by Holly Hook
“Glad you enjoy your dinner,” I say. My stomach growls and I wonder what I'm going to eat in the morning. What can I catch? I've been eating, but not enough. My limbs feel it. I wonder how long it will take before my ribs poke out.
The skittering fades as the remaining Dwellers—the ones who didn't have time to dive into the hole after the stone—turn tail and run. I catch a large, indistinct movement beyond the flames and I avert my gaze. They're not coming in here. They can't get past the blinding light.
And I might even see people tomorrow.
Other people who don't want to kill me. Others in my position. Others who know something about this world and how to get out of it.
That is, if Larconi and Roger don't come this way.
I settle back into the deepest part of the cave. There's another squeal of terror and a crunch. He must have caught one that got into the hole. This is working out great for both me and Pit. He deserves a reward for keeping those things away from me.
He doesn't deserve to have his kind killed.
I lean against the back of the cave and close my eyes.
“Do you want to go see Daddy today?” Mom asks.
I'm nine years old and I've just gotten back from school. Mom stands in the kitchen. The man she's dating now—Garrett—he's not here. She met him right after Daddy had to go to prison. Mom says he has to stay out late for work since he makes a lot of money. I like Garrett, but he's not Daddy. He's nice, but it's not the same. Garrett buys me and Mom lots of cool things and even bought me a new bike for my birthday, but he doesn't go outside and play catch with me. He doesn't have time to do much other than work. I want Daddy here and I want him to be innocent.
My stomach turns. Daddy. Dad. The Daddy who was supposed to have killed that man over in the next town, and I don't even know why.
“I don't know,” I say. I haven't seen him since last year. He left us. He went off and committed a crime and he left us.
“I think you should go and see him,” Mom says. "Garrett thinks it's a bad idea, but he's not here right now. He still loves you, Elaine."
“I don't want to.” I look down the hall in the direction of my room. I can go hide there. I want to yell at Dad and tell him what a loser he is. It's what all the kids in my class say. Dad's a loser. He's evil and I must be just like him. I don't get to play with most of the other kids. They're scared I'm going to come into their houses at night and try to kill them. Only one girl in my class, Talia, will even talk to me. She has mean parents, too.
“I think that you should,” Mom says. She sets down her towel and nods to the car, which is parked in the driveway outside. Dad used to drive it and it's the first time Mom's wanted to use it in a while. “He says that he wants to see you. Don't worry. Your dad would never hurt you or let anyone else hurt you. I don't understand why they say he's the one who broke into that house, either. You know what? He might really be innocent. Sometimes, sweetie, people get accused of crimes that they didn't actually do.” She wipes a tear from her eye. “I think that's what happened with your father. He's not a bad man. I know it."
“I don't believe you,” I say. He's ruined my life. The other kids hate me. "If he's not bad, then why did you divorce him?"
“We are going to go,” she says like she's trying to change the subject. She doesn't believe her own words. She's only trying to make me feel better.
“He ruined our lives!” I shout. “The other kids hate me and I want to go to a new school. They won't leave me alone. They run from me on the playground."
“Those kids don't know better,” Mom says.
“Yes, they do.”
She shakes her head. “Maybe we'll go tomorrow, then. I'll let you think about it for a day or so.”
“I hate the other kids.” As I say that, I know that I'm becoming the way that they say I am. I don't want to be like Dad.
And I go to my room and slam the door. Their words ring in my head. Watch out, it's Killer Klaver! She has a knife!
Arrest her! She needs to go to jail.
They don't make kids go to jail. Just juvie.
Did you see? There's a police care over there, Elaine! You had better watch out!
"Shut up," I shout at them. "Shut UP!"
I wake to a cold nose on my cheek. Light flickers. Stone spreads over my head. I'm in the cave on my back and my head rests on the backpack. It still smells like river. Pit stands over me, nudging my face and urging me to wake.
"Huh?" I ask, blinking the sleep from my eyes.
He whimpers. Nudges me again. How did he get past the fire?
There's another scream echoing through the air. It's as if a train whistle has gone off right above my head. The ground shakes. Whatever creature I've been hearing these past few nights is close.
As in, I might die in a few minutes close.
Pit whimpers again and looks at the entrance to the cave. I follow his gaze and sit up. Sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. My fire's still burning, but it's low, almost down to the embers. I get up and blink the nightmares from my eyes. I rush over and pile more leaves on the dying flames. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let it burn down? I'm so tired from all the walking I'm doing and the lack of food that I can't keep watch to save my life.
The fire rises again, casting the inside of my cave in a bright glow. The shadows dance on the walls again and the words on the stone read Steven was here.
And then I hear the second most haunting sound of my life.
Clicking, as if a thousand bony joints are rubbing against each other. It gets louder. Heavier. I'm hearing what might be hundreds of legs.
“Back,” I whisper to Pit. I push him towards the rear of the cave. He doesn't fight me. Even under his thick fur, I can feel him trembling. He's afraid of whatever's out there. That's a bad sign for me and everything else in the area.
The flames grow higher and I pile on more sticks on for good measure. Higher. They lick at the top of the entrance and spit. A hot ember flies and lands on my sweater. I swat it off. If I get closer to the back with Pit, whatever's out there might not even know I'm in here. Unless it's intelligent and it can kick dirt on the flames or dig down from above. Possibilities spin through me and I bite in a scream. I might not survive this. I don't even know what I'm dealing with.
There's scraping right above us, joining in on the metallic walking sound. Pit whimpers again and shakes. He presses up against me.
I have no words for him.
The scream comes again, so loud that I have to reach up and cover my ears. It's right above us now, maybe even right on the trunk of the giant tree. I unplug my ears and hug Pit close with one hand. We're in this together now. We might die together.
I grab the axe with the other, not sure how much help it will be.
And then something creeps down in front of the cave entrance.
I have to bite in a scream.
It's so much worse than I imagined.
It's a giant centipede. Or at least, something that looks like one. It's so big that its segmented body blocks most of the entrance. Dozens of yellow legs wiggle before its underside as it opens and closes razor sharp jaws. The air in front of it warps with the heat of the fire.
Oh, God, I think. Oh, God. Don't let it eat me. Don't let me die this horrible death.
It descends, reaching for the ground. Green bands pulse on its underside like slime pumping between segments. I'm getting sick. It's like the Dwellers. I avert my gaze. I can't pass out here. Or maybe I should, if it manages to get in and kill me. I don't want to be awake for it. Oh, God...
The creature hits the ground, hiding the green stripes. The fire whooshes. There's a long, tan form right outside the cave, about ten feet long. Two feet wide. It's big enough to eat both me and Pit. No wonder he was whimpering. I'll never look at centipedes the same way again.
“Go away,” I breathe. I'm shaking and I need to go to the bathroom. “Go away.”
It lets out a scream and rears up, facing us. The flame
s bend as if in terror.
“No,” I breathe. I catch another glimpse of its sickening underside.
Pit whimpers. The fire continues to burn. The centipede stands outside like a gigantic mutant cobra as it surveys the fire. Appendages wiggle around its mouth and its sharp jaws click together, anticipating a meal. It's not as light sensitive as the Dwellers are.
It lunges forward.
And rears back, hissing.
The fire's holding it back.
For now.
But the creature is not backing away. It's too hungry. Like me. Too desperate. I keep it in the corner of my vision. I hear nothing else outside but the clicking of its jaws. The Dwellers have been scared away. So has everything else, including any humans out there. I'm alone with Pit and we're going to die.
My pulse screams. I have to do something. If I go feed the fire with more sticks, it might be able to grab me. I'll be close enough. Soon the flames will burn down again. It's waiting for that and then it'll lunge in. Grab us both. Maybe I should look at its stripes and let unconsciousness take me. That would be best. The centipede smells like burning tires and it's making me want to throw up.
Pit growls.
I lift the axe. I have one shot.
I stand, keeping my gaze on the ground for the most part. The centipede hisses again. Yes, it seems to say. Come to me.
I raise the axe as high as I can. The centipede is big. Wide. Maybe I can hit it after all.
I throw it as hard as I can.
The axe spins through the air and I keep looking down. There's a thunk, followed by the splatter of liquid hitting stone. The hiss of some of it landing in the flames. Movement. Falling. The centipede wiggles away from the entrance, flopping on the ground. I dare a peek. The axe's blade is buried in its belly, right inside one of the green stripes. A bright green substance jets out around it, running down its underside and onto the ground. The centipede's legs spasm and curl. The creature rolls in agony. Green slime flies. I've struck it in a vulnerable spot. It's bleeding out.
And then the axe falls out of its body with another thump. The centipede retreats into the forest and vanishes behind the trunk of a giant tree.
There's a rustle and then, nothing.
I sink back against the wall of the cave and slide down.
I heave out a sob.
I could have died. Might have, would have if I hadn't acted sooner. No. Would have.
If I hadn't gotten lucky with that throw.
I can't believe I did it. Shawn would have been proud. Mom and Garrett would have been freaked out. I don't understand how I did it. Maybe Melissa is right. Maybe I am Killer Klaver.
And right now, I'm glad.
Pit licks my hand.
I open my eyes.
Hug him as tight as I can.
* * * * *
I wait for the centipede to return to get revenge.
It never does.
There's silence. A thick, heavy silence.
The light grows and morning approaches. I hear no more screams in the distance, or any close by, for that matter. There's no more skittering. Pit remains at alert and I dare to crawl closer to the entrance of the cave to feed the fire. It rises again and I don't dare let it burn down until the first rays of dawn float through the trees, casting magical pools of light on the grass.
It's safe.
Nothing else seems to be in the area. The screaming centipede must have scared the Dwellers off. It scared Pit and it scared anybody who might be following me. It could be the only reason Larconi and Roger aren't dragging me out of the cave right now. My axe lies on the ground some distance away, dropped by the monster. I have to go and grab it, but is that centipede still out there? If it is, it's in no shape to come after me after losing so much blood. I hope.
I blink and the underside of that creature glares back at me, along with those pulsating green stripes. I'll never unsee that, or the yellow wiggling legs. I feel sick just thinking about it and I don't even want to leave my cave. What if I exit and the centipede is somehow waiting right above us, wanting revenge? But I force myself to step out and over the smoldering fire pit. I look up.
Nothing. The giant tree towers overhead like some protective guardian. I scan the area and look at Pit. “All clear,” I say.
Pit puts his nose to the ground and growls like he hasn't heard me. He looks up and growls again, facing the direction that the centipede went last night. Then I see. There's a disgusting green trail snaking into the trees. The grass has died where the slime has landed. The axe lies right next to it.
I run out and retrieve it. There's a vile green substance on the blade and the burning rubber smell returns. I wipe it off on the grass since I have no water to rinse it with. I need to drink some. And eat. My stomach rumbles and cramps painfully. The berries just aren't doing it. They're more like the topping that should go on a cake.
Cake sounds fantastic.
Anything sounds fantastic. Even the raw fish.
I look in the direction of the trail. We have to check and make sure that thing isn't going to follow us through the canopy. I hear nothing. Birds chirp. Life is daring to return now that the predator is gone.
“Let's follow that,” I say to Pit.
But he's already going. He wags his tail like a dog and follows, sniffing. He's curious at the very least. I follow him, staying well back. If that centipede is still alive and in any decent shape, it could kill us both. Or maybe it's like the Dwellers and it dies if it stays out in the sun for too long. They both seem to be made of the same green, slimy substance, like the evolved together on this world.
Pit looks like a dog, though. Like something from Earth, except for the magenta spots. The rabbit-dogs even have regular blood. Even the giant canopy trees wouldn't look that strange in some tropical place. Have things been coming through gateways here for millennia or even longer?
I can't think about that now. The green slime grows thicker on the ground and the smell, worse. I pull my shirt over my nose.
There.
The centipede rests under a canopy of another giant tree. Green sludge lies everywhere. The smell gets so bad that I have to gag. I approach. It's not moving. The legs are all limp on the grass. The tree turns dark where the green slime touches.
“It's dead, I think,” I say to Pit.
He bounds forward, tail wagging. He knows it already.
I breathe a huge sigh of relief. This thing isn't going to terrorize us anymore. I have never been so relieved to see something dead in my life. Or so glad.
I killed it.
I breathe carefully under my shirt. I can't afford to throw up. Not now that there isn't any water here. I have to keep whatever's in my stomach down. I step closer, axe raised. I swing it down onto the centipede's body. The axe makes an indent, but doesn't break the armor. The centipede is belly down now. There's a hard shell on the top of its body. I only did any damage because I got the axe to land in a soft spot.
I scream and swing again. Pit jumps back, staring at me.
I can't help it. I'm so angry that I want to pulverize this creature. I hate the Flamestone Society and the Dwellers and the nights and the fact that I've still done nothing to save Shawn and Talia and Travis.
The centipede wobbles a bit, but gives me no reaction. It's gone. The birds in the trees chirp as if celebrating this victory. I'm never going to forget this. This thing will give me nightmares for the rest of my life. I feel sick just thinking about last night.
I circle the creature to get a closer look. I wish I hadn't. The thing doesn't even have eyes. Its pinchers are about eight inches long, like a pair of curved knife blades coming out of its mouth. They're a gross yellow red color, the same color as the Dwellers' skin.
I wonder if there's anything useful here. I can't eat any part of this thing. That's clear. Pit might be able to if he likes to eat Dwellers. Already, he's sniffing at the carcass and not passing out from the stench. I look around and don't see any dead Dwellers on the
ground. They've fled the area, but they might be back tonight.
Pit whimpers. He looks up at me.
Feed me, it means.
“You just ate hours ago,” I say. “Look, let's make a deal here. I cut you off some of this delicious...thing...and you go catch me something to eat.”
He looks at me, not comprehending.
I open my mouth and point to it. “Hungry,” I say.
Then he goes into action. Pit bounds away into the trees, not looking back. I glance back at the cave. I can barely see it here, beyond one of the glowberry bushes, but I'm not lost, at least. If Pit does manage to catch something, I can cook it. I just hope he finds me something that isn't made of the green slime. Our ideas of what's good don't match up.
I have to figure out something for him to eat.
I swing my axe down on the centipede's head. One of the pinchers drops off and green slime oozes from its ruined face. Insects are already swarming the carcass. The pincher is very sharp, far sharper than anything I've found here so far, including the flint. It's dry and lying there on the grass.
Maybe it's going to be useful, as much as I hate the thought of picking it up.
But I do. I'm growing less and less grossed out by bugs since I got here. The small ones, at least.
The pincher is light in my hands and the material feels like plaster. I struggle not to drop it in disgust. It's sharp, all right. The point is so fine that I see no grooves or anything. I could make a spear out of this or something. The pincher's hollow. It'll be good to have something besides this axe to hunt with.
I drop my backpack and tuck it in. I still have to feed Pit something. He must have a very fast metabolism.
I go to work hacking at the centipede again. It has tiny cracks in its armor between segments, and I go to work on one. At last, the armor begins to break and green oozes out. There's yellow flesh inside. I open it up, peeling off the piece and breathing through my mouth.
Don't vomit.
Don't puke.
Don't be that girl that got sick at camp, worrying about Mommy and Daddy.
I hear pattering behind me and see that Pit has returned.
