Garden of Spiders Volume 1: A Companion Book to The Fallocaust Series Book 3

by Quil Carter

  Every time one of us thought we’d heard something, our pulses would jump, and then because Nero and I could hear heartbeats, ours would jump as well knowing the other ones were on alert. The next hour, or whatever the amount of time, would be full of anxiety and terror, trying to stifle heavy desperate breathing and whimpers of fear to listen for more noises being carried on the air.

  Eventually, the tense air in the room would settle to the ground like the dust, and we would allow ourselves to fall asleep. We slept a lot down here, it was a break from the hunger pangs and the burning thirst in our throats. A temporary reprieve that sometimes gifted me with good dreams, but even those tasted bitter on my tongue when I awoke with the reminder I was still trapped in this restricting concrete coffin.

  We were safe, for now, but soon dehydration would claim the fools hidden deep within this chasm.

  No one would ever find us. My throat was parched from there being no water here, it was like sandpaper and swallowing was getting to be near impossible. It was painful to even breathe, and my tongue felt lumpy and useless in my mouth.

  The hunger was no better. My brain had eventually become used to the pain in my head, chest, stomach, and arm, and the blood from our injuries had dried, but the hunger was something that time nurtured, not sedated. The longer we were stuck here, the more amplified the pain, and where I sat right now, possibly days after first entering this tomb, it was unbearable.

  And finally, Nero had enough.

  I watched him sit up, weak enough to only be able to raise my head as he tried to stand. “What are you doing?” I rasped. We’d stopped needing to go to the bathroom long ago, he had no reason to stand.

  “I just… saw something…” Nero said. His voice was scratchy from a dry throat and it was full of derision. “Stay down and be quiet.”

  Cristo, whose eyes had been gazing into the darkness, looked towards Nero’s voice. “What is it?” he whispered.

  Nero looked at a metal shelf that lined the wall to the right of us. We’d already inspected it and found nothing that would help us. Only cleaning agents, some rags which we’d already used as makeshift bandages, and metal tools.

  My brother picked something up and sat back down. I looked at him curiously as he brought out an exacto knife.

  I raised an eyebrow when Nero brought the knife to the bite on his arm. From what my night vision could make out, it was clogged with dried blood, the edges of it looking raised which hinted to the beginnings of an infection. I thought he was going to clean the wound, or perhaps he feared pus and wanted to lance it. But to my shock, Nero began to shave the edges of the scab until he’d lifted off a portion of it. Blood rose up like beads of rain on an awning and grew in size, and when Nero ripped up the edge of the scab like he was wrenching open a closed lid, more blood began to gather.

  Nero raised his arm and put it to his mouth, and he held it there.

  I realized what he was doing when his mouth began to flex.

  “Are you drinking your own blood?” I said. I was too tired to feel disgusted by this, I was just confused.

  That confusion quickly turned however. When Nero nodded, I found myself asking: “Is it… an acceptable substitute?”

  Nero shrugged one shoulder and broke the seal on his arm. “It’s nothing I’d bring to a potluck, but it’s making my mouth not feel like the plaguelands. It tastes kinda good too.” He held out his arm to me like he was passing me a cigarette. “Try.”

  I stared at it for a moment, not wanting to do it. But when Nero pulled his arm away, a drip of blood now falling down it, my survival instinct found myself stopping him. I took his arm and held the bleeding wound to my mouth and closed my mouth around it.

  Almost instantly my brain submitted to the taste. It wasn’t that bad… it was… cinnamony, aromatic and coppery. I wasn’t expecting it to taste so good. And it was soothing my burning throat like Nero had said.

  Nero removed his arm from my mouth and handed me the knife. “You have a nasty cut on your own arm. Do it too. You can too, Cristo.”

  Cristo, who had been quiet over this entire thing, lifted his head. “It’ll make you lightheaded,” he rasped. But that was it for his disagreeance. Cristo closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, and said nothing more.

  I was already feeling lightheaded, that and a hundred more symptoms that made me question just how much more of this I’d be able to survive. So I put the knife to the jagged cut on my arm, and like Nero had done, I sliced the scab, and then dug the knife into the wound to increase the flow.

  My arm immediately went to my mouth but my brow furrowed when I didn’t get the same cinnamony warmth from my own blood. I withdrew my arm and looked at Nero. “You take mine. I take yours. I think each other’s blood tastes better.”

  Nero shrugged, and without complaint, we switched arms. He put mine into his mouth and his eyes lit up. “You’re right, it is better!” he said. “Why?”

  I broke my lips away. “I don’t know, but I’ll take it.”

  “This is the strangest conversation I’ve ever overheard from two eight-year-olds,” Cristo mumbled, but we ignored him. Soon we were leaning against each other, my bleeding arm in Nero’s mouth and his in mine.

  It was the first reprieve I’d had since becoming trapped in this place, and though I found it odd, bizarre even, I was in no state to question it. My mouth was wet and my stomach filling with the cinnamony cruor. I still felt like garbage but… it was something.

  The two of us fell asleep with each other’s arms in our mouths and I woke up with a start and felt myself squished beside Nero. I opened my eyes and squinted them, but immediately closed them again when they began to sting.

  Then my nose picked up an odd scent before tickling, I sneezed into my hand, making Nero jump awake beside me.

  I rubbed my nose and looked around confused. It was getting foggy in here.

  Then Nero and I looked at one another, it hitting us at the same time.

  “Fire!” Nero cried. He rose to his feet, standing on his good leg, and opened the door to outside. Immediately a plume of blackened smoke spilled into the utility room we’d been spending days in, quickly filling it with the lung-choking smoke and the sharp smell of burning toxic chemicals.

  Cristo was behind us. He pushed the door open the rest of the way and swore viciously. “Come on,” he said. He picked up Nero and slung him over his shoulder, then he took my hand. “We’ll continue deeper… there has to be an exit somewhere.” He looked around, his eyes seeing nothing, and he clenched my hand. “Look for an exit sign. Anywhere, Elish.” Cristo coughed into his hand, his eyes beginning to tear from the stinging smoke.

  We started sprinting through the underground basement, pipes and machinery, all with peeling paint, surrounding us. We weren’t outrunning the smoke in the least, and soon my own night vision was beginning to fail from the all-consuming smog.

  And my eyes were stinging bad, I could barely see, and I couldn’t breathe at all. Cristo and Nero were coughing behind me, and I could hear Cristo’s breath quicken from anxiety. We wouldn’t have long until I couldn’t see at all, if we didn’t pass out from smoke inhalation first.

  I walked towards the brick wall and put my hand against it. My visibility was shot now and I could no longer see the wall from where I’d been running. I didn’t want to risk running deeper into the mall, I couldn’t lose that wall.

  It was cold, rough against my skin. On the other side of this damn wall was the outside, was fresh air, but it might as well of been in the greyrifts.

  I held onto the wall and led Cristo and Nero. Cristo’s hand was now sweaty in my own, and I could feel his pulse through our joined grips. I kept touching that wall, hoping to feel metal, a door, something, but it was just brick and pipes. Fucking bricks and pipes.

  Then above us was a crack that sent painful vibrations up my legs. I looked up but saw nothing but smoke and the aura of fear that was twice as thick. These noises fuelled my anxiety and
I pulled on Cristo’s hand, dragging him forward and into the thick toxic blanket.

  Only seconds after, another snap, this one immediately followed by thunderous crash that also rocked the floor. I spun around and looked behind me, only to see glowing reds and yellows through the smoke, followed by plumes of grey dust and the terrified shrieks of ravers.

  “Oh fuck!” I cried. Cristo let out a sob and Nero swore. I dragged them away from the burning inferno behind us, only to smash into one of the machines.

  I fell to the ground, stars erupting in front of my vision, and my world swirling around me. It was like I was inside of a Tilt-a-Whirl, going back and forth and side to side.

  Around me, I heard more screams, this followed by a popping.

  Popping like fireworks, chinese crackers. Yes, I was dreaming. I had been dreaming all along. I was… in an amusement park the entire time.

  My lungs spasmed, jolting me back into consciousness. Out of reflex, I took in a gasping breath, but my lungs rejected the toxic smoke immediately and I started gagging, trembling, and gasping.

  Voices surrounded us, and more fireworks. I looked up, and to my shock, I saw shadows. Shadows in black with masks over their faces, guns in their hands, capes… behind them.

  One of them picked me up and ran with me. I couldn’t stop choking and gagging, until the sparkling whites I saw at the edges of my eyes, consumed me and my consciousness.

  When I came to, I tried breathing in but it was blocked, and someone was pressing on my chest over and over too. Right away though, what was blocking my lips pulled away, and I began to cough violently.

  Sun shone all around me as I coughed and coughed, but then it was blocked out as I was picked up by someone and wrapped tightly in their arms.

  I heard sobbing right by my ear. I recognized that crying.

  It was Master Silas.

  Silas pulled away and put a hand to my face. “Are you okay, little love? You’re covered in blood. How badly are you hurt?” He looked behind him and I did too. There were legion vehicles parked everywhere in the parking lot. And in the distance, the mall which was sending black billows of smoke into the grey-blue sky.

  Sitting on the tailgate of a truck I saw Nero with a bottle of water and a Speed bar, and beside him, Dr. Zamir. Nero looked green and sick, his eyes shocked and red from the smoke, but he was nodding and his lips were moving. Nero was okay.

  Somehow knowing that my brother was okay, made my resolve slip away. I threw my arms around Master Silas and held back the tears. Silas couldn’t though, he cried into my shoulder and squeezed me tightly to him.

  “It’s okay, lovely boy. You’re safe now,” Silas whispered to me. “My poor boy, you’ve been through quite the ordeal. Let’s bring you home.” He rose with me in his arms and turned around.

  My heart jumped when I saw Cristo kneeling behind us, three guards surrounding him with assault rifles pointed at his head.

  Cristo had blood pouring down his skull and I could see three fresh gashes. His eye was also black and swelling and his nose was going purple.

  He’d been beaten.

  “Cristo!” I screamed.

  Silas’s hold on me tightened as soon as Cristo’s name left my lips, and I felt the balls of his fingers dig into my back. I should’ve seen that as a warning sign, but I was in too much turmoil seeing Cristo in such a state.

  “Elish… it’s okay,” Cristo rasped. He looked up at me from under a bloodstained brow and attempted to smile. “It’s okay.” My eyes burned as he said this. I knew he was the cause of all of this, but he was still my sengil. He was still my friend.

  Silas’s fingers dug into me until I cried out. I looked at him with a crumpled face, wondering why Silas was hurting me, and when he looked and saw my expression, his grip loosened. The king then turned away from Cristo, and held me to him in a protective way. “Get him out of my sight,” he said.

  I looked over Silas’s shoulder as he took me to where Nero and Zamir were, and I watched helplessly as the legionaries picked up Cristo and walked with him to the truck. Then he disappeared and my still stinging eyes burned from the tears.

  “Help Nero into the Humvee. I need to get them to Skyfall,” Silas said to Zamir. “There’s infection on both of these boys and I don’t like how they’re breathing.”

  Zamir nodded and picked up Nero. He then looked over at me and smiled. “We’re all happy you two are okay. Your brother and sister have been beside themselves with worry.”

  Nero, always the comedian, snorted at this. “They’re going to be pissed their competition is still alive and you know it.”

  Silas laughed. He ran his hand over Nero’s short black hair and smiled at him. “My bellua, I love you so.” He kissed Nero on the forehead. “I’m sorry for what I said to you. We’re going to have a big talk about it when you’re well. I promise.” Nero’s face fell and he nodded, as if remembering why we’d been kidnapped in the first place.

  “Okay, Master Silas,” he said quietly. And we were both taken to a large Humvee painted grey camouflage like the other legion vehicles. Silas placed us one on each side of him, and we rode home with an arm around each of us.

  Nero, even though his voice was weak and scratchy, began telling Silas about what had happened to us with the ravers. I began to listen, but as the Humvee drove on I found myself starting to not feel well. My stomach was hurting, my head pounding, and even though Silas had given me a Speed bar to eat and water as well, I realized I wasn’t hungry.

  And then sparkles of white began to pulse in front of my eyes. I opened my mouth to tell Silas I wasn’t well, but my lips weren’t moving.

  “Elish, love? Want me to open up the energy bar for you? We can have a…” Silas’s voice trailed. “Elish?” A hand grasped my chin and it was raised, but by now everything was beginning to spin around.

  “Elish?” Silas’s voice rose to a panicked level. “Drive faster. Drive faster! Something’s wrong with him!”

  The white lights were soon all I could see. They were sparkling stars in a darkened sky, so many… I could no longer count them. It was as if a great god was dimming down the very world that surrounded me.

  The last thing I was aware of, was throwing up, and the last thing I saw, was that it was made up of bile… and blood. Lots of blood.

  And soon my entire world became dark.

  I woke up to beeping machines and a body that was slowly breathing next to mine. At first, I was sure that this was my dream, and the darkness I’d been in a reality I was briefly trying to escape. I’d spent so long trying to push myself from that terrifying nightmare that had been that mall, I didn’t believe, couldn’t believe, that I would be warm in a bright clean room. It was the complete opposite of what I’d left behind. Warmth instead of cold, clean instead of dirty, bright instead of dark.

  But my throat was still burning. I squinted my eyes and looked around for something to drink.

  I glanced around, and to my left, my eyes fell on a shoulder. I realized Silas was beside me. He was on his side and had a hand on my chest, right near my heart.

  “Silas?” My voice came out as a whine, and because I’d just woken up and was still confused, my eyes burned and that confusion turned into fear and a need for comfort.

  Silas’s eyes opened. When he saw I was awake, he smiled at me.

  “Hey, hunny bunny,” Silas whispered. He looked tired and there were dark circles around his eyes, ones that brought out the gaunt paleness of his face. “How are you feeling?” He looked up at one of the machines, then behind his shoulder at another one. “Your vitals have been improving. We were hoping you’d wake up today.”

  My face crumpled. I wasn’t feeling well at all. But the thirst was what was bothering me the most. “Water? Please?” I asked.

  Silas nodded and waved someone over. I looked and saw that it was our pediatrician, a man named Dr. Liam. Dr. Liam, who was a short man with black hair and matching black wire glasses, nodding back at Silas and disappeared b
ehind the partition of my hospital room.

  Silas was quiet until I had gotten a cup of water, then he helped me sit up so I could drink it through a straw. I found it difficult to sit up properly, my stomach was incredibly painful.

  But the water helped with my burning throat at least. I drank the entire glass and Silas had to remove the glass from my lips once to remind me to breath. It was the best water that I’d ever tasted and it made my body feel like it had a bit more energy.

  When I was done, I laid back down on the hospital bed, already feeling tired. Silas stroked my hair back. I noticed his eyes rarely left my face.

  “What happened to me?” I asked. I looked around the small hospital room for Nero, assuming he was just as sick as I was. But it was just me in here. We were in Silas’s personal hospital in Alegria, we never went to the public hospital, and besides several more white beds and lots of machinery, it was just me, Silas, and Dr. Liam in this room.

  “You had some internal bleeding we didn’t know about,” Silas said. He kept gently petting my hair back. I wasn’t used to him being so touchy. He used to be when I was little but as I grew up and became an adult he hadn’t done it as much. “And you have a broken arm, and several cracked ribs. Lucky that skull of yours is so thick or that might’ve broken too.” He rubbed my hair.

  I looked down at my arm and saw that I had a blue cast on it now. Then I smiled when I saw that a few people had already signed it.

  Silas caught me reading the inscriptions. “You’ve had quite a number of visitors while you were out. Garrett signed it, and Ellis of course. Nero and I, Zamir and Uzeyer, Zhou. Everyone was worried about you.”

  I looked at my cast and tapped it with my finger. This was the first time I’d ever had a cast, but Nero had broken his arm a few times before and I’d signed his.

  “When can I go home?” I asked. I tried to wiggle out of my covers so I could see the rest of me. I was dressed in my favourite pajamas, the ones with penguins on them, and alligator socks.