Fear that man

Entirely too much blood. Nothing there to stop it with, either. I turned to the grub, looked for a vulnerable spot. Most of its belly was calloused, but the first two segments always seemed to be aloft in the manner of a “running” snake. I aimed my vibra-pistol at these first two soft segments, pulled the trigger and held it down. The worm went kicking into the air, turning over and over, tossing off spines that shot over our heads. It crashed back to the ground when I stopped firing, was very still.
        But the spider…
        It was at the opposite end of the valley now, having used the grub’s diversions as a chance to make an easy entry. Behind it, anchored to the rubble, was a thin web structure. It was getting ready to snare us.
        Crazy moaned, kicked a foot, lapsed into unconsciousness again, blood all over him, face twisted strangely.
        The spider leaped.
        All those legs just tensed, and it was moving through the air, hitting the ground, running. Silent.
        I fired.
        The shot caught it in the legs, folded the spindly members up under it, and sent it tumbling backward like a greasy dust ball caught in a strong draft. After it came to rest, it lay still so long that I thought it was dead. But finally it stirred, stood, and clung to the rubble wall, watching me. I was mentally charting all possible pathways of advancement for it, trying to anticipate its next move. But I didn’t expect the silk to come spitting out like liquid smoke from so great a distance. Lazily, it twirled toward us, undulating like a snake formed of mist. The spider could, it seemed, direct two of these lines at the same time, for two of them approached. One struck the wall to the left, curling over a rocky projection halfway up; the second hit an equal height on the opposite wall, lacing through loosely stacked rubble and welding its hold into a solid position. Then the Beast began swinging the lines, wrapping them back and forth from wall to wall, closing us in.
        I sat on the ground, braced my back against Crazy, thumbed the controls of the pistol to full power. The web dropped over us, fouled my hand. I had to spend several valuable seconds untangling the sticky mess from the gun and my fingers. When I raised the weapon again, the spider had advanced fifty feet. I fired. But the web was so dense now that it absorbed the blast, diffused it, dissolved it. Still, I could not dissolve it as fast as the spider could make it.
        Another filament dropped across my back. Another curled over my right ear, dropped across my shoulder and down to wind at my waist. Crazy was almost covered. I shot it again. The web absorbed it. The web dissolved. The web was replaced. The spider was keening more frantically than ever, no longer quiet in its advance, now assured of victory, now jubilant. Several sticky strands lashed around me, pinning my arms to my chest. More. Still more. I was being cocooned. The gun dropped out of my hands as circulation was cut down in my arms, my hands made numb and useless.
        A strand crossed my face, fouled an eye. It was amazingly cool against my skin.
        Another strand curled over my lips, drifted upward into my nostrils and stuck there, tickling.
        Crazy was invisible beneath a white drift of the snowy thread.
        The spider tensed to leap…

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    III
        
        Lotus when there is danger? A helpless, frightened rabbit of a girl? No. That’s not Lotus at all. Lotus is a girl who comes fluttering over the treetops when a spider is about to devour her friends and leaps onto the spider because she has no gun.
        Why no gun? A knife, that’s why. She keeps it in her waistband. Only the red gem handle shows-until she has to use it. Then, lightning isn’t any faster.
        I was pinned by the web, watching the hairy black mutant dance across the foggy highway it had built when she came into view in the morning sky and spotted the action. She dipped, swayed with half a second’s hesitation, then landed on the twisted semi-shoulders behind the Beast’s head. She tossed her legs around that neck, riding it like it was a wild bronc and seeming to enjoy the ride as much as the cowboys on real horses back at Horner’s ranch. It swiveled its eyes, trying to catch sight of her, but the eyes didn’t revolve far enough. Just when they were at the apex of their revolution, she drove the silver blade into the left orb, up to the crimson gem