The Survivors

CHAPTER 22

A golden cloud of spores rushed up the tunnel and surrounded the fleeing dwarves. Bradok could feel the spores burning his arm where the Rhizomorph’s tongue had touched him. His eyes teared up, making it hard for him to see as he ran, holding his breath.

An uneven spot in the floor caused him to stumble, and he fell flat on his face, the air rushing from his lungs upon impact. Pain shot through his body like lightning. His side felt as if it were on fire, and his shoulder as though someone were trying to twist his arm from his body. It took all his willpower not to take a breath and suck in a lungful of spores. He leaped back to his feet and ran. He could feel himself getting dizzy from the lack of air; then the cave before him began to shimmer on its own. Staggering, he put out his hand to guide himself along the wall of the tunnel.

Rough hands grabbed him and dragged him forward. He stumbled on as best he could, until the pain in his arm seemed to subside.

“You can breathe now,” Kellik’s voice came out of the fog.

Gasping and coughing, Bradok sank to his knees and shook his head to clear the dizziness.

“Here they come again,” Thurl said behind him.

Bradok heard the hiss of steel blades whistling through the air and the wet sound as they struck diseased flesh. He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the searing pain in his side, and raised his sword.

Behind him the dwarves and Perin were hacking and slashing at the Rhizomorphs crowding the hallway. A pile of severed limbs and unidentifiable chunks of flesh were strewn on the ground. The Rhizomorphs fought with their hands, rending flesh whenever they could with their long, clawlike nails. Occasionally one of their pink tongues would lash out at an opponent’s exposed flesh.

As Bradok moved up behind Thurl and Much, one of the ghastly creatures spat a wad of yellow goo directly at them. Much ducked, and Thurl dodged, but the wad hit Bradok on his shirt. The yellow substance appeared to contain some of the spores from the yellow cloud.

While being careful not to cut himself, Bradok scraped off the spores with his sword and flung them to the ground.

Just then someone cried out in pain. “My eyes,” bellowed an older dwarf named Serl, falling over onto his back and clawing at his face.

The Rhizomorph in front of him stepped into the gap and leaned down, trying to take a bite out of Serl’s leg. Bradok stepped forward and chopped the creature’s head from its body.

He moved to the fallen hill dwarf and saw that the yellow goo covered his face.

“Tal!” he yelled, dropping his sword and reaching painfully for his waterskin.

Tal was there in an instant. The doctor bore many cuts and scratches on his arms, a testament to his intense combat. “Hold him,” he said, pulling out his own waterskin, for Bradok was still struggling to produce his.

Bradok tried to keep Serl still as Tal washed the muck from his eyes. With only one good arm, it wasn’t an easy task.

“Duck,” he heard Thurl yell, and instinctively Bradok hurled himself sideways.

A long pink Rhizomorph tongue sailed over his head and struck the cave wall. Someone severed it, and the next instant it fell, writhing, on the floor. Bradok kicked it away in disgust.

Bradok picked up his sword and got painfully to his feet. The remaining defenders had killed and dismembered enough of the Rhizomorphs that now only a handful remained. Little by little, the dwarves and Perin were driving the monsters back.

Bradok moved among the still-flailing limbs and bodies, striking the heads of any that appeared still capable of causing trouble.

A few moments more, and it was over. Bradok stood on weak legs. He slowly moved his sword across his body, trying to catch the tip of it where it belonged, in the top of his scabbard.

“Are you all right, lad?” Much asked, taking Bradok’s sword for him and slipping it into the empty scabbard.

He nodded, feeling tremendous exhaustion.

“You’re bleeding again,” Thurl said in a disapproving voice.

Bradok looked down to see a red stain soaking through the bandage on his side. “There’s no time,” he said, pushing Much’s hand away. “I’ll be fine. We need to get back to the main group and spur them to keep going. There’s no telling how long it will take the rest of these walking mushrooms to catch up with us.”

“Yeah,” Chisul agreed. “Stay ahead of them.” The big dwarf was cradling his left arm, which appeared to have been burned by acid.

Bradok held up his own arm, looking at the wound, and realized that it was burned like Chisul’s, though not so badly.

“I counted about twenty in this group,” Perin said. “How many more can there be …?” He let the question trail off glumly.

“Can he walk?” Bradok asked about Serl.

Tal waved his hands in front of Serl’s eyes. The big dwarf’s eyes appeared white and watery and didn’t follow Tal’s hand.

“He’s been blinded,” Tal explained. “It might just be temporary; I can’t tell yet.”

“Well, I might be blind, but I’m not deaf,” Serl said, sitting up. “And I can still walk. One of you lead me along and I’ll do fine.”

Corin and Vulnar each took one of Serl’s hands, guiding him quickly up the passage. Bradok started after them, more slowly, hampered by his wound.

“Keep going until you find the others,” Bradok called. “I’ll catch up.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Thurl said.

“Tell Rose to use the compass,” Bradok called as the other dwarves began to outpace him. “She’ll know what to do.”

Bradok and Thurl walked along in silence and darkness, their eyes adjusting to the lack of light. Finally, when Bradok could no longer hear the tread of the dwarves in front of them, Thurl paused. He stretched his arm out from his cloak. He’d wrapped a handkerchief around his forearm. A large, dark stain covered it.

“This may be a problem,” he said, showing his wound to Bradok.

“What happened?” Bradok said, panting with the effort of walking.

“One of them bit me,” Thurl said.

“Before or after the spore cloud?” Bradok asked.

“After,” Thurl said. “I’m worried about it.” Such a declaration seemed out of character for the normally stoical Daergar.

“Corin said no one knows how the Zhome is spread,” Bradok said. “I think that if it was spread in such a mundane way as bites, Corin would know about it.”

“Still,” Thurl said. “Rose has the Zhome on her arm, right where she was scratched in our first encounter with the Rhizomorphs.”

“True,” Bradok agreed worriedly.

“Almost everyone was wounded this time,” Thurl said. “We may all be infected.”

Bradok sighed heavily. “Well, we’ll just have to deal with that somehow,” he said.

“How?” Thurl asked. “If we’re infected, sooner or later, we become Rhizomorphs. If that happens, we become a danger to everyone, so it stands to reason that before anything like that happens …” He let the sentence trail off.

“I see what you mean,” Bradok said grimly. “We either have to abandon those who carry the Zhome germ at some point, or we have to kill them.”

“Such decisions are difficult,” Thurl said. “But perhaps they are made more easily and rationally in advance, when we are discussing the problem in the abstract and no one particular person’s life is on the line.”

Bradok wondered at Thurl’s resoluteness. “What do you suggest?”

Thurl reached into his belt and pulled out a small crystal phial. “A few drops of this in someone’s waterskin before bed, and they’ll never wake again,” he said. “Quick and painless.”

Bradok thought about it, not answering for a long time. Perhaps Thurl’s idea was the most humane option, but as the group’s leader, the decision would fall to him. He would have to decide when to abandon or kill those who suffered from the Zhome. He would have to decide whether to abandon or kill Rose. But as leader, wasn’t it his responsibility to act on behalf of the group?

“Thank you, Thurl,” Bradok said, quietly. “If the time comes that we have to let one of our own go, I will keep your idea in mind.”

“I live to serve,” he said in response.

“Where did you get that potion, may I ask?” Bradok asked.

“I’ve had this for the last thirteen years,” came the reply. “I keep it secret. Keeping things secret is my trade.”

They walked together for more than an hour before they caught up to the other survivors. The main group had stopped in a cavern sparsely dotted with Reorx’s torch mushrooms, giving off light that reflected off the damp ground. A pool of water fed by a waterfall was off to one side, filling the cavern with cool spray and a damp smell. A shallow, fast-moving stream ran away from the pool, across the floor, and into a deep fissure against the opposite wall.

A small knot of dwarves had gathered around Tal. Rose saw Bradok approaching and immediately hurried over.

“You’d better come quick,” she said, her face pale.

In his wounded condition, Bradok had expended most of his energy just putting one foot in front of the other. Hurrying was no longer possible for him, but he lurched after her.

Rose shooed away some of the crowd so he could get through them. Serl lay on the ground with Tal kneeling over him. When Bradok got a look at the dwarf’s face, he felt like retching. Mushrooms were already growing out of Serl’s eyes and nose. He lay on the ground as though dead; the only sign he gave of life were the ragged breaths that came at infrequent intervals.

Bradok glanced at Tal, but the doctor could only shrug and shake his head.

Suddenly Bradok’s arm was jerked up in the air so hard and fast that he gasped at the lancing pain. It was Corin who had done it, and the Daergar was staring at his arm. Bradok saw it too: A tiny mushroom had embedded itself in the wound left by the tongue.

“It’s a spore,” Corin said.

Bradok squinted and saw that, at the base of the mushroom there was a small, opaque seed, about the size of an orange seed.

“We’ve got to get it out before it takes hold,” Corin warned.

Bradok nodded. Tal approached with a pair of long metal tongs and, taking hold of the seed, yanked it out. Bradok grunted as it trailed a small root that had already begun burrowing in his flesh.

“Check everyone who fought,” he said, rubbing his arm ruefully. “Strip down and look everywhere.”

The thought of Zhome spores growing in their flesh had the usually modest dwarves stripped bare in moments. There was a gasp as Chisul took off his shirt; a row of tiny mushrooms were growing in his back, right where Bradok had seen the gray patches before.

“There’s nothing to be done,” Tal said quietly once he’d examined Chisul. “It’s as bad as Rose’s arm.”

Chisul nodded with dismay; he and the others had suspected that Rose was infected, but after the fight, so many of them were.

Everyone was checked over and over, and twelve spore growths were found. Those were removed as best as they could, but it was possible they were all doomed. Bradok was just too spent and sore to care. When they were finished, he pulled Rose aside.

“I’m not sure I can go on,” he told her, “and there’s no one fit enough to carry me. I want you to take everyone ahead without me. I’ll catch up if I can.”

Rose just shook her head. “Everyone’s spent,” she said. “It’s only terror that drove them this far. We need to rest.”

“If the Rhizomorphs are close-” Bradok began, but Rose silenced him.

“Yes, we may die if we rest here,” she said. “But if we push on, you and the children and the other wounded may collapse from exhaustion. I’d rather make a stand and fight the Rhizomorphs when we’re fresh, not when we’re too done-in from running.”

Bradok thought about that for a moment then shrugged. “We should find a defensible spot,” he said then added, “just in case.”

A surprised look crossed Rose’s face, and she drew out the compass from a pouch on her belt. “It’s like it heard your words. It jumped,” she said, holding it out to Bradok.

Bradok took the compass and opened it. The glowing mist swirled inside, but the Seer did not appear. Confused, he closed the lid and examined it. The engraving around the purple stone had changed again. Bradok took the compass over by one of the glowing mushrooms and squinted down to peer at the tiny letters.

“In the damp hollow ye can hide, so long as no sound comes from inside,” Bradok read.

“Maybe it means that crack where the little river disappears,” Rose said, pointing.

“But what does this mean, about no sound?” he wondered.

“Stay here,” Rose said. “I’ll check it out.”

Bradok gratefully eased himself down onto the damp floor while Rose took one of the lanterns over to where the stream of water disappeared. He’d closed his eyes for only a minute when someone materialized beside him, sitting down.

“Have you had a chance to look at that metal book?” Tal asked.

Bradok knew what the dwarf wasn’t saying. The metal book might be their only hope against the Zhome and the Rhizomorphs.

“No,” he said. “How’s Serl doing?”

“There’s nothing else I can do for him,” Tal said, discouraged. “I fear he hasn’t got much time left.”

“What about Chisul and Rose?” Bradok asked as evenly as he could.

“I don’t know,” Tal replied. “All we can do is watch.”

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but Rose picked that moment to return.

“That crack looks to go all the way to the center of Krynn,” she said. “I don’t think there’s anything down there.”

Bradok shrugged. “Try the waterfall,” he said.

Rose left again, and Bradok explained about the inscription on the compass to the confused Tal.

“Even if we find a place to hide,” Tal said, “we still have to do something about Serl.”

Bradok nodded. He intended to ignore that problem as long as he could.

“Found it,” Rose said, returning, her hair dripping wet. “There’s a small cave behind the waterfall. You can’t even spot it from outside, and you have to wade through the water to get inside. It should be big enough for everyone.”

“All right,” Bradok said, getting up very slowly. “Let’s get everyone inside and settled. No time to waste.”

The cave was exactly as Rose described. A little sandbar ran along the cave wall where the waterfall poured down. When Bradok ducked through the flow, he found himself in a surprisingly wide cave with a damp, musty smell. The walls and floor were stone, and Bradok had to steady himself, for his weak feet wanted to go sliding out from under him on the slick surface.

One by one, the dwarves entered. Bradok sent the women and children to the back, leaving the ground by the water’s edge for the warriors. He almost laughed at the thought. Thurl was the only one of them who had anything close to warrior training. They were just simple, ordinary folk, doing whatever they could to survive.

Tal and Kellik brought Serl in on the stretcher and laid him down near the water. Corin stayed out long enough to brush away any sign of their flight into the cave.

“You’ve got to exert yourself less,” Tal said, coming up beside Bradok. “You started bleeding again.” He opened his bag and pulled out the strips of cloth that he used for bandages. He repacked the wound and wound a bandage tightly around Bradok’s stomach, making it a little difficult for him to breathe normally.

The shoulder wound wasn’t as deep and seemed to be mending well, though Tal recommended Bradok still keep it in the sling.

“Let’s take a look at that ear,” Tal said finally. He unwound the wrapping and peeled away a bloody wad of something.

“Can you hear all right?” he asked, snapping his fingers in front of Bradok’s face.

“It’s a bit faint on the right side,” he said.

“That’s to be expected when you lose an ear,” Tal said. “It doesn’t look too bad. We’ll need to change the packing every few days, and it should be scabbed over well enough in a week or so.”

“Serl’s awake,” Corin said, coming over with Kellik and Rose. “He wants you.”

Bradok made his way over to where Serl lay. The old dwarf was trembling as if he were freezing, and his skin had a gray pallor.

“Bradok,” he gasped, reaching out to take the proffered hand. “I can hear them.”

“Hear who?” Bradok asked.

“The Rhizomorphs,” he said. “I can hear them talking, in my mind. They’re looking for us. They’re trying to use me to find us.”

Bradok didn’t know what to say.

“I won’t let them,” Serl croaked. “I need your help, though.” He gripped Bradok’s hand tightly. “I wish you to end my life. I’m no use to you alive. I’m no use to them dead.”

Bradok wanted to protest, but he didn’t know what to say. Serl’s bravery and selflessness moved him.

“Thurl,” he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but as he suspected, the assassin seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“You called,” he said.

Bradok handed the Daergar Serl’s water bag.

“Thurl is putting something in your water,” he told Serl.

Serl nodded, understanding.

“Thank you,” Serl said to Bradok, tears leaking from the corners of his milky white eyes. “You’ve done a splendid job, my boy,” he added softly. “Get the rest of these people to safety.”

“I’m sorry,” Bradok said.

“Don’t be,” Serl said, a smile creeping across his face. “I’ve lived a long time, and I’ve had a good life. I have no regrets, except that I won’t be around to celebrate when you reach safety.”

Thurl pressed the bag into Serl’s hands.

“Now if you don’t mind,” he said, releasing Bradok’s hand. “I think I’d like to be alone.”

Bradok put his hand under his leg and painfully forced himself to his feet.

“Don’t bother about burying me,” Serl added stoically. “As soon as you can, get yourself out of here and to safety.”

“I will,” Bradok promised; then he and Thurl turned and walked away.

Rose had laid out Bradok’s cloak with his pack for a pillow. Knowing what had just transpired, they all watched Bradok, waiting for him to say something. Rose wondered what he was feeling.

“We’ll set a watch tonight,” Corin said as Rose helped Bradok lie back on the makeshift bed.

“What do we tell everyone in the morning?” she asked finally when Bradok quietly announced that Serl had wished to die.

“The truth,” Bradok said gruffly. “That Serl died peacefully in his sleep. Now, everyone, get some rest.”

Rose and Tal stood and left. Corin remained, considering Bradok for what seemed like a long time.

“Something on your mind?” Bradok asked.

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” Corin said. “We Daergar are taught that you higher-ups are all soft and spineless. I see some of that is wrong. You did what you had to do.”

“Thanks,” Bradok said, not sure if he was flattered or offended by such remarks.

“I had a mind to stay with you only until we got somewhere where I could get my bearing, then go my own way,” Corin added. “But now I think I’d like to stick by you for a while.”

“Why?” Bradok asked.

“I figure we’ve got a better chance at survival with you than with anyone else,” Corin said. “You’ve grown as a leader. You don’t want to make the hard decisions, but you do anyway.”

Corin pulled up his hood, making his face disappear into shadow. “Get some rest,” he said, looking out over the sleeping band of dwarves. “I have a feeling tomorrow will be a very long day.”

He strode away without a backward glance. Bradok turned to where Serl lay, a still figure draped with a cloak. He knew he couldn’t sleep; there were too many things weighing on his mind.

Within three minutes he had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep born of exhaustion.