Reid has nowhere to go. The lit lip of the tunnel is so narrow he is mostly in the dark, his back facing the approaching creatures. He tries to turn, slips, his sneakers losing traction on the skinny bit of ledge, sending a cascade of pebbles and dust down the quiet shaft. He has no time to think up a plan, no recourse. Either he falls or the creatures eat him alive.
On his knees, Reid’s desperate hands grip the outside edge of the shaft wall as he searches for something, anything that could save him. As he does, something grabs his foot and squeezes. Reid’s yell is hoarse with fear as he kicks hard. Whatever held him flies off with a muffled yelping cry. Reid spins around so he is sitting on the edge of the ledge, his legs in the dark and holds on to the shaft with both hands as he thrashes out into the dark tunnel with his feet. Again and again he feels contact, catches grunts and whimpers.
He finally stops kicking, panting his panic, hearing tuned to only the shaft. He can still pick out the occasional skitter and screech but they sound distant. He has bought himself some time.
Now, what to do with it? Reid leans out and looks up. He can just make out the bottom of the elevator and the growing sound of yelling from above. Not an attack. If the hunters are there, they should be screaming in terror. And probably be dead by now. So they are fighting among themselves. And Reid has a good idea who is in the middle of it.
So, no elevator rescue. But he can’t stay here. The creatures are getting closer, he can hear them inching forward again. He thrashes around with his feet for a full ten seconds, counting each one before glancing sideways to look down.
That glance saves him. As he shifts position, his body opens more of the tunnel to light. Because of it, he catches the glitter of eyes in his peripheral vision. A creature sails out of the dark directly at him, giant mouth wide open, teeth glittering as it soars into view. Reid screams and strikes out, his wrapped right hand impacting the furred black ball and sending it spinning with a high-pitched shriek into the open shaft behind him.
Reid scrambles for the knife in his pocket, flipping it open as he watches the creature fall to the bottom of the hole, impacting with a cartoonish puff of dust. He only has time to flinch as the second one attacks him. This time he lashes out with the blade, slashing across the thing’s gaping mouth. Hot blood sprays over Reid’s face as the second critter joins the first.
When more swarm his legs, Reid’s terror reclaims control of him. He is a screaming, thrashing dervish, striking out with the blade, kicking with his feet. He feels one bite his thigh but he is moving when it attacks so it only rips his pants and grazes the skin. It dies as he cuts it and sweeps it out through the hole.
This time when they back off, Reid doesn’t wait to collect himself. He has to act. He takes another look down, wondering if he would survive the fall. Only that possible way out is no longer possible.
The hunter who chased him has returned. It springs lightly up the wall toward him, eyes fixed on his, grinning face eager. Reid is caught between his desire to hide in the tunnel and take his chances with the creatures and the knowledge that such a move will mean his death. But, he has no choice, he’s seen the hunters move and knows it’s only a matter of seconds before the hunter reaches him.
He is stunned and suddenly exuberant when the hunter’s second grab at the wall fails. The sharp claws rake over the stone, making a horrible noise that sends shudders through Reid’s body, but there obviously isn’t enough for it to hang onto. It falls, snarling and spitting its rage.
Reid laughs down at it, voice hoarse. “That the best you can do?”
The hunter stills, glances at the cables. It looks up at him again, grin returning. But Reid already knows it won’t make it. Not with those claws in the way. Still, it tries, talons sliding free, sending sparks from the corded metal wire. Again it expresses its unhappiness vocally.
He’s able to ignore it now and focus on his own escape. Seeing the hunter try to climb the wire has assured him it’s not something he is willing to try. He can picture himself sliding all the way to the bottom and into the thing’s waiting grasp.
Instead, its failure has given him an idea. Desperately, as the sounds of skittering return, he looks up. The walls aren’t flawless, but seem to have generous handholds. Or, at least they would be if he weren’t so injured. Healthy he knows he could make the climb to the top no problem. Hurt as he is, starving and with both hands suffering serious injury, he’s pretty sure he can’t. But he is out of options. He can’t get down and wouldn’t even if it was an option. And from the sounds of the continued arguing coming from above, he’s not getting any help from his friends.
That leaves trying to climb. The idea terrifies him. Reid has never been afraid of heights but he’s also never been in a situation like this one before.
The sound of the creatures falls still. He knows they are close, hovering, no longer willing to attack but content, it seems, to wait him out. Reid has to act.
He finds a crack next to the tunnel and drives the blade of the knife into it as deeply as he can. Reid draws a quick breath, knowing if it doesn’t hold he is dead one way or another. He hesitates one last moment, breathing in short gasps, caught between three horrible scenarios and not sure he’s taking the right one.
The creatures make his mind up for him. One of them springs right at him, driving him backward, committing to the motion, swinging out and putting all his weight on the knife.
The furry ball screams its way to the bottom. Reid looks down, heart on overload, to see the hunter dodge to the side, letting the creature die on impact. Chittering and snarling draws his attention back to the lip of the tunnel where several creatures hover just on the edge of the darkness, their gleaming teeth bared at him as they shuffle and shove for position.
The hunter calls out, the sound traveling up the shaft and driving a spike through Reid’s fear. His hands are on fire again but his terror is stronger than his pain. He looks sideways, sees a place to grip and reaches for it. His sneakers scramble for purchase, locate imperfections, just enough to hold him up. Reid pants against the stone wall, resting his forehead against it. When he pulls back there is a wet blotch where his panicked sweat has darkened the rock.
Reid looks down again, sees the hunter’s continued efforts to reach him. The things claws may not be designed for climbing but Reid is sure it will figure out a way eventually. He has to move.
There is only one direction for him. Up. But climbing is a particular kind of torture. Hanging onto the bottom of the cage was hard enough, causing him so much pain he was sure he wouldn’t keep his hold. He jerks the knife free, almost dislodging himself from his precarious place. It sends shafts of lancing pain through his hand but he refuses to let the blade go.
Forcing his injured hands to move, to support him while his feet feel for a place to grip, is so excruciating Reid finds himself stopping for more and more frequent rests, often after only climbing a foot or two.
A protruding chunk of rebar makes a secure hold. Reid’s right sneaker finds an exposed bit of wooden beam, giving him a safer place to rest. He closes the knife and puts it back in his pocket, not wanting to lose it and knowing he is damaging the blade using it this way.
He looks up. The elevator is getting closer, if slowly, and he finds himself suddenly hoping they don’t send it for him after all. He hadn’t considered that someone might win the argument and try to rescue him.
No worries there. The motor remains silent, the cage still. Reid continues on.
Sweat drips into his eyes, stinging him, making him blink over and over as the bottom of the mesh wavers in his watery vision. He looks down again, despite telling himself he won’t, and sees two of the furry creatures throw themselves into the light, up toward him, only to plummet to their deaths. They remind him of something, though he can’t think of what or why. He’s never seen anything like them before.
The hunter has finally stopped trying, only stares at Reid, hunger apparent, pacing back and forth at the bottom of the shaft. It grunts softly at him from time to time, almost like an angry gorilla, before turning to face the room below and howl its terrifying cry.
Reid gathers the last of his energy and does the only thing he can.
He climbs.
***