by Chris Ord
Aran stopped and moved behind a tree, raising his hand as the others crept up to his shoulder. Aran lifted his finger to his lips. Each of them surveyed the trees around, looking for any sign of movement. Aran darted out of the woods and past the web, the others followed and moved back under the shade of the trees. They could see deeper into the woods now. There were more webs, a vast complex, an array of shapes and sizes. The webs covered most of the woodland in front, preventing anyone or anything getting through. There were no signs of the creators of the structures. No sights nor sound of the creatures that had spun the menacing display of ominous beauty.
Aran stopped and spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
‘Whatever made these things they’re big. We need to keep moving and keep as close to the edge of the woods as we can. Jack was right about the woods. There are too many dangers in here. What was that? Did you hear it?’
Aran sat upright, all his senses searching the night for a sound, sight, smell. Aran was sure he had heard something. Everyone listened. There it was again, a faint rattle like dried rice being sprinkled on a drum. It stopped, but came again, louder. There was another pause and silence. Gaia looked deep into the woods, as far as the veil of darkness would allow. There was nothing. Something small and bright burned in the blackness of the woods, two small red lights, moving towards them getting larger. They grew alongside each of the rattles, their brightness intensifying.
‘Something’s coming.’
Gaia pointed to the red lights. There was a noise, a cacophany of deafening screeches from above. Gaia looked up and saw the body first, then the long black legs of a spider plunging towards her from a branch above. She reached for her knife, but it was too late. The creature was upon her, wrapping its strong, thick legs around Gaia’s upper body preventing her from moving. The legs were covered in coarse, black hairs that felt like blades against the skin. Pressed in her face, the giant jaws of the creature salivated a treacle of white saliva upon her, as the spider continued to let out its terrifying shriek. Gaia was thrust back onto the ground, the creature still upon her, locked in its death grip. She felt a piercing pain in the throat, as if a hot poker had been plunged into her neck. Burning acid spread through her, and a feeling of nausea. She was dizzy and retched, almost choking on her vomit, as consciousness slipped away. Gaia gripped at images, but they faded, and it was darkness. Everything was gone. There was nothing. No thoughts, no images, no feelings. Nothing.
…………………………………
Gaia’s mind was ablaze with nightmare images. She was in a dark tunnel being pursued by a group of large spiders. There was a light, and a voice calling. The light grew brighter and a figure emerged, just the dark outline. It was a female voice, reaching out to Gaia, begging her to run faster, pleading, getting more and more frantic. The creatures were upon Gaia. The spiders caught her, pouncing one by one, wrapping their legs around her, and injecting their poison. In every nightmare Gaia thought she had made it to the end of the tunnel, to safety, but the creatures always won. As Gaia drifted away the voice was still calling her name.
Gaia awoke. Her head was throbbing with a piercing headache. Her throat felt like it was coated in sand. She tried to swallow, but struggled, went to move her body, but there was no response. Gaia concentrated on her fingers, but could not feel them, tried to move her toes, but again there was nothing. She sat upright, looking forward, and could just make out the trees and bushes of the woods bathed in the silvery blanket of web. It was daylight with shafts of sunlight piercing the gaps in the trees. Gaia’s head was locked and facing forward. There was a sickness in the pit of her stomach. The nightmares had subsided, the memories of what had happened returned. Death was upon her, as Gaia drifted away again.
It was night, and Gaia was cold. Her body was numb with only a faint tingling sensation in her fingers and toes. The throbbing in Gaia’s head had eased, but her vision was blurred and there was still the urge to vomit. Her mouth was dry, like it had been stripped of all its skin. There was a noise and vibrations through the strands of web that bound her. It was the same rattling noise from the night they were attacked. It was quiet, distant, and intermittent at first. The rattle got louder, the vibrations stronger. Gaia sensed something by her side, heard the rattle, then it stopped.
There was a long pause, no sound or movement. Gaia saw it, a huge black monstrous ball of coarse black hairs with bulbous red eyes. The creature’s legs stretched out, straddling Gaia’s helpless body. Its scarlet eyes blazed, the dripping jaws inches from her face. Gaia could smell the spider’s rancid breath, see the thick saliva oozing from its mouth. Its teeth were large, pointed, and menacing. Gaia tried to move her arms, but she was trapped, wrapped in the binding coffin of web. Her veins still oozed with the burning poison that had paralysed her. This was the end, and Gaia was helpless. This was the moment of death, but Gaia felt no fear. Despite the imminent doom there was a strange calm, a resignation towards her fate.
The jaws of the spider moved closer, pressing close to her face. The creature surveyed her, smelling every inch of skin. It was poised, ready to make its move. The spider arched and stiffened. There was a deathly screech as the creature’s body lurched backwards. Someone was upon it, and with a few sweeping movements had driven a blade through its skull and a spear into its writhing torso. The assassin was sitting on the creature, waiting until they were sure it was dead. In the dim light Gaia could not make out the face. They moved forward and into view.
Freya took her knife and cut away the thick strands of web that bound Gaia who flopped forward into her arms. Gaia was limp and could not move her legs, or arms. Freya whispered in Gaia’s ear.
‘Keep quiet. I’m going to get us out of this.’
Freya threw Gaia onto her back and carried her to the edge of the woods away from the maze of spider’s webs. Freya set Gaia down at the base of a tree, wrapping her in a blanket, and placing a cup to Gaia’s lips. The spot was sheltered, concealing Gaia.
‘Here. Drink this. It tastes awful, but it’ll take away the numbness and sickness.’
Gaia drank the concoction as best she could. Her lips were still numb, as the liquid dribbled down her chin. Gaia’s throat raged with every gulp, but she managed to swallow, hoping it would ease the symptoms.
‘I need to go and get the others. Wait here. I’ll be back soon.’
A look of panic swept across Gaia’s face. Freya touched Gaia’s cheek. Freya’s look was warm and reassuring, then she sped into the woods. Gaia lay against the tree, as her body began to shiver, frenzied and uncontrollable. Her teeth were chattering. She was not sure if it was the effects of the potion, or her body feeling cold as the numbness wore off. Despite the discomfort Gaia thought it must be a good sign. The shivering eased and sickness subsided, as Gaia gazed up at the moon. Feeling began to return, though her mind was still fuzzy.
Freya slipped through the trees, alert, looking each way, pausing and listening, seeking out any signs of the spiders. As Freya reached the clearing there was a huge web. The others were wrapped in cocoons, their silvery coffins. Aran’s eyes were closed. Freya crept towards him and cut through the thick strands of webbing. He began to stir as Freya eased him from the cocoon and laid him over her shoulder, her legs buckling under his weight. A few metres away Yann hung, bound in the web. His eyes were flickering, sweat poured from his forehead. Freya carried Aran back through the trees, her movement strong and steady despite the heavy load.
Freya returned and set Aran down beside Gaia, giving him some of the bitter brew. Aran coughed and spluttered, but drank. He looked exhausted, his face an ashen white. Aran was only just conscious, and did not seem aware that Gaia was there, as his head flopped and rested against Gaia’s. Freya darted into the trees again, her steps light and assured. The spiders would be near, and would sense any vibrations.
As Freya reached the clearing a spider was edging its way across the web. The creature was creeping towards Yann whose eyes were now open
his face filled with terror. He was trying to scream, but there was no sound. Freya gripped her knife and waited. The spider edged towards Yann, its huge black legs reaching out towards him. It paused for a moment, to sense vibrations, or look for danger. Freya waited till the spider was just upon Yann, its attention on the prey, then Freya lurched across the clearing and thrust her knife into its head. There was a loud crunch as the knife pierced the thick shell of the creature’s skull. The spider let out a shriek and began to writhe. It lurched back as though to attack, but Freya twisted her knife in a swift movement and jumped back. The spider fell on the floor, its body twitched as dark red blood and the green pulp of its brain seeped from it. The red bulbous eyes dimmed as life disappeared from them. Freya stepped over its dead carcass and cut Yann free, thrusting him on her shoulder and heading into the trees.
Gaia’s head rested against the tree, her mind a mixture of haze and pain. Despite the confusion, there was the warmth of relief. Aran was alive, they had been saved. The seeds of comfort began to trickle through her body and ease the pain. She whispered, her voice frail.
‘Are you OK, Aran?’
‘Gaia? Is that you Gaia?’
‘Yes, it’s me. We’re safe now. Take it easy and try to relax. The potion will kick in soon, and you’ll feel better.’
‘What happened? I just remember…’
Aran began to tremble, his body twisted and head shook, face taut and pained. The shivering faded and stopped, a cold feverish sweat dripped from Aran’s brow. Gaia ached, the whole of her body was throbbing. Freya returned with Yann and laid him beside Aran, tending to Yann with the antidote. Freya took some biscuits from her bag, broke small pieces off and fed them to Gaia and Aran, washing them down with sugar water.
‘We need to get some energy back into you. You’ve had a lot of poison in your system. The stuff I gave you should help. How are you feeling?’
Aran was dazed, and though Gaia was recovering she was still groggy and weak. Gaia spoke, still struggling to force out words.
‘I’ve felt better, but I don’t look as bad as Aran. How did you escape?’
‘I didn’t. The spiders never got me. I managed to slip away when they attacked, and I’ve been watching and waiting for the right moment. Those things are everywhere. The woods are crawling with them.’
‘Are we safe here?’
‘We should be. They don’t stray out of the thicker patches of trees, it leaves them too exposed. We’re all still here. Let’s be thankful for that, though we’ve lost a day.’
Gaia remembered they were being hunted. They were lucky, but the spiders were a distraction. A day was a lot of time to lose. The hunters would not be far.
‘Shouldn’t they have caught up with us by now?’
‘If they’d come north they’d have been onto us. I’m pretty sure of it. I didn’t see anyone pass this way when you were out. Maybe Aran was right and his plan worked. They could be moving along the southern river, or headed straight for the hills. Either way they’re probably ahead of us somewhere, and we need to be watching our fronts and backs.’
Yann began to shiver as the potion took hold. Freya moved to him, holding his hand as he shook. Once the shivering passed Yann tucked into the biscuits and sugar water with the gusto of someone who had not eaten for months, begging for more once they had gone. Gaia and Freya watched as Yann ate. Freya spoke.
‘How you feeling Yann?’
‘Hungry, thirsty, numb, bit of a sore head. Other than that I couldn’t be better. Just glad to be alive.’
Yann laughed, a deep throaty laugh which turned into a coughing fit. He drank some water, as Freya spoke.
‘Take it easy. You need to rest. We all do.’
‘Don’t worry I will. As if I need an invitation to take it easy.’
Freya wrapped the others in an extra layer of blankets and huddled them together. Freya insisted on keeping watch while her three companions got some sleep. In the morning they would need to set off again. It had been a close call, and only thanks to Freya’s courage were they all still alive. Limp, weak and wounded, but alive. Their wounds were minor and the strength would return. Sleep was troubled and filled with nightmares. The visions of terror would continue to plague them for days. Gaia dreamt of Kali. They were both in a damp, musty room with no windows. Gaia sat in a chair, and Kali circled her. Kali was talking, but Gaia could not make out what was being said. Gaia was drowning and Kali’s hand was reaching out to save her. That was all she dreamt, over and over throughout the night.
13
Warm strands of sunbeams stroked Gaia’s cheek as she stirred. It had been a troubled night and Gaia still felt sick and weak. The feeling and movement had returned and her head was no longer throbbing. The misty haze that had clouded her thoughts had lifted. Freya sat cross legged on the ground, wrapped in a blanket, still awake, surveying around them. Freya paid close attention to the brow of the hill, and the woods. Aran and Yann were still sleeping. Both had colour in their cheeks, but Aran seemed troubled. His head would arch and twist as he let out tiny whimpers. Yann looked calm, his breathing the only indication he was still alive. Freya noticed Gaia was awake.
‘How are you feeling this morning?’
‘Still groggy, but much better than yesterday. I didn’t get a chance to say thank you properly last night for what you did.’
‘Don’t worry it was nothing. You would have done the same.’
Gaia felt a twinge of guilt in amongst her gratitude. Would she have done the same? Aran and Yann, yes, but would she have saved Freya, and saved her first? After all those thoughts Gaia had about Freya, all the anger, bitterness and revenge Gaia’s enemy had turned into her saviour. Maybe Gaia was wrong? Freya had proven her loyalty and courage. There could be no question of Freya’s commitment to the group. After a long silence Gaia spoke.
‘I always thought you were Kali’s runner, her spy. I was wrong. I’m sorry.’
Freya smiled, an awkward smile, not wanting to answer, but feeling as though she should.
‘You don’t have to apologise. I don’t blame you. We can’t be sure of anything now. You just have to do what you need to survive. We need to get the others sorted, make some breakfast and make a move. Do you want to see what it feels like when you stand?’
Freya helped Gaia to her feet, walking a few steps arm in arm, Freya taking the weight. Freya stepped away and allowed Gaia to move on her own. Gaia could feel the weakness in her legs, but there was movement, and with each step the numbness from the poison eased and strength returned. The group needed to keep pressing on. The hills were a day or so away, and with luck they could avoid the hunters. Freya was exhausted, the others weakened, but everyone needed to regain strength and sharpness if they were to stand any chance against the hunters.
Freya woke Aran and Yann who ate a light breakfast. The boys struggled to their feet, moving around to shake the last of the poison from their stiff legs. Once packed the group set off, heading along the edge of the woods, following the treeline, wary of entering too far into the thick trees. They were still smarting from the encounter with the spiders, but there was little talk of it on the journey that morning. Each was trying to deal with it, all were thankful and relieved. Jack had been right. Fear the woods. The group had been complacent, too confident in their own strength and abilities, flushed with the arrogance of youth and inexperience. The young led a sheltered life on the island. There was the growing menace of the rats, but the protection of the community and the waters around the island meant the rodents were the only real external threat. Most of the danger on the island came from within.
The mainland was the group’s first taste of freedom, but now they faced many more threats, most unknown. The mainland was vast and open in comparison, the terrain, animals and people were different. The beautiful, barren landscape meant the threats were spread more thinly, the likelihood and frequency less. Even the beauty was a threat. It lured the young into a false sense of comfort and safe
ty. The gentle, rolling hills, and glorious meadows, the lush green quilts of grass and lines of trees had stood for decades, some centuries. The landscape had evolved, the changes subtle, seasonal, across oceans of time. The blanket of green enveloped in the arch of bright blue skies, the brilliance of the sun, and the pure, protective light of the moon.
In beauty there was darkness and terror, and in nature such sublime horror. The world gave birth to this terrible beauty, nurtured it, watched it flourish. Nature was to be admired in all its wonder, but it was also to be feared. The group could not conquer or master their surroundings. Humanity had tried that, and failed, in the days before the poison. Gaia and the others had grown in the confidence of their escape, but also grown in arrogance and folly. The group thought they knew the world, the dangers, but were wrong. Nature had reminded them.
Beneath the naked tranquility and charm of the wilderness there lay a darkness. There were the places the light had been smothered, where the beauty had not touched. There was death and destruction. The creatures waited and would kill without thought or feeling. They killed without remorse. For the creatures it was instinct, the purest instinct, the foundation on which feeling and thought were built, survival. It was all about survival, as without it there was no love or freedom. Without survival there was nothing.
As early evening approached the group reached a bend in the line of trees. The river still lay within the dark core of the woods, with the occasional sound to remind them. A falcon hovered in the sky above, staring down at its prey. The majestic bird dropped like an arrow, plunging towards its unsuspecting victim. The falcon disappeared in the long grass for a moment, and emerged prey locked and wriggling in its talons. The bird flew off into the distance, fading into a tiny dot and vanishing from view.
