by Greig Beck
“According to our positioning and your maps, we’re nearly there.” Loche half smiled. “We can still do this.” He glanced back at the children. “But they aren’t going to make it any easier.”
Jane nodded. “I know, but we just pulled them from a fate literally worse than death.”
Matt was kneeling before them, practicing his language skills, and a few had begun to respond. A few even smiled.
“I can’t imagine how many generations were brought up to be grown like cattle to then be fed upon as soon as they reached a certain age.” Mike shivered. “They were monsters.”
Matt turned. “No, they just had no humanity.” He stood. “They saw them, and us, as food, nothing more.”
“I’m glad they’re all dead. They were a parasitic race,” Jane growled and looked back out over the red desert that ran to the horizon. “We need to finish our job.”
Loche nodded and hefted his weapon. “You heard the lady—let’s get this done.”
He waved them on and then led them down to the desert floor.
CHAPTER 16
Viktor Zhukov handed Ally his field glasses and she looked out at the shimmering red desert.
“Hot,” he said redundantly.
“And it’s gonna get hotter,” she replied.
Ally scanned the distance. The sky was its usual boiling red, the ground was red, and the very air seemed to shimmer as red waves of dry heat hung like oil in the air. She lowered the glasses and turned to look over her shoulder.
The red landscape was punctured by gnarled trees that looked to have been dead for hundreds of years. And there was something else—cones—that reminded her of clay termite mounds. They’d been avoiding them when they could because she had no idea what sort of creature had made them—a lot of something small in a nest, or something big that used them to whip out and ambush its prey; either one was something they didn’t want to tangle with.
Zhukov turned. “Valentina, you okay?”
The Russian woman’s face was dry, and her eyelids drooped. But she nodded. “Yes, I can do it.”
“Good. Drink a little more water.” Ally reached into her pack and felt several of the fleshy bulb-leaves remaining. She pulled one out, cut the top off, and handed it to the Russian woman.
“I’ve got plenty, so make sure you drink from it. There’s also sugar in there, which you’ll need.” She held it out as the thick liquid welled up.
Valentina took it slowly, her limbs seeming to move in slow motion.
Zhukov smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
One side of Ally’s lips curved up into a smile as well. “No, thank you, both of you. For saving me.” She sighed and turned back to the desert. “We still heading in the right direction?”
Zhukov checked the GPS and then pointed. “That way. Maybe just ten miles.”
“Over the horizon.” She blew air from puffed cheeks and wished there was a better way to cross it. Ten miles over that landscape, on foot, without shade, when they were already fatigued, was an eternity.
Ally sucked in a deep breath that singed her lungs. She’d survived her military training. She’d survived missions in Afghanistan and Syria. And she’d damn well survived being taken alive and kept in a hellish darkness for nearly a year by some sort of troglodyte monsters.
Ally knew she’d walk until she was nothing but leather stretched over bones if need be. She turned and looked at her companions. She thought the captain would make it. But would Valentina? She doubted it.
“We need to travel for a few miles and then rest. And no matter how tired we are, we must never stop being alert. There’ll be things living out there that would love to chow down on us for our fluid alone.”
“Agreed,” Zhukov replied.
“Okay, I’ll lead, Valentina next, and then you, Captain.” Ally looked at Valentina who had her head down. “Valentina… Valentina…”
“Huh?” The woman looked up as though she had been nudged.
“Valentina, if you need to rest, say so. But you must try and stay with us, okay?” Ally tried to look into her face, but the woman’s hair hung forward from under her makeshift head covering and obscured it. She nodded.
“Good. We’ll be there soon. And there’ll be food, water, and shade. You’ll see.” Ally turned away. “Let’s go.”
They headed out over the red desert and the miles of skillet-hot sand began to burn her feet through the soles of her boots. Ally tried to keep her wits about her, but the endless sameness was hypnotizing.
A dry breeze blew little ghosts of dust across their path, and its breath was the only thing breaking up the deathly silence and sterile dryness.
Or almost the only thing.
Ally lifted a hand and tilted her head. She could hear something. She had a rag tied over her mouth and nose to stop inhaling the chalk-dry dust and she tugged it down to sniff, long and slow.
“What is it?” Zhukov asked, tightening his grip on his gun.
“Like I said before, in the caves when without sight your other senses are amplified. One thing I used to be able to detect was fresh water—it has a sweet, subtle smell.” Ally turned slowly. “And it’s somewhere close.”
Zhukov turned slowly. “Please find me an oasis like in the movies—with the palm trees, pool of clear, cool water, and maybe a nice fat bird or two.”
“There’s nothing,” Valentina wearied. “I think the heat is cooking all our brains.”
“Possibly,” Ally said. She sighted on something. Her mind wondered at it. She pulled out her gun. “Time to take a risk.”
She fired a round into one of the four-foot-high, clay-looking cones. The bullet struck it and the top two feet were blasted away.
She held the gun on it, waiting for some swarm to come bursting forth like a torrent of fire ants. Or maybe some long, whipping tongue to slither forth trying to grab anyone nearby.
But after many seconds, there was nothing.
She took a few steps closer. The half cone was now showing a larger hole in the top and darkness below.
“Cover me,” she said over her shoulder as she crept forward.
Zhukov came with her and kept his gun trained on the cone. Valentina stayed back a few steps and kept watch on the surrounding landscape.
The first thing Ally did was pick up a stone the size of her fist and dart forward to drop it in the dark hole at the cone’s top.
Nothing came launching out. But there was a surprising and most welcome noise—a splash.
She turned and grinned. “There’s freaking water down there.” She immediately pulled out her flashlight and shone it into the hole. She stared for a moment, the grin widening on her face. “It’s moving water— – a river.”
“Which direction?” Zhukov asked.
Ally stared for another moment, her eye and the flashlight sharing equal space over the six-inch hole.
She pointed. “That direction… our direction.”
“Do you think…?” Zhukov’s dusty brows were raised.
“It’d be too good to be true,” Ally replied. She drew out her blade, and used the hilt to hack at the cone’s base. Zhukov joined her and together they smashed out a ring at its base, and then the Russian pushed it over where it fell like a hollow tree trunk and broke apart. The trio then stood looking at the two-foot-wide hole in the ground.
Ally jammed her head in with her flashlight. After a moment, she scoffed. “It’s a freaking river down there.” She pulled back and turned with a half-smile. “Don’t suppose either of you have an inflatable raft in those packs of yours?”
Zhukov grinned. “Ms. Ally Bennet, everything we need is right here.” Zhukov grinned and pointed to one of the gnarled trees. “What do they teach you in the American military?”
“How to kill people,” Ally chuckled. “Okay, I get it. We build a raft, of course.”
Zhukov nodded. “We have knives, rope, wood, and much strength left.” He put a hand over his brow and sighted into the distance. “Our on
ly risk is if we are able to exit this underground river when we need to.”
Ally grunted, knowing the Russian captain was right. She got down on her belly and leaned her head and arm with the light deep into the hole. She moved it around, examining what exactly was down there. She inhaled the blessed cool wetness that seemed like nirvana after the deathly dry desert they had been crossing. She pulled back and sat up.
“Fairly large river cave, easily ten feet across. And about the same distance to drop to the water. Can’t tell how deep it is from here. And also, not sure how long it stays like that.”
“You mean, our river might suddenly disappear into a hole below the ground,” Zhukov said.
“Yeah, I do,” she replied and leaned on her elbows. “So, here’s the thing—the river is not moving all that fast. Backtracking is not impossible, but it will be damn hard.”
Zhukov bobbed his head, and then looked at Valentina, who was like a shell of the woman who had started out with them.
“What I think is, if we try and cross much more desert, we will not make it. At least not all of us.” He turned to Ally. “I vote we chance the river. Besides, if its fresh water, and therefore drinkable, it will replenish us.”
“It smells like fresh water.” Ally reached up to touch her dry, cracked lips. “Then there’s one thing left to do…”
“Build a raft,” Zhukov finished. He got to his feet, held out his hand to Ally, and hauled her up. He turned to the Russian doctor. “Valentina, I need you to keep watch for us, okay?” He handed her his near-empty water bottle. “Drink this, rest, and shout if you see or hear anything.”
The woman nodded dreamily.
Ally turned about looking for the most suitable dead trees, and also ones as far away from the sand drifts as possible; she sighted three candidates. “There, there, and there. I’ll take that one. We cut them down and drag them all back here to work on.”
Zhukov grunted. “I think this will work.” He pulled his long blade. “So we begin.”
***
Several hours later, Ally dragged her last logs to the stack near the hole in the ground. She let it drop and staggered a little, almost swooning from exhaustion.
Her throat was parched, and she had stopped perspiring now—a sign that dehydration was setting in. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs, but had to quickly open them as her head began to spin.
She staggered to the side, and Zhukov was there to throw out an arm and grab her.
“Let’s not go lying down now, yes?” He looked into her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said and held a hand to her hot forehead.
“Why? You are the strongest woman I have ever met. Okay now, you sit and finish whatever water you have left. I’ll prepare the raft, and then we can lower it down.”
Ally nodded slowly, being too bombed out to resist. She knew Zhukov’s preparation meant that he would lay out the materials as a physical blueprint because they couldn’t assemble it above ground or it would never fit through the smallish hole. They’d just need to get an idea of how to put it together, lower it down, and then assemble it in the water cave—not ideal, but there was no other option.
It took the Russian only another three-quarters of an hour to have the main raft logs laid out, the cross beams, and also the rope. He stood to survey his work.
“It will do. Keeps us above water, and we have one paddle.” He looked about. “First, we take sounding.”
He grabbed up a stone and took his rope from his pack. He wound it around the rock and went to lay by the hole. He then dropped it down, letting the rope play out. The stone touched the water and sank down, only gently being pulled a little by the current.
In a few seconds, the rope went slack.
“Very good. Best news, only about three feet deep.” He looked up. “We can stand to build our raft.”
“Not a good idea being in the water,” Ally replied.
“I know,” he replied. “But the only other option is to assemble the raft suspended in the air, and that would require a lot more rope, and a lot more strong arms—neither we have right now, Ally Bennet.” He smiled.
“Ally… just call me Ally.” She returned the smile. “No one has called me that in nearly a year.”
He shrugged. “My friends call me Viktor. So not many people call me Viktor.” He laughed for a moment before getting serious. “But you can.”
Ally got to her feet to go and pat his shoulder. “Viktor.” She then walked around the raft framework. “Good work. It will do.”
“It will have to.” He then knelt and set to bundling all the wood into three piles and lashing them together. “This one first. Then this, then lastly this,” he said.
He looked up at her. “And I get to go first.” He got to his feet.
Ally stared into his face. “Do you know, when we first came here, my mission profile was to hunt you Russian guys down and stop you by any and all means?”
He nodded, knowing exactly what that any-and-all-means meant.
“You’re a good person, and I think we are the same.” She gave him a crooked smile.
Zhukov shrugged. “We are sometimes hostage to the politics of war.” He reached up to grasp her hand. “And now, wish me luck.”
She squeezed his hand and released him. The captain dragged the first bundle to the hole’s edge and the rest he laid out, awaiting their turn to be lowered down to him. He then set about tying a loop around his waist and securing it to the closest boulder.
He tested it, went to the hole, took a last look down, and then turned around and began to wriggle backward into the hole. Holding the edge, he paused.
“Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.” Ally got down on her belly and looked into his face. “I’ll cover you.”
He nodded, his face a little pale, and then dropped backward. Ally slid forward and shone her light down, watching him drop the ten feet or so to the water.
Zhukov waited a few seconds, holding the rope and spinning slowly. He held out an arm with his flashlight and panned it around.
“It’s cool in here. Can’t see anything unfriendly above the water.” So, he let himself lower down to the water.
He sunk into his waist. “It’s solid underfoot, rocky.” He took one last look around and then back up. “Lower the first batch of wood.” He went to untie himself.
“No, keep yourself lashed up. We’ve got extra rope, and if you need to get out quickly…”
“Hmm, yes, yes, good idea.” He left the rope at his waist and raised his arms as Ally slid the wood forward and lowered it.
Zhukov untied it and quickly began to lash the base together while doing a great job of stopping any stray bits from floating away.
Ally slid in the next batch, and the Russian captain then anchored the support beams to the structure. The last tranche of wood was a strengthening layer for the top and his large paddling stick. Zhukov tested it and nodded his approval.
“Won’t win any races, but good enough.” He looked up. “Lower the packs and come down. Valentina first.”
Ally tied Valentina to the rope and helped ease her down. Zhukov grabbed her legs and guided her onto the deck of the raft, where she sat cross-legged. He handed her the packs and the paddle.
Up top, Ally untied all the rope, including Zhukov’s tether, took one last look around, and then wriggled backward into the hole. She lowered herself down to her fingertips, hung for a second or two, and then allowed herself to drop.
Zhukov caught her. He held onto her. “You’re a very capable woman.”
She grinned. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She softly punched him in the chest and quickly panned her light around. She looked up into his face. “So, how’s the water?”
“I don’t know.” He cupped some in his hand and lifted it to his lips to sip. He swallowed and then began to slowly nod. “Clean, is okay.”
That was enough for Valentina, who leaned ov
er the side of the raft to gulp down water. Ally brought some to her face to sip first, and then swallow great drafts. Finally, she used more to rub the grime and dust from her face.
“Oh God, that’s good.” She splashed some through her hair.
After a few more minutes, they had their water bottles refilled and already felt better.
“We needed that,” she said.
Zhukov checked his GPS. “Time to leave. All aboard.” He held the raft as Ally clambered on.
He did the same, and the raft sank to the waterline but stayed afloat. There was little room left and only enough for the Russian man to sit with his feet over the edge. The raft was barely above water and Ally knew that if they encountered anything aggressive, they’d be screwed. But she guessed that if they tried to trek one more mile above ground, they would have been doubly screwed.
Zhukov picked up the paddle and used it to keep them facing forward, as the current was already starting to move them along just a little under walking pace.
As they continued, every hundred feet or so, they encountered a shaft of red light that in the darkness was as bright as a laser beam.
“Probably more of those cones,” a much revived Valentina remarked.
“I wonder what made them?” Ally asked.
“Could it be a natural thing?” Zhukov asked. “Maybe this place floods now and then and the water pushed upward.”
“Down here, the rules of biology and geology are different. So that could well be true. Or it might be something else again.” Ally shone her light at the walls and for the first time noticed that there were green mosses covering some areas.
She wasn’t a biologist, but she remembered from her past trip that this simple organism was usually the basis of a food chain. Where there was moss, there were tiny things that fed on it. And where there were tiny things, there were bigger things to feed on them. She just hoped that there wasn’t anything large enough down here to feed on them.
They were all still armed, but down in the dark, she knew that the night-hunters always had the advantage.
***
Two hours in and Zhukov had to do little more than keep them from touching the walls as they drifted in the current. All Ally needed to do was strain her above-average hearing to listen to the sounds of the river cave. But so far, she heard nothing unusual.
