There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Xiao Shu and I were locked in a stalemate by the edge of the thicket, one facing the bonfire, the other staring out at the plain, watching the movements of the spiders before us.

On my side, the vast, shadowy army had halted its advance about three or four meters away, forming a semi-circle around Xiao Shu and me, their legs bent, hind-tails twitching.

“Did any come from your side?” I nudged Xiao Shu with my elbow. He replied with a tone carrying four or five parts tension, “They’re about three or four meters away from us too.”

“Same here. Now what?”

I felt him turn his head left and right, seemingly scanning for any gap in the encirclement, before saying, “We’re surrounded. If this were a battlefield, this would be the time to crouch down and write our last wills. Keep a grenade or something close to your chest, and when they get near, just pull the pin.”

That would be a rather heroic way to go. I had to admit, Xiao Shu was an excellent person; even at this critical juncture, he could muster a trace of humor. But whether on a battlefield or a spider field, I had no desire to die here. Just now, I’d dreamt of my mother, and I had a deep premonition that she was waiting for me and my older sister somewhere. Bearing the heavy responsibility of finding her, there was no way I could let my life end here.

With this thought, I reached into the thicket and pulled out a long branch, brandishing it toward the sky, and asked Xiao Shu, “Do you know how I defeated that spider last time?”

Xiao Shu maintained his rare streak of humor. “Looks like the teacher is about to give a live demonstration of spider-slaying techniques.”

I pulled up the hood of my windbreaker, tying the strings firmly beneath my jawbone, and vigorously whipped the long branch back and forth in the air twice. Swish-swish—two short, sharp sounds of wind brushed past my ears—then I said, “As soon as you see an opening, seize the moment and break through.”

With that, I lifted my leg and jumped directly in front of the spider cluster, sweeping the long branch horizontally toward them. Seeing me take the initiative, the spiders all arched their hind-tails and took aim, spraying silk that looked like 905 adhesive. I quickly swept the branch in a circle around me, coating it with the sticky silk, then flung it upward. The spiders that had been sprayed, linked by their own silk, were carried up into the air like wind chimes, flinging about wildly. Before they could recover, I slammed the branch down hard onto the ground. Dozens of spiders crashed heavily to the earth, many bursting open with green ichor. The group behind them, witnessing the failure of the vanguard, retreated ten meters with a rustling sound, but they didn't flee. After about ten seconds, the spiders began to mass together, stacking one atop the other until they reached a height of fifty centimeters, resembling a wriggling little mountain that was profoundly sickening to behold.

I prepared to repeat my trick, intending to whip the little mountain again, but Xiao Shu grabbed my arm, saying, “Don’t whip it. They’ve reached the high ground. If you whip them now, they’ll jump onto us. The Dead Sea side hasn't made a move yet. We’ll use the branches to clear a path and fight our way towards the sea.”

“Alright, I’ll whip out a path, you look for a chance to grab the backpack,” I shouted, wielding my branch high above my head, adopting a defensive stance to keep the spiders at bay, the sound of wind whistling past my ears from the branch’s movement.

Xiao Shu also pulled a long branch from the brush, shaking it a few times high in the air with one hand, then suddenly whipped it down onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. That force was clearly much greater than mine. With a single strike, any spider grazed by the branch was split in half, its green fluid spraying onto the branch, the ground, and the thicket. The remaining spiders seemed stunned; they first recoiled backward, then they began to crawl together with a faint rustling sound, preparing to build their high ground just like before. Before I could react, just as a dense black pile was beginning to form, Xiao Shu suddenly sprang out from the edge of the thicket and began wildly whipping the spider pile with his branch. Spiders flew everywhere; those on top were beaten ragged, while those underneath were heavily buried by the scattered corpses of their companions.

We moved one after the other, back to back, slashing and sweeping horizontally and vertically at the spiders with our branches. Before long, the ground was littered haphazardly with spider corpses. Xiao Shu and I were both panting, drenched in sweat from the effort.

Treading over the sticky, dead spiders underfoot, we slowly moved toward the bonfire. This first wave of attack had yielded some results; a rough estimate suggested two to three hundred spiders had met their end by the whip. Just as I was feeling smug and about to celebrate with Xiao Shu, he, still back-to-back with me, nudged me with his elbow and said, “Bad news, the spiders are multiplying.”