Solomon's Seal

by Skyla Dawn Cameron

  Her voice pitched higher, as if she grasped for some sense of control she normally had. “We didn’t know why the other teams didn’t come back, but I was sent because he thought I could guarantee things were done right this time. It’s either success or our lives. I am in the same position as both of you.” She struggled to rise, water dripping from her coveralls that had to be quite cold and heavy by now. “We need to find the ring and hope...someone comes for us.”

  She was right on that. “I repeat my earlier inquiry: does someone else have a cave radio?”

  Laurel nodded and she pulled off her pack to check. Tucker stalked through the water toward the tunnel at the other end of the room, headlamp tracking over the walls as he went.

  “Anything else you want to reveal while we’re out of earshot?” I asked in a low voice.

  She finished turning on the radio’s alert, then met my gaze. “The mercenaries get us here and help, Mr. Rolph advises you, and you get the ring. That was the plan I was hired to oversee. I really didn’t know what was down here.”

  I did believe that—few people would be stupid enough to put themselves in this position with prior knowledge of what they’d face. “Did Mr. Rolph?” He definitely had to be hiding something.

  “I...don’t believe so.”

  That’ll have to do. I nodded in Tucker’s direction. “Let’s go.”

  11

  Sump

  Exhaustion doesn’t merely creep up when you’re on little sleep, little food, walking constantly, and fighting hellish creatures from beyond. No, it slams into you full force, dropping weight into your body until you think you’re going to fall rather than stay on your feet a moment longer. When we found a dry cave room with a crevice we could fit into but the reptilian creatures couldn’t, and only one other exit to watch, we sat to take a break. I’d been conserving water but now I was parched and allowed myself several long drinks from my canteen between eating an energy bar. Whoever had the small cooking supplies and freeze-dried crap food must’ve been in the other group, as we only had the basics to survive on.

  That break turned into us taking turns napping, with two standing watch while the other slept. It lengthened the time we had to stay there, I knew; it would’ve been easier for one to stand watch while two napped, and two watch while one did, but though we didn’t say it, the elephant in the room pointed to Tucker as the one to be nervous of. Laurel didn’t like me but I didn’t think she’d up and leave me, and I didn’t suspect she believed I’d leave her to be alligator food.

  When everyone woke again after little more than fitful catnaps, we all took a moment to eat and drink again. Tucker had the added task of doing everything only with his left hand, from unscrewing the cap on his canteen to unwrapping his food. I, of course, offered no assistance, and he didn’t ask. He kept his peace in the far corner of the cavern we all shared, a dozen feet from the exit and crouched to lean against the wall.

  I was about a meter from Laurel, who sat in her still-damp coveralls. She’d stripped off her gloves and blew on her hands in between eating and drinking.

  I eyed her after polishing off my food, catching the continuing quiver in her hands and occasional twitch of her shoulders. “Why are you still shaking?”

  She cut me one of her death looks—I was quite used to them now. “We landed in that water several hours ago. Remember?”

  Vividly. “Please tell me you wore a water resistant undersuit.”

  Another scowl, rendered ineffectual by chattering teeth. “Just a T-shirt and sweat pants.”

  I resisted the urge to make a snarky remark as I suspected she was entirely serious. “Cotton?”

  “They’re my favorite—”

  No wonder she was freezing. I stowed my empty wrapper in the pocket of my pack then rifled through for my rolled up coveralls. “These will be big on you, but warmer than wet clothes.”

  She stared at my offered help for a moment, brows furrowing.

  “Cotton is useless when wet—I learned that the hard way my first time out. Get out of those things, put these on, roll up the cuffs, and then we can get moving.”

  At last Laurel accepted the assistance, warily wrapping her fingers around the corner of rolled up fabric, then met my eyes with a nod of thanks.

  I rose and strolled across the cave, my back to her so she could change in peace. Tucker stepped away likewise, whether out or propriety or simply a desire to move, I couldn’t say, but he slipped through the crevice to exit the room, headlamp bobbing over stone.

  I stood several feet from the archway, thinking. The enormity of the task before us seemed to unfurl more with every passing moment until it stretched before me, daunting in its impossibility. Three people, surviving long enough in these caves, hunting a tiny ring? With giant iguana-snakes traipsing about, ready to feed on us? In what world did Ashford think we were going to succeed?

  And what of Em?

  I couldn’t do the math anymore telling me what time—or what day it was—for her, and the app that would calculate it for me was on my cell back with Dawson and I was so used to having the phone that I’d stopped wearing a watch. I might have to send him a message at some point to give to her and Pru. And the stark realness of that possibility had tremors working through me, shaking me to my marrow, and panic clawing up my chest.

  I might have to say goodbye to my daughter.

  Laurel’s steps were heavy on the dirt behind me, boots dragging from her likely exhaustion. “Ms. Talbot.”

  I looked back over my shoulder at her with a sigh. “Yes, Ms. James?”

  Her eyes were shadowed under her helmet but still wide, grave and worried. I saw no sign of her wet underclothes but her coveralls hung over her pack, swinging down by her knees. My coveralls she was wearing might’ve fit at least one and a half if not two of her, but she’d rolled the sleeves and pants legs up as I’d suggested so nothing dragged.

  Her lips parted but it was another ten seconds before she spoke. “I haven’t taken you seriously, despite having reviewed your file.”

  I cocked a brow. “I’ve noticed.”

  “But I’m not sure I’d be alive if you hadn’t been with me and Tucker when cut off from the others.”

  Another fair assessment. “Probably not.”

  “I just wanted to say...for my part in things, I’m sorry.”

  She was a woman who had trouble admitting this, I guessed—I knew because I had the same malady and immediately recognized it in another. It is difficult to apologize. It is difficult to admit you were or have done wrong, as it requires an alternation of one’s entire world view.

  But sorry did nothing for me. Not a single thing. It didn’t change things, didn’t mend things, didn’t bring me any comfort. It didn’t make me any more likely to return to my daughter. But I nodded because she meant it, though I wouldn’t offer her any kind of forgiveness.

  “I accept that. And in return, I expect that when”—not if, but WHEN—“we leave this place, you personally will see to it that I am compensated according to my contract. And, should I not leave this place, you will do so and ensure Ashford upholds his end of the bargain and sees that my daughter and her guardian are given my pay. Is that clear?”

  Laurel nodded once then her chin lifted solemnly. “Absolutely.”

  “No more surprises,” I warned.

  “None.”

  At least she and I were on common ground now. I had no such hope for our mercenary, however. “And you know nothing more that would help me find the Seal?”

  She shook her head. “Not my area. Mr. Rolph was supposed to...handle that.”

  Fair enough. “Let’s keep moving.”

  Tucker awaited us by the exit, and the light from my headlamp speared past him to reveal it actually was a long, narrow tunnel

  Oh, this looks promising. “Did you check how deep that goes?”

  Tucker took a few steps back and turned to me, his frown deep enough to be a full blown glower. “A bit. It’s deep. Narrows
to the point of crawlin’, but I can’t see another way through. Couldn’t see how far it goes.”

  Once again, we had a slight dilemma: common logic dictated me or Laurel going first with Tucker in the middle, as the largest person can get stuck and might need help on either end. But then I felt much safer with the smaller, unarmed one of us three in the middle. “Will you take up the rear?”

  He hesitated, but perhaps he liked the idea of the resident cave guardians having to get through two of us to get to him, because he nodded. “Fine.”

  Laurel moved without me asking her to, falling into step behind me as I passed Tucker and stepped into the tunnel. Stones crunched against dirt under the heavy treads of my boots and limestone banged my helmet as the walls seemed to close in. The deeper I went, the lower I had to crouch, until I was on my hands and knees, crawling. Dust was thick as I moved, the air stale, and a few times behind me, Laurel gave a small cough. Each sound echoed, bouncing back at me. The air grew stuffier, losing its chill.

  As the decline we crawled along deepened, dirt shifted to rock, and from there my headlamp caught water. Soon I was wrist-deep in it, cold seeping through my gloves to ice my skin as I sloshed about. My knees soaked next and with the nicks already in my undersuit, I knew I’d feel it soon. Laurel would be hit doubly hard with even her borrowed clothes getting wet, but at least my coveralls would dry faster for her. Not far from the beginnings of water, a mini waterfall cut through the tunnel, a sheet of it running from a slat above. I crawled through it, wetting the rest of me, and continued on.

  A good twenty feet or so along and fresh air whispered in, drifting over my face and chilling my nose. It was welcome and I moved faster. Trickling water warred with—and won over—the sound of limestone scraping on my gear and the puddle beneath me shifted. I glanced up as best as I could in the cramped space. My headlamp hit blackness, much as it had earlier before we were first trapped. Please don’t let this be another drop, please don’t let this be another drop...

  I had no room to maneuver to retrieve a glowstick, so instead I inched along until my fingers wrapped around the wet end of the pitch, and leaned over to look.

  It wasn’t far this time, thank god; trying to crawl backwards was not going to be in the cards for us. Drop was less than seven or eight feet with water rolling down the rocks, so I shifted in the mouth of the tunnel until I could stick my head and upper body out. I arched my spine, limestone tearing at my backpack, and gripped the sides of the tunnel opening while I got my feet under me. With a deep breath, I edged forward and plunged down.

  My feet struck the pond, splash echoing loudly, and sank into the water. I went down three feet before hitting the bottom. Shock jolted up my calves to my knees and thighs, twining with all the exhaustion in my muscles and the sudden breath I sucked in hurt my ribs, but I was otherwise fine. I trudged through the water and glanced around as curses and squeaks sounded behind me, coming from Laurel.

  There was no reprieve from the water in this cavern—it covered the entire floor, up to my knees in some places and my thighs in others. The walls were curved and etched with lines carved by a river at some point, mostly pale calcite and going up at least sixty feet. I saw no sign of the creatures sharing the cave with us, which didn’t mean they weren’t here, of course, but just that they hadn’t arrived yet.

  Some basic species information would’ve been nice, like whether or not they could swim, and I wouldn’t pretend to be some expert able to determine based on appearance if one might be hiding in the water around me. Happy thoughts.

  As I moved deeper, my headlamp caught on the walls again. I paused, gaze narrowed, and sloshed through more water to take a closer look at an odd shape drawn on the wall. The limestone was deeply lined and grooved, yes, but this was different—lines cutting across the grain, deep and precise.

  The symbol was the Star of David with two crosses, remarkably similar—though not exact—to the Order of the Seal of Solomon.

  Bingo.

  The others splashed in the water behind me, Laurel moving nearer and Tucker grumbling under his breath after jumping. I ensured my camera was on and moved closer so my headlamp could shine directly on the wall’s marking.

  “Is that...?” Laurel started.

  “Seems to be.” Any rising elation I felt, I shoved back down again. This didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  Except that apparently people where down here long enough to carve it and not be eaten.

  I swung around with my light, checking for another way out, and wandered along while the others did the same. No more markings that I could see—no exit for that matter either. But there has to be—how would someone carve that and get out? Climb the way we came? Surely not—

  “Ms. Talbot,” Laurel called.

  I glanced back at her—she remained where the symbol was carved. “Yes?”

  She cast her flashlight downward, shining over the water where it met the wall. “This dips down—I think there’s a passageway.”

  Motherfucker. Tucker and I joined her and I eyed the opening. She was right—the water did dip down, and the arching hole was more than big enough to fit through. A sump. Sometimes they merely dipped down then up again; other times they went on and on, and into some tight places.

  “What the hell?” Tucker asked.

  “It’s a sump—a spot where water gathers in caves like this. And the symbol must mean we’re meant to go through it.” I imagined my companions were no more thrilled than I was. “Does anyone have diving equipment?” Of course I’d ask, but I’d seen the contents of their packs earlier when we took a break, so knew the answer.

  “Mr. Rolph had the basic scuba gear,” Laurel said.

  Of course he did. Maybe it would end up being a short path. Maybe not. I’d have to check, even though I had no idea what was on the other side.

  Or precisely how far would we have to go without air.

  This was such a bad idea. So bad. But I removed my guns and magazines, sealed them away in my pack, and pulled out a glowstick and some rope, the latter of which I planned to bolt just outside the tunnel.

  “You’re not really going to—”

  I interrupted Laurel with a look. “Are either of you going first?”

  Silence.

  Pussies. “Then yes, yes I am.”

  “You could get stuck,” she warned.

  Don’t remind me. I ended up skipping the bolt and instead pulled out a spring-loaded cam, tied the rope to the end, and found a crevice to wedge it into. “I’m going to run the rope through so you have a diving line to follow.” I wrapped the rope around my belt a few times and tied it until I was sure I wouldn’t lose it and then crouched in the chilly water to eye the passage. “Be careful about following me.”

  “And we gonna know if you’re dead?” Tucker asked.

  “Well, if the line goes slack after a few minutes, you can count on it.” I could hold my breath for ninety seconds to two minutes comfortably, depending on how panicked I got, which was a danger as I didn’t like the water. “Hopefully there’ll be spots to stop and breathe, or this attempt might be pretty short. I’ll jerk the rope when I get to the other side so you know you can follow.” I looked at Laurel, as she was the one I figured would need the help. “The water’s going to be cold but feel the tunnel above you for air pockets where you can steal a breath from. Okay?”

  She stared at the spot in the water I was about to swim through and vaguely nodded.

  “In the meantime, you’ll pray for the best—and, Tucker, that your linebacker shoulders are going to fit through here.” My heart hammered, terror real and palpable around me, as I eased down onto my stomach. I cracked the glowstick in my right hand and stripped the glove off my left; my fingers were cold but not numb yet, and hopefully I would feel air pockets.

  Bad idea, bad idea... I took a huge breath and dropped down, shifting immediately through the hole.

  I blinked as I moved, eyes adjusting to the water, and slithered forward. B
ubbles drifted around me, highlighted by the green glowstick. I couldn’t see much at all—and cursed myself for not bringing goggles just in case—so I relied on my hands, feeling along the walls, and pushed my feet against the ground to urge me along.

  Of all the things I had to do in my line of work, this was my least favorite. Disorienting and dangerous. Silt stirred around me, worsening visibility. My lungs burned and unlike on the surface I couldn’t merely breathe through my rising panic this time.

  My free, bare hand left the icy water and touched dry air above; I immediately twisted and lifted my head, fingers fumbling to ensure my face was lined up right. My nose and mouth surfaced and I took a deep breath. Then another. I held there for thirty seconds total, just breathing, desperately not wanting to move again though I knew I had to.

  Another deep breath and I submerged, turned again, and moved forward. My helmet banged the limestone and I ducked further, feeling still with my free hand.

  I squeezed past a particularly tight spot, wiggling until my backpack popped free, and rushed ahead, pushing along. Still I felt above me but the sump seemed to be tipping down again and there was no break, no precious inches of air to steal. I needed to breathe again. Soon. Every time panic rose, I fought it, thrusting it back all but physically, but I needed breath, needed air, needed—

  The space around me widened. I reached up, driving my hand through water until cool air iced my fingertips. My head surfaced and I sucked in a huge breath, gulping chilled cave air down until I was gasping and hiccupping. I blinked against water falling in my eyes, struggling to focus.

  Then hands grasped my upper arms and hauled me to me feet.

  12

  Reunion

  My reaction was immediate; I twisted to dislodge myself, arm shooting out with the heel of my hand poised to strike my opponent.

  A man grabbed my wrist midair. “Calm the fuck down.”

  I blinked. Stared. It did nothing to slow my jackhammering pulse. Water irritated my eyes, drip drip dripping from my hairline, but I couldn’t think to command my arms to move. The voice was vaguely familiar and I focused at last on Brandon, of all people, his lips oddly grimacing in irritation and exhaustion, rough dark stubble prickling his jaw. My gaze shifted over his shoulder to where Mr. Rolph stood.