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Dave awoke to a feeling that he was breathing thick soup. The smells, although similar to what he had smelled in the Okefenokee, were sufficiently distinctive that he knew he had been transported to the sister black swamp oak in Abaddon. Trembling, he spread the branches and looked around. No dangers appeared to be present. The light was subdued, like twilight at home, but his sight was sufficiently keen that he saw island after island surrounded by peat-stained water.
Stiff because of his cramped sleep, he climbed down. His tree was on the slope of a tiny island. At the crest of the small island was a large tree with horizontal branches starting about twenty paces up the stem. He looked carefully at his black swamp oak. Initials had very recently been carved into the trunk: “FL/TC/DL.”
Linder’s always thinking. The last thing we need is to wander away and forget which black swamp oaks brought us here. It looks like they all arrived together, thank the Lord.
Dave looked around hoping to see at least one of his friends, but there was no one in sight. He strapped on Gram, tied his bow and quiver to his pack, and then shouldered the load. Still no sign of Arlana or Thomas. Disappointed, he tried his opera-bird whistle, hoping to alert Arlana or one of the others that he was here.
He heard a rustle behind him. On a neighboring islet, Arlana’s head appeared. She smiled as she saw him. Hanomer climbed off her lap and down the short tree trunk, scanning the swamp for danger, his bow ready. After looking carefully to the base of the tree for a few seconds, Arlana also climbed down with her pack and weapons. She walked toward Dave as he approached her. Ten paces of water separated them. The water was so brown that Dave could not see more than a few inches into its depth, but he thought he saw the shadow of a large creature glide under the surface. The water rippled at its passage.
“Don’t try to cross,” he warned.
Arlana nodded and said, “Any sign of the others? Where’s Thomas?”
“No sign of Linder, Chartrand, or Larsen, but I found all of their initials at the base of my black swamp oak.” Dave called Thomas by name. To his relief, he saw him climb out of a bulbous black swamp oak on a third island.
Arlana climbed part way up the hillock again, and presently called back, “This swamp oak also has all three initials, and a note from Linder.”
How are we going to get together, thought Dave, with these large creatures prowling the depths?
“Friend Dave,” called Hanomer, “look up at the trees that grow up out of the center of each island. They grow their branches together.”
Dave looked up. Hanomer was right. It was almost as if they formed a terrace or platform of horizontal branches. Dave climbed to the highest point of his island, where he could see a large tree, about three paces in diameter with smooth grey bark, rising straight up. Moving closer to the tree, he saw that in the bark were curious helical indentations. By putting his toes into one of the indentations as a foothold, Dave found he had enough purchase that he could walk up the helical ramp by holding onto the indentations as the helix circled the tree above his head. In this way he soon reached the platform of branches. The platform stretched off in three compass directions as far as the eye could see in the vaporous gloom, but behind him, about two hundred paces distant, it ended in a rock wall, which marked the southern border of the swamp.
Dave identified the tree that formed the centre of Arlana’s hillock and walked towards it. Above the platform, the terrace trees looked normal, with branches bending upward at irregular intervals. A profusion of vines ran from tree to tree. Holding on to these, and proceeding slowly, Dave completed the short traverse to the next hillock where Arlana and Hanomer were waiting for him. From there, Dave led the way to Thomas’ tree. The branches that girdled the tree on level with the platform were so dense that they made a floor, so the four sat down to consider Linder’s note.
Dave and Arlana:
Al was not here when we arrived. However, he left a note saying he had found some clues, which had been dropped by Pam, to show the direction she had been taken. Apparently, they were taken roughly north by northeast in a direct line. Al decided to follow, since he believed time was critical. He’s going to leave us sets of three slash marks as trail blazes to help us follow his footsteps. If he loses Pam and the others, he told us he would retrace his steps.
The three of us decided to follow him. We’re going to try to use these funny trees to get out of the swamp. Stay out of the water! The water between the islands is deep and seems to harbor some large aquatic creatures. I wouldn’t trust them. One of them went for me, when I bent over to wash my face.
We’ll follow Al north by northeast. We’ll wait for you at the edge of the swamp if we get back before you arrive.
Floyd, (Tom and Dwight)
“I guess we’d better get moving,” said Dave.
They tied a rope to each other with Hanomer leading, followed by Arlana, Thomas and finally, Dave, acting as the anchor. Hanomer was in his natural element and walked to the next tree as if he were strolling on a sidewalk. Arlana also had exceptional balance, and did not seem to be frightened by the height or the prospect of slipping into the water.
Thomas was tentative, and took his time crossing to the next tree. Fortunately, there were many finger-thick vines slung between the two trees, which provided handholds.
When it came to Dave’s turn, sweat began to bead on his face as he remembered his old fear of heights.
Funny, when I was anxious to see that Arlana was safe, I didn’t think about the danger at all as I crossed to her island without a rope.
He called across to Hanomer to wrap the rope around a branch in case he slipped. Hanomer did so, and Dave crossed gingerly.
Other than the large creatures in the brown, peat-stained water, there were almost no animals to be seen—either in the trees or on the islands. When he did see the occasional squirrel or bird, each fled in fear as the group approached.
This swamp is uncanny. I was expecting all kinds of snakes and alligators, and yet it seems so empty of animal life. I wonder if those aquatic creatures kill off anything that comes down to drink?
After crossing the first gap between the trees, Dave’s confidence rose. Their rate of progress increased as the traverse from tree to tree settled down to a routine. After several kilometers, the light began to increase. They were leaving the shadow of the southern wall, and the size of the trees was also diminishing.
Dave called a halt and the group rested briefly on a terrace platform near the central stem of a particularly large tree. Arlana was standing, looking ahead. “I think I can see the edge of the swamp a few hundred paces away,” she said, “but there’s a curtain of white objects hanging from the trees. Almost like fruit or decorations. I can’t make out what they are.”
Dave jumped to his feet, filled with foreboding. He looked in the direction Arlana was pointing and saw the curious objects, but didn’t know what they were either. Opening his pack, he took out a pair of binoculars.
“Oh no,” he said.
He handed the binoculars to Arlana. She gasped.
“Let’s get moving,” he said.
They moved forward with renewed urgency, because of what the binoculars had revealed.
Dave, dreading that something was approaching from behind, looked over his shoulder as they moved, his imagination generating images of horrific monsters swinging through the trees, their jaws dripping with blood,
Finally, they reached the last terrace tree. It was covered with human skulls, hanging like Christmas ornaments. There seemed to be hundreds of them.
But as they looked left and right to the surrounding trees, they saw that there were, in fact, thousands.