EARTH ONLINE

Chapter 10 — You Smell of Something Nasty

He fell fast, down what felt like a long earthen shaft, his body slamming off the walls — and with the iron his skin had become, the dirt didn't hurt; only the falling itself was beyond his control.

Maybe a minute. Maybe an hour. Then his feet hit flat ground.

It was black, total black, hand-in-front-of-your-face black. Cole crouched and pressed his palm to the earth — damp, wet soil. He steadied his breathing and listened, and when he heard nothing he began to feel his way through the dark, careful, mapping the space by touch.

Three minutes and he'd found nothing.

Then, above him, a familiar thudding. He pulled his hand back and watched the dark overhead. Half a minute later a heavy shape slammed down with a yelp: "Ow — God, where am I—"

Cole said quietly, "Wes?"

The voice cut off. A pause. "…Cole?"

Before he could answer, more bodies came down, one after another, swearing and groaning. Cole counted. Including himself, seven.

A light snapped on — a flashlight, blinding in the dark. Everyone's head turned to the source: a thin, sickly girl, fifteen at most, holding the light in shaking hands. "I— I brought a flashlight. It was so dark, I just turned it on."

A man in a suit, sharp and corporate, nodded and walked over. "Could I borrow it? I'll get a look at where we are."

She handed it over. He swept the cavern, came back, and jammed the flashlight upright into the soil so its beam threw the space into dim relief and they could all see one another's faces.

He sat by the light. "Let's introduce ourselves. I'm Ben — twenty-nine, I work in PR. Nobody knows what's going on, but I'd bet it's the Spire. The only thing we can do is stick together — use the strength of the group to protect each of us before the Spire throws something at us."

The girl, who'd already half-trusted him, sat next. "I'm Penny. I'm fifteen, eighth grade. You can— you can call me Penny."

The others hung back. Cole stood and crossed to the light, and Ben and Penny looked up at him. He gave a small smile. "Cole. Twenty-three. Librarian."

Wes didn't understand why Cole suddenly trusted these two, but he scrambled over too. "Wes, twenty-five, professionally unemployed and living off my parents."

Four had clustered; the last three set their jaws and joined.

"Lena. Twenty. College."

"Zane. Thirty-two. I was a cook, till that tower showed up and my boss bolted — so, also unemployed."

Last was a quiet, bespectacled man who sat slowly, let his eyes travel over the group — lingering on Ben and Cole — and finally said, "Lucan. Twenty-eight. Game designer."

That was the seven of them, more or less acquainted.

Then a bright child's voice rang through the cavern.

> [ Ding-dong! Spire, First Floor — Moron Mode — now open. Seven-person survival game loading… ]

> [ Sandbox generating… Game data loading… ]

> [ Main Quest issued: Seven chosen by God — please try ever so hard to stay alive! ]

Dead silence.

"Game?" Wes said at last, tight. "That was the Spire, I know that voice. A survival game — what does that mean—"

"Quiet," said Cole and Lucan, at the same moment.

They glanced at each other. Cole frowned. "Do you hear that?"

Everyone held their breath. Then Lena, the college girl, went wide-eyed. "Digging," she whispered. "That's digging. I play survival games — that's the sound effect for digging. Something's digging toward us."

Ben shot to his feet. "That direction."

They all stood, facing a wall of soil. The sound grew. Closer. Closer. The last thin layer of earth caved in, and a blood-red glow lit up the dark, and a pair of small eyes raked across all seven of them as an enormous clawed shape hauled itself out of the tunnel and into the cavern.

A mole. A mole over six feet at the shoulder, a beast the size of a truck, and when it reared up it seemed to press the whole ceiling down. It dropped a turkey the size of a small child onto the floor and ground its knife-long teeth together with a sound that crawled up the spine.

It drooled, and laughed a strange wet laugh. "How good the Spire is to me today. I was just about to eat my turkey, and it sent me fuel. Seven whole humans — just enough to roast this bird and sprinkle it with lovely spices. Oh, thank you, Spire. Happy Thanksgiving!"

Zane the cook — who'd just been talking about caving someone's skull in — took three steps back from the thing and then turned and ran.

"Don't move!" Cole snapped.

Too late. The mole crossed the cavern like a thrown spear and backhanded him into the wall. Zane dropped, coughing blood, and didn't get up.

The little eyes swept the other six and settled on the skinny fifteen-year-old. "This one's the leanest — you'll be my kindling. The fattest I'll save for last; a turkey wants a hot fire at the finish. That's my secret. That's the tastiest way."

"No—" Penny bolted; the mole flashed in front of her and seized her by the head, dragging her back. She shrieked. Ben grabbed her right foot, teeth bared. "It can't take her — it takes her, we're next!"

Cole was not cold enough to watch a child carried off in front of him. He caught her other foot; Wes, shaking, grabbed a leg; Lena found her nerve and grabbed the last. And Lucan stamped down — at a vicious angle, square on the nail of the mole's smallest toe. The thing howled. The nail was iron-hard, drew no blood, but the pain made it let go of her head, and they hauled her back.

The mole roared. "I'll use all of you for kindling and roast my bird!"

> [ Ding-dong! Side Quest 1 unlocked: Roast a turkey for cute little Uncle Mole. ]

Cute?!

Every one of them wanted, in that instant, to tear the Spire apart with their bare hands.

The mole swatted Ben away. The girls scattered. "Don't run!" Cole barked. "We have to stay together — split up and it picks us off!" Penny ran anyway; she was a child, and terror is a child's right. Lena made herself come back.

"Catch!" Lucan wrenched two legs off the turkey and threw one to Cole — misjudged the force, and it landed by Lena's feet instead. The bird was enormous and its drumsticks were hard as bats, real weapons. Lucan took one, Lena the other, and the two of them charged.

The mole had been mid-swing at Ben; it turned at the noise. Ben, flat on his back, threw his shaking arms around one of its legs. "Now!"

Lucan and Lena came in from both sides and brought the drumsticks down — and the mole flung up both claws to guard its head, and the turkey legs cracked against them in a spray of metal sparks.

It lowered its claws, unhurried, grinding those teeth. "I'll burn you. I'll burn you all and roast my bird."

Flat on the ground, Ben still clung to its leg — and then his eyes lit, because Cole was charging in from behind, straight at the thing.

With nothing in his hands.

Not so much as a turkey leg. The hope went out of Ben like a doused flame. "Don't throw your life away!"

In the space of a blink, a giant match appeared in Cole's hand. No one saw where it came from. Zane was down and out across the cavern; Penny had fled who knew where; Ben, Lucan, and Lena stared at the thing in pure astonishment.

The match came down with a sound of cleaved air that promised real violence.

They watched, electric, as it fell toward the mole's skull —

— and the mole reached up and caught it, neat as anything.

Cole's heart dropped through the floor along with theirs. The force had shoved the beast back two steps; it had done nothing else. The mole held the match and looked down at him.

Cole pressed his lips flat and raced his mind through every other use his miserable ability might have.

But the mole didn't strike. It cocked its head, holding the match in its left claw, propping its big face on its right — a pose half the dogs in the world would know — and said, "Hm? Why do you have Mosaic's match?" Its bright red nose worked the air twice. It sniffed, opened its eyes, and said, puzzled and delighted: "Ahh. You smell of Mosaic. A nasty, nasty stink."

Cole said nothing.