The PriZin of Zin (23 page)

Chapter 34: Web

Web [web] noun

something
formed
by or as if by weaving or interweaving; a thin, silken
material
spun
by
spiders and the larvae of some insects, as the webworms and tent caterpillars

Day 2

Aeryn’s eyes fluttered open.
What a nightmare
. She blinked the morning light away, and sighed.
I have to get out of here. Home. I need to go home.
A huge yawn captured her lower jaw, stretching her face and filling her lungs with chilly morning air. Aeryn tried to shake away the cobwebs from her sleepy brain but her hair was caught on something. She raised her hand to check it out. At least she tried to raise her hand. It seemed to be caught on something, too. The glare of the sun was so bright against the morning dew she couldn’t see anything. Aeryn tried to move, but couldn’t. She rolled one way, and then another. Nothing worked. She was caught. Panic flashed back into her being as she recalled the details of her nightmare. Only it wasn’t a nightmare anymore. It was real again.

Aeryn fought against the restraints that held her down. Once again she felt the ground shudder and shake as giant footfalls sounded louder and louder. Clacking mandibles— that’s what she heard. Never again would she forget that sound. Ever so slowly, a giant clacking black orb slid down a slick web string and eclipsed the blinding sun. Only then did she see why she couldn’t move. She was spun into a giant glistening web.

“Good morning, child,” the spider greeted.

“Let me go!”

“But of course we can’t do that. We have an agreement.”

“What agreement?”

“My emissaries offered to take you to your father, and you agreed. That constitutes a verbal agreement— a contract of sorts. You are now bound to it.”

“I don’t want your help anymore.” She squirmed and wriggled, but the web tightened on her.

“I am confused. Don’t you want to see your father again?”

“Of course, but not like this.” She fought against the restraints holding her down.

“I don’t recall there being any choices given to you in the matter.” Aeryn froze and stared at the giant salivating arachnid.

“You see, child,” it continued, “my minions told you they would take you to see your father. You agreed. There was no mention of any circumstances beyond that.”

Behind the big leader, she heard clacking— clacking that almost sounded like laughter to her, and then screaming. The thundering on the ground increased.

“You will be brought to your father soon enough, but not as a visitor. You will now be his fellow prisoner.”

“What’s that sound?” she demanded.

“Sound?” The black head turned one way, and then another, all eight of its eyes circling the surroundings. Another scream tore through the morning light. It was the sound of pure terror.

“That sound,” she snapped. “That was a scream.”

“Ahhh, yes. One of our less cooperative guests.”

Aeryn’s mind raced. Panic seized her senses.
Was it Hunter or Ian? Could it be her father?
She screamed. “Let me go! Daddy! Hunter!”

“Now, now, child. Is that any way to treat your gracious hosts?” The spider moved away, releasing the blinding sun against her tear streaked face. Her eyes closed to protect them. In the distance, the screaming weakened, and then stopped.

“What’s happening?” she sobbed. “Why did it stop?”

The spider clicked as it moved away. Click, clack, clack, clack, click. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. “Not to worry child. She is, as you say, breakfast.” Reaching the edge of the clearing, he twisted several eyes backward. “Guard her!” was the last command barked at the camouflaged hermit crabs lining the perimeter of the web.

It wouldn’t stop. She tried. Oh, how she tried. But they just kept coming in waves. Her violent trembles shook not only her mind and body, but also the web she was chained to. The strings were impossible to break. She watched the web strands quiver in the air, as though a steady wind blew through, but it didn’t. The movement was that of sheer terror and she was completely helpless.

The girl’s scream echoed over and over again in her mind. Aeryn tried to slow the sound, but couldn’t. She wished that her hands were free so she could cover her ears and try to make this sound go away, but she was locked in place. She had long since given up her struggle against the web; it only made her chains tighter the more she fought. She had run out of tears, and hope. Aeryn hung in time and space, waiting to die.

That’s when it hit her.

‘She.’ The spider had said ‘she’ was breakfast. Aeryn was the only girl in their group. That meant that Hunter, Ian, and her father were still alive. Sadness at the unknown girl’s fate surfaced, but at the same time a glimmer of hope dared to swell inside of her. She opened her eyes. The guards were still there. She counted fifteen hermit crabs with spindly legs in a circle at the base of the web. There were probably more behind her, but what did it matter. There was no way she could escape. Even if she did manage to get out of the web, the guards would snatch her in an instant.

The crabs began to circle their prey. Aeryn tensed, as much as she could within the confines of her coffin-like cocoon. Moving with a military precision, the crabs crawled around her in rows. The only thing missing was the clacking. Faster and faster they circled, reaching out and touching one another as they passed.

Why does everything dance in circles around here? These look just like—
the thought jolted Aeryn like a bolt of lightning. She remembered the scene from last night, yet so long ago. They gathered their strength from something above. Something or someone up there communicated with them— about her. Aeryn looked up. Her fingers and toes began to tingle. Whether from lack of blood circulation or something else, she didn’t know. But she did know that her terror was subsiding and her courage was seeping back into her soul.

“Please,” she started. “I don’t know who or what you are, but I know you know I’m here. And I think you know I’m in trouble.”

The forest took on a glow. Not an eerie one. This was more of a bright shadow. The presence of something was moving toward her. Aeryn began to cry.
Not the spiders again.

“Please,” she started again. “I messed up, bad, and I need help. I have to find my dad and my brother. I can’t do it all by myself. I tried but it didn’t work.”

The light grew brighter. Shades of purples, oranges, reds, and blues moved toward her. It looked as though a rainbow walked through the forest toward her, a calming rainbow. No fear or shame came with it. Just peace.

At the base of a nearby tree, a single silver thread from under her web began to spiral upwards, dancing toward the sky. The tip swayed to and fro, but always staying within the glow of the rainbow. It almost looked like the web strands that held her captive, except this one was different. The spider’s web was a glistening silver thread, but the tree thread, while glistening and silver, glowed with the rainbow that it danced within. The spider web did not. The rainbow overtook her position, but she wasn’t afraid.

“Please, set me free,” she asked. Upon her request, the silver thread lowered, touched her cocoon. The chains fell away. Aeryn was freed.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Crab shells shot up all around her, revealing crouching mantises underneath.

“Psssst. This way.”

Aeryn jerked her head around to see Ryder crouching on the ground behind her.

“Quickly; the spiders will be back soon.”

Aeryn slid from the web, now immune to its sticky trapping qualities. She ran toward Ryder.

“No,” he commanded. “On your belly. We have to crawl.”

Aeryn followed the order without question, dropping to the ground and half-crawling, half-sliding to her rescuer. The mantises followed suit, sliding around them in a protective circle.

“I’m so glad to see you, Ryder. I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t think, did you?” he whisper-barked back at her. “Look around. These guardians all risked their own lives to come here and protect you.”

Aeryn shrank back.

“It’s time for you to grow up, Aeryn. This is no joke.” He turned to crawl through the brush. “Hurry; when the spiders get back they’ll be angry. We may not survive next time.”

Aeryn broke into tears again. Ryder turned back. “If you want to rescue your father, then let me help you. Take the time to learn what you need to. Sharpen your skills. Be a soldier. If you run off blindly, then you will not only get yourself killed, but also the rest of the soldiers with you. We lost one this morning.”

She wiped her tears away. Frozen in time, unable to move, she whimpered. Then the shaking returned.

“Look back, Aeryn.” She turned to see the rainbow still in the clearing behind her. “That will never let you go. Don’t you let go, either. Learn to trust.”

She nodded.

“Soldier!” he whisper-barked again. “Attention!”

Aeryn turned front, wiped her face, and for the first time, she faced her fears.

“Follow me!” Ryder turned and slid away. She followed.

The mantises took up the rear, scraping away their trail in the dirt as they crawled.

Chapter 35: Train

Train -
verb (used with object)
to develop or form the habits, thoughts, or behavior of a person by discipline and instruction:
to train an army.

“You are the sorriest group of recruits I have ever seen!” The commander paced back and forth in front of their line, head shaking. “No discipline. No direction. Everybody wants something but nobody wants to work for it. Am I supposed to just hand life to you?” He scanned the group in front of him. “WELL, AM I?” he screamed.

“No, sir,” a few grumbled.

“You call that an answer?”

“NO, SIR!” they yelled back.

“Back straight! Chest out!” he ordered. “Head high! How do you slacking, sorry group of misfits ever expect to accomplish the impossible, if you don’t believe you can do it?”

The group glanced around at each other.

“WELL?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yes, sir, what?” The colonel stopped right in front of them, polished armor glistening in the morning light blinding Aeryn. “Yes, you don’t believe you can?” he barked in Aeryn’s face.

“No, sir,” she shot back.

“No, you can’t do it?”

“No, sir. I mean… Yes, sir, no…” she hesitated a split second too long.

“What exactly do you mean, Recruit Welch?”

“I can do it, sir.” Her heart raced and her palms sweat.

“You can do what, Recruit Welch? Tell the group, if you please.”

“I need to save my—”

“I didn’t ask you what you
need
to do, Recruit. I asked you what you
can
do. So, tell me again, Recruit Welch. What
can
you do?”

Aeryn wanted to cry. She could see Ryder standing in a line of soldiers behind the commander. Her rag-tag collection of misfit recruits was lined up in front of him, with the commander alone pacing between the two groups. She looked at those around her for help. They dared not move their eyes to even look at her, that is, if they even had eyes. She saw what looked like a small Bigfoot, assorted enormous insect-like creatures, could be a lizard next to her, and possibly another human, all looking beaten down and dejected just like her. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“Would you like some help, Princess?”

She nodded, the words not able to form in her throat.

“Nothing. You can do nothing, Princess. And would you like to know why?”

Again she nodded.

“Because you think you can do it on your own. You trust no one, receive help from no one, and you help no one else. Is that about right?”

Another nod.

“So tell me then, how did you get free from the Spatz?”

Aeryn jerked her head up and stared into his eyes.

“How did the web release you? Hmmm?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Did you do it?”

“No, sir.”

“Then can we agree that you can’t do everything?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“And you absolutely can’t do the impossible, correct?”

She lowered her head and nodded. The commander moved down the line, stopping at the Bigfoot. “And you—can
you
do the impossible?”

The hairy brown creature made a low rumbling growl.

“No, I didn’t think so.” The commander stopped pacing and stood tall. “One thing you failures need to get through your thick skulls right now is that you are never alone in this life, and we do nothing alone. There are highly trained and dedicated souls here for no other reason than to see you to safety. If you are to succeed in your respective quests of saving your homeland from deforestation— he gave a nod to the Bigfoot; wiping the planet free from Spatz— now nodding at the giant insects; and saving your father from certain death— he winked at Aeryn; then you must learn to depend on each other. The One who put us all here never meant for us to fight our battles alone. Like it or not, we need each other, so get used to it!” 

“How are push-ups going to get my father released from prison?”

“Stop asking questions, Aeryn. Just focus.” Ryder squatted at her head, bent low.

“I don’t see— ”

“You don’t have to see,” he snapped. “Just trust that the commander knows what he’s doing. Is that so hard for you? This is about discipline and trust,” Ryder cautioned. “You must be trained in the proper way to do things, so that when things get hard, you won’t depart from what is right. Understand?”

“Up. Fifteen. Down. Up. Sixteen. Down. Up. Seventeen. Down. Up. Eighteen. Down. Up. Nineteen. Down. Up…” The drill sergeant’s monotonous voice never faltered.

“I’ll do push-ups if you answer some questions.”

“Fine, Aeryn, whatever it takes. But you have to do them while I answer. If you stop, I stop. Deal?”

“Deal.” She propped back up on her hands and toes, ready.

“Down,” Ryder started.

“How did I get free from the web?” She went down.

“A friend.”

She came back up. “What friend?”

“Down. The one you called.”

She came back up. “I never called anybody.”

“Down. Yes, you did. I heard you.”

She came back up. “No, Mr. Ryder, I did no such thing.”

“Down. Do you remember saying ‘please help me’?.” Aeryn stopped. “Down,” Ryder barked, “or I stop.” She went down and pumped back up.

“Yeah, I said that, but not to anyone. I just—said it.”

“Down. Well, He heard you, and He came to help you.”

“Who?” She rose, her arms shaking and muscles burning.

“The One who put us all here. Down.”

“You mean like a Commander or something?”

“You could say that.”

“I did say that, genius,” she shot back. “How ‘bout you answer me.”

“Look, missy; you have no idea how much trouble you’re in right now. I am here
trying
to help you. I’m fighting for you, so why don’t you start behaving?” Ryder stood and stomped away.

“Wait!”

He stopped.

Aeryn wrestled with her thoughts for a moment. “The girl who was killed—the one who was screaming—did you know her?”

Ryder nodded without turning around. “She was from your world.”

“Why didn’t someone rescue her?”

“She wasn’t mine. Besides, you can only rescue those who wish to be rescued, Aeryn. That one was headstrong and stubborn. Never felt as though she needed help from anyone. She ran off on her own to do everything by herself, and she paid the price. She never learned to truly fly on her own. Not everyone survives down here, Aeryn. It’s my job to try to teach you—to save you, but I can’t teach you if you refuse to learn.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair, Aeryn? Life? No, it’s not. You think I want to sit down here and listen to you scream for your life like that? I won’t be able to help you then. You’re my recruit. You’ve been assigned to me. I don’t think you understand that.”

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t seem to understand at all that I am here to help you, but I can’t if you keep refusing.”

“I never actually refused.” She grinned. “And, besides, I was just testing you.”

“Testing me?” Ryder’s jaw dropped.

“Yes. I was testing your loyalty.”

“Uh huh. And?”

“And what?” She smiled.

“Did I pass the test?” Clearly annoyed, Ryder just stared at her.

“For now,” she smirked. “We’ll see more when the flying lessons begin. Right now I have to do stupid, useless, push-ups because my angry mentor told me to. Don’t actually understand why I need a mentor at all, but since I’m stuck with one, I might as well try to help him.” She propped back up on her elbows, then dropped back down. “Wait,” she said. “Tell me again why I need to do push-ups.”

Ryder dropped his head and let out a deep mournful sigh. “Why me, Sir? Why me?”