The Devil’s Rib Cage. I could not have named this place better myself. The walls are buttressed like an old mine shaft, the ancient wood bowing significantly under the weight from above and the walls, pocked with crevices and cracks, emitted steam like a pot of boiling water. Forming an oppressive cloud that hung about the ceiling , the vapor had the three of us were perspiring within minutes. I still had not figured out what was causing the red glow, and as I wiped sweat from my forehead for what felt like the thousandth time, I stopped trying.
“I don’t like this place,” Benny said, dabbing at his forehead with a crumpled piece of cloth.
“At least you’re not screaming like a girl again,” I reply.
“Stop it,” Mary glares at me. “You both are welcome to go back, especially if you are going to fight like kids. I agree with you, Benny. I don’t like this place either.” She takes the lead, negotiating a right turn, and then a left, the ever present red glow illuminating the way.
It was not long after that we reached the first branch. The tunnel splits off to our right, the light in it fading out to a dull green somewhere off in the distance. I had to bend over sharply in order to fit in it, although Mary was short enough that had she let her hair down, she would have been able to stand upright, or at least only had to crook her neck slightly.
“No, I can’t think it’s down that way. The red light continues this way,” She says, pointing down the tunnel we are already traversing.
A distant shout from down the red to green tunnel startles us. A form resolves itself out of the shadows moving toward us at a fast clip. “Move,” I say and we break into a run, following the caverns ribs further from the Walking Rocks.
I think I make out the word ‘wait’ echoing down the corridor toward us but I do not hesitate, running just fast enough to avoid stepping on Benny’s heels. “Come on,” I say, looking over my shoulder. I do not see our pursuer yet, but I can still make out the side passage we have left behind. We take a sharp right, the glowing red rocks still with us. We continue running, coming to another turn, round it and skid to a stop, almost running Cyrus over.
“I said wait,” he says with a wolfish grin.
“How- How did you find us?” Benny stammers, pulling Mary back behind him.
“Freak Beans, how good to see you again,” Cyrus says, extending his hand to my companion who shrinks before the extended appendage as if it was a red hot poker.
Mary glances at me and I shrug and shake my head slightly.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you Charlie.” He says, turning his attention to me.
Mary uses the distraction stepping around Benny and delivering a kick between Cyrus’ legs, but the man deftly shifts, absorbing the blow with the inside of his thigh. His face contorts for a brief second before returning to the wolfish grin.
“Is that any way to treat your future husband?” Cyrus says, stepping toward her, his still extended hand reaching for her collar.
My blade is in my hand and I have it leveled at his chest before he can make contact. “Close enough,” I say, ignoring the sweat that has dripped into my eyes.
Cyrus snorts and steps back. As he does so, he reaches over his right shoulder and grasps what looks like a piece of rebar that is strapped to his back. As he extends his arm I see that it is indeed a piece of reinforcing steel, the ridges giving it away. He holds the stick before him and it is then that I realize that its tip has been sharpened to a long point.
Mary and Benny step back, leaving only a few feet of open stone separating Cyrus and me. I cast a quick glance to my right and my left, trying to gauge how much room I have to move. I am glad I did, because as I refocus on my opponent, he takes a step forward, his weapon swinging at me in a sidelong arc. I dance to my right and back a step, the tip narrowly avoiding my coat as it flows with me. I swing the blade clumsily with all of my weight behind it, throwing myself off balance and stumbling toward Cyrus. He tries to dodge but we collide and collapse in a tangle of limbs. We both let go of our weapons and proceed to claw at each other until suddenly Cyrus slacks off.
“Enough,” Mary says, her booted heel pressed firmly against the side of my foe’s head.
I get in one last jab as I try to extract myself from the jumble and take one in the ribs myself.
“I said enough,” Mary grinds her foot against Cyrus’ ear and he stops. “I will never become your wife,” she spits at him.
“You are lovely when you are mad,” Cyrus says, his smile returning.
Mary spits again, but before the glob has made it to its target, we are all blinded by the flash of a bright light.
“Damn it,” I gasp, rolling off of my stomach and rubbing my eyes. “He gone?” I ask as a pair of hands grasps me under the arms.
“Yeah,” Freak Beans says, lifting me up with his good arm. I immediately sag against him and he curses as I bump into his injured elbow.
“Sorry,” I say, trying to straighten myself up and failing, slumping all the way down to the ground.
“You're bleeding!” Mary exclaims. The cold stone floor is cold against my cheek.
No comments:
Post a Comment