Deep Fire Rising m-6

by Jack Du Brul

  The hammer’s steel head caught Donny on the up-raised wrist. The remainder of the bones in his lower arm disintegrated. The force was enough to shred the tendons and skin that had been keeping the hand attached to his wrist. The member flew free. Blood fountained from the stump.

  “That’s for…” Mercer paused, unable to remember the name of the miner Randall had killed when he flooded the DS-Two mine. “Damn it, that’s for being a fucking prick.”

  Randall couldn’t defend himself so Mercer’s next swing carried every ounce of strength left in him. He hit Randall in the chest hard enough to detach his sternum. Donny staggered but didn’t fall.

  He lurched around in a circle holding his arm aloft while turning blue because he couldn’t draw breath. He finally slipped on the blood drooling across the surface of the oracle. He landed on his side and began to slide down the sphere. That’s when he became aware of what was happening and tried to save himself from falling off the golden globe. He twisted and kicked out with one leg, arresting his plummet by catching the lip of an access panel.

  When he tried to stand, his foot slid into the mechanism.

  Mercer was five feet above Donny’s position so he couldn’t see what was happening inside the machine. But suddenly Randall’s blank stare turned into fear and then panic. Donny tried to jerk his leg free of the hole and fell backward, sliding farther down the globe until Mercer felt as much as heard his knee joint pop. Inside the clockwork oracle, Randall’s foot had caught between a large pinion gear and a saw-motion rack of metal teeth. Each quick ratchet of the gear drew his foot deeper into the machine.

  Somehow Randall struggled upright again. His screams drowned out all other sounds, echoing off the cavern, rebounding again and again in a chorus of unbearable agony. Mercer didn’t enjoy watching what was unfolding, but he wouldn’t look away. He kept his eyes locked on Donny Randall’s as the oracle’s remorseless mechanisms chewed his leg and pulled him deeper inside.

  When his leg was half gone, Randall could no longer remain upright. He toppled into the hole and became tangled in more of the machinery. His cries lasted a few seconds more as he was literally eaten alive, his limbs plucked from his body before his torso was consumed. Somewhere deep inside the bowels of the oracle, his severed head dropped free, only to get stuck between a pair of gears and crushed.

  “Bet you didn’t predict that,” Mercer said as he clambered along the oracle to find a way off its crown.

  The huge machine shuddered just as he found a ladder that could be pulled down from the overhead scaffold. A steady vibration built from inside the oracle, as though a flywheel had become unbalanced and was fighting against its bearings. Something tore loose with a metallic squeal. A jet of mercury shot from a nameless volcano on Russia’s Kamchatka Peninsula.

  “Mercer?” Tisa shouted from far below, her voice nearly lost in the din of the damaged machine. “What’s happening?”

  Unbalanced by Randall’s body falling through its gears, the machine tore itself apart. A piston exploded from the side of the oracle, poking a huge hole in its skin and scattering hundreds of intricate parts. Mercer pulled the ladder down and stepped off the oracle just as a huge gear rammed through the top of the machine, spitting a shower of brass and gold shrapnel.

  Forced onward by geothermal pressure, the mechanism continued to grind upon itself, the intricacy of its design causing its downfall. Each component of the oracle was directly connected to every other, so when one was wrecked the damage spread geometrically. The plate containing the entire continent of Africa sheered from its mounts and dropped to the cavern floor.

  Swaying on the scaffold, Mercer realized that Tisa was directly below the oracle. The structure was threatening to collapse. He raced around the platform, dodging sparking power cables and charging through a fire that had caught along one section. He reached the spiral stairs and threw himself down, unconcerned how the tower wobbled. He was doused by liquid mercury gushing from the Hawaiian Islands. Doubtlessly some of the carcinogenic fluid seeped into his bloody wounds.

  Fifteen feet from the ground he heard voices over the noise and vibration. He hadn’t considered that other members of the Order would be around. He had no weapon other than surprise, and once that wore off he was no more capable of defending himself than Harry’s toothless basset hound.

  “Snow, you here?” The voice was in Mercer’s head, a fantasy that Sykes had found him. “Snow, come in.”

  Not in his head. In his ear. The tactical radio. “Doc, is that you? It’s Snow. Where are you?”

  “I’m in a cave with a big gold globe that looks like it’s about to fall apart.”

  Mercer sagged. The people he’d heard below weren’t more fanatic monks. Sykes and his Delta commandos had found him. He reached the ground floor. Above him, the surfaces of the oracle were a blur as the mechanisms inside destroyed themselves. Sykes stood a short distance off, covering Grumpy and Happy as they untied Tisa.

  Mercer rushed past the two men and was nearly bowled over when Tisa threw herself into him. Their tears mingled as their lips sought each other out. Tisa was drawn and exhausted, her eyes washed out by her captivity. She hadn’t been allowed to bathe in days and her hair felt as brittle as straw. Mercer simply didn’t care. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

  “I knew you’d come for me,” she said. “I don’t know how, but I knew you’d come.”

  “You never gave me your phone number. How else was I going to get in touch with you to ask for a second date?”

  “Mercer,” Sykes interrupted. “We’ve gotta go.”

  He couldn’t let go of Tisa completely, so as he pulled away he held one of her hands. “What’s the situation?”

  “Serious unless Miss Nguyen knows a way out of here. We chased the last of the defenders into a bunch of dead-end tunnels. We got them, but there ain’t no way out except the way we came in.”

  “And that’s blocked by the burning monastery.”

  “How about it, ma’am?”

  “There is a way. I used it once when I snuck into the oracle chamber when Luc and I were children. But first I have to go back for the Lama.”

  “Was that the old man in the room with the secret entrance here?” Mercer asked.

  “Yes.” Her tears changed from joy to sorrow. “I must save him.”

  Mercer looked to Sykes and nodded. The commando leader wasn’t going to argue.

  The three surviving Delta soldiers led them back to the bedroom. Mercer wanted to stay at Tisa’s side but something he’d noticed forced him to pull Sykes back from the party as they moved up the tunnel.

  “None of you are wearing your packs. What happened?”

  “Noticed that, did you?” Sykes jammed a plug of tobacco into his cheek.

  “You lost all the satellite phones.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yep. Grump’s was shot to pieces and Hap’s was smashed when he took a fall and mine’s upstairs with yours. I’m guessing both are nothing but melted plastic by now.”

  “What about the others?”

  “Blown to shit along with my men. Sons a bitches claymored us.”

  “I’m sorry,” was all Mercer could reply. Without those phones there was no way to get Tisa’s information to Admiral Lasko.

  They reached the curtain covering the secret bedroom entrance. Tisa was the first one through. She rushed immediately to the bed. The Lama didn’t move. He remained flat on the bed, his lower body covered with a sheet, gaining him a measure of dignity in death he’d been denied in life.

  Tisa knelt at his side, holding one of his birdlike hands in hers. Her face was hidden by her hair, but by the way her body convulsed, her sobs were apparent. Mercer knelt next to her, waiting for her to say what she needed.

  “He was so good.” Her voice cracked. “He didn’t believe in violence and had he known the magnitude of what’s going to happen I know he would have wanted us to tell the world. People die every day. It is what makes us human. He d
idn’t think it was our place to warn others about what we know. But he would have changed his mind about La Palma. He would have warned you.”

  “He was the Order’s spiritual leader?”

  “And more.” Tears streaked down her cheeks. “He was my father.” Her tone turned bitter. “It was Luc who ruined everything. He wanted the Order to be an authority in the world, a nation with automatic superpower because of what we knew.”

  She looked at Mercer. “I am so sorry I involved you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you can’t make a difference. You can’t stop what’s going to happen. Luc has won because the earth can’t be changed.”

  “That’s not true. The future isn’t set by the oracle, Tisa. It’s created by people like you and me, people who believe they can change things for the better. Tell me — how much time do we have? When is La Palma going to erupt?”

  Mercer needed a year. With a year he had an idea how to stabilize the western flank of the Cumbre Veija volcano and prevent the catastrophic slide. In the moments Tisa took to answer him he cut the estimate in half.

  Give him just six months and he could do it. It would be close, some material would crash into the sea, but not enough to devastate the Atlantic basin. With six months to work he could save the millions who lived along shorelines of America and Europe, although the property damage would likely run into the billions of dollars.

  Grant me six months, please, he thought as Tisa proudly gave her answer. “Five weeks.”

  Mercer went numb. Five weeks? It wasn’t possible. Tisa couldn’t have cut it so close. She’d said all along that she wanted to warn him with plenty of time. Five weeks was as useless as five minutes. The volcano could erupt in five seconds for all the good he could do with the time she’d given him.

  Still on his knees next to the bed, he deflated and fell into Tisa. The greatest calamity in human history was about to unfold and he no longer had the strength to care. His blank stare turned Tisa’s self-satisfaction into dismay, then fear. She grabbed for his hand. “That’s enough time, isn’t it? You can evacuate the islands and warn people living along the coasts.”

  Mercer raked his fingers through his hair. His skin prickled and he felt like he was going to vomit. He swallowed a mouthful of watery saliva. He looked into Tisa’s eyes. Below her alarm he could see vestiges of her pride that she’d defied the Order to give the world a warning. She’d never thought beyond the warning, what was involved once people knew La Palma was about to erupt. The Order had cast a dismal shadow over her entire life and she’d thought she’d escaped it by divulging her secrets to him. She’d freed herself and now he had to put her in a prison of guilt from which there would be no liberation.

  Even before he spoke, she could sense it. Her entire body began to tremble. Mercer would have given anything, his own life even, to spare her from learning her warning did no good.

  “When the volcano erupts, one side of it is going to crash into the ocean. The waves it creates are going to wash across the Atlantic, destroying most of southern Europe and America’s east coast. Those areas are home to a hundred million people. They can’t be evacuated because there’s no place to put them. And even if they did move away from the shores in time, there would be nothing left for them to return to. They would be permanent refugees. There’s no way to feed and house them. Rather than all of them being killed in one catastrophe, they’d die over time, slowly succumbing to disease, starvation, and the breakdown of social order.

  Tisa had begun to hyperventilate. He stroked her head. “You only learned about the eruption a few months ago, right?” She nodded and tried to speak but gave only a low keen. “Even that isn’t enough time. It would take at least a year for any workable plan to take shape. A couple of extra weeks wouldn’t have made the slightest difference. You can’t blame yourself for something you weren’t aware of. Although I know you will. You’re a lot like me.”

  Sykes had given Mercer and Tisa a few minutes alone at the side of the bed. He cleared his throat to get their attention. “I’m sorry to do this, Miss Nguyen, but we have to get out of here. We still have to find a way to pass your information to the admiral.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said flatly.

  “Excuse me?”

  Mercer got to his feet and crossed to where Sykes and his men waited by the secret exit. “We only have five weeks before La Palma blows.”

  “What? Jesus! It’s going to take two just to trek out of the valley.”

  “I know.”

  Sykes thought about that for a minute. “My orders were to get that information to Lasko. It makes me no never mind if the answer’s five weeks or ten minutes.” He yanked the Velcro flap off his watch to check the time. “It’s oh four hundred. Once we get to the surface, we can rest up until noon and then start for Nepal. I’ve got a feeling the secret’s out about this place and pretty soon the Chinese army will come swarming.”

  Mercer nodded. “No matter how bad a mass evacuation is going to be, it’s the best we can do. We need to give Ira every extra second we can. We might want to consider splitting up. I’m in no shape for a trek over the Himalayas. The wound in my back isn’t as bad as it feels but it is going to slow me down.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Booker, every extra minute you give Admiral Lasko means an additional thousand lives saved. I’m going to hold you up.”

  Sykes said nothing but it was clear he knew Mercer was right. His men, though exhausted by the firefight, were in peak physical condition. They could do the trek out of China in half the time if they didn’t need to worry about Mercer. “What about you two?”

  “I think Tisa should go with you. Maybe I can convince her. I’d follow you as soon as I was ready.”

  “And if the Chinese show up before then?”

  “It’s a risk I have to take.”

  Sykes laughed. “I still haven’t figured out if you’re brave or an idiot.”

  “Sometimes there isn’t much of a difference.”

  “Hoo-yah.”

  Mercer returned to Tisa’s side, dropping to his knees next to her. His back had stiffened and the movement opened the scab. Warm blood trickled into the waistband of his fatigues. “Captain Sykes and his men are going to run for the border. They can make it a lot quicker without me. I want you to go with them. You know these mountains. They need you as a guide.”

  She sniffed. “I’m not leaving you. I can talk to some of the villagers. A couple of them can get Sykes to Nepal. You and I will go together when you’re strong enough.”

  “Tisa, I-”

  “This is an argument you aren’t going to win, so don’t bother fighting it. I’m staying with you.”

  “There’s a good chance the Chinese are going to find Rinpoche-La. The fire could have been spotted by a helicopter patrol.”

  “Mercer, you forget I grew up here. I know where all the hiding places are. I can keep you safe if they come.”

  Just like Sykes knew Mercer was right about leaving him behind, Mercer knew Tisa was correct now. “You’re pretty remarkable, you know that?”

  She touched his face. “So are you. Would you ask Captain Sykes if one of his men could carry my father. I want to see he gets a proper burial.”

  Mercer was about to volunteer for the duty himself, but he was in no condition even if her father weighed no more than ninety pounds. “They’d be honored, I’m sure.”

  Sykes kept point as they returned to the oracle chamber in case they encountered pockets of resistance. The oracle had demolished itself. The outer sheath was split in dozens of places, and much of it had fallen off the machine so now it resembled a shattered eggshell. The mechanisms inside were twisted into unrecognizable shapes. Pipes carrying superheated steam that powered the oracle spewed jets of vapor that were quickly filling the lofty chamber. The walls of the cavern ran with condensation and the temperature had climbed past one twenty. The huge space was becoming a scalding sa
una.

  Tisa paused at the base of the ruined machine. “Good,” she said after a moment. “I’m glad it’s gone.”

  “I can understand how you feel,” Mercer agreed. “The temptation to abuse its power is just too great. It’s a testament to your Order that it wasn’t subverted long before now.”

  The hidden entrance that Tisa had found as a child lay on the far side of the cavern. It took forty minutes just to locate it and a further two hours to negotiate the twisting tunnels. She didn’t remember the exact route to the surface and led them down countless dead-end branches.

  They came out in a cave high atop a craggy bluff midway between the village and the monastery. The sun was just rising, a pale wash that barely penetrated the valley. The air was cold and laced with the heavy smell of burned wood. Nothing remained of the monastery except a few upright support timbers and a smoking fifty-foot mound of debris.

  There were maybe two hundred huts in the village clustered around a central square. From their vantage it appeared the people were packing up to leave. They too understood that the fire would eventually attract attention. Their simple life of supporting the monks who tended the oracle was over. Several of the wood buildings were aflame. The villagers would leave nothing for the army when they came.

  “Are they loyal to your father or your brother?” Mercer asked.

  Tisa was helping position her father’s body for when they came back to get him. “The Lama. I doubt any of them know Luc tried to take over the Order.”

  “So they’ll help us?”

  “I believe so.”

  Sykes shot Grumpy and Happy a look to tell them to stay alert as they descended the trail to the valley floor.

  They were halfway to the village when the eerie morning silence was shattered. The narrow confines of the valley masked the approach of the helicopters until they burst over the rim. There were three of them, two huge Russian-made Hind-D gunships and a French-built Aerospeciale Gazelle in civilian colors. Laboring at the high altitude, the three helos were still as nimble as dragonflies.