Zero Point

by Tim Fairchild

  Alone in the dark, his tormented mind went on a tirade. The world is stagnating under the yoke of religion. The Christians try to deny us the free pursuit of science, of free thought, and of self-gratification by trying to force its antiquated, moral edicts on society. Radical Islamic extremists are killing innocent people all over the world in the name of God.

  “It’s madness!” he shouted aloud in the darkness of his vehicle. His rationalization was fueled by his personal demons, and he longed for the day when religion would be replaced by a new order. An order founded on the principals of acquired reason and free thought, and I intend to be a catalyst in its creation. “You’re going to lose this one, God,” he said arrogantly as he gazed out the windshield into the overcast night.

  His grandiose thoughts were halted by the sight of the dark SUV returning from the direction of the archeology site. Burr sat upright, watching the vehicle as it slowed and made a turn off the main access road. It then started up a narrow road in the direction of the caldera’s summit and, moments later, disappeared over a ridge.

  The answer must lie with those people, he thought. They might be able to solve my problem for me, but what were they doing at the dig site? Did they find anything?

  As he sat there in the darkness, he knew he would have to follow the SUV and see where they were going. First, he decided to make a quick visit to Turner at the archeology site.

  “You're gonna lose, God,” he chuckled in twisted amusement as he gently stroked the gun barrel. “You're gonna lose.”

  ***

  In the dim light of the collapsed lava tube, all eyes were fixed on the flickering flame of the lantern as it danced about, fueled by a gentle breeze cascading through the chamber.

  “Josh is right,” Captain Saune said, walking over to the gear pack he and Private Gonzales brought in earlier that evening. “The lava tube must connect to other branches farther inside the volcano.”

  “Shouldn't we wait and see if help comes first?” Samuel asked.

  “I don’t intend to just wait here and have this place fall in on us,” Turner stated, picking up the dead Yakuza’s AK-47 and tossing it to Private Gonzales.

  “That goes for me, too,” Eli said, rising up from the floor and getting his backpack. “We have to do something other than just sit here and wait.”

  “I’ve been hiking the lava tubes on Tenerife for years,” Maria said. “They could meander for miles, leading to dead ends, but there also may be a skylight: an opening to the surface formed when a portion of a lava tube's ceiling collapses. If we can find one, there might be a breakdown pile caused by the collapse of magma that we can use to climb out.”

  “What do we have in the way of supplies?” Turner asked as he emptied the contents of the dead Yakuza leader’s satchel, containing only duct tape, wire, and a blood-stained knife used on the unsuspecting guards outside the cave.

  “Two D-112MG night vision goggles with head gear, two full canteens, and one old AK-47. Unfortunately, we were relieved of our weapons when we were captured earlier outside the cave,” Saune said.

  “I have two old AN/PVS night vision scopes with head gear,” Maria responded, “plus canteens and the flashlights we came in with. We can use the lanterns to make the hike. We’ll need as much light as possible to avoid the deep drop offs where lava has up-welled from lower levels.”

  “I have two peanut butter sandwiches,” Eli said as he gently rolled up the parchments, and then placed them back in his backpack.

  “Hey, I’m hungry!” Samuel said from across the chamber. “At least Eli packed sensibly,” he added, throwing Maria a wink when he saw her looking at him incredulously.

  “Only you would think of food at a time like this,” Eli said jokingly, as he tossed one of the sandwiches to Samuel. The rest of the group began gathering their gear.

  Saune and Gonzales strapped on their night vision gear and flipped the scopes up to their resting position on top of the headgear. They checked their flashlights as Maria put on her night vision gear and handed the other to Josh.

  “I didn’t know that you were an experienced cave hiker,” Turner said, standing close to her. He stared longingly into her warm blue eyes, which now showed the strain of the night’s deadly encounter.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Mr. Turner,” she replied with a coy smile. “I’m full of surprises.”

  Turner paused, frozen in the moment. He inhaled her perfumed scent as she lingered close to him, not wanting the moment to end. He vowed to himself that he would stop at nothing to get her and the others to safety.

  “When we get out of here,” he said softly, taking her hand, “I know a nice little restaurant in Santa Cruz where the view of the bay is quite romantic and they have a great soloist. What do you say?”

  “It’s a date,” she said, smiling a smile that would steal the heart of any man. She then quickly leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. Turning, she confidently adjusted her backpack and started climbing through the small opening to the lava tube as Turner watched her shapely figure vanish into the gloom. He glanced at the others around him, smiled at their quizzical looks, then he and the rest of the unlikely entourage followed her into the darkness.

  They walked through the ancient lava tube at a good pace, ever mindful of their footing, with Maria leading the way. Even after their harrowing experience and brush with death earlier, they all marveled at the awesome display of nature before them.

  The channel they traversed was a myriad of twisting turns and inclines leading upward to the heart of the dormant volcano. The tube was a naturally occurring conduit; once a pathway for the flow of two thousand degree magma that hardened as it traveled beneath the cooler surface. They were in one of the main tubes that branched into the many smaller vents as the ancient lava slowed and drained out away from the erupting volcano.

  As they walked onward in the dancing yellow glow of the lantern, Maria explained the lava marks on the cave wall that showed the height of the once rushing molten river of rock.

  “Look at that,” Eli marveled from behind, as he pointed to the sharp-edged columns suspended like ghostly fingers from the cave ceiling.

  “They’re basalt stalactites, Dr. Turner,” Maria said. “They formed because the lava dripped from the ceiling as the vent slowly cooled. Some even bear a close resemblance to sharks’ teeth.”

  “What is that reflecting off the stalactite? Did we hit the mother lode of gold?” Samuel asked with a chuckle as he walked up beside her.

  “I’m sorry to burst your bubble, Samuel,” Maria replied. “It’s only the reflection of a deposit of calcite crystals. These caves are loaded with calcite and gypsum. Some lava tubes at other places in the world are known to go as far as twenty miles.”

  “I hope that’s not the case here,” Turner said.

  “I knew you were getting soft, Josh,” Samuel said in mock disdain. “Too many burgers when you were in the states, huh?”

  “We have to watch for break-outs in the floor that lead to lower chambers,” Maria interrupted. “If one of us were to fall in, there would be no way to get out without the proper climbing gear.”

  “How are you doing, Dad?” Turner asked his father, worried about the effects of the blow to the head he received earlier.

  “Ah, I’m okay, Son. I’m a tough old bird, but I promise you that when we get out of here, I’m gonna pay a visit to those bastards that tried to kill us,” he said in an angry tone.

  “Not so fast, Dr. Turner,” Captain Saune said from behind the two men. “We don’t know who we’re dealing with, and I would strongly suggest that we obtain the manpower to launch a proper raid on that Bishamon complex.”

  “I agree with the captain, Dad. We need to go to the authorities first. Do you have any idea why they attacked you?” he asked, as the group continued going around a gaping chasm in the floor that dropped into the deep recesses beneath them.

  “My guess is a drug smuggling operation,” Sam
uel said, jumping into the conversation, “but it just doesn't make any sense as to why they would risk exposing their operation like this.”

  “Hey, we all know that crooks aren’t the brightest people in the gene pool,” Turner offered. “And hopefully, as far as they suspect, we’re all dead. I’m hoping the guy we sent nighty-night outside of the cave woke up and reported the cave-in to his superiors.”

  “I can have a tactical unit ready in a moment’s notice,” Captain Saune said. “The warrants though, could become a diplomatic problem since this is a foreign interest. We—”

  “Shush,” Maria said from the lead position. “Everyone stop. Put out the lantern Private Gonzales.”

  Gonzales quickly extinguished the lantern, thrusting the group into total blackness. Samuel switched on the flashlight, keeping the beam aimed at the floor, which cast a dull light sufficient to see within a few yards.

  Turner, Maria, Captain Saune and the private quickly flipped down and powered up their night vision goggles, casting their world into an eerie green glow.

  “What’s the matter, Maria?” Turner whispered. He walked up to her in the lead as she crouched, her eyes and ears intent on something ahead of them in the darkness.

  “I could have sworn I heard footsteps coming from that way, Josh,” she said, pointing to a branch in the lava tube ahead of them that split into two directions. “It sounded like it came from the left branch.”

  “Are you sure it wasn't the echo of our footsteps?” Turner asked.

  His question was answered by the sound of gunfire up ahead, echoing throughout the cavern as he, and the rest of the group, instinctively crouched low against the lava tube’s wall.

  “That definitely came from the left branch,” Turner said in a whisper to Maria, who had taken his arm and now held it tightly. “Quick, Maria, head back to Samuel and give him your night vision gear,” he whispered.

  “Hey,” she retorted defensively. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know you can, Maria, but Samuel is armed and we’ll need him to have the night vision gear,” he responded, gently brushing her cheek with his fingers. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I couldn’t live with that, alright?”

  “Okay,” she replied in agreement, “but only because I’m not that good with guns anyway.”

  She turned to go back as Saune and Gonzales reached the lead where Turner, now crouched low, was looking ahead.

  “Captain, please have Private Gonzales take Maria and my father into the right branch of the tunnel divide and find them some cover.”

  “Do it,” Captain Saune ordered to his man, sending him back as Samuel appeared out of the darkness wearing the night vision gear given to him by Maria.

  “What’s the story, guys?” Samuel asked, adjusting the headgear on his goggles and then pulling the 45 from his waistband.

  “Sounds like more of our friends from Bishamon are headed this way,” Turner answered.

  “Do you think they heard us coming?” Samuel asked.

  “I don’t think they were close enough,” Captain Saune replied and then added, “but from the original report of gun fire, I’d say they were a good distance away. Don’t ask me what they were shooting at.”

  “See that lava pool off to the left?” Turner said, pointing to an almost perfectly rounded three-foot depression in the ground that he had seen before they first heard the shots. “We can use that for cover. Let’s go,” The three men sprinted across the thirty-meter wide cavern. One by one, they dropped into the lava pool using the high side of the ancient depression as cover. Saune swung the AK-47 to the ready as Turner and Samuel brought their 45-automatics to bear on the darkened tunnel ahead. Turner could see Gonzales in his night vision goggles leading Maria and Eli into the right branch of the lava tube and, thankfully, out of danger.

  After a few minutes, they all heard the distinct sound of footsteps growing ominously louder and coming directly towards them. Then, just as quickly, they saw a dim beam of light as it came around a bend no more than fifteen feet from the three men in the cover of the lava pool.

  To Turner, the figure coming at them wearing a lab coat hardly looked like a mercenary. He could see that he was unarmed and saw the blood stain on his jacket. The halogen light he held was dying quickly as the man slowed his approach.

  Breathing heavy from fatigue after his long flight down the lava tube, Yashiro Fuiruchirudo failed to notice the three figures watching him from the recess of the lava pool. Exhausted beyond all reason, he slowed, turned around, and began walking backward. He listened for the sound of his pursuers, who had relentlessly followed him from the access tunnel at the base of the facility.

  He could still hear the men coming for him, their footfalls echoing in the cavern as they drew ever closer. His fatigue now outweighed his fear, as he had been on the run for over two hours. He stopped from time to time only to catch his breath and to listen for his pursuers. He knew that they were toying with him, like a cat toying with a mouse; playing with it until it was time for the lethal bite. He could hear their laughter as they relentlessly followed him down through the lava tube.

  Yashiro agonizingly realized that his time was almost up. He was exhausted and his halogen light was now going dead. In complete despair he would now wait here in the darkness; wait for the final shot that would put him out of his misery.

  Yashiro missed his wife and child, and longed to be able to say goodbye.

  He let out a muffled scream as a hand suddenly cupped his mouth and he found himself being brutally dragged into a pit. As Yashiro fell, he let go of his light. It hit the floor and shattered its lens, turning his world into one of total darkness. Yashiro felt the cold steel of a gun barrel being pressed against his head. A voice said, “Give me a real good reason as to why I shouldn’t blow your head off, amigo.”

  “Please!” Yashiro pleaded in a hoarse voice. “Please help me. They are going to kill me.”

  “Who’s going to kill you?” Turner asked in a whisper.

  “The guards from Bishamon,” Yashiro said weakly. “They’re trying to keep me from escaping and warning the authorities,” he said in near panic.

  “Here they come,” Captain Saune said in a whisper as he brought his AK-47 to bear over the lip of the ledge. “Get ready.”

  “If you want to live, keep your head down and don’t try anything cute. Understand?” Turner said to Yashiro, who for the first time tonight felt a glimmer of hope as he scrambled behind the men in the darkness. He laid flat on the ground with his hands over his head.

  The four Bishamon guards rounded the turn in the lava tube, knowing that they were near their prey and closing in for the kill. The leader told the others that he wanted the first shot to wound him, but after that they could indulge themselves. The four wore night vision goggles and carried a light as they walked through the tunnel nonchalantly, like hikers on a holiday. They never expected to encounter a trio of armed men, and were caught off guard when they heard a loud voice.

  “Drop the weapons now!” Turner yelled, pointing his 45 at the man on the far right.

  The lead guard spotted the three in their protected position in the lava pool, but made the fatal mistake of raising his AK-47. He was instantly cut down by a blazing onslaught from Captain Saune’s weapon. The other guards foolishly followed his lead and met the same fate in a hail of bullets from the trio in their ancient bunker. The Yakuza soldiers fell dead on the floor in a spreading pool of blood.

  “That’s for my men you butchered,” Saune hissed, as the haze and burning odor of spent weapons permeated the cavern.

  “Is everyone okay?” Samuel asked, rising up from the floor and cautiously walking over to the Bishamon guards.

  “We’re fine, Samuel,” Turner responded. He then yelled, “Alright Dad, the coast is clear. You’re safe to come out.”

  “Those guys are all dead, Josh,” said Samuel, returning from the scene of the carnage just played out.

  “They would gladly
die before ever giving up,” said a relieved Yashiro, who now slowly stood up off the ground.

  “Who were they, and why were they after you?” Turner asked, retrieving the lantern and lighting the wick with a match. Once again the chamber was cast with a ghostly yellow light. Switching off the night vision, he flipped up the unit into the stow position and looked at the young, disheveled Japanese man sitting in front of him. Private Gonzales and his charges walked over to the group and knelt down in the soft yellow light as Yashiro started to speak.

  “They were Yakuza soldiers; members of the Yagato Osama clan, and are sworn to do his bidding even unto their own death.”

  “Isn’t the Yakuza the Japanese equivalent of our Mafia?” Eli asked the fatigued scientist.

  “Yes, but our version is rumored to have been around since the seventeenth century in Japan. It was originally known as the Hatamoto-yakko, or Machi-yokko, which means servants of the town. Those men you killed are part of Osama’s Gurentai: his gang,” Yashiro replied, flinching as Maria touched his wounded arm.

  “You’ve been wounded,” she said reaching for the canteen in the backpack.

  “Just a slight graze from a bullet,” he replied. “It’s not serious.”

  “Let’s clean it up to be sure,” she said as she helped the shaken scientist remove his lab coat. Maria began cleaning the wound as Yashiro took a grateful drink of water from the canteen.

  “Alright, friend, who are you and what were you talking about when you said you had to warn the authorities?” Turner asked as he squatted down next to him on the cold rock floor of the cave.

  “My name is Yashiro Fuiruchirudo,” he said in broken English, “and I am a geo-physicist from Kobe, Japan. I was hired originally to work on a new energy source by Bishamon Corporation, a Japanese company set up and funded by an American named Robert Pencor.”

  “Pencor? I remember him,” Eli said. “Wasn’t he under indictment by a Federal Grand Jury back in the middle of the last decade? Not a very nice man from what I’ve read. I heard that he fled the country.”