Metal Boxes - Trapped Outside by Alan Black

Author:Alan Black [Black, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction, Military, Space Opera
Amazon: B014FS5G56
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2015-08-24T07:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

The crab on the rock squatted and stretched a few more times. The whole front line began squatting and stretching in sync with the crab on the rock. Then they moved, pivoting in neat precision, splitting into two groups, one swinging to the right and one swinging to the left. The close edge of both lines brushed the escarpment wall forming a perfect ninety-degree angle from the high rocks. It began moving forward again, this time away from their canyon.

Ryte’s miniature explosions, huge chunks of falling rocks, and a rapidly diminishing water supply must have convinced the crab swarm that their original course was too dangerous for such a small return. The stream, blocked by the wall built across the canyon’s opening, stopped all but a trickle of water. The crab leader must have determined it would be best to split into two columns, each looking for a new water supply to follow, a route that wasn’t subject to crushing rocks falling on them.

Stone watched for fifteen minutes before the last few rows appeared. Carried overhead were dead crabs being torn to pieces, their guts stripped away from their shells and fed to rows of smaller and smaller crabs, being herded by larger crabs. Large injured crabs at the rear limped along, apparently still useful to the swarm. Empty shells, spider-like legs, and cleaned bones of all sizes lay scattered behind the retreating crabs.

Just before the swarm split into two, it stopped with a couple of connected lines of junior sized crabs. They began their twitching dance again, copied by the smaller offspring. The column that split to the right reversed its course. The back rows melted together, stretching out. Crabs crawled over each other as the right columns scrabbled to regain their respective rows. Another half hour passed before the whole mass finally moved off to the left.

Stone glanced up at Ryte. She stood with her hands on her hips and a satisfied smile on her face. She wore a skin colored, skin tight outfit, giving her the appearance of standing naked in the sun with the wind blowing through her hair. She looked like an avenging god from Olympus minus sword or lightning bolt. Instead, she held her dataport reader, using it to guide her drone. She stuck up a hand and closed her fingers around the drone just as it popped back into normal visual range.

Stone imagined it looked like she called the small torpedo-like drone into existence with the wave of her hand, by magic. That was, anyone except him and he was having difficulty believing his senses. His sense of smell had gone berserk, overlaying bizarre scents where no odors belonged. He now heard noises from farther away than ever before, or rather, he could identify sounds and amplify or mute them at will. He wondered about his sense of taste. He didn’t know if it’d changed. He hadn’t eaten or tasted anything since he woke up. He was hungry and thirsty enough he would have to find something soon and that would be his taste test.

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