When she came through the door he shuddered and said, “I have bad news.”
Kendra almost laughed at the idea that things could get any worse.
“They’re coming,” he said.
“Who?”
“Them.”
A gray chunk of underground Manhattan was spinning in 3-D. The image was made up of swirling radio waves that arced around a network of pipes, cables and sewers. Anything metal or concrete was shaded in blue. Gaps and voids, such as buried subways tunnels, dried-up streams and riverbeds, were indicated in violet.
“The bunker’s ground-penetrating-radar system,” Kendra guessed, squinting at the image.
“Right,” Jeremy answered, completely absorbed in the graphic. “It’s fantastic. Far more advanced than any radar I’ve ever seen.” The cross section of the earth was created through the transmission of low-frequency radio waves that penetrated out from the bunker walls into the ground. Whenever the signal hit an object, it would bounce back to the receiving antenna to create a picture. The high resolution and 3-D were achieved by systematically collecting multiple lines of data to form a tomogram, a very clear image of the earth surrounding the bunker. If anyone or anything tried to dig its way toward the bunker, the radar would pick it up.
Kendra had more pressing issues. “Jeremy, we need an outside line. Can you reach the Pentagon?”
“Not at the moment,” he replied, still lost in the floating bedrock. “The Internet went down half an hour ago.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled. “We have a problem.”
Kendra summed up the events of the last half hour, including her suspicion that Colonel Garrett had killed the general and put Operation Colony Torch back into play.
“Unfortunately, that’s not our biggest concern right now,” Jeremy told her. “These are the last recorded images taken by the GPR.” With a slide of his finger, the angle dipped farther below the earth’s surface.
Kendra could clearly see the massive silhouette of the bunker in blue. Directly above was a glowing green blob, shifting and changing shape, contracting like a giant amoeba.
“Because of their rapid movement, the ants are easy to isolate. You can see the swarms moving frame by frame.” Jeremy zoomed out. “The darkest green is where the ants are most dense and they disperse toward the edges.” From the surface of the earth, hundreds of quivering tentacles grew and retracted, spreading downward. “They start to get fuzzy where the radar gets weak. If you follow these two subcolonies, here and here, they seem to be moving in our direction.”
“The ants are headed for the bunker?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“I thought it’s supposed to be ant-proof.”
“Nothing in this city is ant-proof. Most of these walls are still bedrock and dirt.”
Kendra looked puzzled. “So the Siafu Moto can dig three hundred feet into the ground?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Mostly they live in pipes and sewers, subways and tunnels. Their connective nests are fairly shallow.”
“So how will they reach us?”
“Turtle Creek.”
“Turtle Creek?”
Jeremy pulled up another map of underground Manhattan and placed it over the 3-D image taken by the GPR. The Viele map, created in 1874 by Colonel Egbert Viele, was the only known map of Manhattan’s underground creeks and streams. It remained the bible for structural engineers, who had to reference the drawing carefully before a drop of concrete could be poured anywhere in the city.
Jeremy pointed to a long, twisted vein across the island. “New York is full of these underground riverbeds, mostly dried up and cavernous. Turtle Creek connects the East River to Turtle Bay, a subterranean river that snakes through half the city, all the way up to Riverside Park. It’s located right beneath the UN, practically over our heads.”
“How fast are they moving?”
“From these last images, it seems the closer they get, the faster they go.”
“They couldn’t possibly know we’re here.”
“Unless they’re being drawn to a massive amount of electricity.”
Kendra nodded at the bunker image. “The electrical field. It’s calling them right to us … how long do we have?”
“It’s hard to predict. Maybe an hour until they hit the ventilation system.”
“That gives us time to get to the roof.” She grabbed his wrist. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on. They might return to the surface if I shut down the power in the bunker.”
“You can do that?”
Jeremy frowned, as if insulted. “I can shut down the control center, the air-conditioning, all the lights and computers.” He thought a moment. “Yes, I’m sure they would head back to the surface.”
She checked her watch. “We don’t have time for that. The last flight out of here is in eighteen minutes.”
“You’re the boss.” Jeremy grabbed his briefcase as she started for the door.
Kendra made it to the door and froze. Tiny hairs prickled along the back of her neck. She looked to the ceiling.
Kercha kercha kercha kercha kercha
Jeremy stopped too. “What’s that?”
She stepped into the hallway. White tiles came alive in a mosaic of Siafu Moto. They rounded the bend and filled the hallway, spilled from the ceiling air vents. Kendra staggered backward in mute horror and slammed the door.
“They’re here,” she told Jeremy. “The hall is infested.”
He looked completely bewildered. “Oh … I was a bit off in my timing.… Let’s, uh, think about this.”
“Think fast!”
“There might be a way,” Jeremy said, pulling up a blueprint of the bunker. “I’m not sure why they built this tunnel—probably storage or some kind of vent—but it appears to be solid steel and as close to ant-proof as we’ll get. It winds around the entire bunker.” He highlighted the structure in red and traced it with his finger, talking fast and furious. “This is where we are, here, and if you keep going south, about five hundred feet, there’s an exit right up to the roof.”
“That’s where the helicopter lands,” she said.
Jeremy grabbed Kendra by the arm and hustled her to the back of the room. The small door was knee-high, like the closet in Paul’s lab. “Get in,” he said.
Kendra stooped and looked inside, wincing at the narrow space and shiny, mirror-like walls no more than eighteen inches in either direction. “Are you insane! I can’t fit in there.”
Jeremy eyed her head to toe and pressed both hands flat against her shoulders, as if measuring her dimensions. “Yes, I believe you can.”
Kendra knelt on one knee and stuck her head inside the door. “Absolutely not.”
“Hurry up.” He gave her a soft push. “You’re wasting time.”
“But you’ll never fit.”
“No, I probably won’t,” he agreed. “But as soon as I turn off the power, the ants will go back to the surface and I’ll meet you on the roof.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“I’m not chancing it, Kendra—go!” Jeremy spoke sternly, becoming agitated.
“It’s so dark.” She put her head inside. “Wait, I see some small lights down there.”
“Good. I’ll be sure to keep them running.”
Kendra paused for just a moment, regaining her nerve. She put her legs inside, then squeezed her body into the tunnel, tight as a sword in a sheath, until only her head could be seen. She lifted herself partway on her knees, but crawling would be difficult.
“This is ridiculous, Jeremy.” She stuck her head out the door. “Move! I’m coming out.”
Instead, Jeremy grabbed the back of her hair and kissed her hard on the lips. As they broke apart, he said, “Find Paul.”
The door slammed, and Kendra was surrounded by blackness.
“Jeremy?” She listened to the outside and heard the dragging of metal. Something heavy hit the door. She struck at the seam, but it wouldn’
t budge. He had locked her inside.
CHAPTER 42
“JEREMY!” KENDRA BANGED A few times but knew it was useless. Jeremy was stubborn. Besides, the ants were already inside the bunker and he had only minutes to turn off the power. She would have to crawl through the death chamber alone.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Kendra lay flat on her stomach and tried to rise on her knees but hit the ceiling. Lifting on her elbows was also difficult. She would have to squirm through the tunnel like a snake down a sewer pipe, arms bent like flippers at her side. After a few tries, it became apparent that the best way to move was by wriggling forwards on her knees and elbows in a sort of caterpillar crawl.
The walls were inches from her face and Kendra felt her heart throbbing out of her chest. The farther she moved from the computer lab, the more panic she felt. Suppose she reached the end of the tunnel and there was no exit? Maneuvering backward would be impossible, and surely a death sentence. She could feel the warning signs of sheer terror spreading over her body—sweat, trembling, heart palpitations—and she stuffed them down deep, replaced with a feeling of rage over her predicament. She could hold off the shakes for now, but it wouldn’t be long until she fell into a full-blown claustrophobic attack. Her eyes yearned for even a morsel of light. Every ten feet or so were tiny blue LED panels that glowed but didn’t illuminate anything else. Kendra had to squint even to notice them, but at least they guided her like a runway.
She could feel the rigidness of the steel, blunt trauma on her bruised knees, and she stopped for a moment to rest. She rolled onto her back, lifted one hand and placed it against the cold ceiling, which felt incredibly dense, like pressing against the whole planet. I’m buried alive in a tomb, she thought. Her worst nightmare had come true.
Kendra flipped over quickly and forced her body to move, taking deep breaths, and tried to remember she was a scholar, a five-time champion rower and a damn good cross-country skier. She did what came naturally: started talking to herself.
“Girl, you spent two days lost in the desert. You dropped ten pounds walking twenty-six miles in blistering ninety-degree heat, and then froze the whole freaking night.… Don’t be such a goddamn baby.” The trek became easier as she focused her thoughts and stared at nothing but each passing LED light. “What about the Congo … who was first to reach the study site … by an entire day, no less … like a damn monkey you took to that jungle … left the others in the mud, is what happened.”
Before long, she had crawled about two hundred feet, and then she stopped, sniffing the air. A fetid odor wafted through the tunnel, both strange and familiar. Then the tunnel opened up wider, with a foot more head room and enough space to stretch out both her arms. Kendra clambered toward the scent and it became more distinct. She stopped short and the stench hit her face like a damp towel. Whatever the thing was, it was right in front of her. Her fingers reached out warily, as though about to touch a corpse. Instead, they brushed thin bars of cold steel and warm cedar shavings.
Rats.
Kendra poked her fingers into the cage and felt fur. Sharp teeth bit her pinky nail. She laughed a cry of relief and patted down the walls, finding what she expected: a seam in the metal. Her fingertips traced the line.
She pounded the door.
The burst of light was blinding, and she squinted at the white walls full of specimen boards, black counters strewn with paper. It was Paul’s lab. Exhaling a burst of joy to be out of the tomb, Kendra squirmed from the hole. She staggered to her feet, getting her bearings, and ran for the closet, where she had seen a stack of Bug Out suits. She threw open the door with a surge of adrenaline and relief, but the feeling lasted only a moment.
Kercha kercha kercha kercha kercha
Kendra jolted. Inside the closet, Siafu Moto covered the shelves and walls. They sprinkled like rain from ceiling vents, crawled over all the equipment and the four boxes of protective suits.
Kendra slammed the closet door shut, as clusters of ants spilled into the room. They crawled overhead across fluorescent bulbs, dropping down in clumps, and scurried over every surface. She leaped onto a desk, sending a laptop crashing to the floor in a shower of papers.
The ants rushed her, stingers raised high in unison as if they were soldiers drawing swords. Heat sliced through her body and Kendra slid off the desk and spun around, slamming into a long table. She dropped to the floor and crawled beneath it on hands and knees, heading to the back of the room toward the tunnel.
The lights went out. Jeremy had cut the power.
Kendra struggled to reach the tunnel before the ants. She felt her way to the wall and tumbled into the cramped space, shutting herself inside.
Her heart was beating like a piston and she had to stop a minute, wrapping her arms around her head. She was going to throw up.
No time for that. Keep going. She slowly started to crawl.
The LED lights brightened.
“Thanks, Jeremy,” she whispered.
* * *
Jeremy Rudeau stared at the bunker main control system and switched off the last of the power. Immediately the buzzing stopped, as the electrical field disappeared. He listened to the quiet for a few moments, fairly certain the ants were headed back to the surface, preparing for their nightly raid. It seemed as if his plan had worked.
He left only one circuit running for the computer room and another one for the LED lights in the tunnel. The rest of the bunker would be dark. Jeremy crossed the room and put both hands around the heavy file cabinet. It made a piercing screech as it dragged across the floor. He opened the small door to the tunnel.
He looked inside and yelled, “Kendra!”
There was no answer. Relieved, he set off to meet her at the south end exit.
Jeremy stopped suddenly. The ant sound was low but distinct. He peered up at the ceiling, listening to the ants crawl through the vents; the sound became louder.
Not good. He rushed to the door and peeked out. Ants were everywhere. He gazed around the room, his mind racing, but it was too late to think. Jeremy scrambled to the back of the lab as hordes of ants dropped down from the ceiling like paratroopers, blazing down the walls. They blanketed the door to the tunnel, not that he would even fit inside. The sound of the ants pierced his brain as thousands of insects filled the room. Jeremy vaulted over an enormous mainframe, waist high and four feet across. He hid behind the machine, breathing like mad, his heart hammering.
Calm down, he told himself. Jeremy tried to settle his mind, think clearly. He knew the ants could sense movement. His best chance, his only chance, was to sit on the floor completely still, unmoving like a stone, until they retreated to the surface.
He breathed slowly through his nose until his lungs felt like they would explode. In his peripheral vision the colony moved under the dim light of the monitor, searching for a body to eat. A noise escaped from deep within his throat and Jeremy pinched his lips tight, focused on the robotic ants created by his computer programs.
I’m smarter than you, he thought. I know what makes you tick. I know how to fool you. Jeremy leaned back against the computer and closed his eyes. They won’t attack. Just sit tight. They won’t attack.…
For an instant, his mind flashed on the millions of dollars that ants had generated for his company, and he nearly laughed at the irony. In the next second, terror struck as the colony charged with a shrill cry. Eyes wide, he scrambled to his feet and sprinted over the computer, but stumbled and fell to the floor, kicking his legs and trying to stand. He gazed around the room at the explosion of life.
Jeremy knew he was going to die.
It wouldn’t be long before the insects engulfed his body, paralyzed his movements with their stinging venom, and he’d be forced to live through an agony beyond his wildest imagination. Jeremy couldn’t let that happen. He scanned the room for things he would need. The computer was plugged into a wall socket across the room, and just beyond that was a counter with a coffeepot. That would do.
Jeremy took a
final deep breath and ran for the counter, right over the ants, leaping for the coffeepot. There was barely any liquid left, but he poured the cold java over his right hand.
Ants blanketed his pants within seconds.
All at once Jeremy was aware of the painful stings and he doubled over the counter. It was as if someone had doused half his body in gasoline and lit him on fire. They raced from his waist and arms toward his chest, and he clamped down on a scream lodged in his throat.
With trembling fingers he grabbed a pen from his shirt pocket, the silver Montblanc Kendra had given him. Jeremy winced in agony and struggled slowly down the counter to the computer cord, holding the pen firmly in his wet hand.
The weight of the ants was upon him, up to his chest and neck. They scuttled across his face, which was beginning to puff like dough.
Jeremy was blinded from swelling around his eyes. He had to keep his wits about him. His muscles were giving out, and he used all his remaining strength to reach the end of the cord. It was like wearing hot baseball gloves, but his swollen fingers managed to jerk the plug from the wall while keeping his grip on the pen, still slippery from the coffee.
Jeremy found the spot. He started to lose his faculties and hoped to make it in time, before complete paralysis set in. He jammed the pen inside the wall socket and felt the sheer force of ten thousand volts of electricity. His body jerked with spasms but he couldn’t smell the burning of his own flesh.
CHAPTER 43
THE LED LIGHTS IN the tunnel flashed on and off, as if from an electrical disturbance, and Kendra paused, holding her breath.
The ants are eating the wires, she thought.
Crawling was more difficult. The earth was cold three hundred feet below the surface without any source of heat. Kendra’s muscles were cramped and her hair still wet from the shower, making her teeth chatter.
“It’s like a refrigerator in here,” she complained, just to hear a familiar voice, and then stopped again, blowing hot breath into her cupped hands. All she wanted to do was sleep. She exhaled and lay flat on the steel floor. “Just one minute to rest.”
The Colony: A Novel Page 20
