Hunt 5: End of Days
Wade was the first to give it a
description. “It looks like the kind of Christmas
tree you’d see on an Iron Maiden album,” he said, pointing at it like a child
pointing at a monkey smearing a banana across the wall.
Cockamamie as it may have sounded,
Luke, RJ, and Dante couldn’t come up with any better way to explain it. It did, indeed, look like a huge Christmas
tree -- one made of metal, and split into four quadrants. Not one of the four boys dared to touch its
“leaves,” mostly because each flat sheet of steel ended in a serrated blade. It lacked a star, but it compensated with a
tip that could skewer a grizzly bear; it didn’t have ornaments, either, but the
platinum skulls engraved on its blades served better than any lights or candy
canes ever could. Naturally it came
without a wooden trunk, but had a wide red base to support it. Very wide, in fact; it could have easily let
an elevator slide up and down its tubing if need be.
RJ raised a hand. “I’d like to make a motion,” he said
tersely. “I would very much like to get
the hell out of here before we find out just what brought this thing into our
town.”
Dante turned towards him. “What happened to ‘for science’ and all
that?”
“Does THAT look like it has
anything to do with science?!” RJ squealed.
He pointed at one of the skulls -- and as if it decided to put on a show,
its empty sockets started to glow, and its jaw opened wide. And it laughed; they could hardly believe
that it kept its jaw hinged, based on how much chortling it did.
The skull stopped laughing after a
minute. The boys stared at it for
another two in complete silence.
Finally, RJ threw up his
hands. “Well, fuck this. I’m going back to sleep.” But before he could take even three steps,
Wade scooped him up in a one-armed bear hug, grinning as RJ lashed his legs
around like noodles.
“So what now?” Luke asked. “Still no Sasquatch -- and now we have this
thing to deal with.”
“You scared?” Dante asked.
“Yes! Yes! A thousand times, YES!” RJ wailed.
“Not talking to you. Besides, I’m not too worried; I got enough
skills between the four of us to handle anything that comes our way.” Refusing to spare any more words (but sad to
bring his boasting to an end), Dante walked toward the steel tree. He stroked his chin and leaned about -- left,
then right, then forward, then right again -- as he inspected it, humming to
himself all the while.
“Well?” Luke asked.
“I have no idea what to do with
this thing,” Dante said coolly.
“Maybe we should try hitting it
with something,” said Wade, moving a bit closer. “I mean, now that I think about it, it kinda
looks like a big harpoon. Only instead
of stabbing a whale, it’s poking Mother Earth.
Seems like the kinda thing that’d piss her off, but hey, maybe she
enjoys it.”
Well,
at least part of that made sense, Luke thought with a discrete
sigh. “Maybe we should touch it. See if there’s a button on there or anything
that’ll…I dunno, turn it on.”
Dante turned a scathing eye toward
Luke. “I don’t touch anything that looks
like a wang,” he reported.
“Seriously?”
“You know it. Why do you think I’ve never eaten a hot
dog? ‘Cause I can’t picture any
self-respecting man wanting to eat a food that looks like another man’s happy
stick. That’s just common courtesy.”
Luke just stared blankly at Dante
for a while. For a moment he thought
about suggesting that Dante’s…preference was just a result of a dirty mind, but
he decided against it. “All right, then I’ll touch it.” He walked toward the harpoon, and tapped his
bat against the blades. One tap, two
taps, then three; each hit sent a chirpy ping through the crags’ interior. “Yoo-hoo!
Anybody home?” he asked cheerily.
RJ -- finally -- calmed down, and
Wade set him onto his feet. “I don’t
think that’s going to do it,” he said, his voice still an octave too high, but
at least he could walk under his own power.
“Maybe you should try something else.”
“Like what?”
“Ummm…actually, I may have
something that can help.” He slipped a
hand into his jacket and fumbled about.
“Yes. Yes, this should definitely
be able to handle the task. Yes…then
we’ll all be happy as can be.”
“Since when is RJ happy?” Wade
wondered aloud.
RJ didn’t answer. His face started to contort, little by little
-- it took the shape of something between a grin, a grimace, and the gaze of a
teary-eyed schoolgirl. “I’m happiest
when I’m safe and sound!”
Dante pointed at RJ. “Whoa.
I know that pose -- RJ, did you bring a gun with you?” he asked, using
the same tone as he would when asking if a dog had fleas. “Where’d you get a gun?”
“RJ wouldn’t bring a gun with him,”
said Luke. “Guns are way too
dangerous. And loud. And I bet they’re expensive, too.”
“They are, I think,” Wade chimed
in. “And then you gotta buy bullets, and
a holster, and a cowboy hat and a pancho…THAT’S where they get ya, with all the
accessori-”
“Hey! HEY!
Take me seriously!” RJ cried -- literally
cried, thanks to the teardrops gathering in the corners of his eyes.
“You’re asking a lot out of us,
buddy,” said Dante.
“Enough idle banter! It’s time for you all to come to your
senses!” RJ pulled his hand out of his jacket; between each of his fingers, he
held a slew of green balls. But not for
long. With a frenzied yell, he threw
them at the ground.
Only then did the others realize
what RJ brought to the field. They
weren’t just balls, or even steel balls, or even super bouncing balls. They were smoke bombs -- and they spewed
hefty clouds all over the floor.
“RJ, what the shit?” Dante yelled
over the haze. “You made smoke bombs?!”
“Why wouldn’t I? It seemed like an excellent idea!” RJ -- just like the others -- coughed
repeatedly thanks to the smoke clogging their throats. “I was right.
I DID make the odor too strong.
If only I had my gas mask…”
Luke swept his bat a few times,
hoping to clear out some of the smoke.
Somehow, he managed to get a few feet of clear air -- enough to breathe,
and just enough to see a bit more of the cavern. “RJ, why don’t you just calm down a bit? We can talk this out; there’s no need to --”
He could hardly bring himself to
finish, partly out of another coughing fit, and partly because he had to summon
all his willpower to stifle laughter. RJ
had tried to escape, but he didn’t get far.
He’d started scrambling up the walls -- or at least tried to, his nails
scraping and slipping across solid rock.
“Science, give me strength!” he yelled…only to have his body slide back
down the wall. “Science, why have you
forsaken me?!”
Didn’t
we come down from a staircase? Luke wondered. Well, I
guess getting nervous will make you do some crazy things. With the smoke clearing, he shifted his
flashlight about, stopping on a few points along the wall. Actually, he could kind of see why RJ would
resort to climbing: he had trouble seeing the pathway back. As in, the pathway had vanished
entirely. “RJ? Don’t panic, okay?”
“Oh, really? REALLY, Luke?
You say that NOW?”
“I think we’re going to have a hard
time getting back home.”
“Well I could’ve figured that out,”
said Wade.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because there’s no floor under us
anymore.” He pointed to his feet. “Dude.
You didn’t notice?”
Well, now he did. As did Dante and RJ. The last of the smoke had cleared, revealing
the harpoon once more -- a harpoon, with its skulls glowing in an earnest
crimson. The earth under their feet had
faded, leaving little more than a lattice of red wires; spiraling, sashaying
things, like a doodle out of a goth’s notebook.
They didn’t want to think about what lied before it, but they didn’t
have much of a choice. They’d all looked
down long beforehand.
They all saw the pitch black pit below. A pit miles and miles and miles deep.
Dante looked toward RJ. “I don’t suppose you happened to build a few
grappling hooks, did you MacGuyver?”
RJ managed to stop whimpering just
enough to glare at Dante. But before he
could break into a flurry of panicked swears, Wade brought up a very important
question.
“What happens if these wire things
give out on us?”
Luke looked to the harpoon
hurriedly. “That thing’s stretching into
the pit. Maybe we should grab onto it?”
“I told you, I’m not touching that
thing,” Dante snapped. His body gave a
quick shudder. “Just thinking about it
makes me --”
“So you’d rather fall into a pit
and die?”
“Well, I’m glad one of us said it.”
“Dante, come on. Just swallow your pride and grab that thing,
or you’re gonna --”
But Luke didn’t get to finish that
sentence. Nor could Dante fire off
another quip, or RJ another wail, or Wade an inquiry on if anyone else wanted
some potato salad. Because right then
and there, the wires gave out with a crackling fizzle.
And that sent all of them tumbling
into the pit. Falling to their deaths in
absolute darkness.
“Seriously, some potato salad would
be good right now,” Wade’s voice echoed.
He’d chosen his last words well.
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