shouting “Run! Run! I’m coming!” was particularly indelible and had led to more than one bout of insomnia.
4
The Crawlspace was a winding trail domed by fat vines and greenery. The flora was so dense it actually knitted together, transforming the footpath into a tight, humid tunnel. The growth pressed so near to the ground that those who were foolish enough to roam The Crawlspace had to stoop while they treaded its arduously sheer incline.
Charlie and Douglas led the way. They each had large packs strapped to their backs and were lugging the plastic cooler between them. The pair of them were demonstrably more experienced at hiking than Petra, who was practically speed-walking just to keep them in sight. Tad lagged at the tail end of their party. Petra glanced back to note his sweaty, scarlet-coloured complexion and wondered whether it was due to exertion or rage.
“We’re nearing the peak,” Charlie shouted, “so you need to watch yourselves. Once you cross over the top, this path drops downward. It’s steep as hell, so get ready to run.”
“Running, too?” Tad hollered. “This just keeps getting better.”
“You can always roll down the decline if you want,” Douglas suggested without looking back.
Petra couldn’t resist stealing a glimpse of her lover’s expression, which flaunted the impotent fury of punctured pride.
The remainder of the upward trudge was met out wordlessly until Charlie called, “Okay, this is it!” Then he and Douglas dipped over the summit and vanished.
When Petra reached the thin ledge, the tunnel of flora became an echo chamber. The low-end thumping of Charlie and Douglas footing full-tilt down the path was contrasted by a high hushing sound, akin to the whirring one hears inside a conch shell.
“Go, go!” Tad ordered as he came up just behind her.
Petra stepped over and began her descent. It felt as though the world had switched on its axis and begun to spin wildly, hurling everything forward and down, forward and down. The overgrowth extended even lower, constricting the tunnel into an airless pipe. The terrain became horrifically uneven; thick vines and chunky rocks jutting up here and there like booby-traps in the soil. Terrified that she might stumble, possibly fracture her skull, Petra began to scream. Behind her came the sound of laughter.
Seconds later she saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Day glimmered at the far mouth of the Crawlspace, brilliant as a struck match head. By now the thudding of footsteps had stopped, or perhaps had been drowned out by the rushing sound, which was almost deafening.
Petra reached the aperture and came rocketing out onto a plateau of slick flat rock. The sunlight was so radiant that for a beat she thought the world had been consumed in waves of white fire. Her eyes instinctively squinted shut as she ran. Every stomp against the stone jarred her from her soles to her skull.
She thought she might run on forever, when a barrier suddenly knocked against her midsection, blasting the wind from her lungs. Falling forward, Petra opened her eyes to see Charlie holding her. Her face was reflected in the black plates of his sunglasses. She resembled, she thought, a feral daughter, with her scorched-looking face and wild, sweat-drenched mane.
“Careful,” Charlie said. “A few more paces and you’d have gone right over.”
Once her eyes grew accustomed to the glare, Petra surveyed her surroundings. The ocean below refracted the sunlight into a measureless cobweb of diamond-glints.
“Kind of makes you dizzy, doesn’t it?”
Petra hadn’t even heard Douglas moving up behind her, and she flinched at the sound of his voice.
“And a little jumpy too, apparently,” she chirped.
“Don’t joke about being jumpy when you’re standing by a nine-hundred-metre drop.”
“I’m no good at measuring, but I’ll take your word for it. God . . . this place . . .”
“Yeah, it’s pretty neat. I
4
The Crawlspace was a winding trail domed by fat vines and greenery. The flora was so dense it actually knitted together, transforming the footpath into a tight, humid tunnel. The growth pressed so near to the ground that those who were foolish enough to roam The Crawlspace had to stoop while they treaded its arduously sheer incline.
Charlie and Douglas led the way. They each had large packs strapped to their backs and were lugging the plastic cooler between them. The pair of them were demonstrably more experienced at hiking than Petra, who was practically speed-walking just to keep them in sight. Tad lagged at the tail end of their party. Petra glanced back to note his sweaty, scarlet-coloured complexion and wondered whether it was due to exertion or rage.
“We’re nearing the peak,” Charlie shouted, “so you need to watch yourselves. Once you cross over the top, this path drops downward. It’s steep as hell, so get ready to run.”
“Running, too?” Tad hollered. “This just keeps getting better.”
“You can always roll down the decline if you want,” Douglas suggested without looking back.
Petra couldn’t resist stealing a glimpse of her lover’s expression, which flaunted the impotent fury of punctured pride.
The remainder of the upward trudge was met out wordlessly until Charlie called, “Okay, this is it!” Then he and Douglas dipped over the summit and vanished.
When Petra reached the thin ledge, the tunnel of flora became an echo chamber. The low-end thumping of Charlie and Douglas footing full-tilt down the path was contrasted by a high hushing sound, akin to the whirring one hears inside a conch shell.
“Go, go!” Tad ordered as he came up just behind her.
Petra stepped over and began her descent. It felt as though the world had switched on its axis and begun to spin wildly, hurling everything forward and down, forward and down. The overgrowth extended even lower, constricting the tunnel into an airless pipe. The terrain became horrifically uneven; thick vines and chunky rocks jutting up here and there like booby-traps in the soil. Terrified that she might stumble, possibly fracture her skull, Petra began to scream. Behind her came the sound of laughter.
Seconds later she saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Day glimmered at the far mouth of the Crawlspace, brilliant as a struck match head. By now the thudding of footsteps had stopped, or perhaps had been drowned out by the rushing sound, which was almost deafening.
Petra reached the aperture and came rocketing out onto a plateau of slick flat rock. The sunlight was so radiant that for a beat she thought the world had been consumed in waves of white fire. Her eyes instinctively squinted shut as she ran. Every stomp against the stone jarred her from her soles to her skull.
She thought she might run on forever, when a barrier suddenly knocked against her midsection, blasting the wind from her lungs. Falling forward, Petra opened her eyes to see Charlie holding her. Her face was reflected in the black plates of his sunglasses. She resembled, she thought, a feral daughter, with her scorched-looking face and wild, sweat-drenched mane.
“Careful,” Charlie said. “A few more paces and you’d have gone right over.”
Once her eyes grew accustomed to the glare, Petra surveyed her surroundings. The ocean below refracted the sunlight into a measureless cobweb of diamond-glints.
“Kind of makes you dizzy, doesn’t it?”
Petra hadn’t even heard Douglas moving up behind her, and she flinched at the sound of his voice.
“And a little jumpy too, apparently,” she chirped.
“Don’t joke about being jumpy when you’re standing by a nine-hundred-metre drop.”
“I’m no good at measuring, but I’ll take your word for it. God . . . this place . . .”
“Yeah, it’s pretty neat. I
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