Hobson in the pit

Hobson landed on his backon the floor of the pit. As he caught his breath, he was aware of blurred faces at the edge of the circle of glaring sunlight.

“Too bad you couldn’t be more co-operative Ernest, you could have been very useful.”

Gingerly rising to an awkward sitting position, Hobson answered, “Well, you could always come down here and negotiate.”

The blurred face above laughed, “Oh Ernest, I admire your humour in the face of certain death. But it’s goodbye, enjoy the company down there.” The bright circle of sunlight began to shrink as LeCamp’s henchmen above pushed the heavy stone across the opening.

Commanding himself not to panic, Hobson looked around the pit. The walls were smooth enough to make climbing out impossible.  A skeleton laid a few feet away, clad in a rotting leather jacket, a sagging fedora perched on the grinning skull. A whip was wound around a valise hanging by a decayed strap over one shoulder.

In the opposite wall, Hobson could make out a hole. It was lined with rough bricks, so it was obviously there for a reason. Probably not a good one.

As the crescent of sunlight receded across the opening to be replaced by murky shadow, Hobson turned to his bony companion. “Well old boy, I hope you’re in the mood for company.” He grabbed the satchel and tore it from the rat gnawed strap. He peered inside as the last sliver of light gave way to darkness.

A ratty looking notebook and broken miners lamp filled most of the bag. He shook the bag a little, and in the final ray of sunlight, a glint caught his eye. He reached in as the pit became completely dark. Flat and smooth, smaller than palm sized. A lighter. He flicked it once, and a small yellow flame lit the dusty chamber. “Lovely, “he whispered to himself. He closed the lighter and turned to his skeletal neighbour.

“Mind lending a hand?” He wrenched the arm from the skeleton, wrapping the sleeve around the knobby shoulder joint.

He lit the rough torch, and slipped the lighter into his jacket pocket. The chamber looked much smaller in the dusty yellow light. Hobson stood, wincing softly as his bruised body straightened up. He gingerly fingered the bump on his scalp, and quietly promised to change profession as soon as he found a way out of this little cave.

Small creatures, scorpions and lizards, scattered across the dusty floor as Hobson moved the torch in a slow arc, before stopping before the hole in the opposite wall.  It reached from the floor to about hip height, large enough to crawl along perhaps. He thought about it for a moment. If that tunnel led anywhere, his bony companion would surely have escaped rather than winding up dead. He took a couple of stiff legged steps toward it and leaned down.

A deep guttural growl came from deep within the hole. Hobson took an involuntary step backward. He held the torch out again. Two angry red pinpricks of light shone back at him.

“Aw hell, what now?”

The growl sounded again, closer to the mouth of the chamber. Hobson backed away further, his back coming into contact with the cave wall.

A huge paw emerged from the opening, black claws digging into the dusty floor. Another hairy paw appeared, followed by an enormous shaggy head, bigger than Hobson’s own skull.  It studied him with red rimmed eyes as it pulled its hunch-backed body from the gap, thick pelt scraping against the brick lining. The creature dragged its hairless hindquarters clear of the cavity.

Man and beast regarded each other for a long second. “Good doggy... thing,” Hobson cooed, “Sit.”

They locked eyes for a moment, as it crouched low to the chamber floor. He was half-ready when it leapt at him, hitting him in the chest with its massive paws, knocking him hard back against the cave wall, which cracked slightly.

The creature forced its jaws at his face, using its weight to push him down to the floor. With thick saliva dribbling into his face, Hobson used his free hand hold the gnashing fangs away. The dog-thing was much stronger though, and he was soon looking directly into its cavernous maw.

As the dog-creature thrust its jaws one last time, Hobson hit it in the face with the torch on his right hand. Sparks flew as the flaming bone thumped into the thing’s cheek. It gave a yelp of frustrated pain and the stinking weight disappeared.

He braced himself against the wall and staggered to his feet. The creature was hunched opposite him, glaring at him with one hate-filled eye.

It leapt again, filling the rancid air with the sound of pure rage. Hobson was prepared this time, and dodged the dog-thing easily. It hit the already cracked wall with enough momentum to dislodge several bricks before collapsing to the floor.

Hobson clambered over the shaggy lump and peered through the new gap. Fresh air, and a pinprick of light at the end of a short passageway. “Lovely. Good freak.” He patted the unconscious monster, then butted hard against the weakened wall. More bricks gave way, enough to crawl through.

He clambered to his feet and scrambled toward the light. Behind him, in the dark, he could hear the dog-thing stirring into wakefulness.

He had to hurry.