hidden her claustrophobia from her instructors. Now it was coming back to bite her.
With fumbling fingers, she located her flashlight and clipped it onto her wrist. Waves of gooseflesh ran up her arms. I can do this. I’m not trapped. I can leave at any time. She stepped onto the ridge that surrounded the hole then down into the dark.
The tunnel was narrow and steep, lined floor-to-ceiling with flat stones the size of dinner plates. Red crevices pulsed like veins, making her feel like she was crawling down a monstrous throat.
The ceiling forced her into an uncomfortable crouch. She stretched her arms to the walls, afraid of falling. The pancake-like stones teetered beneath her weight. Her legs shook, and her back ached with strain. The flashlight cast a thin beam into the dark. It only served to accent her terror. The walls closed in as if the tunnel meant to swallow her.
“I can leave at any time,” she repeated like a mantra.
Sweat ran down her spine. She concentrated upon placing one foot before the other. How deep was she now? How much deeper would she be forced to go?
Then, when she thought she could stand no more, the tunnel opened. Impani stumbled to a halt, feeling dwarfed and insignificant as she gazed at the vast city of the ants.
Chapter 9
I mpani goggled at a cavern at least one hundred meters high. Dimly lit caves honeycombed the walls. Ants popped in and out. They climbed slanted terraces. Light touched their gleaming carapaces and turned their bodies gold.
Several other tunnels emptied into the cave—but only one was flanked by flaming torches. Mist hung before it in low clouds.
“There they are.” Trace motioned.
With a sort of fascinated dread, she watched Kkrick’s cohorts scale the wall, still carrying the dead beast. They reached the first terrace and disappeared into a cave. Kkrick turned to look at her. She felt his gaze like a stab to her stomach.
Curse Trace for talking her into climbing into this death pit. She was not the least bit interested in how these bugs lived.
Trace prodded her. Woodenly, she walked toward Kkrick. Ants watched with unblinking eyes.
Kkrick bowed. “Do you wishkk to bathe before eatingkk?”
“No, we just… bathed,” Trace said.
“Much kkgood. Come to feast. I take you childrenskk way.” He walked up a ramp to the first terrace.
The walls were rippled and pocked. Ants scaled the surface as if upon ladders. They seemed anxious to catch a glimpse of the newcomers.
Kkrick led to another terrace and then another. Impani glanced down. Below them, ants poured from the tunnels into the city. There were hundreds of them. Their horrible clicking sounds echoed in the vast space. Again, Trace prodded her.
She continued upward along the slanted ledge. The cave openings she passed were octagonal. Through the filters of her mask, she smelled moldy dirt. And something else. Death. Like the old tombs and crypts in the cemetery where she’d grown up.
Kkrick stopped. He motioned her toward a cave. Impani dug in her heels, and her partner walked into her back. She looked at Trace, pleading with her eyes for him not to force her to go in there.
<<>>
T race smiled encouragingly at Impani, although he wasn’t sure she could see him in the gloom. He bounced on the balls of his feet, excited to see more of the hive. He remembered the ant farm he’d kept as a boy, remembered watching day-by-day as the ants built their kingdom.
He glanced at the opening of the cave. Like the other caves they’d passed, this one smelled of freshly overturned soil, reminding him of his father’s farm. The impression of welcome faded with the impatient clicking of their guide.
“Kkrick wants us to go in,” he said to Impani. “That’s right, isn’t it? We should go inside?”
Kkrick nodded. “Sticky.”
Trace ushered Impani through the opening into a round vestibule. The floor was indeed sticky and oddly resilient, as if he walked upon netting. Strands draped
With fumbling fingers, she located her flashlight and clipped it onto her wrist. Waves of gooseflesh ran up her arms. I can do this. I’m not trapped. I can leave at any time. She stepped onto the ridge that surrounded the hole then down into the dark.
The tunnel was narrow and steep, lined floor-to-ceiling with flat stones the size of dinner plates. Red crevices pulsed like veins, making her feel like she was crawling down a monstrous throat.
The ceiling forced her into an uncomfortable crouch. She stretched her arms to the walls, afraid of falling. The pancake-like stones teetered beneath her weight. Her legs shook, and her back ached with strain. The flashlight cast a thin beam into the dark. It only served to accent her terror. The walls closed in as if the tunnel meant to swallow her.
“I can leave at any time,” she repeated like a mantra.
Sweat ran down her spine. She concentrated upon placing one foot before the other. How deep was she now? How much deeper would she be forced to go?
Then, when she thought she could stand no more, the tunnel opened. Impani stumbled to a halt, feeling dwarfed and insignificant as she gazed at the vast city of the ants.
Chapter 9
I mpani goggled at a cavern at least one hundred meters high. Dimly lit caves honeycombed the walls. Ants popped in and out. They climbed slanted terraces. Light touched their gleaming carapaces and turned their bodies gold.
Several other tunnels emptied into the cave—but only one was flanked by flaming torches. Mist hung before it in low clouds.
“There they are.” Trace motioned.
With a sort of fascinated dread, she watched Kkrick’s cohorts scale the wall, still carrying the dead beast. They reached the first terrace and disappeared into a cave. Kkrick turned to look at her. She felt his gaze like a stab to her stomach.
Curse Trace for talking her into climbing into this death pit. She was not the least bit interested in how these bugs lived.
Trace prodded her. Woodenly, she walked toward Kkrick. Ants watched with unblinking eyes.
Kkrick bowed. “Do you wishkk to bathe before eatingkk?”
“No, we just… bathed,” Trace said.
“Much kkgood. Come to feast. I take you childrenskk way.” He walked up a ramp to the first terrace.
The walls were rippled and pocked. Ants scaled the surface as if upon ladders. They seemed anxious to catch a glimpse of the newcomers.
Kkrick led to another terrace and then another. Impani glanced down. Below them, ants poured from the tunnels into the city. There were hundreds of them. Their horrible clicking sounds echoed in the vast space. Again, Trace prodded her.
She continued upward along the slanted ledge. The cave openings she passed were octagonal. Through the filters of her mask, she smelled moldy dirt. And something else. Death. Like the old tombs and crypts in the cemetery where she’d grown up.
Kkrick stopped. He motioned her toward a cave. Impani dug in her heels, and her partner walked into her back. She looked at Trace, pleading with her eyes for him not to force her to go in there.
<<>>
T race smiled encouragingly at Impani, although he wasn’t sure she could see him in the gloom. He bounced on the balls of his feet, excited to see more of the hive. He remembered the ant farm he’d kept as a boy, remembered watching day-by-day as the ants built their kingdom.
He glanced at the opening of the cave. Like the other caves they’d passed, this one smelled of freshly overturned soil, reminding him of his father’s farm. The impression of welcome faded with the impatient clicking of their guide.
“Kkrick wants us to go in,” he said to Impani. “That’s right, isn’t it? We should go inside?”
Kkrick nodded. “Sticky.”
Trace ushered Impani through the opening into a round vestibule. The floor was indeed sticky and oddly resilient, as if he walked upon netting. Strands draped
Similar Books
