She decided that she’d try washing the debris from her eye with water from the stream. Dejah couldn’t see in the darkness of the cave but knew that if she walked down the incline as she had numerous times earlier that day, she would eventually reach the water. She held her hands out before her and walked slowly in the direction of the stream.
She took small steps and took her time. The cavern was eerily quiet, and she could hear only the shuffling of her feet and the sound of her breathing. She stopped walking when she felt the water on her bare feet. She began to kneel but slipped and fell. She ignored the sudden pain brought on by her collapse and instead cupped her hands to collect water. She washed her eye until the foreign object was flushed free then drank and drank. The water tasted good, but it didn’t quell her hunger no matter how much she drank.
Dejah finished drinking and stood. She put her hands out in front of her and shuffled on still wet feet over the cave floor and up the incline. She had walked only a short distance when it occurred to her that she should have been able to see starlight streaming through the hole in the ceiling by now. She shuffled forward and faster in a panic. She stopped and looked above her then all around searching for the faint light that had given her so much hope.
She suddenly wondered if she’d gone the wrong way.
She couldn’t have.
Could she have?
She had walked up the incline.
Maybe it was the wrong incline.
Maybe she had walked up the bank on the other side of the stream.
Maybe she had gotten turned around when she fell next to the water.
Dejah tried not to cry.
Not to panic.
She thought for a second and tried to calm herself.
She turned 180° and slowly shuffled forward. She knew this action would take her back to the stream and from there she could go up the other bank and to the hole she so cherished.
She walked and walked, gingerly stepping on bare feet in the direction she felt she was to go.
She felt something moist on her feet and thought perhaps it was moss or algae of some kind but knew for certain that she didn’t remember stepping in it before.
She was definitely walking somewhere she’d not walked before.
She knelt and sat, unsure of what to do.
She knew if she continued walking, she’d most likely only get further away from the hole. She thought her best bet was to stay put and wait for the light of day to shine through the hole.
In the meantime, should sit there and wait and try not to cry.
41.
Julio couldn’t run anymore.
He was too out of shape and the adrenaline that had given him the strength to come as far as he had had long diminished. He came to a complete stop and fell into a fit of coughing. He buried his head into his arm while doing so in an attempt to muffle the sound. He coughed and coughed then fought to catch his breath then walked onward and toward what he hoped would be salvation.
He wasn’t going to let those demon monkeys keep him from a better life with his family in a new country.
Julio thought of this and all the possibilities that awaited him as he kept a steady pace up the tunnel. He reached the point where he’d almost given up dragging his brother when he heard something.
He paused.
He listened.
From the direction he’d escaped came the faint sounds of what sounded like laughing.
Like the horrid sounds of hyenas.
And the chattering of castanets.
The laughter and the clapping increased in pitch.
The noises grew louder.
And closer.
Julio broke into a run. He ran as fast as he could. His lungs were burning. His muscles unable to keep up with this drive. He ran as fast as he could for as long as he could then more.
He coughed.
His body fought for air.
Yet he continued running.
The garage door came into view, giving him a sudden burst of hope that filled his lungs and sped his legs.
He ran forward and slammed into the barricade.
It didn’t budge.
He banged the wood with closed fists and screamed for it to be opened.
“Open door!” he cried. “It’s Julio. Open door!”
He heard the peals of laughter from before
Whoops.
Howling.
The repetitive clapping of ivory.
Julio turned from the sounds echoing through the tunnel and returned to banging on the barricade.
“Open door!” Julio screamed. “Open the door.”
42.
Juan waved his hand to José who was repeating the same message ad nauseam over the radio.
“Cut that shit!” Juan commanded. He took the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it to the ground. He raised his AK-47 to the barrier and stepped back. José, Arturo, and the three other armed men in the barn watched Juan’s actions then mirrored them exactly until an army of pistols and rifles were leveled at the heavy wooden structure.
“What?” José whispered.
“Banging,” Juan explained in near silence. “Something’s banging on the door.”
José turned his ear to the structure. “I don’t hear….”
The makeshift door exploded outward in a shower of splinters and nails, dust and debris. Julio’s bloody, faceless body fell forward into the barn and a swarm of white animals leapt forward. The men screamed in disbelief and fired into the horde.
The cave dwellers pounced upon the men and tore at faces, bit fingers from hands, and pulled ears from heads. Men were knocked about and ended up shooting into one another. Juan accidentally strafed José’s body with a half a dozen shots, zipping him from chest to groin. José’s body was riveted and danced in spasm then fell to the ground. The sudden shock to his body caused José to fire his AR-15 upward at full auto. Bullets pierced the metal roof and shattered lights. Glass showered down onto the men then fell to the ground only to be painted with the sprayed blood of men and animals.
Arturo fired into the cyclone of violence as he backed away and toward the exit. He unloaded his AK until empty, dropped it, then pulled his 9mm and kept the barrage going as he backed into the hallway. He emptied his pistol into the body of the advancing beast before him and the animal collapsed in death at his feet. Arturo dropped his clip, slammed in another, put one last bullet into the monkey’s head, and continued backing down the hall. He came to a door and banged on it while still facing forward.
“Open up, boss!” Arturo commanded. “We’re leaving.”
The door opened and Miguel pulled Arturo into the room. Arturo slammed the door shut, put his pistol into his waistband, and took the AK-47 that his boss was holding onto for dear life from him. Arturo then kicked the folding conference table over and positioned it in front of the door.
“What the hell is going on out there?!” Miguel demanded.
Arturo went to the far wall behind his boss’s desk and unleashed 20 rounds in a horseshoe pattern into and through the exterior wall. Ancient wood splintered outward and the office reverberated in gunfire and in the echo of gunfire. Arturo turned back to face Miguel then jutted his chin in the direction of the corner.
“Boss, the gun.”
Miguel nodded then grabbed a second AK-47 from the standing gun rack adjacent to his desk.
The office door shuddered, and Miguel turned to Arturo in search of strength and question. “What’s out there?!”
“Chongos,” Arturo answered in a calm voice. “Lots and lots of pissed off Chongos.”
Arturo turned back to the wall before him and kicked the shattered boards outward, revealing the darkness of the desert beyond.
The office door shuddered once more and the table that leaned against it fell to the ground. The sounds of howls and screams of anger and excitement grew in volume and permeated through the flimsy door.
“It’ll hold ‘til I get the car,” Arturo promi
sed.
Miguel nodded then fell into sudden shock at the site before him.
A blur of white shot through the newly created opening in the wall and onto the back of Arturo’s head. The beast reached around and thrust its claws into Arturo’s eyes. Arturo screamed from the deepest well of his being. He dropped his rifle, reached up, and grabbed the violence perched upon him. The cave dweller screamed in seeming delight and pulled Arturo’s eyesight from his skull. Arturo pulled a fixed blade knife from his belt and swung wildly above his head in search of purchase.
The animal launched itself off Arturo to Miguel. Miguel raised his rifle and unleashed a torrent of gunfire in responsive panic. The spray went wild with his nervousness and two bullets caught Arturo in the neck. Arturo dropped to his knees in a geyser of arterial spray, painting his surroundings crimson red. The raging animal pounced on my Miguel’s chest and knocked him to the ground. Miguel instinctively thrust his arms out to block the creature but was too slow. The animal bit down on Miguel’s nose then jerked the severed appendage free and spit it aside. Miguel’s howls of pain and fear only seemed to fuel the papio onward and into a further frenzy of attack.
The animal slashed Miguel’s face open with its claws.
Facial muscles were split in half.
Into thirds.
Bone snapped then collapsed.
Blood pooled, running in every direction and into each new cleave.
Pain surged through Miguel’s body, overwhelming his nervous system and his ability to react with emotion or speech.
The animal continued strafing Miguel’s face until his eyes dissected into useless slices of collagen fibers.
Miguel’s last conscious thought was that of the blissful realization that he didn’t have to watch his own death.
43.
Taylor led his team back across the cavern and through the passage to the bank of the subterranean lake.
“It’s like déjà vu all over again,” Nickerson exclaimed as he panned the cave through night vision goggles.
“Zip it, smartass,” Hunter commanded across the darkness.
Taylor ignored Nickerson and Hunter’s cross talk and surveyed the scene before him for a second time.
He studied the lake and its shore, the cave ceiling and its walls. He inventoried ridges of karst and rimstone and made note of the temperature and heavy humidity. He visually measured how far the remains of fallen man and beast lay from the shore and the depth of the footsteps and claw marks that surrounded them. He counted four passages that were large enough to serve as entrances to the caverns, as well as exits from the underworld. Taylor led the team around the lake to the first passage. He studied it through thermal goggles and found some signs of usage. The second and third passages showed sign as well. But the fourth was by far the most widely used. It held the trickle of a stream and was littered with prints of caked mud, shed fur, discarded bone, and foodstuff. It smelled of musk and putrid urine.
“This is the one,” Taylor whispered.
The team stood in a half-moon formation around the passage entrance and watched as Taylor explained his findings.
“They’ve been using all these passages,” Taylor continued. “But this one by far the most. My bet is that it will eventually lead up and out.”
The team nodded in agreement.
“How we gonna fit?” Pearce exclaimed, noting the tunnel’s height of just over five foot.
“You’ll just have to turn hunchback for a time,” Hunter joked.
“It might open up to something taller,” Taylor offered, ignoring the comments from Pearce and Hunter. “So, until then, it’s heads down and take the problems as they come.”
The team nodded in the affirmative once more.
Taylor ducked his head and partially hunched over. He held his rifle at the ready and entered the tight, narrow passage. The team followed in single file, each adapting to the confines of the passage in their own fashion.
The floor of the passage was slick rock and worn smooth by the flow of water over a period of time no one knew. The air was thick with humidity and made hot by some unknown means. Taylor led his team through the passage and around and through the small stream and the narrow pools it formed. Occasionally, they passed the remains of some animal discarded or washed onto the rock shore and footprints of primates left in silt or loose gravel.
The passage slowly widened and the ceiling rose. The team came to a small chamber that allowed them to gather around each other for the first time since they entered the tunnel some 45 minutes earlier. They paused to stretch their backs from the strain of being bent for so long and checked or changed the batteries in their goggles. Some took the opportunity to smoke and others to drink water or to eat.
“Some crazy shit down here,” Hunter noted to Taylor on an exhale of cigarette smoke. He held his pack of cigarettes out before him, and Taylor took one and lit it.
“Yeah, I never would’ve guessed my introduction to the job would involve discovering a new species,” Taylor dryly observed on a puff of smoke.
“Discovered it and, if things go right, blast it into extinction,” Hunter joked.
The men paused to enjoy their smokes and further stretch their backs.
“Where you think they came from?” Hunter began again.
Taylor took a long drag on his cigarette then offered, “Zoo. Carnival maybe. Long time ago.”
“A zoo!” Hunter exclaimed in humorous disagreement. “They got out of a zoo then decided to live in a hole? Underground? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Shit, Hunter. I don’t know. And I really don’t care.” Taylor laughed. “You asked and I said the first thing that came to my mind.”
“Huh. That was the first thing that came to your mind?” Hunter smirked. He dropped his cigarette butt and moved to grind it into the ground with his boot then kicked it to the side into the half-inch deep creek to his right instead. “Because the first thing that usually comes to my mind is porn.”
“Even when talking about monkeys?” Taylor laughed.
“Especially. You’d be amazed at the sexual shit a monkey can do when put before a camera and properly directed.”
The two men stood silent for a bit then burst into laughter.
44.
Taylor called an end to the break then led the team forward and into the next section of the tunnel. The passage opened up and the team was no longer forced to walk with their backs hunched over or bent to either side. The passage also widened but not so much that they could hike side-by-side. They maintained a single-file line and followed the passage and the intermittent stream within it, all the while watching for sign of exit or for more of the animals that had begun their mission so far under the earth.
Taylor brought the team to a sudden halt with a raised clenched fist. The team stopped and then followed Taylor into a crouch and made themselves ready for whatever was to come. Taylor called Hunter to his side with the motion of his hand then pointed to an object some 100 yards before them. Hunter studied the signature then shrugged his shoulders to inform Taylor that he had no idea what the object was.
Taylor called Drake and Nickerson forward and led them and Hunter out of the passage. They entered into a vast cavern much larger and taller than the one that served as the beginning of their journey. They moved forward and toward the object like wraiths, spectral mercenaries focused only on the single object before them. They covered 20 yards then came to a stop and studied the object from a stationary position. Taylor stared hard at the heat signature. It was considerably larger than the dead baboon they’d examined but pretty much the same shape. Taylor didn’t notice a tail but then he wasn’t sure if monkey tails carried as much heat as the rest of their bodies.
Or if all the monkeys in the cave system had tails.
Taylor led the team closer. They covered another 20 yards in near silence and with swift determination. Taylor brought the team once more to a halt then studied the figure from a closer distance.
The heat signature was sitting with legs spread out before it and its arms held at its side.
Monkeys didn’t sit like that.
Did they?
No.
It was a child.
Taylor’s mind flashed through 1,000 questions at once.
What would a child be doing down here?
Was it along?
Had it been abandoned?
How could he approach it in total darkness without frightening it?
Taylor turned to the team and whispered, “It’s a kid.”
“Just about to say that,” Hunter offered. “But didn’t want to sound crazy before you did. What the hell’s a kid doing down here?”
“That kid damn near got lit up!” Nickerson exclaimed, lowering his rifle.
“It can’t see or hear us and the last thing I want to do is scare it,” Taylor explained.
“You don’t think it’s already scared being down here in a cave?” Nickerson interrupted.
Taylor ignored the comment and instead turned to Drake. “Your voice will be the least frightening.”
“Why because I’m a woman?”
“Yes,” Taylor answered.
“Screw that,” Drake snapped. “I’m supposed to like kids because I’m a woman?”
“I don’t care if you like them or not,” Taylor shot back. “I’m talking about your voice.”
“I hate kids. I won’t even watch my niece’s kids. They’re brats.”
Taylor sighed and stood. He called across the darkness in as calm a voice as he could muster. “Hello. My name is Taylor.”
Dejah turned to the call in shock and fright. She was both elated and scared to death. She stood and called back across the black ink. “Where are you? Who are…?”
“I’m about 60 yards away.”
Dejah scanned the darkness as though she would be able to see. “I can’t see you,” she called.
The Tunnel Page 9
