As they got closer, they slowed to a jog, exhausted from their mad sprint. The cabin was nestled so tightly among the trees that it seemed like the trunks were sprouting right out of it. A sizeable tree had fallen through the rotting roof, nearly splitting the whole structure in half. The front door hung from the top hinge, half open, and the ferns, moss and brambles waged a three-way war over dominion of the porch, or what was left of it.
“Looks like no one’s been here for years,” said Ram.
Daniel instinctively slowed to a walk as they approached. It could have been anything—a hunter’s shack, a hideout…he didn’t want to get too close and then regret it later. However, with snapjaws in the area and the fact that they’d spent just as much time running as walking since last night, he wouldn’t mind taking this small risk if it meant having a safe place to rest and recollect their bearings. “Let’s go in,” he said, “Just be careful.”
Daniel beat a trail through the tangle of dense underbrush and nudged the door open with his toe. It swung halfway in on screeching hinges before the rotten wood gave way and the whole thing crashed to the cabin floor inside. A cloud of dust billowed from the floorboards like a miniature mushroom cloud.
Behind him, Ram sighed. “Well…surprise! We’re here.”
Daniel ignored the remark. He shouldered his way through the remaining brambles and pushed through the rotting door frame, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve.
The state of the cabin’s interior was as dismal as the exterior. The scarce furnishings—a rickety table, a bed frame with most of the springs missing, and a rusty stove—were coated in dust, and the light that poured in through the gap in the wall, which must have been a window at some point, bathed the cabin’s gutted insides in a grim, ghastly wash.
Daniel stepped gingerly across the floorboards that remained intact. He wrinkled his nose. “You don’t have dust allergies, do you?”
Ram let out a tremendous sneeze. “Nope. You?”
Daniel shook his head. “Let’s look around a bit and see if we can find anything useful. Your supplies won’t last forever.”
There weren’t many places to look. Poking around the loose floorboards, the table, and the furnace revealed nothing of any profit.
Daniel ran his fingers through his hair, giving the desolate place one more walk-through. “Whoever built this must not have…” as he stepped around the woodstove, his voice trailed off.
“What is it?”
Daniel swallowed hard and pointed. In the far corner of the cabin’s only room, beyond the fallen tree, was a hole in the floor, neatly dug—probably a stairwell to a root cellar. Two planks had been hurriedly nailed over the entrance, but what held Daniel’s breath pent up in his chest was the skeletal arm stretching out from the hole, the fingers grasping at emptiness, as if reaching for help that never came.
The place suddenly felt very quiet until Ram let out a low whistle. “What do you suppose…?”
Daniel timidly approached the hole, half expecting something to jump out at him. Sure enough, the window provided just enough light for him to make out a narrow set of crumbling stairs that wound down into the depths of what he assumed was a storage cellar. The rest of the skeleton lay with its feet pointing down the stairs. It looked for all the world like it was still trying to worm its way through the planks nailed over the entrance. Its other hand, pinned against the stairs under the ribcage, held a pistol.
“I don’t know what happened here,” Daniel said, retracing his steps to the far side of the room, “But we shouldn’t stay here any longer than we have to. This gives me the creeps.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Ram, “In fact—”
He was cut off by a sound that made them both jump and whirl around—possibly the last sound Daniel would have expected to hear in this desolate part of the Untamables, and yet a sound that almost seemed fitting, given the circumstances.
A scream.
Chapter Five
Tess Kerrigan rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand as she set out from her command tent at a brisk walk. The sun was nearing its zenith and probed the mountain forest with its warm rays. On any other day, she would have enjoyed the warmth on her skin. But after what had happened last night, she didn’t know if she would be able to enjoy anything at all today.
She wound through the tents, ignoring the questioning looks on nearly every face that glanced her way. The people were confused, no doubt—no explanation had been given to the citizens of Obenon as to what had transpired during the night. She imagined most people could figure out on their own that the Akorites had attacked them again, but they wouldn’t know why. She didn’t either, to be perfectly honest.
Tess shook her head, trying to fling the weariness off of her face. She had softened during her year in Obenon—she knew that, and she was disgusted by the concept. She was a Second Preceptor. She had trained for years to handle situations just like this; now, a mere twenty-four hours of rigorous activity had her feeling like she hadn’t slept in a week.
She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and marched with the confidence that a Preceptor should exert. Word had gotten to her not ten minutes ago that the team from Galaratheas had landed a chopper by the tracks, and she knew who would be heading up the crew—First Preceptor Dom Maravek. She couldn’t afford to show any weakness in his presence.
She left the camp and headed down the hill towards the tracks. Her trajectory inevitably led her past the spot near the tree line where last night’s madness had taken place. Her thin eyebrows curved down as she scowled. The memory darkened her mood even more. No sign of Daniel Black or his burly friend—what was his name? Oh yes, Ramsey—had been seen since that moment. It was safe to assume they were returning to Obenon to find Daniel’s sister, but up until now, she’d been able to spare no time, men, or resources to go after him. She had seen what she had seen, and justice would be dealt, but she would have to deal with that later.
She arrived at the train, where the team from Galaratheas had already gotten to work unloading the necessary machinery to repair the tracks. She counted fifteen men in total, all dressed in the gray hues of the Order of Preceptors. Most of them were fourth or third ranks, but they would get the job done.
“Preceptor Kerrigan?” A deep, energetic voice boomed from the group. A middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed black beard framing a friendly face cut away from the throng of Preceptors and picked his way through the equipment towards her. She recognized him immediately.
She stood straight, but even doing so, he loomed over her as he drew near. “Preceptor Maravek,” she said, shaking his hand, “Thank you for your timely arrival.”
His grasp was firm. “I don’t know if I would call it timely,” he said, chuckling. “Word is you’ve had your fair share of mishaps lately.”
“How detailed of a report have you received from my men?”
Maravek lifted his hands in a half-shrug. “Just the basics. You were ambushed by the Akorites, the tracks have been blown, you’re all stuck here, and last night they attacked again. However, that much was obvious even without the report.”
Tess sighed. “I’d better fill you in, then.”
They returned to Tess’s command tent. The furnishings were simple—a cot, two empty crates placed side by side as a makeshift desk, an oil lamp, a stack of papers, and her personal trunk of belongings from Obenon.
Preceptor Maravek observed the humble setup, unimpressed. “You obviously weren’t expecting to be held up in the mountains.”
Kerrigan stood to the side, offering him a seat on the cot. “Such is the nature of an ambush, sir. Unexpected.” She bit her lower lip, wanting to take the words back.
Maravek merely laughed and dismissed her offer with a wave of his hand. “Fair point.” He folded his arms over his wide chest. “So……fill me in.”
Tess reached for the stack of papers and withdrew a rudimentary map of the area that she had sketched out in pencil the previous day
. The railway split the map in two from north to south, with mountain ridges and peaks on either side. Near the bottom of the map she had indicated the location of Obenon, as well as the tunnel they had collapsed.
“The Akorites ambushed us here,” she made a small circle on the tracks, “and our camp is set up here.” Another mark went where she pointed. “During the first attack, all fire was coming from this mountain—” she jabbed at the mountain directly across the valley from their location, “—and was directed solely at the train, even when the townspeople were safely in the forest. They were after us, not them.”
“Well, it’s not like the Akorites and the Order ever did get along very well,” Maravek said.
Tess continued. “We got lucky.” She traced the map with her fingertip. “We withdrew to the camp, and once we were under the cover of the forest, they ceased fire. Knowing they would return, we set up a perimeter during the night, but somehow they still got close enough for a surprise attack shortly before midnight.”
“And the results of the attack?”
“Only one casualty,” she said, “No injuries. They retreated only minutes after they attacked.”
“The Akorites killed one of your men?”
She hesitated, searching for the right tactic. “Not exactly, sir.”
Maravek raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”
Tess drew in a breath and let it out. “Last night’s attack came from the east—further up the mountain. Yesterday, they attacked from the west.” She referred to her map sketch again. “I sent all of my men to defend the camp on the eastern side except for one. Ider Grasp came with me. I wanted to make sure nothing was coming from the west. We went down to the tree line overlooking the tracks. I sighted through my rifle scope and detected movement on some of the high ridges on that mountain.
“A group of men was moving about, darting in and out of cover. I tried to get them in my sights. I ordered Grasp to return to the eastern perimeter, and the next moment he was dead, right at my feet.”
Maravek shifted his weight. “Who killed him?”
Tess hesitated again. “One of the townspeople; Daniel Black is his name. He fled to the west, though I suspect he may now be following the tracks south, back to Obenon.”
Concern darkened Maravek’s green eyes. Rubbing his thumb up and down his jawline, he went over to the cot and took a seat. He leaned forward on his elbows. “Tell me more about this Daniel Black.”
* * *
Daniel froze, listening. Where had the scream come from?
Ram’s eyes went wide, and his mouth formed a silent o.
A few moments of eerie silence ticked by, and then the forest was rent by a second cry—less of a shrill scream and more of a wail.
Ram cast an apprehensive glance at the bones in the gaping cellar tunnel.
As far as Daniel could tell, the screams had come from the far side of the cabin—further into the forest. He waited, but nothing more was to be heard. Instead, an unnerving quietness settled in like an unwelcomed fog. “Should we go check things out?”
Ram shrugged helplessly. “Running for our lives is another acceptable option.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Come on.”
The two of them ventured back outside, and, once satisfied that the immediate surroundings were not crawling with wild beasts, circled the cabin. It was there that Daniel noticed the cabin had been built at the edge of a glade, where the trees had long since been cleared. Nothing moved. He worked up his courage and called out, “Hello?”
Nothing. Silence.
He advanced some more. Then the voice called out, and Daniel now understood perfectly what it said. “Help me!”
Daniel and Ram made eye contact, and Daniel motioned with his head across the glade to a spot where the ground looked upheaved in the midst of some tall grasses. That’s where the voice was coming from—below ground.
As he approached, knife in hand, he noticed that in the center of the torn up ground was a hole, partly obscured by a layer of dried mud, leaves and grass that looked like it had been broken through. This must be where the screams were coming from—someone must have stepped into the hole, gone through the thin layer of stuff and fallen down into whatever tunnel or cave lay beneath.
Daniel rushed to the hole, but as he did, his foot punched through the ground and he nearly fell into a second hole hidden in front of him. Correcting his downwards motion, he rolled to the side. “What is this place?”
Ram beckoned him to come back. “Not safe, that’s what it is.” His eyes kept darting to the clearing’s edge, as though he expected something to jump out at him at any moment.
On his hands and knees now, Daniel crept to the rim of the first hole and looked down in, but it was too dark for him to see much of anything.
“Hello?”
A sharp gasp echoed up from the depths of the dark pit. “Down here!”
Daniel caught Ram’s attention and pointed. “Come help me.”
He clenched the knife between his teeth and lowered himself down into the hole, feeling around with his feet, searching for a foothold. He found one, and little by little he descended into the darkness below. Ram finally joined him, and steadied his shoulders with his big hands. At the bottom of the steep shaft, six or seven feet down, the ground leveled out most of the way. A rounded tunnel led gently down to a wider section of the cave, and there Daniel saw the source of the screaming—a girl. She was standing flat against the far wall of the cave, not moving. Her pale, dirt-smeared face stared back at him, her wide eyes glinting through tangled knots of equally soiled blond hair.
“Don’t just stand there,” she said, her voice wavering. “Help me out. They’ll come back, and they’ll take me, just like—” she clamped her mouth shut.
Daniel looked around the pit. They were alone. “Why can’t you just climb out? It’s not that hard.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m stuck.” She jostled her shoulders back and forth to emphasize her point.
It wasn’t obvious, but Daniel refrained from saying so. He swept his eyes along the perimeter of the cave. What was it, anyways? “Stuck on what?”
The girl let out an aggravated huff. “Do I have to spell everything out for you? Notice the webs.”
Daniel stepped closer, and as his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness he saw what she was talking about. Her right forearm, left wrist and hand and both her shins were coated with a grey, web-like substance that held her glued to the cavern wall.
Daniel reached out his hand towards one of her wrists, intending to try and pry the stuff off. She bristled and struggled. “Don’t touch it,” she hissed.
Daniel stopped, surprised.
The girl glared at him. “Don’t touch it,” she said again. “If you get stuck with me, we’re both dead.”
Daniel backed off. “What happened to you?”
After a pause, she said, “I fell through the ground into this tunnel—this nest.”
“Nest?”
“Did you come here blindfolded, or what? It’s a snapjaw nest.”
That’s when it all made sense. Whoever built that cabin hadn’t realized the clearing was inhabited already, and the cellar tunnel must have tapped into one of the nests. That explained the sealed off opening and the skeleton. He cringed at the thought.
“What do you think it’s going to do with you when it comes back?” Daniel asked.
“That’s a cheery question,” the girl answered, her voice full of sarcasm. She jostled her shoulders again. The webs wouldn’t yield. “Do something.”
Daniel raised his knife, and when she saw, it, her whole body stiffened. Her eyes narrowed. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Try and cut you free.” Why was she so paranoid? He gently slid the tip of the knife into the goo holding her right arm against the stone, placing it close to the rock wall so as to avoid slicing her wrist by accident. The mass stuck to the blade, so it was hard to cut through it. He needed a better angle to cut from. He
took a step closer.
The girl went rigid. “Get away from me.” Her eyes were fiery and hard.
Before he could even decide how to answer, Ram thudded to the floor of the nest behind him. He blinked in surprise when he saw the girl, but went straight to Daniel. “You’re not going to like what’s going on upstairs.” He gestured towards the outside with his thumb.
Daniel clambered to the lip of the tunnel and peered out through the tall grass.
A crunching, wet slurping drew his attention to the left, followed by soft trilling call and wheezing. No more than ten feet away, a snapjaw feasted on the remains of some unfortunate forest animal—a deer, by the looks of it. The mountain insect ripped out a strip of bloody muscle, and swallowed it whole, making a gurgling noise in its throat. Two more identical creatures rose from the other side of the horse’s body, their beaks equally bloodied.
The snapjaws began to compete over a section of the deer’s hindquarters. Daniel watched on, fascinated, as they faced off and lunged at each other with their horns down. The wheezing turned into shrill whistling, and the insects became more and more aggressive. Then one of them stopped and bent low. Two narrow slits positioned just above its beak widened, and out of them shot two globs of gray goo, just like the substance that held Kora trapped. It looked like a calculated sneeze. The goo splattered into one of the large eyes of the opponent, which reared up on two legs and clawed at its face.
Just as he was about to duck back into the empty nest, another of the creatures broke through the dirt nearby. It clawed its way out and shook loose clods of dirt off itself. Then another one broke the surface a ways away, and then two more, until four of them were skittering to and fro in the clearing. Daniel’s eyebrows drew together. This wasn’t just one nest. It was a whole colony of snapjaws.
They were trapped between the two groups of these giant insects, although, so far, neither were aware of his presence. Since he was much closer to these than he had been to the others, and they still didn’t detect him, he concluded that they operated more by sight then by smell.
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