full pelt, grunting as its short, stubby legs pumped up and down. The other creatures now began to approach at speed from the opposite direction, snorting and shrieking their way down the corridor like a pack of blood-crazed hyenas.

  I’m going to die, thought Sam. He felt more frightened than he had ever felt in his life. They’re going to rip me apart.

  Sick with fear, he pulled frantically at the door of the compartment next to him, but it wouldn’t open. Seeing his attackers closing in, he took a step backwards and with a strength born out of sheer terror, punched his fist hard through the window of the compartment door. The skin on his knuckles shredded as the glass shattered, but he felt nothing. Reaching through blood-streaked glass, he snatched at the handle on the inside and turned, but it wouldn’t move. Crying out in fear and frustration, he turned just as the first dog launched itself at him with a howl and sank its teeth into his shoulder.

  The pain was indescribable. Sam’s piercing scream momentarily stopped the other animals in their tracks. They paused and crouched lower as Sam staggered backwards under the weight of his attacker. Then they began to approach again, snarling softly with their yellow eyes unblinking and their ears flat against the sides of their heads.

  The first dog unclamped its teeth and dropped to the ground as Sam fell against the compartment door, clutching at the agonising wound on his shoulder. The dog grinned and stared at him, licking its bloodstained lips.

  ‘Mmmm!’ it breathed in a low, husky voice. ‘Oh, mmmm!’

  The other dogs began to encircle him now, a low growling in their throats. One of them began to sniff and lick at his ankle, but a warning bark from Sam’s attacker made it retreat again.

  The first dog looked at Sam. ‘Boy scared?’ it as
ked.

  Sam pressed back against the carriage door and gritted his teeth. ‘Get away from me!’ he hissed.

  The dog-child stared at him for a moment, then drew back its lips in a grotesque smile. ‘We bite you now,’ it said. It nodded and ground its teeth together. ‘We hurt you lots.’

  Sam watched in horror as the creature moved towards him again, its eyes glazed over with the madness of bloodlust. He knew that there was no one here to help him now. No one to save him but himself. And so, as the snarling animal launched itself at him with a howl of fury, he ducked neatly sideways and it flew past his shoulder, smashing headfirst into the broken window.

  There was a loud squeal and then all hell broke loose. The animal fell shrieking backwards and to Sam’s amazement the other creatures leapt upon it with demented howls, tearing at its flesh with their razor-sharp teeth. They seemed to sense the injured animal’s sudden weakness and the smell of blood sparked them off into a feeding frenzy. For a brief moment, Sam was forgotten. Sensing his opportunity, he turned and ran for his life.

  His breath came in desperate gasps as he tried to put some distance between himself and his attackers. His whole body ached but he knew he had to keep going; he wouldn’t have the strength to fight them off if he were cornered a second time.

  He looked around for any possible hiding places and then a terrible realisation began to dawn on him as he saw what he should have known all along. The train, although incredibly long, was not of infinite length. Ahead of him was a solid steel wall.

  There was nowhere else to run.

  Reaching the end of the carriage, he fell gasping against the cold metal wall and slid down into a sitting position, facing back the way he had come. He felt utterly wretched. The dark shapes were gathering again, advancing towards him. But this time they were in no hurry: they knew they had him trapped.