They were alive. And they found us.
Relief was put on hold while I continued to gulp down air and stare in shock. “Where’s Moti?”
“He went back to camp.” Brandon let my wrist go and my arm dropped bonelessly to my side. “Where the fuck’s Tucker?”
I gestured over my shoulder. “With Laurel in the room I just left.” Speaking of... I fumbled with numb hands, my bare one swollen with cold and fingers useless as I plucked at the rope tied to my belt. When I had it free, I sloshed for one of the stalagmites outside the sump and wrapped the diving line around it, and tugged the rope so they’d know I made it.
Since I wasn’t eager to stand around in the water waiting for them, I trudged forward. This cavern was much like the last but water only covered about half of it, and I pulled myself onto dry limestone then eased to a sitting position against a wall. My braid was soaked and splashed fat drops of water on the ground as I twisted it like a rag, the sound echoing. I glanced up, briefly, as if expecting some creature to descend on us from the noise, but it never happened.
“If they’re not coming, you’re more than welcome to tell them I made it through safely,” I called to Brandon. “Maybe try pulling on the rope in Morse code?”
He gave me a glare and went to inspect the sump.
Mr. Rolph knelt two feet in front of me. His coveralls were filthy and soaked up to his knees, helmet dusty. So was his pornstache, which must’ve been irritating. Warm brown eyes met mine, this close more readable despite the thick glasses than they had been at a distance. “We spoke to Dawson—he said you were attacked.”
“Oh yes.”
“Are you sure—”
“Not hallucinating.” Though I wish I was. “Was there...nothing at all in your research of the area that indicated precisely what would be guarding these caves?”
I watched him, my exhausted brain tracking and trying to interpret the hesitation as his mouth opened but no words came out.
“Mr. Rolph?”
“This cave is named after a holy man, Ms. Talbot, and it’s sacred to local Oromo people and Islam adherents. People stay clear. I heard no rumors of what might prowl it.”
“The bone we found didn’t ring any warning bells?”
“It rang many. But after the Pulse, anything could be down here.”
My gaze snagged the gold chain at his neck; while I couldn’t see it, I remembered the cross hanging there the night Ashford gathered us at Kent House initially. I was raised in an atheist family and might not put much stock in religious symbols, but in a world where the supernatural was real, I understood people who did. And I honestly believed he didn’t lie about not knowing what we were going to encounter down here.
“If you didn’t run into anything,” I said, “perhaps they don’t frequent this part of the cave. Here’s hoping I don’t have to introduce you. How did you get around the cave-in?”
Mr. Rolph stood and gazed over the water where Brandon was helping Laurel through as she sputtered and choked. “We went back the way we came and then took another entrance.”
If they had time to do that, we had to’ve done a hell of a lot of walking and climbing. “How long have we been down here?”
“Three days.”
Holy shit. My circadian rhythm was way off because it didn’t feel like that at all. “Have you seen any symbols on the walls?”
He gestured over his shoulder; squinting, I could barely make out the marks, but they were there across the room.
“So we’re going in the right direction?”
“I believe so. We were about to head through that tunnel when Brandon heard you. Any injuries?”
“Tucker broke his hand. He set it himself, so I can’t speak as to the quality of his work. Do you have training?”
He nodded. “Beyond first aid, yes.”
“You might want a look at it.”
Tucker was climbing out of the water just then and Mr. Rolph rose to see him. Maybe he’d get that hand taken care of after all.
I retrieved my guns while the others drained water from their clothes, reorganized my pack and checked my equipment, had another drink from my canteen, and rose. I ached straight into my bones but the only solution was to get moving again or I’d seize up and be stuck. There was still a ring to find and giant snake-lizards to avoid. The odd groan and grumble sounded behind me. Honestly, if they wanted to sit around and wait to be eaten, they were quite welcome to.
There were multiple paths into the room; I found another symbol like the previous one and followed the passage beside it. The others fell into step behind me, silent but for the odd low-voiced whispering I couldn’t make out between the two mercenaries. Perhaps Tucker was filling Brandon in on everything Laurel had said.
A narrow path led out of the water and up a slight incline, fallen rocks here and there for us to climb over. Dust scraped under my boots and I was sure I left a trail of water behind me like breadcrumbs through the forest. No other noise but that from my companions moving sounded.
“Mr. Rolph,” I called. “Did Dawson happen to have any messages for me?”
“This isn’t a fucking answering service, beauty queen,” Brandon snapped.
There seemed a very good chance I was going to stab him and leave him for reptile food.
“He said to tell you Martin thought you were very funny,” Mr. Rolph spoke up.
But of course. Hopefully we could find the ring, get out, let him know it was futile, and—
Something crunched underfoot. I paused and glanced down, shifting my boot tread back. White peaked through the dirt, a weathered and bleached bone. Perhaps a rib. Probably human.
My right hand eased to the gun on my hip and pulled it from its holster.
The others grew quiet behind me, all silent but for the rustle of clothing. Whether or not they saw the bone, I wasn’t certain, but surely by this point if I showed a desire for caution, they had to figure there was a reason. Tense stillness wrapped around me, clutching my shoulders with cold, clammy fingers.
We hit a partial cave-in, chunks of rock in our path. I glanced up to see darkness above, no sign of more rocks ready to tumble. Still, I remained silent and careful as I navigated the fallen boulders, squeezing through a particularly tight passage. One by one they followed me until we were walking a relatively flat surface once again.
The tunnel curved, pale limestone cutting over the bend. My clothes still dripped water and the wet lump of my braid shifted over my back, irritating me. I raised my gun and slowed my steps, eyes picking through the poor light as I rounded the corner.
No creatures. Yet. But the tunnel opened into another room, white narrow shapes I could identify—but didn’t want to—scattered across the floor.
And there was definitely more than the remains of a couple of mercenary parties.
Some bones were old and gray, a brittleness to them, while others were white and gleaming. Not all were human, I didn’t think. I shone my light over the room; parts of the walls were regular limestone but changed toward the back into what almost looked like a type of brick, as if someone had been building on to make it like a room before abandoning the task.
A room or a tomb. I was leaning toward the latter.
Many of the bones were confined to the corners and scattered haphazardly, pieces everywhere. Either they were shifted by these creatures over the years, or they tore their victims limb from limb. I couldn’t decide if I was glad they didn’t swallow them whole like a snake.
“Shit,” someone cursed behind me.
I moved faster, wanting distance between me and the people making the noise. This room had multiple exits besides the one we came from; the first was off to the side, a natural archway in the wall like we’d come through. Another was barely a crevice and I doubted even Laurel could squeeze far through it. The other was opposite me and I walked to the center of the cavern, bones and skulls rising on either side of me, toward the bricked far wall with a manmade arch. Above the doorway
was another Seal—this had to be the right direction.
No comment on whether I thought that was a good thing or not.
My face and hairline had dried but now it was sweat beading across my brow, rolling into my eyes, and cold terror worked its way through my veins. My clothes were still sopping wet, dripping as I went, but at least were otherwise silent. Dirt slid beneath my boots I crept through the main doorway and around corners as the passage snaked left and right, tension climbing up to grip my shoulders and squeeze me until I could scarcely draw in a breath.
At the end of the tunnel, I peered around the final dark corner.
Dozens of them.
My headlamp crossed back and forth over the bodies. I lost count, staring, eyes widening, my hand holding the gun dropping because my weapon suddenly seemed far too heavy to keep raised. My lips parted in an unreleased gasp of horror.
The same reptilian snake creatures as we’d seen before lined the floor, stretched out and sleeping. Long tails, thick bodies. Those horrible snake-like heads.
My gaze traveled to the other side of the room, a good sixty feet or so. Another doorway arched, this one with a seal above it too, and all the walls were the same limestone finished brick-look.
Someone had, once upon a time, built this room. And possibly populated it with these creatures to keep out people like me.
There was no way past them. Even with my vague memories from taking gymnastics for a while as a kid...I could be a fucking Olympic gold winner and still not make it through there—the spaces between the creatures were too wide to reach with a step and I couldn’t jump and land with such precession.
I backed up, bumped into Tucker, and bit back a curse. He and the others crowded, staring on, until they backed up one by one and we got out of there as silently as possible.
Only when I was once again in the safety of the other room did I let out a breath at last. Fingers shaking, I holstered my gun. Took another breath. Exhaled. None of it was helping. Jaguar shamans? Great. Demonic entities in books? Bring the fuckers on.
But no way in hell was I setting foot in that room without a flamethrower.
“There must be another way around,” I said. “We passed another door.”
Mr. Rolph said nothing.
I pressed. “Help me out here.”
His gaze trailed the entrance to the winding path that led to the creatures. “It looked...official. In my opinion. The entire way through the cave, nothing has looked like this.” He indicated the designed archway, the brick-look of the limestone walls.
He was right. Official. Like the closer we got to the Seal, the more formal looking the cave became, as if we’d run into some sort of temple to it deep in the bowels of Kadhim.
Shit.
“We could look for another entrance,” Mr. Rolph said in a low voice. “Even go back out and around to another passage into the cave? Surely there’s something.”
The expression Tucker and Brandon gave me suggested they didn’t like that option very well. “We’ll find another room guarded like this, right?” Tucker asked, eyeing Rolph.
The older man hesitated for a moment before nodding. “It’s a safe bet that they’re here to guard the Seal. The closer we get to the target, the more of them we’ll find.”
Plus god knew how many others were scurrying around in the meantime. “Anyone happen to bring some way to nuke them? Because, really, how in the fuck are we supposed to get through there? Are you going to jump in and tackle them, Crocodile Hunter style? Hmm?”
Brandon lips twisted in something vaguely resembling a smile, calmly raised his gun, and pointed it at my chest. Five feet away, I wasn’t going to disarm him, and my heart thumped sickly at the large barrel on me.
“Let’s be reasonable,” Mr. Rolph said.
Tucker lifted his weapon as well but pointed at Laurel. She squeaked in response, eyes growing huge and meeting mine. He couldn’t grab her with his broken hand—she could run and dodge—but I wasn’t outrunning Brandon.
“We’re gettin’ the ring,” Tucker said in a cold voice, “so that we can leave. You’re the expert. Get yer ass in there and do it.”
Shit. And I had no doubt that if I went for my gun right then, they’d shoot me and make Mr. Rolph go. Granted, the gunfire would wake the beasts in the next room but I suspected they weren’t thinking that far ahead.
Or maybe they did, because Tucker didn’t even blink when his friend pulled a gun on me. Maybe they’d been discussing more than just what they’d missed while separated.
Goddamn it. Okay, I just had to think. I was a problem solver. It’s what I did. Pregnant at seventeen, disowned and left penniless? I solved the problem. Need a better education for my daughter? I solved the problem. On a job and stuck in a cave with a gun to me, forced to go through a room full of mythical monstrous creatures who would kill me?
I will solve this motherfucking problem. There is no sense wasting time on something you can’t control. You do what you can, adapt and keep moving, and when circumstances change, you seize things for your advantage.
And my advantage would come yet—I was determined.
I set my jaw and turned back toward the archway. Crossing the space on foot...not an option. No way. But I crept forward, back through the tunnel, hoping to come up with some plan of attack—even if it was to hide in the damn corner, throw a rock at the entrance, and send the creatures after the rest of my party. I’d lose Mr. Rolph and Laurel, yes, but sacrifices had to be made.
Brandon kept close enough that he could shoot me with ease and I still couldn’t pull a gun on him or disarm him. I grit my teeth and focused instead on the room once I reached it again. Even knowing what I’d see this time, panic still clawed through my veins as my headlamp trailed over the sleeping bodies.
I can’t do this. Cannot. I had a little kid at home, waiting for me.
And I couldn’t get myself shot, either.
I gave myself a mental shake and tried to regain my focus. Think. Plan. Problem solve. I can do this. The creatures, I still suspected, were blind. So I had to make very little noise...and if I stepped on one...
My gaze traveled to the ceiling.
When I backed up and gestured at Brandon, he stepped backward through the tunnel slowly, gun still trained on me, and we returned to the adjoining room.
“Empty your packs,” I said, eyeing each of them in turn, “and let me see what equipment you have.” And I set about working out of my sopping wet undersuit so I was cold but dry.
Dripping would be a bad thing considering what I had in mind.
❇
Ten minutes later, Mr. Rolph—eyes dark and worried, pornstache twitching—helped hoist me up in the entrance to the reptilian lair.
I bit savagely at my lip, keeping in any noise that might escape as I balanced precariously on his back. He held steady, to his credit. The chilled cave air rolled gooseflesh up and down my bare legs, and fine hairs rose on my arms. I had boots, shorts, and my tank top on, plus the knee and elbow pads, and a pair of spare, dry gloves—that was it besides my belt, climbing harness, and guns in holsters. All the water I could wring out of my hair was gone and I hope to hell it kept for a while.
Spring-loaded climbing cams were tucked in various spots on my belt and even in my damn bra—I didn’t want them jangling at my hips but I needed as many as I could carry. I slipped the first one out from between my boobs and lodged it in a ceiling crevice, carefully releasing the device until it locked in place. From there, I hooked my harness on so I could hang.
When I was successfully suspended from the ceiling, I released a shuddering breath and gave the signal. Mr. Rolph backed off and I was dangling several feet in the air. For an instant I made the mistake of glancing down and seeing what awaited me throughout the room.
This was a much better plan when I wasn’t thinking about them.
I looked away, took a deep breath, and then fed the rope I had loosely wrapped around my waist through the new anchor in the
ceiling. Brandon had the other end and I was putting tremendous faith in him to hold it. When the rope was in place, hooked once again onto my harness, I eased out another cam. I reached, stretching my arm as far as I could go, until I squeezed the cam into the nearest crevice and hooked another strap of my harness on. Two straps on two cams at all times except for when I was moving to hook onto another—it was the only way to move. Once secure, I unhooked my other strap from the first anchor and let myself hang over the second. I breathed. Shifted. Tried not to look down past my dangling feet at the floor.
Little by little. You can do this. Or you’ll be shot.
Bleeding out might be more fun than being eaten, however.
Though I thrust her back, Emaleth flashed in my mind and I ached for her, wondering what time it was, what she was doing, if she worried—
You’re not “Mom” here. You’re a badass mofo artifact hunter swinging from the ceiling over monsters and you cannot be soft.
I eased to the next spot as silently as I could and already my arms were sore, tired from the climbing thus far and the exhaustion settling on me. The cams creaked and squeaked softly, hopefully only seeming loud to me because I was so close, and bits of dust drifted down. Sweat dripped in my eyes; I swiped it with the back of my hand, swallowed dryly, got the rope fed through, and reached for the next crevice. The process was painstakingly slow, my arms shaking by the time I was almost half of the way there. Tremors rocked my muscles, burning. I slowed for a moment and breathed, trying to work some feeling back in my arms.
The rope above me jerked; I cast an irritated glare back to Brandon. I saw little of his face, the lip of the helmet shadowing his eyes where the headlamp’s light hit it, but made out his impatient gesture.
So not only was I forced to cross the room alone, but I couldn’t take a break. I definitely had to ensure Laurel survived as I expected a rather lengthy speech for Ashford about this in which she’d probably have these two mercenaries killed.
Solomon's Seal Page 12
