Of course, that would be impossible…
“What do you want to do, Sam?”
“Plant another transmitter, and if you’re happy, let’s continue further down. I have a crazy feeling that we might just meet at the bottom. If you lose radio reception, double back, and meet at the Rock. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Sam continued down the steep tunnel. There were boulders on either side, suggesting that whoever once built it, used stone to prop up the walls. Or that someone had actually built a real pyramid here first and then it was filled with water? Sam brushed the idea from his mind. It didn’t even warrant contemplation.
Sam checked his dive watch.
He was already 480 feet underwater. Their decompress time was going to be pretty long, not that Sam worried about that. He had the Rock, after all. It was his remaining Hydrox that worried him.
“How’s your Hydrox levels, Tom?”
“I’ve got another 40 minutes at this depth, how about you?”
“Same. Let’s just make sure we’ve got plenty of time to make the return. I have no intention of joining any king in his burial tomb.”
“I’m with you there.”
At 240 feet, the angle of the tunnel turned abruptly inwards, and the tunnel was once again horizontal.
“Your tunnel horizontal again, Tom?”
“Yeah, you too?”
“Yeah, it may have been just a tunnel, but it’s one hell of a deep tunnel, all the same. How any civilization worked out how to dig this beats me!”
“I’ve heard you use that voice before. You’re going to have to find out aren’t you? It will be Zanzibar all over again, won’t it?”
Sam smiled to himself as he shook his head, recalling the events of their discovery in Zanzibar last year. There’s no way I could be so wrong – twice.
“They’ll find how it was done one day, let me assure you. I just hope I live long enough to have my answer. Hey, I think I can see your light up ahead.”
“That’s not possible,” Tom’s voice was calm, but deadly serious.
“Why not?”
“Because I turned mine off more than a minute ago, when I saw your light.”
Chapter Two
Tom was so distracted by the brightness of the light, that he nearly missed the crack in the outer wall entirely. When the current grabbed him, he thought it was a monster of the deep drawing him into its jaws.
He would have been amazed to learn that the crack was no larger than his hand, but the extreme pressure gradient expelled the fluid like a jet. If he’d had time to prepare, he would have been able to brace himself, or at least avoid the direct point of flow.
Spinning from the pressure, his buoyancy disorientated by the flow, Tom’s helmet collided with the masonry of the tunnel wall, directly opposite to the crack.
Gas instantly began erupting from the fissure.
“Shit, my helmet’s been compromised…” he yelled, but no one heard his words. His radio, along with his faceplate, were destroyed.
Hydrox, the oxygen rich hydrogen gas designed for deep sea diving, flowed freely from his faceplate. The bubbles it created blinded him completely. With the high concentrations of hydrogen cyanide in his surrounding water, it was the positive pressure of the Hydrox that was still keeping him alive, but it would expire within minutes at this rate.
Tom flicked his flashlight on and off continuously. He had no idea which direction in relation to himself Sam was, but he knew that a message had to be passed, if he was ever going to see the surface. If he’d thought it through at all, he would have realized that, even with the ability to see, he would never have had enough gas to reach the Rock.
He was going to die.
Like all creatures, he refused to accept his fate, despite the circumstances. With no way of knowing that his radio had been damaged he kept trying to contact the only person on earth who had the chance to save him.
“Sam, my faceplate has been compromised, I need help – now!”
Without knowing whether or not his flashlight had been successful in attracting Sam’s attention, he switched it off. Through the millions of bubbles streaming from the crack in his faceplate, Tom saw the glowing light in the distance.
There. I have to reach it, before the darkness takes me…
Tom kicked his strong legs, and the fins propelled him in the direction towards the light, but without much visibility, he had little way of determining how close he was to it. Then he saw a second light, which was moving up and down, more like dolphin, towards him. And then the leaking Hydrox stopped.
He had run out of breathable gas.
Like a dying fool, Tom closed his eyes, held his breath, and swam towards his death – and death swam towards him. Within a minute, he no longer had to hold his eyes closed, and was surrounded by the darkness.
Unconsciousness wrapped itself around his mind comfortingly, like an adult spreading a warm blanket over a child.
*
Sam struggled to remove the deformed helmet. Using an emergency wrench connected to the back of Tom’s twin dive tanks, he gripped the helmet’s outer lock and pulled with all his might. The device still did not move. On his third, attempt, he got the casing to turn, then quickly pulled it off his limp friend’s head.
“Tom! Can you hear me?”
Tom’s eyes were open, and the man was still gasping for air, but something was wrong. The muscles around his face started to twitch.
He’s been exposed to the hydrogen cyanide…
Opening the cyanide antidote kit, Sam said, “Matthew, put the toxicologist on the line – and I mean, right now.”
Seconds later, he had a reply, “Doctor Johnston speaking.”
“Tom’s faceplate has been damaged and he’s been exposed to high concentrations of hydrogen cyanide… I have the antidote kit open, but there’s about ten fucking mini-jets inside – I need you to give me the sequence of administration.”
“Work from left to right, for the first three. Start with the aerosol amyl nitrite – give it immediately into his mouth, and be sure to hold his nose closed.”
Sam followed the order, and sprayed the aerosol solutions into Tom’s mouth in rapid succession. His hands were stable. He didn’t have time to be frightened. Sam now had the equipment and the instructions available. All he had to do was follow them, and Tom would survive – or he wouldn’t, but he would have been given the best chance.
Without waiting for Sam to acknowledge that he’d done so, the doctor continued, “Now, on with the first injection. It’s called sodium nitrite, and you’re going to need to administer it intravenously. That’s going to mean inserting it into Tom’s large jugular vein. Make sure it’s inside the vein, otherwise it won’t work, and now just shove the entire contents in.”
Sam had learned the basic concepts of venipuncture at college, while working on autopsies of certain mammals, but that was a far cry from inserting a massive needle into his best friend’s large neck vein.
He drew on his memories, and inserted it first go.
Sam attached the mini-jet and injected the full contents. Forcing himself to take purposely slow, deep breaths, he waited for a response.
“Okay, the sodium nitrite is in.”
“Good, now I want you to leave that needle inside Tom’s neck and attach the second mini-jet. That one is filled with sodium thiosulfate. You will notice, it doesn’t have a needle on the end. The reason for this is that you can insert it over the previous needle and just inject it straight in.”
Sam followed the instructions, and then asked, “Now what?”
“If you were quick enough, and your friend is strong, he has about a 25 percent chance that he will survive. If he regains consciousness, I need you to start working through the rest of the kit – as the packet says, from left to right, each one injected through the same port that you made when you inserted the second medication into his neck vein.”
�
�Thanks Doc,” Sam said, and for an instant he thought he saw his friend’s eyes starting to focus. “Now, Matthew, we only have one helmet between the two of us, and very little Hydrox in our tanks. We’re going to need you to send a rescue mission.”
“Rescue mission?” The incredulity in Matthew’s voice could be heard despite the radio friction. “Where the hell are you?”
“I’ll explain shortly, but first, you better bring up the Rock and start preparing for a rescue mission!”
In front of him, Tom’s open eyes, staring blankly into that space somewhere between life and death, appeared to recognize something. His pupils dilated, and his head turned to orient with Sam’s. Without speaking, he slowly looked up, towards the glow above.
“Where the fuck are we, Sam?” Tom’s voice was cold, but not frightened.
“Hey, you’re alive!” Sam patted Tom’s back. His friend coughed a little, but he looked like he was going to be okay. “Well Tom, I’m not certain, but if I was to hazard a guess, I’d say, we just entered the inner tomb of an ancient king.”
Chapter Three
The air was stale, and utterly devoid of humidity.
It was the first time since entering the glowing chamber that Sam even noticed. For that matter, he was only just now able to examine his surroundings. He hadn’t been aware of the unique dryness until now.
When he first dragged Tom’s unresponsive body through the opening and up into the dry stone surface, Sam’s only interest had been whether or not the gas was breathable. His watch monitored air quality and had quickly confirmed his suspicion that the hydrogen cyanide was confined to the water. Then he’d commenced Tom’s resuscitation.
His eyes glanced over the room which now served as their rescue chamber.
It was small, no larger than someone’s bedroom. The walls were built out of solid, cubed stone blocks, four feet wide. The stone walls and ceiling were entirely smooth. Above them, at the perfect center, was a square opening – just big enough for a man to climb through. It was from this opening that the strange blue glowing light radiated. Fifteen feet above, it would be nearly impossible to access without specialized equipment. Most likely, Sam guessed, this chamber served only as a deterrent for would be thieves.
His eyes returned to the walls.
Although smooth, there were a number of painted markings covering the entire chamber; pictographs which depicted warriors, with their weapons drawn as though they were placed there, ready to defend the upper levels of a vault.
Something about the pictures disturbed him.
He’d seen them somewhere before. Maybe in an archeological book or documentary on the Discovery Channel, but he doubted it. Somehow, he felt that he’d seen similar work with his own eyes. That in itself wasn’t particularly surprising. After all, Sam’s work with Deep Sea Expeditions, and as a ghost agent for the Secretary of Defense, often brought him to ancient archeological sites. He remembered a number of past missions that took him to Mayan sites, but failed to recall similar markings.
Without giving it any more consideration, he noticed Tom had sat up by himself, his hand instinctively reaching for the needle in his neck.
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Sam said.
“What is it?”
“It’s a giant needle I just used to save your life.”
“Do I still need it?” Tom asked.
“Probably not, but the doctors back Stateside recommended that I leave it in place, with its medical lock, until you’re on the surface… something about an air embolism or something. How do you feel?”
“Not bad, given my recent exposure with hydrogen cyanide and concoction of otherwise lethal chemicals that you provided me with.”
“You’re welcome.”
Tom’s eyes skittered across the smashed remnants of his dive helmet, “That’s mine?”
Sam nodded his head.
Tom’s hand reached for his forehead. A slight smile overcame his otherwise pensive face. “My helmet appears to have taken most of the damage.”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Not much. I saw the light up ahead and figured it must have been your light, so I turned mine off. There must have been a crack in the outer wall, from which water was gushing at high pressure. I didn’t even see it, but as I swam past, I was expelled through the water in an uncontrolled spin. My faceplate must have hit the stone, and then all I could see was the rush of Hydrox bubbles escaping my dive helmet. I knew I didn’t have long to live, so when I thought I could see light in the distance, I swam towards it, hoping it was you – not that I had any idea what you could do for me. I guess somewhere along the way, my Hydrox ran out, and I succumbed to hypoxia.”
“You were rambling gibberish when I got you out of the water,” Sam said.
“Thank you.”
“What for?”
“Saving my life – again.”
Years ago, Sam had saved Tom’s life on a training mission, when a $2 oil seal had failed, resulting in a total loss of oil pressure to the gearbox, and forced engine shutdown. Sam had managed to guide the helicopter into a lake and put it into a controlled descent through autorotation.
The other SEALs escaped the sinking craft, but when Sam surfaced, and a head count was performed, Tom was missing. Several of the SEALs had attempted to reach the helicopter, which had rapidly sunk to the bottom of the 80-foot lake. Sam, with his background in professional free diving, was the only one capable of reaching it. Inside, he found Tom in the cockpit, trapped by his malfunctioning seatbelt locking mechanism.
Sam laughed at the memory, as he recalled that Tom had been able to access his pilot’s oxygen mask, and had been comfortably breathing the entire way to the bottom, but unable to free himself. When he’d opened the door, his friend had just looked at him, sitting comfortably in the pilot seat, as if to say, what took you so long?
“You’re welcome Tom. If you count that airship last year, The Magdalena, that free dive in Saratoga, and the cave dive in Mexico when we were kids – you’ve still saved me more than I’ve saved you. I still owe you one.”
“Keep it,” Tom said. Then, looking around, asked, “Are you any closer to working out where we are?”
“I’m still pretty confident we’re in the entrance cavity of a Mayan king’s final resting chamber.”
“Ajtzak’s?”
“Judging from the representation of the Ark of Light at the entrance, which disappeared shortly before Ajtzak’s death, I think there’s a good chance this is it.”
“What about our rescue team – do you think we’ll make it until they can reach us?”
“The air’s dry, but the quality is surprisingly good. We have plenty of time. Matthew will get us out of here – don’t you worry. It will take them another hour for the rescue team to reach us,” Sam cast his eyes around the cavern. “Care to take a look around?”
*
Sam examined the opening in the ceiling above.
It was ten feet above them and perfectly square, with smooth edges of cut rock. When he was younger and played basketball at college, he could easily have jumped high enough to touch it. But he needed more than that. He needed to be able to climb into it, and once there, he would have to find a way to climb up the vertical shaft.
“You feeling strong Tom?”
“Strong enough – what have you got in mind?”
“I was thinking if I could stand on your shoulders, I might just be able to reach high enough into the opening to climb it.”
“I can get you up to it, but I haven’t a clue how you plan to climb it once you get there,” Tom replied.
“Leave that to me.”
Tom stood up, his entire six feet five inches making the challenge seem less daunting. He was tall and lanky, but his muscles were misleading, and he was probably the naturally strongest man Sam had ever met.
“You okay?” Sam checked again before climbing the monster of a man.
“I’ll be fine.”
Tom took a firm stance with his feet square to his giant shoulders and his arms in the air.
“Count of three?”
“Sure.”
“One… Two… Three…” Sam climbed up Tom’s back as though it were a tree stump. It was strong and hard as one, too.
Standing firmly on top of Tom’s shoulders, he was now able to reach the entrance. The stone walls inside the shaft were smooth like those below, making any thoughts of climbing next to impossible. Sam calmly withdrew a small metal device from his pocket. It looked very much like a flashlight. He placed it horizontally inside the opening and then pressed a green button. The device opened wider as its hydraulics moved outwards, until it became firmly lodged between the stone walls.
Sam then placed a second one just a little higher, and then gripping the higher of the two rods, he lifted his feet on top of the first and swung himself up. Once standing fully on the first bar, Sam was easily able to reach the top of the vertical tunnel.
“What did I say? Easy…” Sam gloated.
“Cheat.” Tom looked at him from below. “Am I coming with you?”
Sam then unrolled a small, nylon ladder. It was attached to the second rod, which he’d fixed to the very top of the vertical opening.
“Come on up.”
The second chamber appeared to be identical to the first, only this one had giant statues on either side of the opening. One at each end, both stood at least seven feet high. It was impossible to determine if they were supposed to be enemies or friends – both were fully clad in warrior garments.
“Do you think one of these guys is Ajtzak?” Tom asked.
“Could be. I’ve never seen a picture of him.”
Directly above the opening through which Sam had entered the chamber was another shaft extending high above them.
Sam took a step back to examine the place, and felt the block below his foot move slightly. Below, a sound of high pressured liquid moving stone, could be heard.
He looked around the room, half expecting the walls to cave in on him, “Any ideas where they came from Tom?”
The Mahogany Ship (Sam Reilly Book 2) Page 3
