“How long,” Santee wanted to know later as they sucked appreciatively on golden apples, “is this trip gonna last?”
“Another full day’s journey for you two, and maybe half the next. At this speed we can’t expect to cut it any shorter,” Kimber replied. “Jorge’s been working on the engine again. But there isn’t much he can do without other tools.”
The big man grinned. “Well, these here plasta-boots of our’n are holdin’ up pretty well. We can keep sloggin’ a while longer. And there’s nothin’ to be afraid of.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” cautioned the pilot. “Keep your eyes open, you two. There may have been other booby traps scattered around. Since we were shot down, I don’t trust even a clear sky!”
The second day’s routine followed the first. Except, in the arid desert land, it was tougher going and they did not make time.
Dard’s head went up and his nostrils expanded as he started to pick his way down a series of ledges into a sandy- floored ravine. There was a musky, highly repellent stench arising from below. And he had sniffed something very much like it before! The putrescent remains of the duocorn! Below an organic thing was very dead! Santee worked along to join him.
“What’re you stoppin’ for?”
“Smell that?”
Santee’s bearded face wrinkled. “Yah, a big stink! Somthin’ dead!”
Dard studied the ground before them carefully. If they tried to double back on their trail through this up and down country they were going to lose hours of time, After all, what had made that kill below—if it were a kill-might have been gone for days. He decided to leave it up to Santee.
“Shall we go down?”
“We’ll lose a lotta time back trailin’ from here. I’d say keep on.”
But they continued the descent cautiously and when Dard disturbed a small stone, which dropped noisily over the edge, he stiffened for several listening seconds. There was no sound from below—nothing but that terrible stomach-disturbing odor.
Santee unslung the rifle, and Dard’s hand went to his own belt. That morning Cully had given him the ray gun, suggesting that it could be of more use to the foot travelers. Now, as his hand closed around the butt, Dard was very glad that he held it. There was something about this ill-omened place—something in the very silence which brooded there-that hinted of danger.
A screen of stubby thorn bushes masked the far end of the narrow ravine, hinting at the presence of moisture, although the prickly leaves had a grayish, unhealthy cast.
The two worked their way through these as carefully and noiselessly as possible and found a seeping spring. Minerals salted the lip of the water-filled depression, and a greenish powder was dry along the banks of the rivulet which trickled on down the valley.
Chemical fumes from the water scented the air, but not heavy enough to cover the other sickish effluvium.
They should have beaten their way through the brush to the other side of the valley and climbed out of that tainted hole. But no broken ledges hung over there to furnish climbing aids, and they followed the stream along in the search for an easier path.
The contaminated water spilled out into a shallow stinking pool with a broad rim of the poisonous green.
Grouped around the far perimeter of the pool, half buried in the sand, were such things as nightmares are made of! Their dingy yellowish-green skins were scaled with the stigmata of the reptile. But the creatures drowsing in the sun were not even as wholesome as the snakes most humans shrink from with age-old inbred horror. These were true monsters—evil. Gorged, they had fallen in a stupor among the grisly fragments of their feasting, and from those fragments and the smeared sand came a stench foul enough to suggest that this was a long used lair.
Dard estimated that they were from seven to ten feet long. The hind legs, ending in huge webbed feet, mere stems of bone laced with powerful driving muscles. Short, horribly stained forearms had terrible travesties of human hands which curved over their protruding bellies, each finger a ten-inch claw. But their heads were the worst, too small for the bodies, flat of skull, they were mounted on unusually long and slender necks, giving the impression of a cobra on the shoulders of a lizard.
As the two humans halted, a flap of loose skin on the belly of the nearest nightmare was pushed aside and a small replica of the monster drew itself out of a sac and wobbled weakly down to the water, curling its neck over to suck up the liquid. After it swallowed the first mouthful, some instinct drew its attention to the watchers. With a shrill hiss it scrambled back to its parent. The head of the larger thing snapped up, swaying back and forth, a snake preparing to strike!
Dard threw himself back, carrying Santee with, him. They were brought up short by the cliff wall, but they dared not turn their backs upon the aroused monster long enough to find hand and foot holds there.
The thing across the pool was on its feet, towering far over them. With a cuff of one paw it sent the infant sprawling to safety before it slewed around kicking up blood-clotted sand. The flat serpent’s head went down to a level with the lizardlike shoulders, and from its fanged jaws came a hiss which gathered volume until it rivaled the piercing whistle of a steam-powered engine.
That battle cry aroused its fellow sleepers. But they arose sluggishly, too torpid from their feasting to respond.
Santee shot. The nerve-paralyzing projectile of the stun rifle struck fair between those murderous yellow, unwinding eyes. The skull shattered with a spatter of green ooze. But the thing waded the pool to rush, them, tearing claws outstretched. It should have been dead. But with a broken, empty skull, blinded, it came on!
“No brain in the head!” Dard shouted. “Jump!”
They jumped apart. The advancing horror struck hard against the cliff to cling there stubbornly clawing at the rock. It continued to scream senselessly, bringing the others of its kind into full alertness.
One gave a bound, clearing the pool, to fall upon its wounded companion with tearing jaws and claws. The other three appeared undecided. Their snake heads rose and fell as they hissed. One made to join the battle on the other side of the pool and then retreated.
Daring to hesitate no longer, Dard took careful aim with the ray gun and sent a green beam straight into the distended middle of the creature that rocked from one splayed foot to another on his right. The Terrans had to clear a path past the pool, for to return near the fighters was sure death.
Screaming madly, Dard’s quarry clapped both hands over the frightful gaping emptiness the ray had left and wilted forward into the water, sending up a slimy spray of blood and poisonous liquid. With the attention of its two fellows attracted to its struggles Dard darted to join Santee.
Together the humans edged along the cliff wall, their goal the valley beyond the pool. For a few minutes it seemed that they might be able to gain it undetected by the monsters. For one of the unhurt creatures had gone to work on the body in the pool. But when its smaller companion made to join it, fangs and talons threatened, forcing that other to withdraw, hissing fury. As its head swung back and forth it sighted the Terrans. An arching leap brought it after them. Both the length and speed of that bound panicked the cornered men. They scrambled into the meager protection offered by the boulders and fallen rock. Santee’s second bullet tore a hole in the sealed breast of the pursuer without slowing its charge. Dard pressed the firing stud on the ray gun. But the responding beam was weak. It clipped the side of thee weaving head, shearing off part of the skull and one eye, and cutting neck muscles so badly that the battered head flopped erratically.
Dard fired again—with no result. The clip left in the weapon must have been exhausted! His ears roared as Santee shot from beside him. But the bullet only nicked the shoulder of the writhing body. Despairing they scuttled and backed away, keeping in among the rough footing. But they were past the pool, in the middle of the valley, on a course which paralleled a path worn deep and smooth by the feet of the monsters.
The scream of the hunter behind them was cut by a trumpeting squeal. A second was bearing down to join in the chase.
“Ahead—three—four—yards”—Dard got out the words between tearing breaths—“hole-too-small—“
He concentrated on reaching that haven, and Santee ran beside him. The hole was a perfectly round one, and from it ran the monorail of the ancient transport system. They threw themselves into the dark, scrambling on until Dard brought up against a heavy object which gave under his weight, slipping on so suddenly that he sprawled face down, the wind driven out of him.