The flight had been mercifully short and surprisingly painless. After a few minutes, when Clara felt relatively sure she wouldn't be dropped from a great height, or eaten as an in-flight meal, she had opened her eyes. The aerial skills of the creatures lacked any form of grace, each stroke of their massive wings made them bobbed up and down like tiny boats in an ocean storm, weaving to the left or the right as they went. It had been a nauseating and strangely invigorating experience. They had flown over a wide waterfall, low enough that the cool spray dampened her face, and then headed along the river's path until they landed, in ungainly fashion, on solid ground.
Clara's haranguing had been largely ignored as they trotted across sandy soil. The only acknowledgement she has received for her efforts was a vigorous shaking that rattled her teeth and brought her dangerously close to the jaws of another member of the pack who had snapped at her head eagerly. They had padded their way through a maze of tunnels to a lair in the middle of a hollow canyon with vertical sides worn smooth by a river many millennia ago. The canyon would, under many other circumstances, have been awe-inspiring, with arches and blow holes stretching up into the tunnel roof. Several minutes of walking later Clara knew tracing the same route out would be impossible, and the intrinsic magnificence of the place was lost as a dread began to settle uncomfortably in her stomach.
The orange light from above dwindled as its rays reached into the depths of the canyon and the channels through which Clara had been carried were filled with pockets of long shadow. Despite the lack of visible directional markers Clara knew where they were headed by smell alone, and it had made her skin prick with sweat.
The path and entrance to the lair had been scent marked by every member of the pack, a pungent odour of urine and faeces wafted unpleasantly towards them and the cave itself reeked of week old carrion and hummed with the buzz of flies. Tossed into a small hole in the back wall of the cave, a dark, dirty place with a stack of gnawed bones at one side, Clara had struggled to breathe normally as the combined foul smells filled her lungs. But no amount of smothering her nose with clothing could dampen the fetor and so Clara had removed her drool covered sweater and hung it over a rocky outcrop after using it to dry the worst of the sticky, wet, mess from her hair.
Now Clara sat cross legged on rock floor of a tiny cave drumming her fingers rhythmically on her thighs, shivering in the cool air. With no immediate escape evident, she took her time to observe every detail of her predicament. A tiny pocket, blown into the side of the larger chamber, formed her cage. A low ceiling tapered steadily into the blackness behind her, the back wall impossible to see in the pale orange light. The fissure's mouth, wide enough for a giant paw to enter, reminded Clara of a skirting board Mousehole, and old Hanna Barbera cartoons skipped unhelpfully through her mind.
Beyond the rim of her prison the crazed, winged, hyaenas prowled; growling and grizzling at each other, teeth snarling and lips curling each time one came too close. Her principle captor appeared to be the alpha male of the pack; a powerful old beast with healed gouges in his jowls and a cracked, scarred, breastplate that creaked as he paced the cavern floor. He was larger than most of the others but his tenure as alpha for the pack seemed, to Clara at least, precarious. As soon as she had been tossed from his mouth another, younger, pack member had tried to grab her. The resulting battle had lasted only a few seconds, but the youngster had a new limp to show for his troubles.
Little by little the creatures began to settle down except for one huge fiend with grey eyes. He stood a full foot taller than the alpha male and his girth was half as wide again. Furled, his wings were oddly majestic; tall and broad, and his claws clicked menacingly on the floor as his paced back and forth. His eyes never left Clara, and she carefully did not meet his gaze. Slobber was oozing from his mouth in a long trail that stretched behind him every time he turned. Clara bit her lip as a nervous laugh threatened to escape as she imagined the beast as a large, ill-tempered Bloodhound, drooling over a particularly tasty morsel.
"You're not a very attractive fellow, are you?" she muttered, checking the contents of her pocket to see if her luck was likely to hold true.
A low rumble vibrated through the air and Clara saw the hackles on the back of both beast's necks standing on end. The alpha's rival flicked his tail in annoyance and shifted his gaze from his prey. Other pack members began to shrink backwards and Clara copied them, reversing into the darkness with tiny, cautious steps. The rumbling changed pitch, becoming lower and louder. In an instant the bigger beast had launched himself at the alpha, knocking him aside with a thrust of his immense paw. Clearly not interested in a protracted fight it pounced into the shallow cave and snagged Clara by the waist with its claw, dragging her into the amphitheatre.
Air was crushed from Clara's lungs as the paw flattened her into the rock surface and she wheezed, too dazed by the impact on the floor to struggle. She could only watch as the alpha launched himself across the cave, his breast plate crashing into the side of his adversary with thunderous intensity. In a cloud of dust and blood the two creatures rolled away from Clara and she lay, prone and gasping, in the middle of the cave. The great arches in the ceiling echoed with the snapping, roaring and cracking of metal against breast plate, teeth against bone. The snarling and yelping tumbled away from her and Clara rubbed her eyes clear of dust with filthy hands painfully aware that she was the mouse in the lair. Scrambling into a crouch Clara tried to watch every beast that surrounded her, knowing that with the alpha and his rival otherwise engaged any one of the others could eat her in one mouthful.
As if they read her thoughts three beasts attacked. They met in the middle, crashing into each other and falling into another fight between themselves. Clara rolled out from between their feet, leapt over a sweeping paw and dove for the hole in which she had been prisoner. More padded feet charged in her direction but the roof of the cavern was too small and they could not enter. Two large paws fished into the back of the cave, claws extended to their full length.
Leaping over a claw, Clara threw herself backwards into the cave praying that there was something other than a rock wall waiting to greet her. She fell face first into the dirt, yelped and scrambled forward as the edge of a claw caught her leg, ripping her jeans from the knee. The claw caught in the hem and for a second she was dragged backwards, squirming and kicking ineffectually, but the stitching broke and Clara crawled, commando style, along the floor with rocks scraping her stomach and dirt filling her nostrils until she was sure she was out of their reach. Behind her the snarling and fighting was reaching a climax. The air was filled with particles of dust. Blood and slobber flicked its way into the back of the cave and the baying, snarling and roaring was growing louder.
Still breathing hard, Clara heaved herself up onto her feet remembering at the last second to check the height of the ceiling before standing upright. In a low stoop she walked forward, one hand brushing the ceiling the other stretched out in front. Moving as fast as she dared, Clara worked her way further and further back until she was certain she could see more light ahead of her than behind.
"Where there's light, there's hop," she said, using some of the Doctor's bravado to buoy her spirits.
Clara wormed her way into a narrow channel, crawling on her stomach to slip under a low hanging piece of rock. Though her whole body ached, she knew that if she stopped now she might never move again, so she pushed on, the ceiling get lower and lower until she was forced to lie on her back to wriggle and drag herself along, finding grip wherever she could on the ceiling and floor. The sounds of the pack fight behind her dimmed until they were lost in a new sound, a constant rushing noise that reverberated through the rock.
The tight crawl space ended abruptly and Clara sighed with relief as the ceiling stretched up twenty or thirty feet, into a great chamber of light with a hole carved into the rocks high above where the light blazed through. She sat for a moment feeling every muscle of her body in ways she had never experienced before with sharp pains and dull aches rippling up her back, and a unique throbbing pain in her leg where the claw had ripped through her black, skin tight, jeans. She had expected blood, but on inspection found instead a long thick scratch ran from knee to ankle, deep bruising beginning to turn the skin a deep shade of purple.
"Luck," Clara mused, taking the key from her pocket and observing it closely. "I need this every day. Teaching class 3C on a Monday morning would be a piece of cake with this."
The rushing sound was louder and now, with the heat of the chase ebbing, Clara recognised it as water falling from great height. A wide tunnel opened on the other side of the cavern and a gentle breeze whispered through the air carrying a damp, fresh smell with it. Walking stiffly, her ripped trouser leg flapping as she moved, Clara crossed the cavern and entered the next tunnel. After only twenty steps the noise of the waterfall grew to deafening levels and a new shade of light trickled across the floor with rainbows dancing on the pale rock walls. Spray began to land delicately on Clara's skin, carried on the breeze from the mouth of the tunnel which was now only a few feet in front of her.
From behind the waterfall Clara's view of the rest of the world was obscured. It was hard to tell how far up the waterfall went, but she could see the bottom, just ten feet away, frothing and writhing furiously in a deep, wide pool. A ledge ran both directions, but a rockfall blocked the way to the left, so she turned right and skirted the pouring water cautiously, trying to keep her balance on the wet, slippery surface as she followed a path that curved with the horse shoe falls.
Naturally formed steps descended to another, smaller, waterfall, where the path was less stable but the edge of shore was tangibly close. With only a few steps left to go Clara felt her foot begin to slip on the rocks and her stomach flipped as, in slow motion, she lost her perilous grip. Landing first on her backside she flung out her arms trying to catch anything that would stop, or slow, her decent. With nothing to hold on to Clara began to slide rapidly along a narrow shoot and into a pool of crystal clear water below.
Author's Note:
I have decided to complete this story before uploading any more chapters. This is an attempt to improve the quality of my writing and the experience for the reader. Have no fear; I do not intend to leave you hanging for long. I aim to have this finished by mid to late January. I know I don't have many followers on this little tale but it seems rude not to tell you the loyal few what I am doing. The story will be completed. I've not left a single tale unfinished in my life and this will not be the exception to the rule.
Catch you on the flip side.
CG