SIREN

Chapter Thirteen

The vine led us deeper into the dome. We were escorted over giant tree trunks with branches the size of cars, through hedges with thorns like sharks teeth, and alongside a flowerbed which boasted hundreds of vibrant petals and stalks. My arm was still held hostage by the vine, and although I didn't try to escape, it increased its grip tighter and tighter as the minutes went by.

'You okay there, Teabags?' Sam had kept his distance. He moved from tree to tree, keeping his body in the dark. I could just about see glow of his helmet, illuminating his features in a ghostly light.

'Never better,' I grunted. The pressure around my forearm was now so strong that I felt my bones hurt. The ends of my fingers were now tingling, and I wondered if the device on my wrist would crack.

'You're walking with it, right?' Sam asked as he ducked behind a curtain of leaves.

'No resistance from me at all.'

'Weird...'

'This whole situation is weird, Sam.'

'Yeah, I guess.'

I heard the click of a pistol being reloaded and stopped in my tracks. 'Don't.'

'Don't?'

I nodded. 'Leave it. I got my own, remember.' I lifted my leg slightly and felt my pistol slap against my thigh.

'Yeah, but yours isn't loaded. In the time it takes for you to slot in a round, you might be—'

'You taught me how to do it quick, remember? Have faith, Sam.' Internally, I approximated the time it'd take for me to shoot at something. To unzip my pocket and pull out the gun: two, maybe three, seconds. To find the magazine: two seconds. To slot it in and pull back the top: three seconds. All together, I was looking at eight seconds, give or take. My gloved hands were my biggest obstacles. Without them, I could shave a couple of seconds off, but I knew that was just idealistic thinking. The vine was thick, but I wasn't the best shot in the world. Sam could miss, too. I glanced up at the dome and wondered what'd happen if a wayward bullet smashed the glass.

My thoughts were interrupted by the stress around my arm subsiding. The vine fell and crawled towards an old gnarled tree. The branches curled round into a tunnel shape, forming a dark path.

Sam burst out of a hedge and moved next to me. 'What did you do?'

'Nothing...' I turned my wrist and clenched my fingers. I felt blood rush back to the tips. I peered at my hands and checked my gadgets for damage. Nothing seemed broken. 'I did nothing at all.'

'What do you want to do?'

'Follow it, obviously.'

'Are you sure? After what it just did to you?'

I crouched down and rubbed where the vine had been. A line of tiny shoots responded to my touch and curved their miniscule leaves towards me. 'It sounds crazy, but I think it led us here.'

Sam blinked. 'Why would it do that?'

'I don't know,' I said, standing up straight, 'but maybe we'll find answers if we follow it.'

'Through there?' Sam pointed a thumb at the lumpy trunk and its curved bough.

'Through there.'

'Fine,' Sam said, 'but I'm going live.'

'Do what you have to, but don't shoot unless you think it's necessary.' I poked Sam's torso. 'I mean it.'

He plodded off, grumbling under his breath. He checked his magazine and then dipped into the burrow. I stood by myself for a while, admiring the curvature of the dome. One big question rang over and over in my head: who built this spaceship, and why?