Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Laura: Now

     The girl from the truck stood shakily to her feet and would have toppled over again had Laura not reached forward and steadied her. She could feel the girl trembling. The numbness in Laura's arm and shoulder began to fade replaced with a deepening pain but she was relieved to find she could still move the limb. Working quickly Laura removed the tape from the girl's mouth and began to loosen the cords binding her hands. While she worked Pamela recited the same greeting and introduction from before reminding Laura of a prerecorded message on an answering machine. Laura assumed the lady was in shock, probably the others as well. She was likely in shock herself although she found that inside her mind there was a stubborn voice that refused to be afraid. That Laura wasn't intimidated or desperate. The Laura speaking inside wasn't in shock; that Laura was angry, furious. As her eyes drifted across the faces of the broken women Laura felt the rage growing from embers into a raging flame. The trucker would pay. Somehow she would make him pay. Nothing gave him a right to do this. She looked at frail Nancy sitting now with her skeletal arms crossed over her narrow chest and Laura made up her mind: she was going to get them out of this cellar, regardless of the cost. Even if it meant her death, she would get them out. 

     The girl standing before them now was tall with straight black hair that hung curtain-like down to her waist. She was dressed expensively in a charcoal-gray business suit which was now darkened in places with dried blood. She told them her name was Wanda Lawson. The trucker had captured her and her friend Maria two days before when he offered to help them change a flat tire. The man had unexpectedly wheeled around smashing the tire iron into Maria's temple before turning to Wanda and forcing her into the back of the big rig. Laura gathered that the dead woman in the truck had been this Maria and that the tire iron may well have been the same instrument the trucker had used to subdue her at the gas station. The women, with the exception of the unnamed lady in the corner, sat on the dusty floor encircling the small lamp and each in turn told how they had come to be in the cellar. The stories were mostly the same and all of the women had been brought to the cabin in the back of the truck and shoved down the chute. Laura learned that before she arrived there had been three other victims. The trucker had entered the room through a locked door in the corner of the room that Laura hadn't previously noticed. He had burst into the cellar with a cattle prod crackling in his hand shocking each of them many times until all were left writhing on the floor. Then he had caught one of the three and drug them by their hair from the room, bolting the door behind when he left. The next day he had returned for another, and again on the third day. Now Laura understood the bruising on the battered arms and faces of the captives. The angry voice in her head spoke up again and Laura formed a plan.

Clancy: Now

     The dragon stood in the torchlit chamber grinning hideously. Clancy stood before the statue that towered over him, nine foot tall at least, studying its carved features. Instantly recognizing the glaring, almond-shaped human eyes and the thin slope of the dragon's nose, the mouth filled with sharply pointed teeth. The body of the creature while still covered with scales was now far more human in anatomy, having arms terminating in long-fingered hands and two very human legs. Stone serpents, coated in a red glaze and resembling the snake he had just witnessed crawling from out of the darkness, were coiled around the figure's legs and waist forming a serpentine loin cloth and boots. The body itself was carved from a dark volcanic stone of a rough texture save for the face which seemed to be made of polished bronze inset with ruby eyes. Clancy paused long enough to take a photo and then taking a torch from the wall, he passed by the beast and into a long corridor behind it. Referring back to the drawing he had retrieved off the dead woman, Clancy was almost certain the rectangular shape in the center represented the room he had just left. 

     He continued forward and as he walked he became aware of a low rumbling sound. Up ahead the tunnel took a sharp turn to the right and led Clancy to the shore of a large body of water. The black surface of the water was still and unbroken and Clancy could see a bone-white strip of land on the other side and somewhere in the distance beyond, the source of the rumbling. Some sixth sense alerted Clancy just soon enough to turn and see that the hooded figures had silently made there way down the ladder and were pouring out of the mouth of the corridor knives in hand. He jumped to one side narrowly sidestepping a swipe from the nearest and lifting his camera from his neck by its strap, Clancy swung it at the figure's head. The hood slid to the side revealing a teaming mass of insects: roaches, spiders, and centipedes erupted in a cloud and rained down the figure's pale shoulders. Clancy turned and leaped into the water finding it only waist deep and began to make his way to the opposite side. Looking behind he saw the hooded corpses lining the shore and witnessed the many crawling creatures he had scattered already beginning to reform the head of the one he had hit. He was still close enough to see a fat, brown scorpion crawl into position in the center of its face where a nose should be. Then his feet stepped into nothingness and he fell. The black waters washed over his face and as he swam to regain the surface  Clancy felt icy fingers wrap tightly around his ankle and drag him further down into the abyss.