Catacomb, page 9
The vibrant palette of riotous colour and variety of scents were overwhelming after the stark stone of the earlier tunnels. She had explored countless underground places, navigated abandoned mines and underground ruins. But this was a different kind of wasteland, its untamed flora a far cry from the quiet decay of human-made structures she was used to. This place had a grotesque beauty, and it was a unique spectacle that only a few daring — or desperate — explorers would ever witness.
Each plant was a kind of natural graffiti, daubing the cavern with nature’s rebellious tag. Their shapes were as varied and peculiar as any urban art she had seen. There were twisted tendrils, leaves serrated like rusty barbed wire, and petals veined in an array of jarring hues.
Max itched to pull out her camera, longing to capture the eerie beauty of this carnivorous garden for her audience online. She imagined the original photographs she could take, with twisted shadows and the juxtaposition of raw, alien life against rugged stone.
Photography had always been her way of capturing the unseen beauty of the city’s bones. Urbex wasn’t just about the thrill of the breach, the adrenalin of trespass, but also about documenting what was left behind, the hidden aspects of the world most people never got to witness. Each photograph she posted online was also proof of her own journey, a piece of the urban tapestry she had woven over the years. This place would be a revelation for those who considered the depths beneath the city to be cold and forbidding — and she was desperate to show it to them.
As their makeshift path through the undergrowth weaved closer to one of the cavern walls, Max played her torch over the lichen that carpeted every inch in a miniature landscape of crags and valleys.
They were not of uniform growth but more a complex ecology of various species. Some bore tiny flowers of tainted hues, and others formed patterns that looked like faces contorted with terror. The vines that climbed the walls were dark twins of rainforest liana, their bulbs bloating and deflating with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic.
As Max leaned closer, another of the bulbs opened its flesh-like flower. An insect landed on its petal and crawled toward the nectar within.
The insect was the size of a clenched fist with a chitinous exoskeleton, as hard and jagged as shards of broken glass. Its wings were broad and leathery, resembling the dried leaves of the macabre plants around, and it was a deep, oily black, absorbing light in a way that made the creature seem like a moving shadow.
Six elongated legs sprouted from its underbelly, each ending in a set of barbed hooks, perfectly designed to latch onto and shred soft flesh. The insect moved with an uncanny, lurching motion, each step leaving behind a small pool of viscous, luminous fluid, creating an eerie glow in the darkness.
It was unlike anything she had seen before, and Max bit her lip as she wrestled with indecision.
She glanced ahead.
Walker and Laurel moved swiftly through the vegetation, fixed on the potential path ahead. There was surely time to take a few quick photos before they were out of sight. No one had ever documented this place and its bizarre life forms, and Max couldn’t resist the urge to capture it.
She moved slowly, careful not to disturb the insect from its quest, and opened her pack. She pulled out her tiny digital camera.
Holding her breath, Max looked through the viewfinder and focused on the unusual insect, every detail sharp in the frame.
She took shot after shot, shifting her position so she could capture different angles. Her hip brushed against one plant as she tried to include more of the cave as a backdrop.
Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain on her forearm cut through her concentration.
Max let out a surprised gasp.
She dropped her camera as she flinched away from the hideous vine that was now wrapped around her arm, its barbed tendrils embedded into her skin. The thorns gleamed, slick with her blood, and they flexed as if alive to secure their grip upon her. A burning sensation spread from the wounds, as if the vine were pumping venom into her veins.
“Help!” Her shout reverberated around the cavern. “Walker! Laurel!”
Max desperately tried to wrench the plant off, but the vine tightened its grip, the venomous thorns digging deeper as she moaned with pain. Other vines curled closer to her feet as if to pull her to the ground and smother her.
Laurel and Walker whirled around. They crashed back through the undergrowth to reach her, squelching the fleshy plants underfoot, releasing a pungent rotten odour that turned the stomach.
Walker pulled out his knife and hacked at the sinewy stem of the monstrous flower below Max’s arm, as Laurel tried to fend off the other advancing vines. Max whimpered as the thorns burrowed deeper, injecting more of the numbing poison into her veins.
With a grunt of effort and a last brutal hack, Walker severed the bulbous vine.
It softened and fell away, leaving a bloodied, gaping wound on Max’s arm.
She collapsed to the cavern floor, her breath coming in short, pained gasps.
Laurel knelt next to her. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
“In… my… bag,” Max gasped, her vision narrowing as the venom infused her veins.
Laurel hastily pulled out the first aid kit and Max nodded at the antihistamine tablets.
“Give me one of those first. It might slow any allergic reaction.”
Laurel quickly gave her the tablet, along with a couple of strong painkillers, and Max dry swallowed them as Laurel took out an antiseptic wipe. She removed as much of the plant material as she could, then sprayed the open wound with antiseptic before wrapping it in a bandage.
Max gritted her teeth at the pain, but the open wound didn’t worry her as much as whatever the hell was in the plant’s toxin.
“We need to move.” Walker slashed at the vines that writhed toward the three of them. “The scent of fresh blood in the air has set this place off.”
The verdant garden around them quivered as the plants transformed into a writhing carpet of predatory hunger. Vines snaked toward them with alarming speed, thorn-encrusted tendrils twitching in anticipation.
Above them, the lichen-covered ceiling trembled, releasing a cloud of insects.
They descended like a plague, darkening the air as some spun down on silken threads while others scuttled down the walls with a chitinous rattle.
19
“Let’s go!” Walker bent to help Max up, dragging her through the undergrowth as Laurel took her other arm, both propelling her on.
The ground was alive beneath their feet, bucking and churning as roots erupted from the ground to twist up around their ankles as they passed. The plants writhed and lunged, coiled and twisted, fighting to ensnare their prey once more.
Bulbous flowers snapped at their heels. Gaping maws revealed rows of serrated teeth as viscous venom dripped from the hungry petals, the substance sizzling where it splattered their clothes.
Walker slashed with his blade, leaving Max to lean on Laurel as he defended their escape route, severing the advancing tendrils that sought to ensnare them.
The teeming cloud of insects soon reached them. They dive-bombed the three, peppering their exposed skin with stinging bites, their frenzy fuelled by the tantalising scent of fresh blood.
Max could barely breathe as they staggered through the undergrowth, her heart thundering from the exertion of trying to run and the assault of the venom. As her vision narrowed, she noticed that the sound of running water was growing louder.
They burst out of the jungle onto the edge of a series of steep stone steps that led down to a subterranean river. The water was fast and furious, a torrent of churning white froth that rushed toward what sounded like a waterfall in the distance.
The steps were slick with a carpet of damp moss, which lent an uncanny luminescence to the surfaces in the spectral glow of bioluminescent fungi clinging to the cavern ceiling. Rivulets of water traced paths along the edge of the steps, cascading down in miniature waterfalls.
As Max looked down the steep stairs that lead to the roaring river below, a knot of foreboding tightened in her stomach.
Her head spun, and the world tilted precariously as venom pulsed through her veins, clouding her vision with splinters of pain. As the strength in her limbs waned, a heavy lethargy pulled her down, as if trying to root her to the spot. She only wanted to sink down right here and rest, but they had to press on.
Max leaned on Laurel, depending on her strength to stay upright, but even that might not be enough. She could only hope the drugs would kick in soon and she could walk on under her own power. She couldn’t ask Walker to wait as time was running out for Emily.
Behind them, he fought against the relentless onslaught of the carnivorous vines, grunting with effort.
Each slice of his knife through the sinewy stems sent a spray of plant ichor splattering onto the mossy stone beneath them. His breathing was a harsh reminder that they would not last long here. They had to get to the water, where the garden’s domain ended.
“We can make it,” Laurel said with determination. “One step at a time.”
“I’ll stay behind you and keep the plants off,” Walker called back.
With a last look back at the encroaching vines, Max drew a shaky breath and steeled herself for the descent.
Each stride was a battle. Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her on the unyielding stone. The steps were slippery beneath her feet, damp with rivulets of water and treacherously slick moss. The throb of pain in her arm was a relentless drumbeat, pulsing in sync with her racing heart, and the world around her spun and swayed.
Laurel supported her as much as possible with her arm a steady brace around Max’s waist. Every time Max stumbled, Laurel tightened her grip, steadying her with a determined tenacity while Walker protected their descent from behind.
At last, the steps ended in a flat expanse of stone that jutted out into the furious torrent of water. Max’s strength gave out, and she slumped down, resting her burning arm in the shallow froth that lapped over the edge of the platform.
Laurel knelt beside her, their breath mingling in ragged gasps.
Walker joined them a moment later, sweat dripping down his face, his clothes covered in green slime and snagged with thorny pieces of vine.
But the violent attack was over.
“I have to push on,” Walker said once he had caught his breath. He pointed over the rushing river. “It’s not too wide and presumably not too deep, since the Grendsluagh must have come this way with Emily. There’s no other way through that cavern.”
He rose to his feet, his gaze intent on the turbulent water that separated them from their path ahead, then looked back at Max. “Can you make it?”
She glanced up at the writhing vines on the upper steps. “Well, I’m not going back that way.”
Laurel gave a short laugh. “Me neither. Onwards it is.”
Walker strode into the water. The river swirled up around his waist as he braced himself against the current and tested the bottom depth until he found purchase below.
Turning back to the shore, he extended a hand toward Max. “It’s not too deep. Come on. We can make it together.”
He helped her down. The freezing shock of the water was a blessed relief on Max’s arm as the icy coolness soothed the inflamed wound.
Laurel clambered in behind her and together they began to walk across, fighting the insistent tug of the current sideways toward the waterfall.
Max kept her uninjured hand on Walker’s pack to anchor herself, but each step was a struggle, each breath a battle.
She pressed on, sensing Laurel pushing her from behind, grateful for support on either side. The three of them had been strangers earlier today, and now it seemed they would risk their lives for each other.
By the time they made it to the middle of the river, they moved in unison. Inch by painstaking inch, they shuffled forward, keeping their feet anchored to the ground. Their clothes clung, heavy with water, to almost numb limbs, but they pushed on.
The roar of the waterfall grew louder as they made it into the final metres, the shore growing closer with each strained step.
As Max gave in to relief at the sight of the nearby shore, a sudden rush of debris tumbled across the surface of the water. Twigs and foliage, then small branches torn from unseen trees upstream, bobbed and tumbled toward them in the frothing current.
She braced herself against the onslaught of the debris, letting go of Walker’s pack so it could pass between them.
Behind her, Laurel let go too.
Suddenly, a huge log loomed out of the darkness like a missile; thick branches angled out from either side as it plunged down the river toward them.
Walker spun around, instinctively reaching out to grab Max’s arm.
She clung to him and turned to grab for Laurel — their fingers brushed for a fleeting moment—
The log crashed into them.
They were torn apart.
The current yanked Laurel away as if she were nothing more than another piece of driftwood. Her scream was cut off as she disappeared beneath the surface, swallowed by the torrential current — hurtling toward the waterfall.
20
Laurel’s world turned to chaos. One moment, she was fighting against the biting cold of the rushing water, her boots scrabbling for purchase on the slick, submerged stones.
The next, the log hit her, knocking her sideways.
The turbulent current tugged her off her feet, water flooding her mouth with the bitter taste of minerals and chalk as she gasped in shock.
She fought against the barrelling flow, flailing her arms, kicking her legs to prevent herself from being tangled in the branches of the log that still tumbled around her.
But the torrent flowed on, carrying her downstream as it tossed her body about like a rag doll.
The sound of the waterfall grew louder. Her panic rose.
Laurel kicked out for the bank, swimming as hard as she could at a diagonal to the current, each stroke a battle, each breath a victory.
The desperate struggle against the torrential water was exhausting, but Laurel mustered every ounce of strength she had. She kicked against the rapids, reaching out for the slippery stones of the bank, the roots of plants, anything that would offer an anchor.
But the savage current was relentless.
She fought to keep her head above the surface, gasping for air between the frothing waves.
Her body hit something hard and unyielding. A submerged boulder. The force of the collision sent pain lancing through her, a burning ache spreading like wildfire across her ribs. Laurel could taste coppery blood in her mouth, the sharp tang of it mixing with the acrid taste of the river.
She glimpsed a low-hanging branch jutting out from the bank.
With a final, desperate surge of energy, she lunged toward it, fingers brushing the coarse bark—
But the merciless water ripped her away before she could secure a hold.
The branch slipped from her reach, her final chance of salvation snatched away.
Her struggle became a blur as the roar of the waterfall grew deafeningly loud. The world tilted, her vision filled with the churn and froth of the waterfall’s edge.
It might as well be the edge of her world.
Laurel took a deep breath as she plunged over the waterfall, her scream swallowed by the thunderous sound of the cascading water.
Max watched in horror as Laurel disappeared into the dark, carried away by the merciless torrent.
Walker pulled her on toward the bank, but Max resisted. “We have to go in after her.”
“We can’t. We’ll only get pulled in, too.” He pointed at the boulders alongside. “But she might have found a way onto the bank. If we stay out of the water, we might be able to get to her.”
Max’s arm throbbed painfully in response to the tussle, the once intense burn now spreading into a cold numbness that was beginning to creep up her shoulder.
Her strength was waning — but they had to go after Laurel. She might be clinging to the bank just out of sight. The librarian had helped both Max and Walker, and they owed her this.
“Can you manage?” Walker’s concerned gaze took in the pallor of her face and the tremor in her clenched fist.
Max nodded. “You go in front. I’ll follow behind.”
Walker edged precariously along the rugged bank of the river, clambering over treacherous rocks slick with river algae along the water’s edge. Max stayed as close behind as she could, using her good arm to brace against boulders while holding the injured one close to her chest.
A silver flash rippled through the water just metres away.
Max flinched back with a sharp intake of breath — but it was just the underside of another branch, not the tentacle of the nightmare from the lake.
She hurried after Walker, who was now a little way ahead. In her haste, she slipped on the wet stones and jolted her injured arm. A sharp, biting pain made her clench her teeth, but she would not cry out.
There was no sign of Laurel, so they kept on along the edge of the bank, desperately hoping for some sign of her.
The sound of the waterfall reverberated through the cavern. It grew louder with every step and soon they found themselves on the edge of a precipice.
The thundering river was now a shimmering curtain of water that tumbled into the abyss. The booming roar of the waterfall vibrated through Max’s bones as the spray from the falls created a fine mist that clung to their clothes.
They stood close to the brink and looked down into the frothing white water that seemed to dissolve into spectral mist as it plummeted into the inky darkness below.
21
For Laurel, the fall seemed to last an eternity, the world around her a blur of rushing water and icy terror — until she plunged into the deep pool below the drop.
The impact drove the air from her lungs, and she tumbled in the wash as the pressure of the waterfall kept her submerged.
