Baited

By David Lapp

The most terrifying day of my life was humid and hot—the type of weather that either makes people love summer or wish for winter. I stood in front of Rimlain Canyons, casually scanning the uneven cliff walls with Mr. Krinkleton, a librarian and fellow adventurer. Rumor had it there were riches to be found here, yet many who went searching for them never returned. I was convinced people got lost in the winding passageways, but Mr. Krinkleton thought something more sinister was behind the disappearances.

Last week, another man had gone missing. Mr. Krinkleton claimed he had been a frequent visitor to the library, which apparently made him less prone to get lost or something. I shook my head, bemused. Several years of knowing and exploring with the man, and I’d still never understand him.

Across the ravine, something glinted in the sunlight. I squinted and spotted the dark outline of a small cave. Was that something sparkling at its entrance?

Perhaps there was something to the rumors.

“I’m going down through the bottom,” I announced, trying to sound nonchalant. “To see if I can find any clues or stuff like that. Meet me on the opposite side?”

Mr. Krinkleton eyed me. “Very well. I’ll bring the truck around. I need to make sure I have all our supplies for our trek farther into the canyon.”

I grunted, wondering what was all included in his “supplies.” Mr. Krinkleton was a genius, but he had strange fascinations with medieval times, lamenting the lack of elegance in modern tools.

I scrambled down the cliff face then up the other side. It didn’t take long to reach the cave I had seen earlier—and the trail of glimmering stones disappearing into it. I snatched up the first one and took in its multicolored beauty for a moment before pocketing it. Illuminating the trail with my flashlight, I ventured in, gathering gemstones as I went.

Eventually, I reached a fork in the tunnel. The right side faded into black nothingness, shrouded in a darkness that was nearly palpable. The gems continued to the left, beckoning me. I complied.­­

Suddenly, the trail ended, and instead of finding the source of the gemstones, I saw piles of bones. I shuddered—human bones.

I spun just in time to see the light from the cave entrance disappear as a large figure blocked the way out. I screamed, shining my flashlight on a beast unlike any I had ever seen—similar to a bear, yet far larger and with rubbery skin.

Bending down, the creature shoved a rock into its huge mouth. Sparkling saliva drooled from the corners of its lips, covering the rock in a sheen of a thousand different colors. It was toying with me. Gaping, I thought about what would happen if I could control a beast like this.

But it was not to be. The beast seemed to chuckle, quiet at first until it grew into a full-throated roar. It bared its teeth and ran toward me.

I drew my pistol and fired at its head. Something whistled past my ear. I started, realizing my bullet had simply bounced off the beast’s skin. I looked around for an escape but found none.

Suddenly, the beast stopped and turned. Mr. Krinkleton stood on its other side with a sword in each hand. He slashed at the beast then retreated as a claw struck the place he had been standing.

“Take a blade!” He tossed a sword at my feet. I didn’t hesitate. The blade felt foreign in my hand, so I settled for wielding it like an axe. I swung hard at one of its legs, and though it did little except make a small notch in the rubbery skin, it was more than my gun had been able to accomplish. The beast whirled and faced me, brandishing knife-like claws. Panic called for me to run, but I fought hard to stay focused.

I jumped back, barely avoiding the beast’s swipe as Mr. Krinkleton scored a hit on the same leg. Back and forth we went, trying desperately to draw blood but only succeeding at pushing it slowly back toward the cave entrance.

I looked up when we reached the fork in the path. If we could get the beast into the other tunnel, perhaps we could make a run for it. Mr. Krinkleton seemed to reach the same conclusion. We struck until the beast stumbled into the right tunnel. I joined Mr. Krinkleton.

The beast bared its teeth as it crouched low, muscles tense and eyes expectant. I held up my sword, readying for the attack. Mr. Krinkleton reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch.

“Shoot this!” He launched the pouch into the air.

I shot as the pouch flew over the beast, but only succeeded in shattering a section of the rock wall. I aimed again as the pouch fell behind the beast’s back legs. I fired, and the cave exploded.

The impact of the blast hurled us through the tunnel, and we fell hard just inside the entrance. The cavernous roof creaked and groaned, sending rocks thundering down around us. As we ran outside, the walls shuddered, then collapsed in a spray of dust and rubble. We sprinted away, barely avoiding the avalanche of rocks that followed.

At last, we reached the top, and I dropped to my knees.

“Good thinking,” I said. “Somehow you’re always there with just what I need.”

Mr. Krinkleton shrugged. “I’m a librarian. That’s our job.”

Then I remembered my gems. I patted my pocket, relieved to find it full. Grinning, I pulled out a handful to show Mr. Krinkleton, but I held only plain rocks. I had been baited.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

David Lapp is a young writer with a passion for crafting tales of wonder and adventure, especially those set in imaginary worlds. He enjoys experimenting with words and ideas to delight, inspire, and bless others. If he’s not writing, you’ll probably find him reading, daydreaming, working in a bakery, designing graphics, or jamming on his guitar.