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[Galaxy Of Fear] - 12(15)

By:John Whitman


here. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

Hoole looked at Tash. “What do you feel?”

“I’m the one with the bad feeling!” Zak protested.

Hoole put a hand on Zak’s shoulder. “We have all come to rely on Tash’s instincts, Zak. You know that.”

Tash cast a sympathetic glance Zak’s way. “Sorry, Zak, I just don’t feel the same way. I mean, there’s definitely something dangerous here … but I think that’s just the swamp, and the animals. They’re all … well, I get this feeling that everything around us is hungry. It’s like the whole place wants to swallow us whole. But I don’t feel as though something is wrong.”

“This place reminds me of D’vouran,” Zak grunted. Tash shuddered, and even Hoole gave a slight twitch at the unpleasant memory. Over a year ago-it seemed like a lifetime now-Zak, Tash, and Hoole had been trapped on a living planet that fed itself by absorbing the creatures that lived on its surface. They had barely escaped with their lives.

“The feeling of danger is only a small part of it,” Tash went on. “There’s something good here, too. Uncle Hoole, I’m sure we’re safe here. I don’t know why. But I know we are.

Platt sighed. “And that’s good enough for you, Hoole?” Hoole nodded. “Yes, it is.”

Zak bit his lip and thought, Tash is wrong. And we’re all going to pay for it.

Frustrated, Zak turned away. He saw Galt walking toward one of the huts on the edge of the village and ran after him. He wanted to ask the skeletal man more about the imp.

As he reached Galt, he stepped over a small clump of grass sprouting from the mud. Out of the center of the grass stretched a single thick, yellow flower about the size of his fist. Zak barely noticed the flower until, to his surprise, it bit him on the ankle!





CHAPTER 9


Zak screamed. He shook his leg, but the yellow flower held firm. He felt small razor-sharp teeth digging into his flesh. “Help!”

Galt rushed over and snatched at the flower, ripping it off. Zak felt a few bits of his skin pull off with it. Galt tossed the strange plant away.

“What was that?” Zak asked, checking the wound on his leg. There was a row of small punctures on his shin. “Is it poisonous?”

“Meat flower,” Galt said. “It’s not poison, but the bite hurts. Big ones can swallow a person whole.”

Zak winced as he dabbed at the blood on his leg.

“The juice from the meat flower’s leaves makes it feel better,” Galt said. “It stops the bleeding.” He plucked a few leaves and started to rub them against the wound.

Almost immediately, the pain started to recede. Zak let out a huge sigh of relief.

Then he blinked.

He had been staring out into the swamp, focusing on nothing, when a movement caught his eye.

Was something out there?

He looked again. For just an instant, he thought he saw someone beckoning to him. “Hey, there’s someone there!”

Galt jumped to his feet and looked around. “But everyone’s in the village.”

“Well, someone’s there,” Zak insisted. “I saw them.”

Galt looked genuinely frightened. “It is the imp.”

“Really?” Zak said.

A rush of excitement filled him. If there really was an imp, this would be his chance to do something important. He’d been letting Tash and Uncle Hoole take control for too long. Now it was his turn to be a hero.

“Come on,” Zak said, starting forward.

“No, no!” Galt said, holding him back. “It’s not safe.”

Zak snorted, thinking of the smuggler’s head. “It’s not very safe here either, is it?”

“But it’s a waste of-“

Zak didn’t hear the end of Galt’s statement. He was splashing through puddles and jumping over fallen logs. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that what he was doing was dangerous. The next puddle could swallow him whole, or his next step could land him in the mouth of some swamp beast. But none of that mattered. He felt an irresistible urge to move forward.

Zak didn’t think he had run very far, maybe a hundred meters. His legs weren’t tired. But suddenly, the urge to run left him. The moment it did, he felt drained, like a power cell with all the energy sucked out. And into the space left behind poured all the fear he had ignored for the past few minutes.

He was alone in a clearing in the swamp where one person had already been killed. He couldn’t see the Children’s village. He wasn’t even sure in which direction it was.

“What am I doing?” he asked aloud.

“Stepping on me, you are,” said a throaty voice at his feet.