“We should be able to climb down here,” called out Babinski.
Brusilov and Nikolay crossed to the edge of the collapsed walkway and looked at the four-inch wide cables running down the wall Babinski pointed out near the broken platform.
Though Brusilov was reluctant to go down, he couldn’t see any other choice as they needed to keep moving. He glanced around the room again. It was obvious from what they had seen so far in the lower levels that they were moving through the spaceship’s industrial areas, the machinery that kept the huge spaceship running. If there was an armory it had to be on a higher level.
Babinski slid down first and fearing something might be down here, waiting, as soon as his feet touched the floor he aimed his rifle and light around the room. Sergei came down next and the rest of the men quickly followed. They cautiously moved between the machinery, heading for the door they had spotted from above on the far side. All expected an attack at any moment. Something had been killed in the corridor they had just passed through and it was a good bet whatever was responsible was down here somewhere. The ship’s creaks, groans and the humming of the machines that started and stopped erratically with sinister whirrs and chugging clacks filled the room with an atmosphere of spookiness the men had rarely experienced. All felt relieved when they reached the far door safely.
Rozovsky was first to arrive at the open door. He peered around the frame and after shining his light into the next room, turned to those watching him with a frown creasing his brow and a shake of his head. “It’s not good.”
Rozovsky’s concern increased the men’s anxiety.
“From what we’ve experienced so far, how bad can it be?” said Nikolay, attempting to quell the men’s fears. He stepped through the doorway and glanced around the room while the men crowded behind him.
“I guess it’s as bad as it can be,” stated Yelchin, who halted beside Nikolay and gazed at the thing above.
“And then some,” added Vadik, as he joined them in gazing at the thing that hung from the strange formations covering the walls and ceiling.
Though mostly a skeleton, enough of its tattered and ripped skin remained to give a sense of its appearance when alive and evidence something had fed upon the carcass. Its large skull had four empty eye sockets, two either side of a raised strip of bone that ended above its jaw. The top of the skull spread out in a fan with three holes spaced out near the top. Its chest, partially covered in taut ripped skin that exposed its thick ribs, was triangular, tapering down to hips that stuck out at an angle. Attached to these were two long legs jointed in two places. Attached to its spread out arms and legs were strands of what seemed to be thick webs suspending it from the ceiling. Its posed posture gave the impression the monster’s corpse was flying, swooping down to snatch them up in its claws.
“Whatever it is, I’m just glad it’s dead,” said Nikolay, tearing his eyes away from the frightening spectacle.
Mikhail scanned the room, his eyes darting nervously at the many dark areas where anything could be concealed. “Yeah, but whatever hung that thing up there might not be.”
Brusilov pushed to the front and gazed past the macabre ceiling decoration. The room stretched up three levels and dropped down one. This could be their chance to leave the bowels of the ship and climb nearer to their goal. It wasn’t only the Motherland that desperately needed to get their hands on the alien weapons; their ammo had reached such a critical level if they didn’t find something to defend themselves with soon it was doubtful any of them would be leaving the monster-infested vessel.
Nikolay read the captains thoughts. “You think we can climb it?”
Brusilov walked over to the nearest growth and tapped one of the brown, bonelike skeletal ribs that covered the walls and creaked with every movement of the ship; though a hollow thud rang out, it was as hard as stone.
“It seems strong enough.”
Brusilov gazed the length of the long room, its machinery and purpose smothered by the brown growth. Curved vertical formations linked the horizontal ribs together, adding to their strength and gave the impression of macabre curved ladders set on their sides. At intervals, bridges formed of the same substance connected the two sides. He made his decision and glanced at his men. “We climb.”
As the men started the ascent, Brusilov shone his light into the deep hole. The bone-like constructions continued down, becoming thicker as they neared the bottom and formed cave-like entrances. Shrouded in darkness the light failed to fully banish, it was easy to imagine monstrous creatures roaming its depths. Hell would probably look more inviting.
For all their strangeness, the ribs were easy to climb. Though they creaked and sometimes moved slightly, they supported the men’s weight. They were almost halfway up when they heard it.
Clack clack. Clack clack. Clack clack.
The sound brought the team to a halt and all turned their gazes below.
A couple of the men aimed their flashlights at the clacking and highlighted the creature responsible for creating the sound. Each landing of one of its six skeletal limbs clacked on the hard growth it climbed. It stopped, raised its head and looked at the humans that had strayed into its domain.
The men stared back at the creature. It wasn’t very big, about two and a half feet in length. Its head was little more than a skull so tightly was the skin stretched over it, but, surprisingly, it didn’t look frightening or vicious. It had two small eyes, a hint of a nose and a tiny mouth. Its six almost fleshless limbs were tipped with a flat knob of bone, conspicuously absent any claws, and its body was covered in a wiry mass of brown hair. Even though it had the appearance of a six-legged spider, it was the least frightening alien they had seen thus far.
Vadik sighted along his rifle at the spider creature. “Shall I kill it?”
Brusilov shook his head doubtfully. “No. It hasn’t shown us any aggression. It might just be curious about us.”
“Shooting it might also attract others of its kind if there are any,” added Rozovsky. “I think we should ignore it and press on.”
All agreed and they continued their climb.
Noticing movement from out the corner of his eye, Yelchin glanced to the right and froze. A spider creature too close for comfort stared at him. It cocked its small head to one side and then the other as it briefly examined Yelchin before edging a little nearer.
Yelchin moved to the side so he could climb around it. The creature jumped on the rib by his head and hissed.
“Errrh, comrades, I could do with some help here,” whispered Yelchin, keeping a smile on his lips in the hope it would convey to the creature he meant it no harm.
The men stopped and looked at the reason for Yelchin’s concern. The creature they saw was about half the size of the one below.
“It’s only a young’un, slap it away,” said Vadik.
Yelchin reached out a hand towards the creature. “It’s okay I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to push you back a bit.”
The creature jerked its head from side to side as it watched the hand moving closer. When the hand was almost touching it, it sniffed the tips of the fingers and then looked at Yelchin.
Yelchin stared at the creature, partly in fascination, but mostly in apprehension. When its pupils grew until they filled its eyes and an intensely bright tiny orange dot glowed in their centers, he sensed something bad was about to happen and withdrew his hand. The creature’s head spun around. The large mouth that filled this side of the head opened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. The creature darted forward. The mouth snapped shut on Yelchin’s hand and drew back with two of his fingers in its mouth. Yelchin screamed as he recoiled. His foot slipped and the creature’s head spun again. It looked at him curiously as he fell back, blood spraying from his wounded hand.