Bridger: a Dystopian Serial

Survive long enough

A choking scream echoed through the cavern. Venn jerked at the viscous webbing with all his strength.

It had released-just a little it had released. Venn strained with all his might. The web began to stretch. His arm extended further and further from his body.

"I'm coming," he grunted.

A long way off, his fellow explorer cried out again.

Venn's face contorted with effort. The membranous binding stretched thin. Soon it would break.

His arm reached its full length. The thread was only a hair now. Ven jerked his hand down. Suddenly the webbing snapped back, and his own hand slapped him in the face. He tasted blood.

The scream rattled him, thinner, weaker. Suddenly it cut off.

Venn lay pinned beneath the web, willing the man to scream again. A minute passed in silence.

"No!" Venn cried. "No!"

"Hey, Hey!"

Something touched his arm.

Venn's eyes snapped open.

The healer creature standing over him, gazing down with pity.

Venn suppressed a scream of rage. Here he was in this unknown place, safe indefinitely and completely alone in that safety.

By Eskalon, he'd rather be dead, but he was not dead and therefore he had no choice but to get this creature's pity.

"I'm sorry," Venn said. "It was a dream."

"I guessed you much." I could give you something to help you sleep. The healer gazed down with eyes as dark as Kemzog stones. For a moment, Venn was distracted by the shiny, black tail attached to the back of the creature's head. It was hair, was not it?

"But on second thought, there is no guarantee with your body chemistry," the healer continued.

"You are likely to be right," Venn said. "Thank you."

Venn rolled carefully onto his side and pulled the spare pillow towards him, wrapping his arms around it. His eyes shut up and he will be himself every time you go out of your way, every breath, the voices of the outside, the gusting wind outside. Gradually all of them fell away and he heard it: the three melodic tones of the portal. It was not that hard to home in them. He'd be in the Kaa lair listening to them for three nights.

Once in a while, he may have been healed and mayher He could leap through the portal, and maybe the others had a chance to make it back to base.

He'd face his leader, but he would also have the chance to make his peace with Jezeen.

Jezeen! Venn's throat thickened as he remembered their last night together, back to back in each other's arms. How unfortunate that he was right-Leader Ryn should not have felt in his uncharted territory with such inexperienced bridgers. Jezeen would regret her words to him now, but he was sure he regretted his just as much.

Venn stuffed his face into the odd-smelling pillow and tried to imagine it smelted like her. When that failed he just tried to remember what she smelled like-her sweats, and the flower oil she dabbed behind her ears. He shut up his eyes and imagined his arms were around her long, muscular body.

He had started to worry. She was the natural explorer, a strong woman who'd actually wanted to be a bridger. He was forced into the position of his father, and although he was known to speak in his native tongue, he was also known for his outstanding surety. She is known for her courage and instinct.