A World Without Heroes Page 13

  “I jumped off a cliff to escape a dog?” Rachel asked bitterly.

  “Take another look at the dog,” Jugard invited. “If it had your scent, you made the right choice.”

  “We have a conscriptor trailing us?” Jason asked.

  Jugard shrugged his bony shoulders. “Possibly not. That may be why he sent the animal. Out in the open this crazed boarhound could have finished both of you.”

  Jason stared down at the snarling canine, impressed by the rippling muscles under the short-haired pelt. The black gaping mouth held vicious teeth.

  “What do we do now?” Rachel asked.

  For the first time Jugard smiled. “The Hand of Providence accompanies you. This potential threat may represent your salvation.”

  “How?” Jason asked.

  “Bait.”

  “What do you mean?” Rachel asked.

  “Macroid is attracted to fresh blood like nothing else. Twice I have cut myself accidentally. Both times the crab rushed to the cleft, reaching madly, beating and snipping at the very stone of the cave. The futility of her efforts did not daunt her. She did not desist for hours after the wound was dressed.”

  Jason shuddered.

  “Noting the thirst for blood, I tried cutting myself once immediately after a man dashed for the ascender. The crab hesitated, but went for the man. Had I been within her reach, however, I have no doubt the crab would have attacked me first.”

  “Macroid is a crab?” Rachel asked.

  Jason described the colossal crab in the neighboring cavern, explaining how it currently impeded their way to the top of the cliff. Rachel turned to Jugard. “So you think if we wound the dog, and it chases us into Macroid’s cavern, the crab will attack the dog, leaving us time to escape.”

  “That is your best chance. It will require perfect timing. No blood must be drawn until after you are in Macroid’s chamber. Otherwise she will block the cleft, and you will find yourselves trapped between crab and boarhound.”

  Jason ran a nervous hand through his damp hair. He looked down at the ferocious dog, saddened by the thought of the crab destroying it. “If Puggles follows too far behind, the crab will mutilate us before the dog enters the room.”

  Jugard rubbed his palms together. “She may mutilate you regardless. But good timing should improve your chances.”

  “How do we get the timing right?” Rachel wondered.

  Jugard turned his back on them, hands on his hips. He grabbed a wooden spear with a sharp stone tip from against the wall. “I will wound the boarhound once you are through the cleft, then turn it loose.”

  “How can we restrain the dog?” Jason asked.

  First propping the spear against the wall, Jugard gathered up a coiled rope of amber seaweed. He fashioned a knotted loop at one end. “Here is my leash.” After examining the length, he secured the other end around a stone protuberance.

  They peered over the ledge. Puggles continued to rage up at them, twisting and leaping and scraping its claws against the stone below the shelf. Jugard dangled the loop, slipped it around the dog’s thick neck on the first try, and jerked it snug. The dog continued bounding at them, heedless of the rubbery noose.

  “I left enough slack for the dog to get close to the cleft. You two will go to the end of the ledge, over by the cleft, and drop down. I will come up behind the dog, slash its hindquarters, and sever the restraining line. The animal should pay me no mind. As the conscriptor desired, it will be fixated on you two. Let me figure out the timing. At my signal your duty is to run as fast as you are able. Don’t hesitate. Macroid may be sufficiently quick to get all of you.”

  Jason could feel his heart hammering.

  Jugard squeezed a strand of blue-glowing seaweed and fastened it around Jason’s wrist. “You remember what I told you concerning the Word.”

  Jason recited all Jugard had told him. Rachel listened with wide eyes.

  “Very well,” Jugard said. “Ready?”

  “Now?” Rachel asked.

  “Is the crab underwater again?” Jason asked.

  Jugard nodded. “Macroid is too bulky to stay out of the water long. I would stake your life on it.”

  Jason managed a feeble smile.

  “Take heart,” Jugard said. “You have a real chance. Get into position.”

  Jason and Rachel walked along the length of the ledge until they reached the wall with the crack in it. Puggles moved with them along the base of the shelf until restrained by the seaweed leash. Jugard skillfully descended the ledge behind the dog, spear in one hand, stone knife in the other. The dog didn’t even glance at him.

  The cleft in the wall was about fifteen feet beyond the base of the ledge. Jason turned around, dangled from the shelf, then dropped to the cavern floor. The boarhound snarled in ferocious frustration, testing the elastic limits of the seaweed rope. The effort only tightened the noose, strangling the dog’s growls.

  Jason could not help feeling like this was happening too quickly. He wished he had more time to get used to the plan. After all, the crab was huge, and it had killed before! Rachel dangled from the ledge, and Jason placed his hands on her slender waist, helping her land lightly. The enraged boarhound retreated a few paces, then rushed forward, stretching the restraint enough to get frighteningly close as Jason and Rachel edged toward the crack. When the dog lost momentum, the seaweed recoiled, dragging the boarhound end over end like a spasmodic fish on a line.

  Jason stood at the cleft, trying to prepare his mind. “Wait,” Jugard called. “The boarhound is strangling.”

  Sure enough, the beefy dog had not regained its feet. It thrashed on its back, emitting choked snorts.

  “I will sever the rope at the neck, slashing the dog with the same motion. When I spring forward, you run.”

  “Ladies first,” Jason murmured, relieved that his voice didn’t betray how tense he felt.

  Face rigid with worry, Rachel entered the cleft.

  Jugard discarded his spear and moved in close, stone knife poised. He jumped forward, bringing the weapon down in a savage arc. Jason did not see the blow strike. He propelled himself through the cleft in five long strides, and bolted into the chamber of the titan crab, only a pace behind Rachel. The bit of seaweed he had dropped earlier still glowed green on the ground, mingling its light with the blue luminance of his seaweed bracelet.

  Water sprayed in his face. Macroid had been surging up from the water before they had even entered the chamber. Jugard must have drawn blood. As Jason sprinted forward, intent on the gap across the room, the titan crab, after the briefest pause, darted toward him, a massive blur glimpsed in his peripheral vision.

  There was nothing Jason could do except run, even though the crab would be on him before he was halfway across the room. Where was the dog? What if it was too asphyxiated to get up and chase them? What if it was attacking the convenient target of Jugard?

  Rachel was fast. Running full speed, fueled by desperation, Jason could barely keep pace with her. When the crab sprang, he would try to dodge, maybe buy Rachel some time.

  Deep baying rang harshly behind him. The black crab skidded to a stop. Jason hazarded a glance back. The boarhound was racing into the chamber, gaining ground even as the crab pounced at the bleeding canine, slicing Puggles in half with a lethally timed snip.

  Jason stumbled, taking several awkward steps forward before Rachel slowed enough to grab his arm and keep him upright. To fall was to die. The gap loomed before them, slightly wider than the previous cleft. Jason could hear the crab scuttling after them, closing fast. The scuttling stopped. The crab must be airborne! They were almost there.

  A tremendous force slammed into his back, pitching Jason forward through the gap. Whether the impact came from outstretched claw or armored body he could not distinguish, but it struck him with the blunt power of a battering ram. He bounced and rolled forward out of control, bare skin colliding with stone. Beside him Rachel tumbled as well. As she lost the momentum of her fall, she scrambled o
nward. Shouting in pain and fear, Jason rolled deeper into the recess, ignoring the scrapes and bruises on his elbows and knees.

  The shearing snip of razor claws rang desperately behind him. Looking back, he saw a black claw reaching into the gap, scissoring open and closed well out of reach. Jason panted, watching in mesmerized horror as the crab returned to the gory remains of the boarhound and began dissecting the corpse in a frenzy.

  “Oh my gosh!” Rachel exclaimed, voice trembling. “We almost died. I can’t believe we made it!”

  “That was close,” Jason grunted.

  “You alive?” The hoarse shout came from across the cavern.

  “We made it!” Jason cried out, still trying to fully accept that they were out of danger.

  “First since Galloran! Good luck to you. Safe journey.”

  “Thank you!” Rachel called.

  Jason crawled deeper into the cleft, emerging into a small room with no visible exit and no water. Sunlight filtered in through a tall shaft in the ceiling. He slumped onto his back and closed his eyes, hesitant to examine his injuries. Shock had dulled the pain, but even so he could feel his skin burning where it had torn, throbbing where it had bruised.

  “Are you all right?” Rachel asked, crouching beside him.

  “Just banged up,” Jason replied. “How about you?”

  “I made a luckier landing,” Rachel said. “Having clothes on must have helped. These pants may not be the most stylish, but they’re made of tough material.”

  Suppressing a groan, Jason sat up and began checking his wounds by the light on his wrist. No elbow or knee had escaped abrasions and bruises. One thigh had the largest scrape, beneath where his boxers had torn—a blotchy discolored wound streaked with thin lines of blood and sensitive to the touch. His palms were raw. Thankfully, nothing felt broken. Just sore.

  “The scrape on your thigh looks nasty,” Rachel commented.

  “Could have been worse,” Jason said, finally beginning to relax. “I could have lost a limb. Or my head.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like that crab,” Rachel said. “I thought we were goners. Did you see what it did to that dog? I mean, that was a big, strong dog.”

  Jason winced. He didn’t expect to get the image of the dog’s violent death out of his head anytime soon.

  “It was probably a good thing,” Rachel consoled. “The conscriptor had turned it into a monster.”

  Jason shook his head. “Nothing deserves to die like that.”

  “It was disgusting.”

  “Thanks, by the way,” Jason said, “for helping me keep my balance.”

  Rachel smiled. “I heard you stumble. You might not have fallen. I hope I didn’t slow you down.”

  “I probably would have fallen,” Jason admitted. “You pretty much saved my life.”

  “What are friends for?”

  Jason stood up. “We should keep moving.” He could hear the crab snipping frantically at the narrow gap again, probably drawn by his open wounds. The passageway curved, so Jason could not see Macroid from his current position. He wondered if the dog had already been devoured; then he tried to shut down his imagination.

  Jason and Rachel examined the room. Off in one corner a wooden platform attached to a chain dangled perhaps a foot off the ground. An iron lever projected from the wall beside it. Jason crossed to the platform and looked up. Most of the rocky ceiling was dark, but daylight spilled in through a single tall shaft. The chain from the platform stretched up the center of the shaft, which had to be nearly as high as the cliff. Sunlight came in through an opening in the side near the top. In the lofty sunlight he saw where the barbed chain disappeared into the rocky ceiling.

  “A primitive elevator?” Rachel asked, gazing up as well.

  “Looks like it,” Jason said. “Should we see if it still works?”

  “Give me a second,” Rachel said, lacing her hands behind her head and blowing out air. “I’ve never almost died before. Not really.”

  Jason noticed that her eyes looked a little misty. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. No. I don’t know. I mean, a giant man-eating crab? Seriously? What have we gotten ourselves into?”

  “A big mess,” Jason agreed. “At least we survived. And we already have a third of the Word.”

  She took a shuddering breath. “Way to find the bright side.”

  Jason fingered the iron lever. “Think the lever will make the elevator rise?”

  “I sure hope so,” Rachel said. “If we have to climb a barbed chain, I might walk back to Galloran and ask to be put on his secret farm.”

  “Hop on,” Jason suggested. “I’ll lean over and pull the lever.”

  “I’ll throw the lever,” Rachel corrected. “I should do something.”

  Jason almost argued, but stopped himself. “Fine. Then we’ll be even.”

  “No. I still jump off the next cliff.”

  “I’m hoping we’re finished with cliffs.”

  “You know what I mean. I’ll take the next big risk.”

  “I really was trying to be nice.”

  She studied him skeptically. “I think it also had a lot to do with getting your own way. If we want to succeed, we need to be able to trust each other. I can be stubborn too. But we need to be teammates.”

  “You’re right that I like getting my way,” Jason admitted. “But sometimes stubbornness can be a good thing. Like when Coach Bennion tried to quit.”

  “Who? What?”

  “I was in seventh grade, playing baseball with a club team. Coach Bennion was an assistant. He really helped me with my swing. Anyhow, our real coach was very strict. One day he had to go out of town, so Coach Bennion was running practice. Bennion was more laid back, and a bunch of the guys started goofing off, since Bennion wasn’t much of an enforcer.”

  “Were you one of those guys?” Rachel asked.

  “We were all guilty. Bennion tried to put his foot down, but we smelled weakness, and some of the guys talked back to him. I’d never seen Bennion mad, but his face went red, and he told us he was done; we could coach ourselves. I felt horrible. I followed him off the field, apologizing and telling him we’d do whatever he wanted to make it up to him. He told me to run a hundred laps. He wasn’t being serious. He was just trying to get rid of me. He got in his car and left.”

  “And you ran a hundred laps?” Rachel asked.

  “Most of the other players went home. A few ran part of the way. But I ran a hundred laps. I mean, I walked part of it. When my mom came to pick me up, I explained what had happened, and she let me keep going. It took until after midnight. Somehow Coach Bennion heard. And he decided not to quit.”

  “That’s pretty cool,” Rachel said.

  “Being stubborn can be good!”

  “Not if it makes you a bully. I’ll never be able to trust you during a coin toss.”

  “True, I may do something terrible like risk my life instead of yours.”

  “You had good intentions,” Rachel acknowledged. “It was even sweet. But with the kind of danger we’re in, trust matters a lot.”

  Jason folded his arms. “Okay. I’ll make you a deal. Next time instead of taking matters into my own hands, I’ll argue until you give up.”

  “That would be better. But don’t count on me always giving up.”

  Jason stepped onto the platform. Splintered and rotting, less than three feet square, the planks thankfully felt solid. Rachel climbed on as well, gripping the heavy chain below where the barbed wire links started as the platform gently swayed.

  “Should we do this?” Jason asked.

  “I’m ready,” Rachel confirmed, leaning over and placing a hand on the lever.

  “We don’t know how this will work,” Jason warned. “Might be a rough ride.”

  “I’ll hold on tight. You do the same.” She pulled the lever and quickly gripped the chain with both hands. A tumbling sound rattled inside the walls of the cavern, and the platform started rising.

&nbs
p; The chain and platform hauled Jason and Rachel upward, accelerating alarmingly, clattering ever louder as the speed of the ascent increased. Jason squeezed the chain. Pulleys shrieked. The chain vibrated. Near the top the speed decreased. For a moment the chain slackened in his hands as inertia continued to carry them upward. After they reached the weightless apex of their climb, gravity took over, and they fell until the chain jerked tight again with bone-wrenching abruptness, nearly breaking Jason’s desperate hold.

  Jason and Rachel stood face to face, separated only by the chain. Her eyes were shut. The platform pendulumed calmly in a weird silence broken only by the dreamy sounds of the surf. Glancing down, Jason beheld the dizzying drop to the stone floor below.

  Rachel opened her eyes. “Are we alive?”

  “For now.”

  “That went faster than I expected.”

  Jason heard a clicking sound. He noticed a simple iron dial on the wall, like the hand of a clock. It had pointed upward at first, but it was turning downward as the clicking continued.

  “I think we have a time limit,” Jason said, jutting his chin at the dial.

  A large, irregular opening in the wall of the shaft beside them overlooked the ocean. The afternoon sun shone down on the ranks of approaching swells.

  “Should we pump?” Rachel asked.

  Jason nodded.

  Synchronizing their efforts, Jason and Rachel began to lean backward and forward, swinging the platform in the direction of the opening. The clicking continued as the dial passed the three o’clock position. Before long Jason kicked out a leg and hooked his foot against the side of the opening. Rachel hopped off the platform to the narrow shelf. Bracing herself against the side of the opening, she steadied Jason as he released the chain and stepped onto the shelf beside her.

  They stood high on the cliff face. A small flock of gray gulls hung motionless, gliding into the breeze. A few worn handholds led up to the top.

  When the dial reached six o’clock, another tumbling sound came from within the walls of the rocky shaft, and the platform rapidly descended. Once the platform had reached the bottom, the dial reset, pointing upward. Staring at the barbed links of the chain, Jason was glad he didn’t have to descend this way. He looked up the final portion of the cliff face. “I guess we climb.”