His stories have been listened to by thousands and he has been a guest on such notable podcasts as Podioracket, John Mierau‘s “Podcast Teardown,”Geek Out with Mainframe,Shadowcast Audio, and Vertigo Radio Live. In 2010, his short story Canvas and novella Tattoo were nominated for Parsec Awards. Tattoo became a Parsec Award finalist. He has collaborated with New York Times Bestselling author Scott Sigler on the series “The Crypt” and co-wrote the novel The Rider (projected to release in Winter 2014). In addition to his writing, Paul has contributed his voice talents to a number of podiofiction productions.
He is also a co-host on the renown Dead Robots’ Society writing podcast.
To contact Paul:
Twitter: paul_e_cooley
Facebook: paul.e.cooley
Email: [email protected]
Dedication:
To Justin Macumber and Terry Mixon:
For bringing me into the fold. For beta-reading. For brain-storming. For friendship.
Acknowledgements:
A story is not created in a vacuum. We writers absorb what we see, what we read, and what we hear. The Black was born from a love of monster films like Carpenter's The Thing, The Blob, and a ton of books I read as a child. But its true genesis was the result of brain-storming with my fellow Dead Robots, Terry Mixon and Justin Macumber. When writers start throwing out ideas, the brain sizzles and words flow. Without them and the following people, The Black wouldn't have been possible.
Thomas E Cooley
My father, and a chemical engineer, helped make this book possible. His enthusiasm for the project and scientific advice was invaluable. Thank you, Dad. Any scientific oversights or oil industry inaccuracies are mine and mine alone.
Jake Bible
Jake is my nemesis. He and I kick each other on social media, make threatening overtures, and we smile with every foul word we throw at one another. A great friend, a great writer, and a hell of a cheerleader, Mr. Bible was instrumental in finding my work a new home. I hate to owe him, but I do. Guess I'll have to pay him back with torturous slurs.
As always, I have to thank The Fiendlings. They have supported my work since 2009 and continue their incessant clamor for more.
Paul E Cooley
September 2014
Also by Paul E Cooley
Fiends Collection
Closet Treats
Tattoo
Fiends: Volume 1
Fiendlettes—4 Stories from the Fiends Collection
Tony Downs Collection
The Hunt
After Image
Garaaga's Children
Legends of Garaaga (Winter 2014)
Contains the stories:
Hunters
Keepers
Interlopers
Scrolls
Daemons of Ur (Winter 2014)
Contains the stories:
Hela
Ama
Drimesh
When deep level oil fracking uncovers a vast subterranean sea, a crack team of cavers and scientists are sent down to investigate.
Upon their arrival, they disappear without a trace.
A second team, including sedimentologist Dr Megan Stoker, are ordered to seek out Alpha Team and report back their findings. But Alpha team are nowhere to be found – instead, they are faced with something unexpected in the depths.
Something ancient.
Something huge.
Something dangerous.
Predator X
Chapter One
They say there are no true wildernesses left to explore. You talk to those extreme survival types and they even mock places like Antarctica as for mere novices. Maybe they’re right about that. I mean, you can take a five star cruise to see the penguins nowadays. But they’re wrong about the wilderness thing. They are there; they’re just a bastard to get to. We know less about our oceans than we do about the moon, but that’s a wealth of knowledge compared to what we know about the deep places of the Earth. That’s where the cool kids hang out. In caves.
I’m not a cool kid. I’m a sedimentologist, and that’s about as glamorous as it sounds. But I do like caves. So when we were fracking for shale gas on the Tuvan border and we broke through to a vast subterranean network of caves, I was amongst the first to volunteer to go down and have a look.
Training was pretty brutal. The guys who run it don’t piss about, and they can’t. One false move and you’re dead. It really is as simple as that. I thought about dropping out lots of times, but curiosity is a strange beast. It’s more powerful than terror, for one thing. Let’s just say a thousand bad decisions in various horror movies all of a sudden make a great deal of sense to me.
I wanted to be in the Alpha team, to be one of the first to experience things, but I’m a scientist, not a survivalist. They picked the team best suited to sort out the route, and at first, things seemed to be going pretty well. They sent us back information via a set of radio relays and basic video feed: some tight spots, but nothing insurmountable. Then we got a tantalising hint of something new, something we totally didn’t expect – a huge inland sea, cut off from the surface for millennia. That did it. I knew I had to get down there.
But after that – nothing.
We still don’t know what happened to the Alpha team, but we’re going to find out.
* * * * *
Caves are sacred places. They’re a bit like churches, or libraries. You don’t shout. Part of that is for safety reasons - loud sounds have a nasty habit of dislodging rocks, which in turn bang into other rocks, and before you know it you’re crushed by a hundred tons of the stuff – but a bigger reason is to do with the atmosphere. It’s heavy. Not like hippy-heavy-maaan, but like actually, physically heavy. It can be hard to breathe down here. Thank the Lord (or at least those lovely technicians at the Fujiyama Corporation, anyway) for inventing a decent kinetic two-for-one air filtration and light system. Because that’s the other thing about caves. They’re dark. Like pitch black, can’t see your hand in front of your face dark. There’s no light down here. Light has never been down here. But that doesn’t mean life isn’t.
That came as quite a surprise. We were expecting to find some traces of life, you know, algae and the like, but the sheer number of species – all of them new to science, or so we expect – is staggering. It’s a shame they’re all of the fucking terrifying kind – spiders, centipedes, weird worms with mouths full of hooks and other such nasties – but it really does go to show you that life will indeed find a way.
“For Chrissakes, Meg!” A voice hisses out of the darkness. I look up, pen in hand. It's Marcus, hassling me again. Now there’s a surprise. “You’re always fucking writing. We have cameras to record this shit. You don’t need to scribble.”
He grins. He might sound like a total arsehole, but Marcus is okay once you get used to him. He’s part of the survival team. He was supposed to join the Alpha team, but injury kept him out of that gig, and as much as he protests, I think he’s pretty glad it kept him off that team, considering everything.
We’ve been here for a couple of hours now. There’s a bastard chimney to traverse, and Nik and Janos wanted to go first. Of course, Alpha team have already rigged it, but they’re both aware we’re not all experts at this, so they’re going first, just in case.
I’m beginning to feel a bit concerned. We’ve had to wait about before, but never for this long. I find myself peering into the never-ending darkness of the pit ahead, trying to figure out if that’s the dim-light of their kinetic torches, or just my eyes giving up and my brain filling in the gaps.
Even Marcus is quiet now. Fi has her eyes closed – how can she sleep like that? It took me ages to acclimate. I suppose she’s had more experience. Brendan, on the other hand, is like me, scribbling away, noting everything down. If anything, he’s even worse. It’s a cave ecologist’s wet dream down here. I think if we discover one more new species, he might explode.
Small echoes filter up from below. Even though I kn
ow it’s only Nick and Janos returning, my heart jitters. No one talks about it, but it's obvious the disappearance of Alpha Team is on everyone’s mind. No one knows what happened to them. We’re hoping someone just dropped the equipment... but why then have they not returned? No. Not going to think about that. Not yet. Not until –
I screw my eyes up and swallow hard. Why am I even thinking about this? Just concentrate on what you’re doing. There’s enough to worry about without all of… that.
A figure pops its head over the edge of the ridge: Janos. He looks pretty grim, but that doesn’t worry me. He always looks pretty grim in a Hollywood hard-man kind of way. When I first met him, I half expected him to speak in tired clichés and demand people make his day, but in reality, he's a serious man who only really speaks when necessary.
“Nikolai has stayed below to steady the rope,” he says. It sounds like a funeral announcement. “The going isn’t easy, but it is still better than we expected.” He turns to Marcus. “You should go first, then one of the scientists, then Fiona, and then the other scientist. I shall go last.” With that, he nods and settles himself on the edge of the chimney. He knows no one will argue with him, not about this. Janos might be a miserable son of a bitch sometimes, but he has an instinct about caves we’ve all learned to trust.
Marcus agrees to go first, and then volunteers me. “I ain’t gonna stare at Brendan’s arse all the way down,” he grins. I used to be bothered by his banter, but not now. He’s harmless.
My stomach swoops as Janos helps me manoeuvre myself over the edge. Apart from Marcus’s headlamp ten feet below me, there is no light - I might as well be stepping off into the infinite. Janos shows me my hand holds, and I’m off, using the carefully placed guide ropes to help me down.
Janos wasn’t kidding. This is, without a doubt, a bitch of a climb. Below me, I can hear Marcus muttering under his breath. I rarely see his headlamp head-on when I glance down – I guess his joke about preferring my arse over Brendan’s has long been forgotten now he’s worrying about where to put his feet.
My legs are screaming at me. I’m fitter than I’ve ever been, but it doesn’t matter, every climb is a punishment. You’d also think going down would be easier, but it isn’t. Going up means, you know where you’re going. Down? That’s largely guesswork, or so it feels.
I take in a deep breath and pause for a moment before I unclip my safety harness to transfer it to the next series of ropes. This is the bit I always hate, the bit I never think I’ll ever get used to. Even though it takes but a second, I can’t help but shake the feeling that it would only take a second to slip. I only let my breath go when I snap the D-ring closed and give it a tug. Safe again. Well, safer.
I glance up. Three little lights dance above me as the others join in the descent. The air tastes strange down here, cold and metallic. The walls are dry. We’re too deep for ground water, and so the prelim reports of an inland sea came as a huge surprise – I mean, how the hell did it form if it hadn’t percolated through the rock? But that’s the exciting thing. It didn’t percolate.
It’s always been here.
I continue to edge my way down, my belly now fizzing. I can’t help but wonder if we’re close. We’re mostly using guesswork – we have the Alpha team’s marks to follow and that is basically that. GPS doesn’t work down here – the rock is too thick and there’s a background level of radiation that, whilst harmless to us (pretty much; I wouldn’t want to spend months down here if I wanted to have kids at some point), it messes with most of our electrical equipment, which kind of unnerves me.
“Okay, we’re nearing the bottom now,” Marcus calls up. Good. My arms have joined my legs in a rendition of The Screaming Chorus, and I’m just about ready to let go.
“Hit bottom!” Another call, followed by a furious whisper that travels far easier in the dead air. “Where the fuck is Nik?”
My stomach sinks. We’re nearing our goal – and to where Alpha team vanished. The last thing our collective nerves need is to lose a team member of our own.
I scramble down the last 10 feet, trying to concentrate on what I am doing but failing miserably. My fingers slip and I slide down the last 5 feet, scraping my hands. Only the thick material of my survival suit protects my knees. I hit the bottom far faster than intended, and my legs crumple under me.
Marcus is nowhere to be seen.
A black dread seizes me. First Nik, then Marcus – what next?
Fi lands next to me as I find my feet. She doesn’t seem all that concerned that Nik and Marcus have all but disappeared. Instead, she stalks off into the gloom and ducks her head down.
“Nik?” she says.
“Yep!” comes the answer.
“Tight?”
“Yep.”
Fi grins. “Good.”
Rather than cheer me, this exchange makes my stomach sink even further. The guys haven’t disappeared, they’ve just gone to investigate the route, which seems to end in a blank cliff face.
Until you notice the crack at the bottom, that is.
Cavers call them ‘flatteners’. I call them nightmares, and I don’t mean that as in ‘difficult’. I mean 'nightmares' as in ‘tit-shrivelling terrifying’. They are the one aspect of caves I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully cope with, and if it wasn’t for the potential of something truly awe-inspiring on the other side, I don’t think I could do it.
Brendan and Janos have now joined us. Fi strips off her pack and pushes it into the crack. She then lies flat and wriggles underneath. That’s why they’re called ‘flatteners’, by the way, because that’s the only way you can get through them – flat on your stomach.
Brendan goes next. He might not have the survival credentials the others do, but he has far more experience dealing with flatteners, and caves in general, than I do. He strips his pack and off he wriggles. I feel my heart clamber up into my throat and I swallow convulsively. I am not going to panic. It’s safe. Four other people have gone before me, and they’re okay. So no panicking.
I slowly pull off my backpack and sink to the floor. I’m feeling light headed now, like I’ve had one bevvy too many. I push my pack forward and fight down the urge to grab the top of my head to stop it from floating off.
“Are you all right?”
Janos is kneeling beside me, looking concerned. He places a steady hand on my back. “I shall be there with you. Do not worry. I shall not let you get stuck.”
His sincerity helps. I’m still on the verge of hyperventilating when I lie down and peer into the pitch-black of the crack, but Janos’ presence keeps me from losing it completely. He might be a bit of a killjoy most of the time, but right now, I am grateful for him, for his steadiness, for his seriousness. Marcus would joke; Fi would gloat; Nik would shrug, but Janos? Janos will keep me safe. Plus, he’s like twice my size, and if he thinks he can squeeze through this gap, then it should be a cake walk for me.
“Remember,” he says, cutting through my rising panic. “Do not touch anything Nik has sprayed yellow. Keep breathing and keep going forwards. You will be fine.”
I take in a deep breath and stretch out into the flattener, pushing my pack ahead of me. I twist my head so my hard hat doesn’t get wedged, cringing when I hear the scrape of rock against plastic. I inch forwards, focusing on my back. Behind me, a sudden flare of light tells me Janos has joined me. He taps my boot.
“Yellow ahead.”
I drag my pack a little to the right, and sure enough, there’s a splash of fluorescent yellow spray paint on the rock. I shuffle sideways, avoiding it. Nik’s a cautious guy. It could be safe to touch it, but I don’t want to be the one to test his judgement.
Despite the flattener opening out enough for me to raise my head a bit, it feels tighter than ever in here. The floaty feeling comes back. I blink in an attempt at clearing it, but all I can think is how much rock there currently is above my head. They say they’ve suspended all fracking operations until we’ve investigated, but that doesn�
�t mean the damage hasn’t already been done. One false move and I’m a fucking pancake - or worse, trapped, cocooned forever in a tomb of limestone, three miles down, where no one can hear me scream, and even if they could, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
“Keep going,” Janos says.
I dig my toes into the floor and push onwards. He’s right. I have to keep going. But I can’t move. I try again, but I’m stuck. Stuck fast – stuck under the rock, unable to escape. My breathing quickens and I try to raise my head, which smashes into the ceiling above me – a ceiling that is crushing down upon me, trapping me, suffocating me-
“Don’t panic.” Janos says, cutting through my building terror. “Your boot strap is caught on a nodule.”
I feel him fumble at my foot, followed by a sense of pressure released. I try again, and miraculously, I am able to propel myself forward. Light floods the gap and a hand stretches out. It is Marcus, checking our progress.
“You all right, chick?” he asks as he drags me from the flattener. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I try to answer him, but I can’t. I’m shaking too much. Janos scrambles out behind me and shoulders his pack.
“She did well,” he says and stalks past me to take his customary place at the head of our team.
It takes me a little while to shake off the claustrophobia of the flattener. What doesn't help is that I know we have to return this way to get back. It almost makes being stuck down here forever a palatable experience.
The Black Page 27
