Under snake island, p.22
Under Snake Island, page 22
And when his hands formed stone around her throat, she could not escape. Saulo, now a horrified statue staring into nothing, toppled over, dragging Marcela with him. She looked Elisabeth in the eye, a pained expression on her face—and not at all from Saulo’s chokehold.
Marcela and the statue went over the side, falling so fast they disappeared from sight almost at once. Elisabeth wanted to feel sad, she wanted a moment to process what had just happened, but the monsters charged.
Up came the spear—she held it over the edge just as Saulo had, and hoped it worked better for her than it had for him.
“Back!” she screamed. “Get back! I’ll drop it, I swear I’ll do it!” Though they couldn’t understand her words, they understood her fervor, and slowly backtracked. This left a small opening for Malcolm and Duncan to join her.
“We’re moving as a unit,” said Malcolm. “Lizzy, you keep them back and we’ll make sure you don’t fall to your death.”
“Okay,” she said, just as someone laced their fingers in her belt loop.
The monsters reversed their direction. Each time the spiders or snakes moved too close, their respective masters growled and returned them to the invisible line.
“What’s our plan?” Malcolm whispered. He tugged her backwards as she kept the monsters at bay.
“To the house,” she said. “We take one of the portals.”
“To where?” Duncan asked.
“To anywhere but here.”
It was slow, but they made it back to the edge of the holey obsidian. Elisabeth glanced over her shoulder—the house was only ten meters away.
“We have a problem,” said Duncan. Elisabeth knew right away what he meant.
With the ground becoming solid, there was no way to drop the spear. The monsters would overwhelm them and take it once they no longer feared losing it.
“Stop,” said Elisabeth, just before moving past the last hole. The unit came to an abrupt halt. “You two go on ahead.”
“You can’t be serious, Lizzy,” said Duncan.
“Go. I’ll hold them here. Be ready to go through the portal. I’d rather they have one target than three.”
“This is madness,” Malcolm said. “Give me the spear and you run.”
“No,” she said. “No one else gets to die for me.”
She sensed a sigh from both of them. Malcolm leaned in, his breath by her ear. He kissed her on the cheek. “Be safe, lass. And hurry.”
She nodded, her attention never leaving the trio of monsters. Malcolm and Duncan darted off, their feet kicking up loose stones on the obsidian. Her gaze remained on the monsters only until she was certain her friends made it inside the house.
They stared at her with such hate. The only thing separating her from a horrible death was their most important weapon.
Elisabeth took a few deep breaths, turned her body, and backed until her feet left the holey obsidian. She hoped they didn’t just fear losing the weapon, but also worried about its pierce. The moment she stood on solid ground, she found her answer.
They launched toward her.
She broke into a sprint toward the house, the spear tucked close to her side. The monsters made violent noises of surprise and anger. It all created an awful cacophony—Medusa’s slithering tail, Arachne’s clicking legs, and Hephaestus’ lumbered breaths. They were closing fast. She didn’t think she could make it.
As she rushed through the door, she thought an invisible barrier had stopped her dead in her tracks. But something snapped in front of her and she stumbled in where Duncan and Malcom received her. In her hand, the spear had broken off, leaving her with only the tip and a forearm’s length of handle.
The boys had pried the lanterns from the walls and tossed them out behind her, the glass shattering on the ground. A wall of green fire ripped across the threshold, buying them but a few seconds’ worth of distance.
Duncan held the flip-lighter he found in the workshop, the flame weak but burning. Malcolm pulled her back toward the hearth, to the tapestries.
“Where to?” he asked, just as Hephaestus stepped through the fire and entered the house.
“There,” Elisabeth said, pointing to the room that looked neither lair nor island. She would be content with that.
Duncan lit the tassels along the bottom of the tapestry on fire. Like the others they’d burned at Bethel, this one was so old and brittle that flames bloomed almost at once.
“Go,” Malcolm said, and wasted no time hurrying through. Elisabeth faced the monsters, now crowding into the house. Hephaestus held the broken shaft of the spear.
Elisabeth and Duncan hurried through while they still had time, the flame licking at the edges of the fabric as she hopped across.
Snake Island
They stood in a small, wooden room with a rickety staircase to the left. Although everything looked dated, it was nowhere near as ancient as where they’d been, meaning the gods and monsters didn’t make this place.
Duncan tried the doorknob. Locked. He and Malcolm put their shoulders against the wood and shoved. It was sturdy. Each time they connected, the lock on the other side bounced. Elisabeth even tried the spear tip, but it was no use. The weapon was meant for killing gods, not beating down oak.
“Where are we, chaps?” Elisabeth asked, feeling claustrophobic and a little rushed. The monsters probably had another route out of the lair—one that deposited them close by.
“Up there,” Duncan said, pointing to the steps. “I see light.”
She hurried up to the top. Malcolm arrived first and scanned all that lay below him. He said, “Oh, for fuck’s sake. We’re still here.”
They were inside the lighthouse.
A half-sun lazed in the distance, shimmering across the green water. Far out, a boat coasted by the island.
Below, most of their gear was gone, either from the storm or the torrent of snakes. The tent was hooked to the dilapidated dock, blowing in the light wind. Medical supplies, rations, and gear lay scattered all over the island. The pricy mobile cell tower lay on its side, broken into pieces. Without it, they’d never get a call out.
“Do you think we could climb down?” she asked.
Duncan shook his head. “We’ve got no gear. Nothing on the smooth stone to hold onto. I don’t fancy surviving a bunch of Greek myths just to break my neck.”
“Well, we can’t stay here forever,” said Elisabeth. “My brother knows where I am. But by the time he’d find us, it would be too late.”
“Then why’d you even tell him?” Duncan asked.
She shrugged. “I was more concerned with him finding my body than rescuing me.”
Malcolm shook his head at her absurdity. “How do you feel, lass?”
She hadn’t thought about it until now. The last half an hour had been awful, plain nerve-wracking.
“Actually . . . I feel good. I feel . . . fine.”
Duncan said, “I’d say so. You got your ailment removed.”
“Oh . . . I guess you’re right.”
This year’s sickness, the coughing, the wheezing, the bloody phlegm—all because Arachne had somehow put an egg inside her. An egg that became her.
“I don’t understand how this happened.”
“I think I do,” Malcolm said. “I think the egg is what turned people into those enormous spiders. When she wrapped up someone, those spiders stayed inside, like a virus. And it changed them.”
Elisabeth nodded. “And you unwrapped me before I could change. So the egg just . . . lingered. She had a failsafe for dying.”
“Yeah. Lucky us,” said Duncan. “We came to kill a monster and ended up bringing one back.”
“Don’t remind me,” said Elisabeth, shaking her head. “All this trouble, all this work. Those people who just wanted to make a quick pound, all dead. But I suppose that’s alright, yeah? They’re just getting a head start on the rest of the world.”
And she could take it no more. She slid down the wall next to the light and buried her face in her hands and wept. Malcolm and Duncan allowed her to have this outburst rather than attempt damage control.
When she finally composed herself, Malcolm said, “Everything’s going to be alright, Lizzy.”
“How? How is going to be alright?”
He and Duncan smiled—it made her furious that they were taking this so well while she had the breakdown she so desperately needed.
Duncan pointed up.
Elisabeth sniffed back tears and followed his finger. A series of holes dotted the top of the lighthouse’s white bricks. She didn’t understand at first what he saw, but then a tiny, spindly body exited a hole and crawled down the brick and disappeared inside a crack.
“A spider!” she said, jumping up and watching, hoping to see it reappear. “Of course, I didn’t think of that!”
Duncan said, “The spider lady is back and so are the spiders. Maybe they’re reseeding the Earth.”
She nodded. “It won’t fix everything, not for this season, but things should start looking up, right?”
Malcolm nodded and stood, his strength wavering. “I would hope so. Maybe we did it, after all, Lizzy. We fixed things.”
She nodded, yet she refused to believe it. Instead, she turned to their immediate situation. “So what’s our plan, gents?”
“No plan,” said Malcolm, “but we’ve got to get someone’s attention.”
“There’s no more paraffin,” Duncan said. “Nothing to light at all.”
“We have to do something. They’re coming for us,” Elisabeth said. “They’re coming for this.” She held up the spear tip, only now it could have passed for a knife.
“Why’d you take it, lass?” said Duncan. “It’s useless to us and important to them.”
“I’m not entirely sure. I gave them back Arachne, so I took their precious toy. I think that makes us square. Maybe I’ll donate it to a museum.”
Duncan started to speak when they heard something outside. Not the monsters, not a snake, but engines and trilling water. It was close—so close that it sounded like it had beached right on the rocks.
Up the steps they ran until they reached the top. Down below, a large white boat idled right on top of where their own WaveSkipper, and the marauders’ boat had been before the snakes scuttled them.
A pair of men in white shirts and khaki pants with shin guards hopped across to the island. They looked at the lighthouse, then pointed up because they could see Malcolm waving his arms.
“Christ, the navy,” he said.
Elisabeth slumped against the wall just as more of them emerged on deck. This was bad. They would be in a lot of trouble—trespassing on a forbidden island, possessing illegal firearms, and possibly, with the right spin, murder of several people. Anything was preferable to dying of thirst or waiting for the monsters to break down the door.
“This is the end, gents,” said Elisabeth. “Shall we decide on our story now?”
Malcolm and Elisabeth sat on the bottom step in front of the door. Duncan still watched the sailors as they trudged up the hill toward the lighthouse.
“We came for the treasure,” said Malcolm. “It’s that simple, and it’s the only thing people will believe.”
Elisabeth nodded. “That’s a better plan than telling the truth.”
A moment later, a deep voice on the other side of the door said, “Can you come out?”
Malcolm said, “Can’t, lad. Seems the door is stuck.”
The men chattered quietly, and then something struck the lock. A few more whacks and Elisabeth heard it fall to the ground. The door yawned open and let in blistering bright light. They were staring down a pair of gun barrels.
The three survivors put up their hands and stood. Elisabeth exited first. She counted six men, all in the stark white shirts of the Brazilian Navy. They looked stern, yet curious. How did they even know people were on the island if the boats had sunk?
“Where’s my brother?” said a voice behind the men.
Elisabeth whirled around, torn between wanting to feel happy and knowing so much awfulness existed between them before she could get to that. She hadn’t seen her in ages—Nadia.
She looked rougher than she sounded on the phone. Large bags under her eyes, wrinkles, hair that had been changed so many times that it left her with black straw atop her head.
“He’s dead,” Elisabeth said, feeling no need to lie about Saulo’s fate.
Nadia seemed to hold back her reaction, then nodded. “This will destroy Marcela.”
Elisabeth looked to her friends, an uneasy glance all three shared.
“She was with him. Here, I mean.”
Nadia shook her head and swiped at her eyes. Pure anger, not at Elisabeth but at her brother. “Degenerado. He must have convinced her to come. I told them both it was a foolish idea. I hope this excursion was worth it.”
Elisabeth slid the spear into the back of her pants.
“It wasn’t. I’m surprised you called . . . them,” she said, nodding toward the officers.
Nadia laughed. “Just because they are military doesn’t mean their loyalty can’t be bought. You are not in trouble, Lizzy. But you do have some explaining to do.”
“Gladly,” Elisabeth said, and glanced at Malcolm. He nodded. She would get a half-truth like everyone else.
“Come,” said Nadia. “My men will help salvage your gear and then—”
A rattle from the forest.
The three survivors turned to face the noise while the rest seemed unbothered by it. Elisabeth stared off into the forest. Trees bowed over in the wind. Grass rippled. She didn’t see any monsters.
“We have to go. Now,” said Elisabeth, taking Nadia by the arm and pulling her down toward the boat.
“What’s the rush? Don’t tell me my brother died for nothing.”
From the forest, Medusa appeared, sliding out and stopping so suddenly that her scales dug a trench in the mud. Next to her, Hephaestus with his massive hammer. And crawling between the trees near the top, leaving webbing in the foliage, Arachne. Seeing them arrive made Nadia forget her words.
The sailors aimed their guns but didn’t fire. They backtracked down the path and toward the dock. The lead officer barked orders to his men. As they neared the boat, the trio of monsters bolted down the hill. Hephaestus moved the slowest since the larger monsters had faster means of locomotion.
“Go, go, go!” said Nadia, now in a sprint toward the dock.
Gunfire rattled out as the officers opened fire. A low growl—much closer than Elisabeth would’ve liked—echoed in response. She stepped up on the boat, made sure Malcolm and Duncan were with her. The men with guns jumped aboard last. They formed a line that slowed the monsters, but didn’t stop them from advancing.
Medusa slithered close, eyes lighting up, finding the nearest victim—one of the armed officers—and turned him to stone in an instant. In the daylight, it was far more horrid to watch the rings of color spread out and become still.
By the time Elisabeth recovered, the engines were blazing and the stone man fell into the water. Medusa bashed the boat, nearly capsizing it, but they moved too fast and stabilized. Off they went, sailing away to the glory of green water. She caught her breath and watched the island shrink away.
And on the dock stood all three of them, eyeing her with such hate. Now safely onboard, Nadia froze with fear. She stared at the myths while they stared back.
Elisabeth sat next to Malcolm and Duncan. One of them put a hand on her leg, but she’d already closed her eyes and was drifting off to sleep. The adrenaline bled out.
“Your story was real,” Nadia said at last. “There are monsters in the world.”
Elisabeth, still with her eyes closed, nodded. “And if you want to keep your life simple, you’ll never speak of them to anyone.”
Nadia turned back to the island and watched it dwindle until disappearing into the morning haze.
Chelsea, London
Two Months Later
They avoided a lot of legal trouble thanks to Nadia Flores. Since she and Elisabeth still had an off-the-record agreement that Nadia never followed through on, Elisabeth figured she owed her. Faulty guns seemed like a good trade for the girl’s silence.
Although Elisabeth liked the idea of keeping monsters from the world, seeing them in flesh made filling in the gaps to Nadia a lot easier. On the trip back to the mainland, she recounted her brother’s plan all the way up to his last moments.
The other four men who arrived with Saulo and Marcela had criminal records, with Vincente and Iso wanted in Cuba for trafficking. Because of the special interest in these men, Nadia assured Elisabeth the search for them would never end, but it likely wouldn’t take authorities to Snake Island. Nadia would need a story for Marcela’s poor mãe.
If anyone returned for the guns, they wouldn’t lead back to Nadia, and certainly not Elisabeth. Although Saulo gave her faulty guns, they were also untraceable. Those he and his companions brought to the island were registered to either him or Henrique.
The spiders flourished. Elisabeth assumed they all flowed from Arachne, but this seemed impossible since many just reappeared back in the places they belonged, as if they’d only dug beneath the ground and waited to pop up. Their brief absence inflicted significant harm on the food chain, yet it kept moving in the right direction. People would die, but progress continued.
One month after arriving back in London to much fanfare, Elisabeth visited her doctor for a full physical. No problems lingered, at least no additional ones. Her body remained a roadmap of pain and damage from drug use, but at least no spiders and no purple silk. She felt fine. In fact, she hadn’t felt this good in years.
She pulled herself out of the spotlight once again, having no need of fame. As much as Elisabeth wanted to change how the world hated her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. No one would believe her. And like Bethel, the real story would only make her seem more detached from reality.
But Elisabeth believed the world didn’t need to know about monsters. They didn’t need to know that a half human, half spider creature—who likely returned to the caves under Bethel to rebuild her kingdom—controlled all spiders. The world needed to see that Medusa and Hephaestus were just myths from ancient Greek history.
