by David Wood
“And, unlike me, they wouldn’t go smashing through walls,” Jessie said.
“Don’t worry about it. You did good.” Bones gave her shoulder a squeeze and led the way down the passage.
They wound down a long, sloping tunnel. Here, the floor was smooth, and no rock formations hindered them. It was almost as if someone had carved the by hand. Bones knew that wasn’t the case. He saw no chisel marks or other signs of the stones being worked, but the change was noticeable, nonetheless.
The passageway finally leveled off. They rounded a turn and stopped short. Before them stood a simple, arched entryway. And beyond it...
Jessie gasped. “Aliens!”
The room put Bones to mind of a hogan—the traditional Navajo home. It was a circular, domed room. A sipapu, the symbolic indentation found at the center of a kiva, was carved in the bedrock at the room’s center. Petroglyphs—familiar images of the so-called “Ant People” covered the walls. But it was none of those features that captivated Bones.
Four alcoves, evenly spaced around the room, were carved into the stone walls. Inside each, upon a stone bier, lay the remains of a bizarre-looking being. Moldering scraps of fabric clung to skeletal remains. Beads once stitched to burial garments lay scattered atop the biers. Each clutched a weapon—a bow, knife, or spear.
Bones moved to inspect the nearest figure. It, like the others, was no more than five feet tall, with fine bone structure. His gaze climbed to the face and locked there in disbelief.
“Holy crap.” The structure was very much that of the stereotypical alien. An oversized cranium gave way to a narrow face. Large, round eye sockets and a tiny mouth completed the bizarre scene. What set this skull apart from other supposed aliens were the four bony appendages extending from the top of the head.
“Ant People,” Krueger breathed. “They were real. They even had antennae.” He reached a trembling hand toward the remains.
“Don’t.” Bone’s seized his wrist an instant before he could touch one of the appendages.
“Sorry. Got carried away.” Krueger took a step back and gazed at the remains with wonder and longing.
The others gathered around, talking excitedly. Amanda took out her camera and began snapping pictures. Jessie did the same with her smartphone, while Padilla, grinning, bemoaned the limits of his primitive flip phone.
While they chatted, Bones circled the room, taking a closer look at each skeleton. Three were so-called “Ant People”, but the fourth was different. She, for the bone structure clearly marked her as female, had a human face. Unlike the others, she was garbed in an odd mesh, like the strands of a spider’s web. And instead of four snakelike appendages, eight spidery legs framed her skull.
A spider woman.
A sinking feeling suddenly lay heavy in Bones’ gut. He made another circuit of the room, giving each skeleton a closer inspection. He drew his knife, placed the tip under the chin of one of the Ant Men, and cautiously lifted it a few centimeters. Just enough to confirm his suspicion.
“Dammit all to hell.” He sheathed his knife and let out a long, slow breath of disappointment.
No one heard his muttered curse. Jessie, beaming, seized his arm and pressed her body against his.
“What do you think this means? Were the Ant People really aliens or were they the source of the alien stories?”
Bones looked down at her smiling face, reluctant to deliver the news. He was spared the task when a loud voice boomed over the din of conversation.
“Everybody freeze or this girl dies!”
Chapter 42
Bones turned to see Matthew standing just inside the doorway. He held Amanda in a chokehold, a revolver pressed to her temple. Even in the uneven light cast by a myriad of headlamps Bones could see determination in the man’s eyes, and a touch of madness.
“If you do anything to her, you die,” Bones said. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Wrong. First I turn her brain to oatmeal and then I back down the tunnel and wait for you to come at me. Lots of choke points for me to choose from. Do you like your odds?”
“I’ve taken out better than you.” That was true, but Bones knew his words rang hollow. He wasn’t going to let Amanda die, much less anyone else from his group, if he could help it.
“Maybe,” Matthew said. “But there’s also Mari to consider.”
Bones didn’t think his stomach could churn any more than it already had, but Matthew’s words put him at the edge of throwing up. “What are you talking about? Where is she?”
Matthew chuckled. “She’s somewhere safe, but if I don’t come back for her she’ll die... slowly. People need food and water, you know? I’ve even got the pics to prove it.”
For an instant, Bones considered drawing his pistol, gunslinger-style, and taking a shot at Matthew, but he dismissed that thought immediately. Even if he was fast enough, only a small fraction of Matthew’s head was exposed. He’d never make that shot. Hell, Maddock probably couldn’t make it, and Maddock was better with a handgun than anyone Bones had ever met... not that Bones would ever admit it, of course.
“So, what’s it going to... don’t do it, old man!” Matthew took a half-step back, dragging Amanda with him, his eyes moving back-and-forth between Bones and Padilla, who had nearly succumbed to the same Old West instinct that had almost overcome Bones. “Everybody on the ground face-down or people start dying.”
Bones couldn’t believe this turn of events. The elation of a few minutes before had dissolved in the bitter libation of defeat.
“Do what he says,” he told the others.
Matthew didn’t lower his guard for an instant. Once everyone lay side-by-side in the center of the room, he instructed Bones and Padilla to slide their weapons over to him, including Bones’ Recon knife and Padilla’s hunting knife. Only then did he shove Amanda roughly to the ground. Now, with a pistol in each hand and a third tucked into his belt, he loomed over them, the corners of his mouth tilted upward in a manic grin.
“I want the book,” he said to Bones.
“I didn’t bring it along,” Bones said.
“Who should I shoot first? Your choice.” Matthew leveled his pistol at Jessie. “I could shoot her in the liver and let you listen to her scream. It wouldn’t bother me, but I imagine a woman in pain brings out the white knight in you.”
“It’s in my pack,” Krueger blurted. “I’ll give it to you. Just don’t shoot.” Carefully, the man removed his drawstring backpack and tossed it to Matthew.
To Bones’ chagrin, Matthew kept his eyes on his captives and his weapon steady, even as he bent to pick up the ancient book.
“You lose,” Matthew said.
“Not really,” Bones said. “It’s useless.”
“What are you talking about?” Suspicion flared in Matthew’s eyes.
“These aren’t aliens. They’re ordinary people with Ant People burial masks.”
“You’re lying.”
Bones shook his head. “This is just some sort of shrine to the Ant People. It’s culturally significant, probably interesting to archaeologists. But there are no aliens here.”
Matthew aimed both barrels at Bones. His knuckles turned white with the pressure he put on the grips, and his arms trembled slightly. “Stop lying.”
“Check for yourself. The masks look realistic, but they’re just masks.”
Keeping one pistol trained on Bones, Matthew sidled over to the closest bier. He looked the skeleton up and down, then holstered the pistol in his right hand, reached out, and lifted the burial mask.
“No,” he whispered.
“Told you.” Despite his disappointment at not finding aliens, Bones derived a measure of satisfaction at Matthew’s own frustration. The man moved to another body, removed the mask, and shouted a curse.
“This must be your first treasure hunt,” Bones said. “I could have told you, I’ve chased a lot of rainbows in my life, and there’s almost never a pot of gold at the end.”
Matthew now quaked w
ith rage. He rushed to the third Ant Person and raised the mask. He let out a scream of pure rage, whirled, and flung the mask across the room.
That was when Bones made his move. He sprang to his feet, snatched the spear from the grip of the closest skeleton, and hurled it at Matthew, who realized an instant too late what was happening. The spear sliced across his forearm just as he squeezed the trigger of his pistol.
The boom reverberated through the chamber and Bones felt the bullet take a chunk out of his shoulder as he plowed into Matthew. They hit the floor with Bones on top. Holding Matthew’s gun hand in place, he rained punches down as Matthew twisted and struggled to buck the big man off of him. Hot rage boiled inside Bones and, for a moment, he considered choking the life out of their would-be captor, but something stayed his hand.
“Where’s Mari?” he demanded.
Matthew, his face slick with blood, snarled and spat at Bones. Bones raised his fist to deliver a blow, but he froze as a new voice rang out.
“That’s quite enough. Get off of him and I won’t shoot any of you.”
Chapter 43
Sheriff Jameson and another man, whom Bones didn’t recognize, stood just inside the chamber. Each held an automatic pistol—one trained on Bones, the other on Padilla, who was just reaching to pick up the revolver that had fallen from Matthew’s grasp.
“Step back and sit down,” Jameson said.
Bones and Padilla complied immediately. When they’d moved to the center of the room and dropped to the floor, Matthew lurched to his feet, collected his pistol, and turned burning eyes on Bones.
“You’ve made your last mistake,” he said.
Bones ignored him, instead directing his attention to Jameson and the other newcomer.
“I know you,” he said to Jameson. “And I assume your friend here is from ICE.”
The man nodded but didn’t reply.
“Gilmour is ICE?” Matthew addressed the question to his father, who didn’t reply.
“And those idiots who tried to follow us,” Bones continued. “Are they yours, too?”
The corners of Gilmour’s mouth twitched. “I don’t claim them as mine, but they’re part of our organization. Are they dead?”
“Not worth killing. Let us go and I’ll tell you where you can find them.”
Gilmour laughed. “Not a chance. In fact, I almost wish you had killed them. They’re a pain in my ass.”
A brief silence fell, which Amanda finally broke. “If you’re looking for aliens, you’re wasting your time. There’s nothing here but some Indians with Ant People masks.”
“You’ve got it wrong. ICE doesn’t want to find aliens. At least, not in the way you probably think. We protect humankind from them.”
“Doesn’t ICE stand for Initiative for Communications with Extraterrestrials?” Krueger asked.
“Not quite. It’s the ‘Initiative for Control of Extraterrestrials.’
“But Dulce...” Padilla began.
Gilmour raised his hand. “Dulce was a failed attempt to work with the aliens instead of against them. We’d been fighting these things, mostly underground, for decades. We learned to communicate with them, even managed to make some progress on the scientific front, but it eventually went south.”
“Let me guess,” Bones said, “you wanted to chop them up and see what’s inside, and they didn’t like that.”
“We’re well past the slicing and dicing stage of research. Now we’re doing DNA analysis and the like. Problem was, the bottom-dwellers, as we call them, found out about it. They didn’t mind, but they decided they’d give a few of our guys the same treatment. They didn’t wait for us to obtain cadavers. It went downhill from there. Now we’re all about neutralizing threats, sealing off entrances to their world.”
“Why don’t they just blast their way out?” Krueger asked, his curiosity clearly overwhelming the perils of the situation.
“They could, I suppose, but they have to know it would get ugly if they did. They’ve been doing the live and let live thing for a while now, so we’re sealing up entrances and erasing evidence. The last thing we need is for nosy conspiracy theorists,” the man quirked an eyebrow at Krueger, “to find their way to the below world and cause an incident.”
“Did you build the door at Halcón Rock?” Krueger asked.
Gilmour shook his head. “From the looks of it, that thing had been there for centuries, maybe more. In any case, no one will find it again. There was a major collapse of the passageways leading down to it.”
Matthew rounded on his father, fists clenched. “Dad!” The word came out like a schoolboy refusing to eat his broccoli.
“Shut up, boy,” Jameson said. “It’s over and done with. You could have caused an incident, you know?”
“I’m still going to write my book,” Matthew mumbled. “I’ve worked too hard just to let it drop. Besides, most people won’t believe me, but a few will.”
“We’ll discuss that after we’ve taken care of business. We need to blow this place, just to be safe.” Jameson took Matthew by the arm and steered him toward the passageway leading out.
“We’d better do the Indian first,” Gilmour said. “He looks like he just might try something.”
Bones tensed to spring at the man. He probably had no chance to save himself or the others, but he would try.
“No!” Matthew shouted.
Bones couldn’t believe it. Matthew was taking their side? That thought was dashed with Matthew’s next words.
“I want him to suffer. Let them stay down here until they suffocate, or starve to death, whichever comes first.”
“That’s cold,” Gilmour said, “but it’s fine by me.” He raised his voice. “We’re going to back out now. Anybody tries anything, he gets gut shot, and I promise you I don’t miss.”
“Just let us go,” Jessie pleaded. “We didn’t find anything down here.”
“But he told us about ICE,” Bones said. “Once he did that, he couldn’t let us live.”
“Smarter than you look.” Gilmour flashed a wry smile, and he and Jameson backed out of the cavern, weapons at the ready, leaving Bones and the others alone to their fate.
When the men had disappeared into the darkness, Padilla turned to Bones. “Tell me you’ve got a plan.”
Bones nodded. “Absolutely I do.”
Chapter 44
“Can I trust you to stand guard?” Jameson said to Matthew as they rounded a sharp bend in the passageway. “Gilmour and I need to set the explosive charges and we don’t need interference from the Indian.”
Matthew glared back at him, blood oozing from his nose and a cut on his forehead, painting his battered face scarlet. “Not a problem.” He turned, a pistol in each hand, and fixed his eyes in the direction of the tunnel. He stood, feet wide apart, guns pointed forward like a video game character.
Jameson shook his head, wondering again how he’d failed so badly as a parent. Matthew’s posturing at least made what Jameson had to do a little more palatable.
He pushed those thoughts from his mind as they chose the perfect spots to set the plastic explosives Gilmour had brought along for just this purpose.
When the detonators were placed, and all was ready, Gilmour gave him a long look. “It’s time. Do you need me to do it?”
“He’s my screw-up. I’ll take care of it.”
His stomach doing somersaults, Jameson strode back to where Matthew stood guard. He’d tucked his pistols into his belt and now stood, elbows akimbo, like a gunslinger ready to draw. Jameson vowed to slap him if he dared declare himself anyone’s “huckleberry”.
Matthew glanced over his shoulder. “No sign of them. Bunch of cowards.”
“You’re armed; they’re not. They wouldn’t stand a chance coming down this narrow tunnel.” Privately, Jameson wondered if Bonebrake could, in fact, find a way. The man was highly competent and supremely self-assured. It was a touch surprising he hadn’t made a bid for freedom. No matter now. It was almost ov
er.
“Damn right they wouldn’t stand a chance,” Matthew said. “That Indian jumped me from behind. He could never take me one-on-one.” He didn’t meet Jameson’s eye as he made his declaration.
“Hopefully, we won’t have to find out.” Jameson hesitated for a split-second, but Matthew didn’t notice. It’s the right thing to do. Slowly, so as not to draw Matthew’s notice, he drew his pistol and raised it like a club. At least he won’t know what’s about to happen.
He gritted his teeth and struck. Matthew went down in a heap.
“I’m sorry, boy. You brought it on yourself.” Holstering his pistol, Jameson turned, rounded the corner, and made his way back to Gilmour.
The ICE agent was waiting, arms folded, an expectant look on his face.
“It’s done,” Jameson said. “Let’s blow this place and get out of here.”
“So, what’s this brilliant plan of yours?” Amanda didn’t look at Bones. Instead, she glowered at the passageway where Matthew, his father, and Gilmour disappeared. Tension trembled through her body. She looked ready to chase after the man who’d held her captive minutes before.
“We were so excited to find this chamber that we forgot one more clue.”
The others frowned, but Jessie’s face brightened almost immediately.
“The spider’s web.”
“Most of these bodies represent Ant People, but not this one.” Bones indicated the body with eight legs protruding from the head. “This is Grandmother Spider.”
Only Krueger appeared to know what he was talking about. The man smiled and nodded eagerly.
“Depending on the mythology, Grandmother Spider, Spider Grandmother, or Spider Woman, either serves the gods or is a deity herself. To some, she’s the Earth Mother. To others, she’s an intercessory between humankind and the creator.”
Padilla pounded his fist into his palm. “I remember now! According to the Hopi, she opened the path into the fourth world—our world.”
“She caused a hollow reed to grow to the sky, and it emerged as a sipapu in the fourth world,” Krueger added. “The people climbed through it into our world.”
