Crimson Skies

Part 4 - Oily Skin

Aila wakes groggily, the way one wakes shortly after falling into deep slumber, thoughts appear clouded still and it seems to take the body time to connect with the brain again.

            She sits, pushing red curls from her round face. Her cheek is strangely oily. She rubs the black gooey substance between her fingers and examines it closely.

            “Aila?” Sarla peers down at her, noting the perplexed expression on her face. “Are you okay?”

            She looks up, blinking big brown eyes. “Yes... Fine.”

            Sarla helps her to her feet. Even though the wind makes this gesture obsolete, the girls dust down their clothes. Sarla then shakes out her blanket, red fine sand mists round them and their clothes once again peppered crimson. They soon learn to accept, down here the colour of blood is everywhere.

 Aila is the first to notice. “Jex... Where is your bag? The blanket?” She asks quietly.

            Sarla cringes at the hint of caution in her voice; it pains her to see how her cousin tiptoes around him.

            “Just say thank you and forget about it,” he snaps.

            Sarla’s eyebrows knit together and her mouth opens though a simple touch makes her close it again.

            Dyle places his hand on her shoulder and immediately she backs down, glancing up at him with pale eyes. “Let this one go,” he hushes her. Then he turns his attention to Aila. “You are a very lucky girl.”

            Somehow, that in itself makes her weary. But she drops the subject and follows in line behind Jex. For a distance ahead of them, the ledge is meters wide. They walk along the dangerous ledge; at least the fall is a quick Death. Even though the ledge has widened some meters now, they still walk dangerously close to the edge, giving the whittled wall a wide birth. At least if they slip and fall, Death to the ground is a quick one. What lurks within the holes and tunnels is far less... merciful.

            Jex storms ahead of them furious with himself. Giving away half their food was a terrible idea, they were never convinced they could make it across as it was, but now he just cannot ignore the demanding doubt.

The girls huddle together, speaking in whispers. Dyle falls back, if they need to whisper, their words clearly are not for his ears. He allows them their privacy. They move along  the edge.

            Sarla reaches down to pick up a long thick walking stick.

Dyle’s green eyes widen with horror. At once, both him and Aila are connected with Sarla’s every movement, as if time slows down for them to take in everything around them. They realise the threat long before she is able to. Dyle reaches out for her, his panicked shout catches in his throat knowing he has fallen to far back to catch her.

Aila turns, red locks flying around her. Outstretched hand only just grips onto Sarla’s pleading fingers as the girl whisks away.  Aila jumps forward, hoping to give her hand extra reach, but her cousin is pulled from range and Aila lands on the dirt just in front of her.

Sarla’s body barely hits the ground before dragged towards the crevices. Arms out stretched, her stomached scrapped raw by the carpet of rocks and sand. Her cries, ghastly and desperate, her pale eyes seem more alive and vivid than they have ever shone.

Aila worms furiously after her. Her eyes cannot focus on the thing that has Sarla, if she tried the terror of seeing it alone would stop her in her tracks and she must not let it take her cousin. Aila slips in red liquid. A trail she chases left by tearing wounds along Sarla’s face, arms, stomach and legs. Her cousin’s blood coats her body.

            Jex and Dyle kick back the inky shadows flying from the darkness and scratching at the boys’ faces. These are not the same things that have Sarla, these are summoned by screaming. They gather in swarms; as if they feed off the tragic sound, feed off the energy of those dying.

            Aila finally locks her hands around Sarla’s wrists and both girls vanish into the tunnels.