by GARY DARBY
His shock and grief had turned almost to rage, and his voice all but gurgled as he said, “I’m not going to be like—like . . .”
Alena grabbed his arm and stepped close to him. The stark light from his vest lights illuminated her contorted features and the two locked eyes.
Her narrow, hard eyes bored into his as if she were somehow trying to see inside his mind, see his thoughts, understand what he had started to say but never finished.
They stood staring at each other, their hard breaths echoing in the chamber before Dason saw her countenance soften and an expression of doubt and confusion crossed her face.
She shook her head as if trying to rid herself of the uncertainty just as the sudden hissing of a nearby croc-lizard broke the spell.
They both turned to see a croc-lizard latch onto a nearby paralyzed beast and start to tear at its flesh. “Dason,” Alena implored, “think. That pit is so deep that neither of us heard bodies hit. That means you don’t have enough rope.”
Struggling with her words, Alena said, “Sometimes, when you’ve done all you can, you have to let go—you have to leave.”
Motioning toward the grisly scene of cannibalism, she implored, “That time is now.”
Dason tried to collect his jumbled thoughts, tried to think through the problem. His mind, his emotions were numb as if he were no longer alive and had died at the bottom of the pit, too.
He couldn’t think, or feel. He didn’t want to think, more so, he didn’t want to feel, ever again.
Shanon was gone, what else mattered anymore? Star Scouts? Alpha Prime? Even finding out what truly happened on Veni to his father?
None of that came close to the one thing that he cared about—cared for.
He started to slump down as if his life force had suddenly drained from his body. “You go on,” he murmured. “I’m staying here.”
Alena reached out, grabbed him by his vest and furiously pulled him to his feet. “Listen to me, scout. Shanon would want you to live, not to give up or—”
Enraged that Alena, sniveling, whining Alena would talk about Shanon, he wrestled out of her grasp. “Don’t you talk about her! You don’t know anything about her!”
He stopped, stunned to see tears streaking Alena’s cheeks. “But I do know about her, Dason,” Alena protested, her voice choked with emotion. “She’s just the sort of person I always wanted to be but wouldn’t let myself.
“No, Dason, you’re wrong. I know who and what she is, someone of principle and honor. A wonderful, caring friend and a great scout who cherished the oath and her team.”
She stepped closer, her eyes locked on his. “And I know with all my heart Dason, that if she were here, she’d say the exact same thing to you. Live and don’t give up!”
Dason could feel the tears stinging his eyes. Knowing that she was right, a small, piteous “No . . .” escaped his lips and he bowed his head, letting his grief take him.
He stayed that way for just a bit before he heard Alena plead, “Dason, we’ve got to go.”
Taking in a shuddering breath, he nodded, knowing that there was nothing more he could do, not now, not ever for Shanon or his team.
They had to go.
He had to leave Shanon behind forever.
With a last look at the black pit while his heart ripped, tore at him, Dason turned away, saying goodbye to his teammates—his friends.
The two stepped toward the rock portal while Dason flashed his light into the dark passage. Either croc-lizards lay in a stupor, or their pack-mates were methodically ripping them apart and devouring fleshy pieces of their bodies.
Surveying the gruesome scene and concentrating on what lay before them and not behind, Dason whispered, “Stay close, I think if we get past that far curve, we’re in the clear.”
“Sprint?” Alena whispered back.
For a second Dason considered her comment. Logic said yes, instinct said no. He shook his head. “No. Go slow. I think rapid movement agitates them so take it nice and easy. Watch where you put your feet.”
“Not to worry about that,” Alena muttered.
With his back to the wall, Dason set his first step, then his next. Alena stayed close to his side, matching his pace and moving when he moved.
Like the sound of ripping cloth, the croc-snakes tore the flesh off the dead and stunned while the snapping of bones were like miniature firecrackers going off in the tunnel.
Hissing, one of the lizardlike things began sliding toward them. “Alena! To your left!” Catching the beast’s movement, Alena lunged out with a quick thrust of her knife to dispatch the thing, leaving it to twist in its death throes.
The large mass of creatures, feeding on their dazed brothers, blocked Dason’s and Alena’s way. Dason pulled Alena behind him and squeezed both of them against the wall.
With slow, careful steps, they crept by the feasting beasts. Several croc-lizards snapped at them but didn’t attack, preferring instead to feed on their still-living but helpless cousins.
The ordeal seemed endless but a few minutes later Dason and Alena slipped around the tunnel’s curve. Dason was right. None of the nightmare creatures lay beyond this point.
Standing in the juncture, Alena whispered, “Right or left?”
Muttering low, Dason said, “If we go right—that’s the direction these things came from; left leads to where we smelled something dead.”
Alena shook her head, saying, “Right now, I’d rather take my chances on the unknown. I vote left.”
“Okay,” Dason said without much conviction, “left it is.”
In a half-lope, they trotted through the twisting channel. At times, the pungent odor wafted through the passage but not as strong as before, which gave the two hope that whatever lay ahead was not as bad as they had first imagined.
They rounded a sharp corner and Dason almost let out a yelp. Just ahead, a dim gray light cast a subdued glow into the fissure like tunnel. The two ran toward the light. He and Alena burst through the hole and stopped dead in their tracks.
They were in a large chamber. To the front was a pit, its bottom some five meters below their feet. To their right, sunlight poured in through a large, jagged crack in the chamber’s side.
They could see several tree limbs swaying in the outside air just above the opening. However, what riveted their attention was the hundreds of gelatinous creatures that lay at the cavity’s bottom and partway up the sides.
“They look just like—” Alena started.
“The jelly creatures we found topside,” Dason finished. “Exact duplicates of the creature that Sami found on the dead animal, dissolving its flesh.”
He let out a long breath. “We walked right into their burrow.”
“Terrific,” she muttered while glancing around. “See a way out?”
Dason motioned to a narrow, uneven ledge that rounded the chamber. “Maybe. Think we can negotiate that?”
Eyeing what Dason pointed to, Alena shook her head and replied in a skeptical tone, “That’s pretty tight even for someone with small feet—like me.”
She looked down at Dason’s feet. “Think you can walk on your toes ballerina style?”
Dason let his eyes wander around the hollow before asking Alena, “You see anything better?”
Alena inhaled and let out a long, sighing breath after surveying the cave. “No, I guess not.”
Turning to her, he said, “We could go back, take a chance on another way out.”
Alena shook her head and answered in a strong voice, “No. We don’t know how many more of those slithering meat-eaters are holed up down here.”
She scanned the undulating mass of creatures while saying, “Not that falling in the middle of that would be any better.”
Dason eased over to the ledge pathway. After a quick examination of the stone, he said, “I think that if we rope ourselves together and take it slow and easy, we can do this.
“I’ll lead. Backs to the wall, short steps and stay two or t
hree meters apart so that we don’t put a lot of weight on one spot.”
Dason undid his throw line before saying, “If one of us slips, the other will anchor.”
He tied the two together at the waist and then slipped off his neo-gloves and handed them to Alena. “You’ll need these to hold the line—if I slip.”
She shook her head and asked, “Don’t you have a spare set?”
He grunted. “These are my spares.”
“And what if I slip?” she asked.
“You weigh a lot less than I do. I should be able to hold you.”
He tied the last knot and asked, “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she answered.
Dason tested the small sill with one foot and finding it firm, stepped up, placing his feet at a sharp angle on the ledge. He sidestepped for several paces using his outstretched hands and arms to balance against the wall.
“Okay,” he said to Alena, “climb. It seems to be holding.”
She nodded and placed one foot on the lip, and then the other while putting her back to the wall. Taking little footsteps, the two crept along the ledge toward the opening. Below them, the mass of jellylike creatures pulsated in tiny rolling waves.
A few meters ahead, Dason spied one of the organisms lying on the shelf. Step by cautious, careful step the two scooted forward.
Dason came to the thing lying on the little projection. In a delicate balancing act, with one hand outstretched against the wall for support, Dason eased down and with his outstretched knife flung the creature into the pit.
He began to slide back up when without warning, the ledge crumbled under Alena. With a cry, she fell toward the death pit.
Grabbing the rope, Dason held on with all of his might. His hands burned from the rope sliding through them before he could arrest her fall.
Alena came to a stop, but the line whirled her around and she arched inward toward where several organisms matted the sidewall. She flung out her legs. With a thud, her feet hit the wall between several pulsating creatures.
“Climb!” Dason shouted, and pulled hard on the rope.
With her breath coming hard and fast from effort and fear, Alena pulled herself up the wall. Several times, she slipped and almost landed on a creature but with an outthrust of her foot, stopped just in time.
Below her, perhaps disturbed by Alena’s frantic movements or the falling rocks, the whole mass of things started to move sluggishly toward the lighted opening.
With sharp grunts, Dason pulled Alena higher up the wall, even as the rope tore into the flesh of his hands. Alena came closer and closer to the outcropping.
When she was just below the lip, Dason gasped, “Come all the way to the end of the line against me. You’ll never get back on the ledge if you don’t.”
Dason braced himself and bent his back as much as he could to give Alena leverage. Seconds later, Alena pulled herself tight against Dason while she scrabbled for a toehold on the shelf.
Letting go of the rope, Dason held onto her in a fierce hold. Sliding away from Dason, she set one foot down on the small shelf and then the other.
With deep breaths, Alena put her forehead against the wall and stretched out both arms as if to hug the rock front.
For several seconds, neither said anything while both sucked in air. Alena muttered a weak, “Thanks.”
Breathing hard, Dason nodded and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
With Alena now in the lead, they moved toward the opening. They had gone a few steps when Dason said to Alena, “Can you move any faster?”
“I can, but you told me to go slow.”
“Forget what I said,” Dason replied, aware that with her back turned Alena couldn’t see the moving mass of creatures making their way toward their only exit.
“If we don’t hurry, we’re going to get cut off. Those things are moving upward toward the hole.”
Hearing that, Alena started taking bigger, though precarious steps on the thin shelving.
It was now a race to the outlet.
With hurried steps, the two moved faster until they reached the slanted rock-fall that led up to the lighted breach.
Just below, the first finger of the gelatinous mass spilled over the rocks and moved upward. The closer they got to the sunlight, the faster the jellyfish creatures migrated.
With the things just mere meters below their feet, Dason pushed Alena out onto the rocks and urged her to climb. He followed her out onto the slide and found the small rocks loose, almost gravel-like.
Both had made it almost halfway up the incline when the rock fragments gave way in a small landslide. “Stop!” Dason yelled to Alena. “This stuff is too loose, if we keep going, it’s going to give way, dump us into those things.”
Alena glanced over her shoulder and said, “We can’t go back; they’ve covered the ledge and the wall, too.”
“I know,” Dason replied in somber tones.
Alena turned to him with wide eyes. “There’s no other way out.”
Dason nodded. “I know that, too.”
Alena lifted a foot up and tried to put her weight down in a small step. She yelped when she started sliding backward. Dason reached out and held onto her before she slid too far.
She glanced up at Dason, her breathing coming fast and hard. “Sorry, that didn’t work so well.”
Dason peered up at the bright hole only a few meters away. He could make out a small log that jutted out over the cleft.
“Alena,” he said, “undo the climbing line from around your waist.”
With quick motions, Dason and Alena untied the rope from around their torsos. Dason collected the line and pulled a small climbing hook out of his waist pack. He snapped open its prongs and threaded the line through the self-loop device at the hook’s base.
He swung the hook and line around his head and then threw it upward at the tree trunk. The prong slid over the downed limb, and then fell off the end.
Dason reeled the line back in while Alena squatted down so that Dason could have an unimpeded swing.
He twirled the hook faster and faster over his head and in an arcing motion, sent it flying into the opening. It sailed over the log and with a hard jerk Dason set the spikes into the wood.
Dason pulled Alena up and wrapped the cord around her waist. Pushing her up the incline, he ordered, “Move.”
“What about you?” she cried.
“That log won’t hold both of us,” Dason said. “When you get to the top, throw me the line, now go.”
Alena looked at Dason, and he saw something in her eyes he hadn’t seen before—a look of almost grudging admiration.
Another surge of the creatures brought a soft slithering sound in the grotto. Dason whirled Alena around and pushed her up the rise.
With a fierce lunge, she grabbed the rope and pulled herself up the rock-fall. Her boots pounded the rockslide and sent a small shower of rocks and pebbles downward to pelt the crawling creatures.
Satisfied that the fallen tree trunk would hold Alena’s weight, Dason turned to look at the things that seemed to be moving toward him in little waves of motion.
Several of them had their tentacles waving in the air almost as if they were aware of Dason’s nearby presence.
With the edge of the mass less than a meter away, Dason attempted to take another step but froze when the gravel under his feet started sliding down toward the undulating creatures.
He licked at his lips and swallowed hard. One more move and there was a chance that the whole section would give way, tumbling him straight into the flesh eaters.
Twisting around, he watched as Alena, with a last effort, pulled herself through the craggy aperture and over the log. She scrambled to her feet, untied the rope from around her waist, and whirled back toward Dason.
Her eyes grew wide before she cried out, “Dason! Behind you!”
Dason whirled and stood transfixed for just a second. The creature’s tentacles were reaching
out to his boots! Without thinking, he started crawling up the scree-covered slope.
His furious efforts caused the whole slope to begin sliding downward. Dason backpedaled against the rush of cascading rocks. Nevertheless, it wasn’t enough.
In an instant, he would slide straight into the waiting mass of flesh-eating creatures.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Star Date: 2443.064
Unnamed planet in the Helix Nebula
Avalanching down, the loose scree rushed toward the gelatinous creatures carrying Dason even while he battled his way up the incline. Alena screamed, “Dason! The rope!”
He wrung his body around to see the very end of his climbing line riding on the rock mass just above his head. With an overhand lunge, he grabbed at the rope. His fingers caught the cord, and he yanked it towards him.
In a frenzied whirling motion, he looped the rope around one wrist and latched onto the rope with his other hand. The line went taut, and he came to an abrupt stop with rocks and gravel pouring past him.
Struggling to his feet against the surging slide, he glanced over his shoulder for just a moment. The rockslide had buried the vanguard of the flesh-eating creatures, but Dason was right on the cusp of falling into a bubble-like mass of the things.
He whipped back around toward the opening. Outlined in the stony aperture’s glow, Alena stood with both hands on the rope, straining with every ounce of her body against the pull of the rocky torrent.
Using Alena like a human anchor, Dason pulled himself up the slope, one step at a time until with one last effort, he heaved himself through the rocky portal.
Alena hadn’t anticipated the sudden release on the line, and she went flailing backward to stumble over a thick, stubby dead branch in an awkward fall.
Before she could catch herself, her head struck the sharp edge of a rock with a noticeable thunk sound.
Dason staggered over to Alena, who had curled up in the fetal position; her arms wrapped around her head, her face contorted in pain. Dason pulled her hands away from her head. “Let me see,” he said.
He brushed her short earth-brown hair back and inspected the wound. “Good sized bump, but no open wound,” he stated.
