57.
Megan was hysterical.
All that she had seen and heard had caught up with her and flooded her body with pain, fear, and uncertainty.
She sobbed uncontrollably.
Screamed at things in the truck.
And cursed the road before her.
The biggest problem with the latter was the ruts and potholes that kept her from driving faster.
The second was the caliche dust that kicked up from before Tom’s truck and coated it in talcum.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” she screamed through heavy sobs. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
Megan flipped the truck’s windshield wipers on and flooded the windshield with washer fluid. The powder-like dust mixed with washer fluid and frosted the windshield in a white-colored sludge. Megan continued cursing and pumped the windshield washer until the control wand broke off in her hand.
The wipers opened a hole in the sludge just in time for Megan to clearly see the Border Patrol vehicle she was about to plow into at 50 miles per hour.
58.
Agent Andrews and Agent Carter jumped off the roof of their vehicle just as it was struck by the speeding truck. Both men rolled off the ground and instinctively rose to their feet with sidearms drawn. They cautiously approached the wrecked vehicle, cutting through a cloud of radiator steam, dust, and smoke.
They were five feet from the cab when a disheveled blonde woman fought her way from behind a deployed airbag and into the road. Gravity and shock grabbed the woman and threw her to the ground. She grabbed her bleeding head, stood, and, upon seeing the men in uniform before her, began screaming.
“Dead! They’re all dead!”
“Ma’am, are you okay?” Agent Andrews asked as he holstered his pistol.
“They’re all dead! All of them!” Megan continued.
“Ma’am, you’ve been in an accident,” Agent Carter stated in a calm voice. “Agent Andrews is going to help you while I retrieve the first-aid kit from my vehicle.”
Megan nodded. She paused for a moment then began yelling again at the sight of Agent Andrews moving toward her.
“No! We gotta leave. We gotta leave now. They’ll kill us. They killed everyone.”
“Who’s everyone, ma’am?” Agent Andrews asked.
Agent Carter returned with a first-aid kit and a bottle of water. He held the bottle out to Megan. She grabbed the bottle, retreated a few steps, then chugged the container dry.
“You’re in shock, ma’am,” Agent Andrews informed Megan. “You need to sit down.”
Megan slammed the empty plastic bottle to the ground and declared, “Screw that! We’ve…we’ve gotta go. I’m telling you, they killed everyone, and they’ll kill us too.”
“Who, ma’am?” Agent Carter inquired. “Who killed everyone?”
“These…these,” Megan searched for the words. “These apes! Freakin’ monkeys. Those monkeys killed everyone.”
Agent Andrews and Agent Carter looked to one another then looked to Megan and offered in unison, “Chainsaws.”
59.
“Light.”
Hunter, Drake, and Dejah rushed to Taylor’s side to get a better look at his promise.
“Light,” Taylor repeated. “Up ahead.”
Dejah smiled and clapped her hands. Hunter and Drake nodded in stoic understanding and fell back into position behind Taylor and Dejah.
Taylor led the group cautiously through the last ten yards of the tunnel and into a large cavern. All stared at the staircase of jumbled rock illuminated by a beam of light on the other side of the cave.
“Is that the way out?” Dejah asked.
Taylor nodded but the moment of hope was broken by the echoes of shrill barking from the tunnel they’d just exited.
Taylor, Hunter, and Drake instinctively checked their ammo and reported their findings to one another. Taylor put his hand to Dejah’s back and commanded, “Go! Run!”
Dejah sprinted on bare feet across the cavern and toward the staircase. Hunter and Drake followed in haste. Taylor armed his last M84 grenade, threw it into the tunnel, and ran toward the far side of the cave. He counted the seconds then yelled, “Now!” and dropped to the cavern floor. Hunter and Drake did the same, taking Dejah with them.
Light and sound exploded from the tunnel and shook the cavern and all within it. Hunter stood and pulled Dejah to her feet. Drake stood and the three continued their sprint toward the way out.
Taylor stood and was immediately knocked to the ground. He rolled over and came up with his rifle at the ready. A bull baboon, its fur singed and smoky, caught the barrel of Taylor’s rifle in his hands and threw it and Taylor aside with little effort.
Taylor fought to keep his footing, spun around, and fired a burst of three rounds.
The first bullet struck the primate in the shoulder, the second into its trunk, and the third went wild. The beast howled in anger and charged. Taylor fired once more only to hear the click of an empty chamber. He unclipped the sling from his rifle and swung his weapon like a club into the advancing animal. The butt of the rifle crashed into the beast’s lower jaw, sending a spray of blood and teeth outward. The animal collapsed in death and Taylor pulled his pistol.
“Taylor!” Hunter yelled across the cavern.
Taylor looked in Hunter’s direction to see the warning on his face. Taylor turned back toward the tunnel to see a horde of primates spilling forth. Taylor drew a bead on the first animal with his pistol, dropped the animal with a single shot to the neck, then turned and ran toward the rock pile. Drake calmly walked from the rocks in Taylor’s direction. She got into a crouch and waited for Taylor to pass her.
“Elon says hello!” Drake laughed and ignited her flamethrower, sending forth a hellish stream of flame exploding outwards of 50 feet. Primates at the lead of the troop burst into flames, their fur singed, their skin melted into their muscle. The troop howled in fear and surprise, shielded their eyes from the light and heat, and fought to breathe.
Taylor scrambled up the rock pile toward Hunter and immediately cupped his hands. Hunter stepped into his friend’s cradle and Taylor launched him upward. Hunter grabbed the rim of the cave in and pulled himself up and onto the ledge. Hunter turned around, lay on his stomach, and plunged his hand into the hole. Taylor grabbed Dejah and lifted her up and toward Hunter. Dejah’s fingers grasped Hunter’s hand then grasped for anything as the rock jumble below her and Taylor shifted and collapsed.
Drake looked up from the base of the stack of rock and earth to see it fall upon her. She tried to run but was instantly buried by several thousand pounds from the waist down. The dust cloud from the collapse quickly dissipated and Drake looked through the haze to see a dozen primates descending upon her. She scrambled to free herself but knew the task hopeless given the weight upon her. She knew her legs were crushed and that her only hope was to free her sidearm so that she could end her life quickly.
She dug with bare hands through the rock and gravel, trying with all her might to get her Glock. She made it all the way through the rubble to the butt of the pistol before the primates circled above her and stared down at her with hungry eyes.
60.
Taylor stood from the rubble and coughed. He pulled Dejah to her feet, dusted her off, and asked, “Are you okay?”
Dejah began to speak and then screamed at the sight of Drake being pulled apart by a horde of primates below her. Taylor pulled Dejah to his waist and buried her face in his torso.
“We’re safe,” Taylor explained. “They won’t come into the light and we’re right here in the middle of it.”
Dejah pulled from Taylor to study the beam of light she stood within. The light shone through the large hole above and downward into a semicircular space perhaps some 20 feet in diameter.
“See,” Taylor said, pointing below the small mound they stood upon to the edge of the light. “They like the dark. They don’t like the light.”
Taylor had no sooner explained such than the baboons bega
n testing his theory.
The primates crashed into the light with their hands shielding their coal black eyes. They darted toward Taylor and Dejah then retreated in haste as if the light was a source of pain or sudden reprimand. Taylor saw this and knew their time in the safety of the sun was limited.
“Hunter!” Taylor called into his radio. “Come in!”
No answer.
The primates continued their testing.
They ran into the light then retreated quickly, each time seeing how close they could come to the two humans they so desperately wanted.
“Hunter!” Taylor called again.
No response.
The primates got braver, running up the mountain to within feet of Taylor and Dejah before screaming and turning tail out of the light.
Taylor ignored his radio and instead screamed upward and out of the hole above him.
“Hunter!”
Dejah shrieked as a monkey pushed toward her. Taylor put two pistol rounds into the beast and the momentum of the blast sent it backward and into a somersault down the hill. The remaining primates howled and shrilled in anger, hurling themselves into the light, now more determined than ever to take the two figures before them. Taylor emptied his pistol into the first two animals to approach, dropping them in their tracks. He dropped the empty magazine from his pistol then slammed home a fully loaded one.
Dejah sobbed and clung to Taylor. A long shadow passed over Taylor and he looked upward, half expecting to see a troop of baboons descending upon him. Instead, he saw the bright yellow arm of an excavator lowering into the hole. The primates seized the opportunity the lack of light provided and rushed forward. Taylor holstered his pistol and grabbed Dejah by the waist. He lifted her up and commanded she grab ahold of the hydraulics. She did and Taylor yelled over the howls and screams quickly surrounding him, “Climb!”
Dejah pulled herself up the arm and toward daylight. Taylor launched upward and grabbed the bottom of the arm’s jackhammer drill. He pulled himself up then was jerked downward from the extra weight upon his leg. He ignored the pain of claws and teeth driving into his ankle and calf and pulled himself up and further onto the hydraulic arm.
The arm raised up and out of the hole, taking Dejah, Taylor, and the primate attached to him into the sunshine. Taylor pulled his pistol, shoved it point blank against the eye of the beast clinging to his lower leg, and fired. The back of the animal’s head exploded outward, sending shards of skull and brain matter into the cave below.
Taylor looked to the cab of the excavator that had just been used to save his life and to his friend Hunter sitting within and smiled.
61.
Agent Andrew, Agent Carter, and Megan reached the outer gate of Robert Wilson’s ranch after a grueling hour and a half walk. The original plan was for Agent Andrews and Agent Carter to drive Megan to the nearest Border Patrol Check Station for medical assistance and to file a proper report, but the damage Megan inflicted on their government vehicle was too great. This, combined with the fact that the radio in the SUV wasn’t working and that no one’s cell phone had service, prompted Agent Andrews to make the decision to walk to Robert Wilson’s ranch for assistance.
“Wilson’s a good guy,” Agent Andrew’s explained to Megan during the hike. “He’ll be able to help us until we can meet up with the Border Patrol.”
“’Cause y’all are doing such a great job of protecting me so far,” Megan complained.
“Ma’am, it was you that ran into our vehicle,” Agent Carter reminded her. “We’d have driven you to aid quite easily had that not happened.”
“Excuse me for not driving as safe as I could have but I was a little shell-shocked from seeing all my friends ripped apart by an ass-load of deranged monkeys,” Megan shot back.
Agent Andrews and Agent Carter looked to one another in disbelief then back to Megan and said in unison, “Chainsaws.”
Megan stopped in her tracks, sighed in disbelief, and declared, “Those chainsaws were covered in fur and had tails.”
Agent Andrews and Agent Carter looked to Megan in bewilderment and each silently surmised that she had received severe head trauma during her collision, as her description of fur-covered chainsaws made no sense whatsoever.
The three travelers reached the house of Robert Wilson and rang the door. A short, rotund Hispanic woman in a cleaning uniform answered the door.
“Buenos dias,” the lady smiled.
“Buenos dias,” Agent Andrews replied. “We are seeking the assistance of Robert Wilson.”
The lady nodded and waved Agent Andrews, Agent Carter, and Megan into the home and to follow her. The cleaning lady led the three down a heavily appointed hallway to a large trophy room overflowing with taxidermied animals from the world over. Robert Wilson stood from a worn leather couch, placed his lit cigar in an ashtray, and crossed the room to greet his guest.
“Andrews. Carter. Good to see you,” Robert exclaimed, holding out his hand to each. He turned his attention to Megan and her worn look. “My dear, what’s happened to you? Wait. You’re one of the… You’re from that paleontology group, aren’t you?”
“There’s been an accident,” Agent Andrews began.
Robert turned to the cleaning woman. “Juana, some water please.”
Juana nodded and left the room.
Megan’s eyes followed the woman sent to get her a beverage then paused at a mount that sat upon a table-height wooden stand. She pointed at the creature in surprise and fear. She tried to speak but was unable.
Robert saw this and said, “You’ve picked out the one animal in here I didn’t take.”
Megan dropped her hand and wrestled with the emotions overtaking her.
“Is that a…baboon?” Agent Andrews asked.
“How old is that mount?” Agent Carter continued. “It’s all cracked.”
Robert walked to the display to admire the mount. Its fur was dried and yellow from age, the skin worn and cracked, and its eyes looked more like cheap marbles then a representation of actual life. Still, it was one of his favorites.
“My great grandfather shot that here on the ranch back in the 1800s,” Robert proudly explained. “Mexicans called it a mono nocturno. Night ape. Said they live in caves under the river and come out at night to feed.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Agent Andrews admitted.
“I’ve heard tell my great grandfather was quite the jokester,” Robert recalled. “I’ve always suspected this old mount was fabricated to help perpetuate some joke of his. I’ve never had it looked at by professionals or by anybody that could give me a better explanation. I don’t wanna get actual proof that this thing’s not real and that it’s just an old hoax or something.”
“They’re real,” Megan declared. “And there’s more of them.”
62.
Taylor and Hunter didn’t spend time wondering about the construction camp or what the black cloud of buzzards circling above them found so appealing in the trees behind where they stood. They ignored and shielded Dejah’s eyes from the blood-soaked earth they encountered and instead made their way to an old crew cab 4 x 4 truck, smashed the window, and hot-wired it to life
Hunter drove them through ranch scrubland, along paths worn through the vegetation by errant cattle, and along the muddy shores of the Rio Grande until they found an area where the river was shallow and narrow enough to cross. They skirted into Mexico through properties run with goats and pigs and cut their way through barbwire fences until they hit the highway and then to the goat ranch that served as the Acuña Cartel’s base of operations for the construction of the tunnel.
They hit the bunkhouse first where Taylor and Hunter replenished their ammo and downed two beers apiece in record time. They showed Dejah the shower, gave her a change of clothes they took from Ruck’s footlocker, and told the girl to make them work until they could procure others for her.
Taylor and Hunter locked Dejah in the building and made their way to the bar
n where they found the remains of what was once Miguel and Arturo and the hole one of them had apparently bashed through the wall. They entered this and cautiously searched the barn to find only the dead remains of baboons and men eaten to the bone by such. They searched each room to find nothing but death until they came to the door to Eduardo’s office.
Taylor tried the knob and finding it locked banged the door and called inside. When no one answered after the second attempt, Hunter kicked the door open to find it barricaded somehow on the inside. Taylor and Hunter pushed their way in to discover a weak and weary Eduardo hiding in the corner next to a safe. Eduardo stood and rushed to Hunter sobbing, “Thank God! Thank God!”
Hunter pushed Eduardo down to his office chair and explained the situation.
“My team’s dead. All of them.”
Eduardo sobbed into his hands.
“And as for here,” Hunter continued, “you’re it. The only one left.”
“I tried to help,” Eduardo tried to convince himself through the hands at his face. “I mean… I wanted to help… I—”
“You’re going to help us right now if you want to live,” Hunter instructed.
Eduardo’s hands dropped and his head jutted upward.
“Anything,” Eduardo promised. “Anything. Just get me out of here and away from all of this.”
Hunter let his rifle drop to his side and drew his Glock.
“The Cartel’s gonna pay for our pain and suffering. Put two million in each of our accounts,” Hunter insisted. “Now.”
“What?” Eduardo said, seriously taken aback.
Hunter pushed his pistol to Eduardo’s temple. “I’m not a man used to having to explain myself. Two million in each of our accounts. Now.”
“Yes…yes…yes, sir. I’ll do it. No problems,” Eduardo promised. “I’ll… I can even… I’ll even make it to where…where…”
The Tunnel Page 12
