Entry tags:
Krampus Plot, part IV
She crawled out of the tent on her hands and knees, gritting her teeth. The ground was hard packed dirt, and the air smelled clean and fresh. It was dark, and they were under a brilliant desert night sky.
"Oh, Ichabod. Look."
"Oh, Ichabod. Look."
no subject
Yeah, nobody tells Alex to play second fiddle. Injury or not, it just doesn't work that way.
"Which way do you think?"
no subject
"Forward", he says with a slight shrug. "Sticking close to the tent will do us no good, and it stands to reason the way back lies ahead... somehow."
no subject
"Right. That looks like a path. Damn it, I wish I'd thought to pick up a torch." She tucks the 9mm in the back of her jeans, and sets off at a cautious pace.
They don't really need the light, as the moon overhead is brilliant and full. There are a few Joshua trees here and there, and the landscape is peppered with huge sandstone boulders. The shadows they cast are long and sharp in the moonlight, and she tends to give them a wide berth.
"Have you ever been to the American desert before?"
no subject
"No", he admits. "I was generally in New York and the surrounding regions. I never came this far south - or west, for that matter."
no subject
no subject
"Oh? Do tell."
He's half-listening, half paying close attention to their surroundings.
no subject
"But this... Neither one of us has ever been to the American Southwest. I'm trying to anticipate what we might be facing."
no subject
"So this is... perhaps something the creature knows, in some way", he guesses. "Or... oh, no."
no subject
"Ichabod? Talk to me."
no subject
"Turn around", he says - almost hisses, really. "Very, very slowly. It hasn't seen us yet."
From behind her, something clicks on the stony ground.
no subject
She pivots, slowly, holding her breath.
The 'It' in question is the size of a small dog. It's black and shiny and segmented, with two sharp claws and a tail suspended in the air over its back.
"Bloody hell."
She freezes, eyes wide as saucers.
"Okay? Now what."
no subject
"We shoot it?" he suggests hopefully. "Although perhaps we should first try to establish if there are any more..."
no subject
She's whispering, which is ridiculous but she is.
"Can you see any others?"
no subject
"Not as of now, but I wouldn't like to say there are none."
He finds himself whispering too.
no subject
She backs towards him, gesturing him farther down the path.
"Just walk. Slowly. Quietly. Maybe we can... oh god..."
There's another behind another boulder, and another clicking passed, on important scorpion business.
no subject
"Slowly and quietly", he agrees, trying to force himself to keep calm. "Have I mentioned I dislike scorpions?"
no subject
Alex swallows, her mouth gone dry as dust. She glances up the canyon.
"Back to back?"
no subject
He nods agreement and moves quietly into position, then begins moving up the canyon, making sure their paces are matched.
no subject
"So, I see four on that side, and five over there. How many over there?"
no subject
"...Two, I think", he says quietly, peering. "Unless more are concealed by the rocks, but I count only two."
no subject
They slip farther down the canyon, the ground sloping gently downward. The farther they go, the deeper into shadow they have to go.
"I can't see anything up ahead. Stop for a moment. I want to listen."
They pause, and she holds her breath. There's the clicking of the scorpions they can see. And then there's the clicking of the scorpions they can't see.
And then there's the scrape CLACK of something much, much larger, emanating from a deep cut a few yards up slope to their left.
"Ichabod."
no subject
"I heard it." His voice is tense. "I think we should stay as far as possible to the right, don't you? And pray that it can't see in the dark."
no subject
The scrape CLACK stops for a moment, and then picks up again. A behemoth of a shadow creeps out from the edge of the canyon. The silhouette of a claw catches in the moonlight, and it's easily two metres long.
"Stay calm, Alex. Just go slowly. Quietly."
no subject
Ichabod seems to be struggling not to hyperventilate, with mixed success.
"Suddenly I find myself regretting the lack of edged weapons."
no subject
Alex stumbles and nearly goes down, and all the clicking in the immediate vicinity stops. The silence is deafening.
"Get ready to run..."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)