Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

at them as he heard a clicking by his ear. Raising the lamp, he saw a large beetle the size of his fist crawling towards him along the wall. The light of the small flame caused the immense bug to back up and flee as if it were poison. Somehow the bug squeezed into an almost indistinguishable slot at the junction of the ceiling and wall.

More scuttling in the dark, directly behind Gus, made him turn with a start.

A small splash of oil fell out of the lamp as he twisted and the wick rocked back and forth, almost being washed out with the oil.

The ground was covered completely with hordes of the large bugs, crawling over each other. Like their brother, they retreated with reckless abandon when exposed to the light. Centering the lamp in the corridor, Gus saw that the ceiling was also covered with the bugs, the scraping and clacking of their carapaces sending a chill down his spine.

They also had a distinctive odor that stood out among the stale peanut smell of the rancid oil. Something definitely unpleasant on a visceral level, at times so pungent that Gus had to cough and fight dry-heaving. The action caused his loose oil to rock the little wick again and Gus forced himself to get it under control.

Blinking away a tear and clearing his throat, Gus’ eyes fell upon one of the frescos. This one depicted two of the typical sideways-posed Egyptian figures. One in the lead held a lamp similar to Gus’, and the same beetles were fleeing the beams of the lamp. In the picture, Gus recognized them as scarabs. A lagging figure had an extinguished lamp and was being beset by the insects. There was a section missing in his arm, and white bone showed through the opening.

Gus swallowed, trying to get some moisture down his raw throat. The message was clear: No light equals bugs eating you alive.

Gus picked up the pace, trying to evaluate how fast the small lamp was using the oil and where the halfway mark was, so he would know when he would need to turn back. A quick glance over his shoulder showed the tiny white opening of the temple, further away than expected. Scarabs had repopulated the walls and ceiling behind him and Gus got back to descending.

The fragile nature of the lamp required him to walk slower than he would have liked, to both avoid spilling oil and also to keep the tiny flame from extinguishing. Gus knew he could light it again, but he was unsure how quick these bugs would be in the time it took to relight the wick, and how he would focus on the wick without being able to see it.

As he descended, the quantity and size of the bugs appeared to increase more and more. He tried to keep looking straight ahead, keeping a steady pace. Shadows in the far periphery of the small sphere of light around the flame hinted at what lurked there. Along with the number of bugs, the crackling, crawling noise they made was unsettling in its own right.

How long is this damn tunnel! Gus thought as he wiped sweat off his hands onto the tunic, taking care not to rock the small lamp. The oil was definitely getting lower now.

Was it past halfway? It definitely looked like it was burning more quickly as the oil got lower in the rounded base of the little gravy-boat lamp. The only consolation was that he could move more quickly as the oil dropped lower into the lamp. Imagining he must look ridiculous, like one of those speed walkers, he pressed on.

Please let there be another vat of oil at the end of this passage! A trickle of sweat fell into his eye and stung, but he blinked it away, not wanting to remove his hands, both of which were stabilizing the little lamp. He wanted to wipe it away with his upper arm but didn’t dare. Shaking his head didn’t do anything to divert any perspiration from falling.

As his heartbeat increased, Gus wondered if he could pull out of the delve if he saw he was getting close to losing his light. He had a fear that if he did so, he would lose his lamp and wick and he would not be able to go back into the tunnel. The large vat would be heavy to carry, and its narrow, rounded top probably would not allow the light to spread out enough to keep the scarabs at bay. He growled at the futility of the situation.

After what seemed like an eternity, the passageway flattened for a small stretch and then opened into a wider chamber.

Finally! The small room was relatively small and, to Gus’ chagrin, there was no other vessel with oil in the room. No sconces or other items along the walls. Gus checked the lamp and saw just a small splash of oil in the bottom of the lamp. His eyes darted around but aside from the carved hieroglyphics on the walls of the circular chamber, there was nothing.

Scarabs began to pile in the doorway in droves, choking the opening so that Gus couldn’t exit even if he wanted to, they were so thick. From there they spread out, crawling along the walls until he was totally encircled. Backing away as much as he could, he ended up in the center of the room, and the bugs kept coming. They were so thick that the space around Gus was actually shrinking with the layers and layers of the gross bugs crawling endlessly in a roiling mass.

Instinctively, Gus began to crouch as the bugs crawled on the ceiling, dropping like rain when they hit the outer edge of the light and getting briefly stunned. He looked into the small lamp and saw the thin film of oil. The wick began to spark and smoke as the flame began to gutter out. Gus tried to exit the delve. Whether