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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."
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"Aw, don't go! You just got here! Come and meet the children! Stay for supper!"
Alex doesn't even want to look back, she just hurls herself into the darkness head, more falling than running as her feet fly over the broken ground. She holds tight to Ichabod's hand and prays.
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A shudder runs through him and his hand shakes in hers, just for a moment, before he focuses only on running.
"Almost there..."
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The behemoth had slammed bodily into the canyon wall, almost taking the mountain down with it.
Alex sprawled on the far wall, turning back to look over Ichabod's shoulder, expecting to see the swarm boiling through after them.
There was nothing there. The wall was smooth. Featureless. And she could tell because there was a torch in a wall sconce right where it should have been.
She sinks down to the floor, breathing like a race horse, one hand curled around her aching ribs. "I'm never eating lobster again!"
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He drops bonelessly beside her.
"I suspect neither will I. And I had already sworn to avoid scorpions for the rest of my life."
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She puts a hand on his shoulder.
"You took a nasty spill, are you all right?"
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"Honestly, I hadn't taken time to check. But nothing broken, I think."
He didn't feel anything particularly painful as he ran.
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She sticks her boots out in front of her. There's a nasty hole right through the toe of one of them, pierced clean through the sole.
"Ohhh," she whines. "I liked these boots."
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"No stings I can feel - I'll get you a new pair." She did increase her danger for him. "It missed your foot?"
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She wiggles her toes.
"All in working order. Did you remember to pack the sandwiches?"
She's teasing, clearly.
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"It's the least I can do." He makes an exaggeratedly apologetic face. "Regrettably not, and I don't suppose there's any food to be found here. Our host is most inconsiderate."
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She's trying very hard not to think about Gene, and how he's probably going out of his mind with worry. The thought won't leave her alone.
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"There's no way of knowing. But I think, perhaps, we should take the opportunity of nothing chasing us to rest a while?"
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She may be fishing the bottle of paracetamol out of her own pocket.
"I feel like I could sleep for a week. Should we take turns watching, maybe get some real rest?"
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"Yes." He fishes it out and hands it over, having kept most of it out of habit. He knows how to survive in the wild. "I think so. Not for too long, but enough to refresh us a little."
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"Yeah." She doesn't care that the ground is hard and cold. She pokes his bony shoulder a few times, like fluffing a pillow.
"Call me when room service gets here."
With that, she puts her head on his shoulder, and is out like a light.
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He eyes her as she prods him, vaguely amused, but doesn't object.
And then he just sits very still, sharply alert, and waits for her to wake up - and never makes a single move to make it happen, turns or no turns.
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"You were supposed to wake me up. Go on, then. Get some rest."
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"I feel fine", he says stubbornly. "Quite well rested, and ready to explore."
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It's said with affection. She levers herself to one hip and then her hands and knees. It's slow, and painful, but she manages, balancing with one hand on the wall.
"Let's find a way out of this place. I'm tired and I want to go home."
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"I quite agree. Home, and to the best hot baths Milliways can provide."
He stands up a little stiffly.
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She takes the torch out of the sconce and holds it up, looking around for any signs or symbols that might indicate a direction they're suppose to take.
The question is easily solved when she discovers a dead end only a few paces away from where they'd collapsed.
"Not this way." She pivots on her heel and points back the other direction.
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"Well, that was simple." There's only one torch, and Alex has it, so he follows. "Hopefully all such decisions will match it."
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She does eventually pass the torch to him.
"Does any of this look familiar to you?"
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Ichabod peers at it in the flickering light.
"Not particularly. Some of it might be old German, but there again it might not."
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She keeps walking, slower now than before. She's clearly feeling the effects of the last few hours? Days? It's been so long, she couldn't tell how much time had passed.
"Though this still isn't as much of a Labyrinth as the Library was."
They do come to a right angle turn, and there's a dim light at the end of the tunnel.
"Is that -- oh God, I don't want to get my hopes up. Is that a door out?"
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