The air grew noticeably warmer as he pulled Gail deeper into the nest.
The legworms were not packed as tightly at the bottom. Valentine felt air move. He followed it, and the glow.
"Don't like this," Gail whispered.
"Don't blame you."
And came upon the eggs. The legworm bodies arched above and around, making a warm arena for their deposits.
About the size of a basketball, the eggs had translucent skin. The glow came from the growing legworm's underside; the soft "membrane" had blue filament-like etchings of light, transformed into aqua by the greenish liquid within the eggs.
"Smells like old laundry in here," Gail said.
"Shhh."
Valentine saw deep pock marks in the skins of the larger legworms at the center. The eggs must have dropped off. Black lumps, like unprocessed coal, lay scattered between the living eggs. Evidently only a few eggs made it to whatever stage of the metamorphosis they now enjoyed.
Stepping carefully, Valentine crossed the egg repository, hoping the baby legworms were giving off enough lifesign to confuse the Reapers' senses.
He heard-felt-sensed motion behind.
A string of Reapers entered the egg chamber, clad in their dark, almost bulletproof robes, the first staring about as if to make sense of the small glows and vast shadows.
Valentine shoved Gail toward an A-shaped arch in a legworm's midsection. She turned around to protest, and her big eyes grew even wider, until they seemed to fill her face.
Gail shrieked. She instinctively reached for him, putting his body in between herself and the others.
As one, six Reaper heads turned in their direction. Valentine drew his .22 target pistol.
The lead Reaper dismissed the threat with a wave, a grotesque wigwag of its double-jointed elbow. It had a burn-scarred face, making its visage that of a badly formed wax mask.
Valentine pointed the gun at Gail's head. She squeaked.
The Reapers spread out, but came no closer.
"keep calm, brother," the leader said in the breathy voice that always brought Valentine back to the terrors of the night Gabriella Cho died, "no one need die tonight, be warned: hurt her and we will peel off your skin and leave you raw and screaming."
He switched the sights of the pistol to the Reaper's yellow gimlet eye.
Valentine tried to still his hand.
"You believe you can stop me with that?"
"Not me," Valentine said.
And shot.
He aimed at an egg, shot, switched targets, and shot again, as quickly as he could pull the hair trigger. The gun felt like a cap pistol in his hand.
But the bullets had an effect.
They struck the eggs and tore through them, sending fluid flying, splattering the Reapers. The egg chamber suddenly smelled like old milk. He stifled a gag.
Evidently Reapers didn't get nauseated, or had poor noses- they just wiped at the fluid in disgust.
All around, legworm digits twitched like fluttering eyelashes.
Valentine dropped the empty gun as he ran, pulling Gail along behind. Tons of legworm righted itself and he threw her under it, dove, rolled, felt its legs on his back as he made it to the other side. Snapping noises like garden shears came from the egg area.