“Best hurry, Cap,” Hynd said. “We’re going to have company. Yon wee ones are coming up behind us in the tunnel.”
Wiggins went next, dropping down beside Davies. Brock wasn’t able to put his weight on the wounded ankle and could only sit on the edge of the rock while Banks lowered first Kim, then Maggie, to the waiting men.
“Time’s up, Cap,” Hynd said. “Here they come.”
The remaining three men all dropped at the same time. The slab of rock moved, tilting alarmingly and sending a tumble of loosened debris deeper into the cavern. This time it definitely got the white spider’s attention. It ceased feeding and looked up, the plate-sized red eyes directed straight at them.
“Move out,” Banks said. “Up that slope, right now. The sarge and I will cover you. Shift your arses.”
The first of the smaller spiders looked over the ledge above them as Wiggins led the others away as fast as the hobbling Brock would allow.
“I think we’ve lost the element of surprise, Cap,” Hynd said evenly as two more of the dog-sized beasts appeared at the ledge above their heads. The only thing stopping them attacking was the presence of an overhang that, momentarily at least, had them confused.
“Time for the gas?” Hynd added, waving towards the main mass of web. “It’s not like we’re short of fuel.”
“Not yet,” Banks said. “We need to give the others a chance to at least get some way up the slope. How much ammo do you have?”
“Half a mag and a clip in the pistol.”
“Same here,” Banks replied. “Let’s see how many of these buggers we can take down with the rifles. Save the pistols if we can and back off as slow as we can. We only make a run for it if that big white fucker looks like coming our way; we’d need a fucking cannon to make a dent in that.”
The six others were already down off the slab of rock and had made their way to the foot of the rocky slope. Brock was clearly struggling, some paces behind the others and was about to tackle the incline when Wilkins dropped back to lend him a shoulder.
Above Banks and Hynd, the first of the smaller spiders made a tentative attempt to negotiate the overhang, before losing its footing and falling, a thrashing tangle of legs, at Banks’ feet. He put a single bullet in its eyes and crushed its body under his heel.
The sound of the shot rang around the chamber and brought an answering rat-a-tat clacking from the white spider, three beats that echoed as loud as the gunfire and brought an immediate response. Spiders, varying in size from the small, dog-sized up to the ones as big as cattle or bigger, poured out of the cavern entrances on the far side of their queen and, as if coordinated by some invisible signal, came on at speed, heading straight for Banks and Hynd.
— 22 —
The shooting started before Maggie and the others were a quarter of the way up the slope. It was hard going, rock and loose pebbles underfoot, and they often slid back a step for every two they took upward. Brock and Wilkins were lagging ever farther behind, Brock being unable to put any weight on his bad ankle, which meant the two of them were negotiating the slope like a team in a three-legged race and with little success in prospect.
Below them, only now reaching the bottom of the slope, Banks and Hynd fought a rearguard action against a growing army of spiders, taking them out a single shot at a time, then backing away before finding another target.
Wiggins turned to Davies.
“Get the women up top and make sure it’s all clear,” he said. “I’ll give Wilkins a hand with Brock and hang back to back up Cap and Sarge.”
“Bugger that women and children first shite, Wiggo,” Maggie said. “You know I can handle a pistol. Hand it over and I’ll do my bit. Joe can take Kim if she wants to go.”
Kim took Maggie’s hand again.
“As you said, bugger that for a game of soldiers. I’m staying.”
“God save me from mouthy women,” Wiggins said with a wide grin. He took his pistol and handed it to Maggie.
“I know,” she said before he could say anything and gave him her best Glasgow accent. “Aim the pointy end at the fuckers and keep firing until they bugger off.”
Wiggins grinned again.
“My sisters are going to love you.”
He left her standing with Kim and Davies and went back five steps down the slope to where Wilkins and Brock struggled over a patch of loose pebbles.
“Miss?” Davies said.
“You’d better start calling me Maggie, or there’ll be trouble,” she said. “And I’ve got a gun now.”
It was Davies’ turn to grin.
“I was going to say, we’ll wait for those three to catch us up, then we make a push for the top.”
“What about your captain and sergeant?” Kim asked.
Davies pointed down the slope.
“They’ll be fine.”
Maggie wasn’t so sure of that but the two men were alive and backing away slowly from an advancing swarm of spiders. The smaller ones had become more cautious, coming forward more slowly now in the face of the rifles. But that had only served to give the larger, cattle-sized beasts time in which to come up out of the caverns and join the attack. The nearest of them was only ten paces below the two men and coming on fast. The sergeant took it out with a shot in its eyes but two more immediately scuttled into the vacated space and the two men had to retreat to avoid being overrun.
It took Wiggins and Wilkins another minute to get Brock up to where Maggie stood with the others. The wounded private was clearly struggling, his face gray and lined with pain at every step. Davies had them put the man down on a rock and Wiggins and Wilkins took guard while Davies bent to look at the ankle.
Maggie saw it was bad, but worse than that, she smelled it was bad. The bandages, fresh not that many minutes ago, were soaked through with stinking black and green fluid and black necrosis showed in his flesh both above and below the extent of the bandage. Brock’s eyes fluttered and he struggled for breath.
“I’m done,” he said. “I can’t go any farther. Go on without me, I’ll cover for the captain and sarge.”
“Don’t talk shite, lad,” Wiggins said. “You got this far, didn’t you? On your feet, Private. That’s an order.”
To his credit, Brock made the attempt and got halfway up before his leg gave way beneath him but that brought a fresh flare of pain and a yell from him that echoed around the chamber even above the gunfire from below. It also brought another wash of stench from his venom-soaked bandages.
Maggie wasn’t the only one to take note. The giant white spider lifted up its front legs, tasting the air in the same manner as she’d seen the smaller ones do outside when they caught a whiff of poor Jim White’s remains.
Three of the large spiders in the forefront of the attack at the foot of the slope also mimicked the giant’s response.
They think he’s food.
Brock looked up at Wiggins.
“Thanks for looking after me, Corp,” he said. “Tell my maw I went out fighting.”
He looked up at Maggie and winked.
“Bait, eh? That sounds like a plan to me.”
Before any of them could move to stop him, Brock rolled away to his right, sending himself tumbling in a flurry of loose rock, dirt and pebbles, not down towards the captain and sergeant but off to one side, heading directly toward a large mass of web.
“Badger, get the fuck back here, that’s an order,” Wiggins shouted but the private was already thirty, forty yards away, tumbling and rolling. By this time, Banks and Hynd were in full retreat and catching up to their position fast. A large number of the spiders broke off from the hunt, front legs raised and tasting, before turning and making directly towards where Brock had finally come to a halt, stuck tight in a fibrous mass of web.