Under Snake Island, page 13
“Then you must have an idea how to kill her, yes?”
Malcolm said, “Something like that.”
The marauder seemed pleased. “Then we’ll take her head with whatever treasure she has. You’ll help us.”
Elisabeth wasn’t sure what he expected. They had no great plan, no secret method to killing Medusa. Her ‘plan’ had been to fill the monster with a lot of bullets and hope she didn’t get back up.
“We have to get out of here,” Vincente said, eyeing the surface high above.
“There’s your exit,” Elisabeth said, pointing to the column-lined doorway.
“No,” said Henrique. “We go. Back up.” He was selecting his English words with care. Up close, he looked far more dangerous. He stood a head taller than both Malcolm and Duncan.
Across his back he carried the elephant gun—the one Elisabeth bought back when she thought the worst part of this adventure would be a monster. She guessed the firing pin was never disabled.
“Alright, you heard the man,” said Saulo. “Better up than in. Besides, we need those very pricy supplies that are just sitting there in the rain.”
Just as he said this, one of the golden lanceheads dropped into the hole and slithered toward them. Marcela brought her boot down hard on its head, a sickening crunch under her heel.
“Hurry,” she said, almost a plea.
Malcolm stared up at the surface and then back to Saulo. “Not gonna happen, lad.”
Saulo had reached the limit of his patience. He pulled out his gun and fired it over Malcolm’s head. Elisabeth winced and dropped to her knees.
“You’re the caver, right? Make us a damned path.” Saulo unclipped the climbing gear from his pack and tossed it at Malcolm’s feet.
Elisabeth and Duncan exchanged a knowing look—it wasn’t because monsters lurked above, but because there were no anchor points. The sides of the hole were all dirt and loose rocks. Climbing out of here would be impossible.
Vincente shrieked and started firing into the air. Elisabeth figured they’d dawdled too long, that the monsters had returned to finish off the trapped invaders. But it wasn’t the monsters.
It was just raining snakes.
They’d caught up to them and now tumbled down in droves. Some bounced on the sides or slithered down while others were in freefall, hitting the stone floor with a heavy splat.
Elisabeth backed away, taking both Duncan and Malcolm by the arms. Saulo rapid-fired Portuguese as quickly as Vincente fired bullets. He likely told him it was pointless, that he would run out of ammo long before the snakes exhausted their supply.
Vincente screamed back and she heard the names Ivo and César and knew he was mourning his friends, perhaps family. Between the scuffle and the snakes, no one paid attention to Elisabeth and her friends.
More snakes poured over the edge. Those that survived the shock of the fall slithered forward, their tongues lashing at the scent of these sweaty humans. Saulo snatched Marcela’s arm and backed up as the wave of hissing rushed closer. Two thumps shook the ground—a pair of massive black snakes entered and joined the hunt.
“Go, now!” Malcolm said, and pushed Elisabeth toward the doorway. Duncan followed behind.
One of the men screamed, and then a chunk of the doorway exploded as someone fired at her. Elisabeth looked back just long enough to see Saulo lowering Vincente’s gun and pushing him away. Maybe Saulo would keep her alive if he thought she had some elusive way to kill Medusa.
“It’s dark, Lizzy, be careful,” said Duncan as the three of them fled down a long hallway. It was awkward considering she had one boot missing.
With the night vision, she could see it in shades of green. The stone walls were broad enough that her arms couldn’t touch them both at once. The hall seemed without end, disappearing into a square of blackness. Thankfully, there were no snakes.
Voices followed them in—the marauders had taken up the chase. Each time she looked back, there was a searing glare—their bobbing flashlights. Over their screams, she could hear the slither and hiss of a thousand snakes chasing after them. The thought of those giant anacondas in the confines of the tunnel made her heart leap. Somehow, she picked up speed.
“Christ, there’s more ahead . . . I think,” said Malcolm. Elisabeth also heard it—a roar, similar to the hiss of the snakes’ collective, but different. However, she was more apt to face an unknown enemy rather than a certain one.
She ran, wishing she had some kind of weapon, wishing she had both boots. All she had was a cell phone in her pocket and the helmet on her head.
Another twenty meters in and she was thankful she didn’t look back as she had most of the jaunt down the hall. The floor and walls ended at jagged bricks, crumbling into rushing water five meters below.
A wide river—at least ten meters across, flowed off into the darkness. She couldn’t see how far it ran. This chamber was enormous—at least ten meters up from where she stood. All of it looked worked—bricks laid by hand. Arachne’s domain paled in comparison to this intricate place.
In the water, she spotted hundreds of little lights—like floating coins glinting back at her. Only then did she understand what she was seeing.
Hundreds of snakes treading water, their eyes glowing under infrared.
“Go b—,” she started to say, but by now the marauders had caught up to them. And, without the clarity of night vision, didn’t see the three shapes standing there.
Saulo smacked into Elisabeth and over they went, down into the water. The scream in her throat perished as the cold slapped her. She grabbed the chin strap of her helmet to keep it from flying off.
The current carried her away, and fast. She was glad the night vision helmet seemed waterproof. In her tumbling, she faced the spot where she’d fallen and saw several more shapes going in—she counted at least three.
She turned back around and tried to make sense of her surroundings. There was nothing to see, no landmarks, no rocks, not even the ceiling was visible from here. Twice something touched her arm but she moved too fast for it to get a better feel.
The water dropped her five meters and kept going. Somewhere behind, she could hear screaming. Others in the water, flowing with her. Elisabeth bounced off an outcropping of rocks and could feel an awful slice on her shoulder. She put her hands over her head and prayed she would land somewhere safe. The river had to stop . . . didn’t it?
Other tunnels with their own currents joined the water and she sped up. More jagged rocks rose to give her a dangerous path. They were difficult to see, as the foaming around the bases wasn’t visible until she was a meter away.
One rock was so large that she managed to grab it. Vines covered the whole thing, and she pulled her arm taut trying to keep hold. While she struggled, more screaming, flailing shapes zipped by. When the vines snapped, she was swept down the river again. This time, she veered off to the left and collided with a nest of scraggly, dead moss that prevented her from following the main current.
After a moment of her weight, the moss broke and Elisabeth hurtled further down the river. The screams faded into the distant, as she was certain she was being carried in another direction.
She coasted along for another hundred meters until the rough current ended—and she was falling down a waterfall. The drop was so long that she couldn’t even see the bottom. Elisabeth had no doubt this marked her end.
She’d had a similar thought under Bethel—that she would die, in water, in a place where people would never find her body. This time around, it wasn’t so scary. With the trouble she’d given to the world, Elisabeth preferred to disappear.
300 Meters Under Snake Island
Somehow, the fall didn’t kill her.
The river calmed at the bottom of the waterfall. A slow current moved her, and it was deep enough that her feet didn’t feel the riverbed, and wide enough that she couldn’t see the righthand bank.
The fall did, however, damage her night vision. She only had sight in her right eye, and even then a wide fissure ran down the middle of the screen. Elisabeth pulled herself onto the wide left bank. She rested on her back, gazing at a non-existent cave ceiling. This place was massive.
Far off, she heard the echo of voices. Screams, shouting. She tried to confirm if they were of anger, fear, or pain, but they didn’t last long enough. This place was silent. The only sound was the rush of the water above the falls.
Elisabeth sat up and took inventory of herself. She had a nasty gash on her left shoulder, but no way of treating it. There was also the cell phone in her pocket. It worked because she had purchased a waterproof case during her swimming-as-therapy phase.
She had no supplies except a single chocolate bar that was part of the military ration she’d been eating back at the tent when the boat showed up. Elisabeth must have absently placed it in her pocket when they assessed the newcomers.
All that gear, she thought. A mobile cell phone tower, snake repellant, weapons, a medical crash cart. None of it helped them now. She didn’t know whether to scream or cry.
She removed the night vision helmet to rub her eyes, plunging the world into black. It was the same under Bethel—a pervading darkness where it seemed to suck the air out of her lungs. Even the hand in front of her face was only a concept.
Elisabeth readjusted the night vision helmet and it blinked out before coming back on. The thing was damaged—how long before it stopped working? At least she had her phone—and sixty-one percent charge. That would give her light, at least for a little while.
She was just about to appraise her surroundings when she saw a pair of coin-sized orbs glowing on the surface of the water. Elisabeth didn’t move. She didn’t even breathe. Focusing on the shape, she realized the eyes were too big for the common snakes.
It was an anaconda.
It drifted along, wading just enough to keep it moving. A long plate of scales rode on the surface of the water, with the rest being submerged. With its nose beneath the river, it likely couldn’t smell her. At least that’s what she hoped. This snake wasn’t looking for her. It was just passing by.
She watched until it was out of the night vision’s range. The body seemed to go on forever, stretching at least five meters. When it was gone, she looked up, and gasped over the strange architecture.
The river ran beneath a tall archway of worked stone. Cut into the rock was a pair of massive statues. Both were men, both on their knees, holding giant hammers diagonally from their bodies. With one on either side, they created the arch for the water to pass.
“What . . . the hell?” she whispered, her voice sounding loud in the silence.
There was no mistaking the Greek intricacies. But she’d never seen something so grand. Even Arachne’s lair didn’t hold quite the same level of embellishments. This surpassed Medusa, she thought. This was something else entirely.
With no other path, she walked along the bank and passed beneath the archway. The bank followed the river’s curve, while she focused on the colonnade to the left, marking the entrance to a chamber that resembled the odd shrine in Arachne’s lair.
Large spaces were difficult to determine with the night vision. The walls and ceiling extended beyond her sight, heightening the claustrophobic atmosphere. Rather than search for features, she watched the ground for snakes.
Like the first tunnel, this entire place was constructed of stone bricks. The floor, walls, and possibly the ceiling if she could see that high. It was in good condition, especially the ornate statues along the walls.
She didn’t recognize most of them—regal men and women in togas, laurel headdresses, and holding items that ranged from swords to lyres. Gods, perhaps? Elisabeth wagered this was a tomb considering the long, stone boxes that filled the room.
From what she’d learned of Arachne, the monsters used the help of humans in building their lairs—they treated them well, then offered them a sacred place to spend eternity. None of these were statues of Athena. That was fitting. She cursed Medusa the same as she’d cursed Arachne.
Deeper into the chamber, she heard a cough.
Elisabeth dropped behind the nearest sarcophagus and listened. Her heart was thudding, a trickle of sweat rolled down her back. The coughing stopped, yet she heard footsteps nearby. She ventured a look over the stone box, and less than ten meters away, stood Marcela.
She held a torch, but little else. The beam searched the corners, seeking a way out. Her back was to Elisabeth, her arms folded in. If she were holding a gun, Elisabeth couldn’t tell. By the way she favored her left leg, it appeared she was injured.
Elisabeth stood and searched the room, making sure she was alone. All those who entered the water were separated. She hoped Malcolm and Duncan were alright.
She crept behind the woman, keeping her steps small and lifting her feet so she didn’t scrape on the stone. The rushing of the water was near, although it wouldn’t mask her noise.
If Marcela turned around, her light would fall on Elisabeth. At this distance, she could rush and catch her by surprise. As long as she didn’t have a gun . . .
“Saulo?” she said, stopping Elisabeth at once. She thought the man had appeared but no, Marcela was speaking into a radio. The click of static returned no voices. “Anyone?”
If one hand held the torch and the other the radio, Marcela wasn’t armed. At least she didn’t have her finger on the trigger. Elisabeth advanced quicker, but two steps from the woman and she stepped on a dry branch.
A dry branch? Here, in a cave?
She had no time to consider it. Marcela, fueled purely by instinct, whirled around and led with the torch. Elisabeth raised her arm, only to have it thumped by the light.
Before she could recoil, Marcela was on her and both tumbled to the ground, the torch and radio flying away. Although Marcela was fit, she was also small, so Elisabeth easily pushed her away with her knees. Marcela was probably a better fighter, but she was blind in the darkness with her only light source rolling to the other side of the room.
Elisabeth scrambled up just as the marauder lunged for her feet. Marcela ended up on the ground again, wincing at the pain in her leg. She rolled over, put her back against a sarcophagus, and waited. A crazed, fearful expression crossed her face.
“Are you armed?” Elisabeth asked, snatching her wrists.
“Let go of me!” Marcela said, pushing her away. Elisabeth fell back, rolled over, then chased after the blind girl who bolted into the darkness.
But across the room, at the periphery of the night vision, stood Medusa’s scaled body. She stood at such a height that only her human-like stomach was visible.
Elisabeth lunged for Marcela, forced her to the ground, and put a hand over her mouth. Marcela thrashed and it crossed her mind to snap the girl’s neck right then and there. She’d never be able to do such a thing, but she still thought about it.
“Hold still,” she whispered in Marcela’s ear. “She’s here!”
The girl’s body went limp. Some of the tension left, but not all. Elisabeth eased her up. She reminded herself that Marcela couldn’t see.
Elisabeth looked over the stone box—but Medusa wasn’t in the same spot.
She’d slithered to the other side to inspect the torch.
“Shit,” said Elisabeth. “She’s after your damned light.”
“Let’s go back the way you came.”
“It’s a dead end. And the monster is blocking it, anyway.”
She watched Medusa, seeing her in horrific detail for the first time. Nothing like the legends, she had a beautiful, almost angelic face. Her eyes appeared as white orbs under the night vision. From the waist up, her human features were soft and dainty. The snakes atop her head were mesmerizing and tugging outward, as if they wanted to free themselves from her hair.
The long, serpentine tail had plates—or keels, as she’d learned. Whenever she slithered, it made a wisping sound, like something being pulled from plastic.
Her snake body coiled like a shepherd’s hook, allowing her to stoop and retrieve the torch. After testing the on and off switch, she tossed it aside where the bulb popped and went dark. Then, the monster looked around the room.
She slithered toward them and stopped. Elisabeth dropped and threw her back against the stone box and then pulled Marcela down with her. The girl’s painful and ragged breathing was going to get them caught.
She felt the monster’s gaze, just a few steps behind them. Chancing a look back, she wished she hadn’t—Medusa had lifted herself until her body was three meters in the air. The monster surveyed the room, acting as her own guard tower, searching for the torch’s owner. If she only looked down . . .
Elisabeth felt a tickle in her throat and hoped she wouldn’t cough. She held her breath and lowered her head toward her lap.
And that’s when she saw the snake gliding beneath her bent legs. It slithered past and disappeared into the darkness. Another one appeared at her boot, its tongue licking at the air.
Medusa was silent behind them, still scanning the room.
Another snake, this one as thick as Elisabeth’s forearm, crept over her boot and into Marcela’s lap. The blind girl didn’t see it coming, but felt it. Elisabeth slapped her hand against Marcela’s mouth and clenched it. She was whimpering.
Another snake, the thickest one Elisabeth had ever seen, coasted by. But this wasn’t a snake, but Medusa’s tail, absently wrapping around the nearby sarcophagus. It passed, the string of rattlers bouncing.
As it dragged off into the distance, Elisabeth looked around the edge of the stone box. Medusa’s tail was feeding into the ceiling. The monster had left through a hole they couldn’t see. Knowing Medusa could strike at any moment terrified her.
They sat there a few minutes longer, making sure there were no sounds, no lingering monsters. But the passing snakes unnerved them, so Elisabeth stood, grabbed Marcela by the shoulder and lifted her to her feet.
Then she walked off.
“Wait, are you just going to leave me here?” she asked.
Elisabeth turned around just as Marcela bumped into her.
