The Host (The Host #1)(53)
“I won’t let anybody hurt you,” Jeb mumbled as he reached the archway. “Anyway, might as well get used to this.”
I wanted to ask what that meant, but he stepped through into the next room. I crept in after him, half a step behind, keeping myself hidden by his body as much as possible. The only thing harder than moving myself forward into that room was the thought of falling behind Jeb and being caught alone here.
Sudden silence greeted our entrance.
We were in the gigantic, bright cavern again, the one they’d first brought me to. How long ago was that? I had no idea. The ceiling was still too bright for me to make out exactly how it was lit. I hadn’t noticed before, but the walls were not unbroken—dozens of irregular gaps opened to adjoining tunnels. Some of the openings were huge, others barely large enough for a man to fit through stooped over; some were natural crevices, others were, if not man-made, at least enhanced by someone’s hands.
Several people stared at us from the recesses of those crevices, frozen in the act of coming or going. More people were out in the open, their bodies caught in the middle of whatever movement our entrance had interrupted. One woman was bent in half, reaching for her shoelaces. A man’s motionless arms hung in the air, raised to illustrate some point he’d been making to his companions. Another man wobbled, caught off balance in a sudden stop. His foot came down hard as he struggled to keep steady; the thud of its fall was the only sound in the vast space. It echoed through the room.
It was fundamentally wrong for me to feel grateful to that hideous weapon in Jeb’s hands… but I did. I knew that without it we would probably have been attacked. These humans would not stop themselves from hurting Jeb if it meant they could get to me. Though we might be attacked despite the gun. Jeb could only shoot one of them at a time.
The picture in my head had turned so grisly that I couldn’t bear it. I tried to focus on my immediate surroundings, which were bad enough.
Jeb paused for a moment, the gun held at his waist, pointing outward. He stared all around the room, seeming to lock his gaze one by one with each person in it. There were fewer than twenty here; it did not take long. When he was satisfied with his study, he headed for the left wall of the cavern. Blood thudding in my ears, I followed in his shadow.
He did not walk directly across the cavern, instead keeping close to the curve of the wall. I wondered at his path until I noticed a large square of darker ground that took up the center of the floor—a very large space. No one stood on this darker ground. I was too frightened to do more than notice the anomaly; I didn’t even guess at a reason.
There were small movements as we circled the silent room. The bending woman straightened, twisting at the waist to watch us go. The gesturing man folded his arms across his chest. All eyes narrowed, and all faces tightened into expressions of rage. However, no one moved toward us, and no one spoke. Whatever Kyle and the others had told these people about their confrontation with Jeb, it seemed to have had the effect Jeb was hoping for.
As we passed through the grove of human statues, I recognized Sharon and Maggie eyeing us from the wide mouth of one opening. Their expressions were blank, their eyes cold. They did not look at me, only Jeb. He ignored them.
It felt like years later when we finally reached the far side of the cavern. Jeb headed for a medium-sized exit, black against the brightness of this room. The eyes on my back made my scalp tingle, but I didn’t dare to look behind me. The humans were still silent, but I worried that they might follow. It was a relief to slip into the darkness of the new passageway. Jeb’s hand touched my elbow to guide me, and I did not shrink away from it. The babble of voices didn’t pick up again behind us.
“That went better than I expected,” Jeb muttered as he steered me through the cave. His words surprised me, and I was glad I didn’t know what he’d thought would happen.
The ground sloped downward under my feet. Ahead, a dim light kept me from total blindness.
“Bet you’ve never seen anything like my place here.” Jeb’s voice was louder now, back to the chatty tone he’d used before. “It’s really something, isn’t it?”
He paused briefly in case I might respond, and then went on.
“Found this place back in the seventies. Well, it found me. I fell through the roof of the big room—probably shoulda died from the fall, but I’m too tough for my own good. Took me a while to find a way out. I was hungry enough to eat rock by the time I managed it.
“I was the only one left on the ranch by then, so I didn’t have anyone to show it to. I explored every nook and cranny, and I could see the possibilities. I decided this might be a good card to keep up my sleeve, just in case. That’s how we Stryders are—we like to be prepared.”
We passed the dim light—it came from a fist-sized hole in the ceiling, making a small circle of brightness on the floor. When it was behind us, I could see another spot of illumination far ahead.
“You’re probably curious as to how this all got here.” Another pause, shorter than the last. “I know I was. I did a little research. These are lava tubes—can you beat that? This used to be a volcano. Well, still is a volcano, I expect. Not quite dead, as you’ll see in a bit. All these caves and holes are bubbles of air that got caught in the cooling lava. I’ve put quite a bit of work into it over the last few decades. Some of it was easy—connecting the tubes just took a little elbow grease. Other parts took more imagination. Did you see the ceiling in the big room? That took me years to get right.”