Sawyer

by Theresa Beachman

  Egg chambers, half-submerged.

  Sawyer dropped his backpack onto the rock beside him. He quickly unpacked climbing rope. “This is our best chance.”

  Julia unhooked the Sweeper and cricked her neck. “What?”

  “We go down and plant the explosive.” He pressed a thick silver anchor and small rock hammer into her palms before cupping her small hands against his lips in a kiss.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  She didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.”

  “Secure this anchor into a crevice or split in the rock back from the edge while I sort out the rope.” He pushed his pulse rifle onto his back so he could work freely, winding the rope in giant loops from his elbow to his shoulder so it would uncoil without knotting.

  Julia shuffled on her backside away from the edge, her fingers searching the debris-strewn surface for a crack. She glanced up at him. “Sawyer, there are so many down there. A whole nest.”

  “Yes. We can do this. Trust me.” He smiled. It was down to him now. He had to get her out of here in one piece and bring her home. Sawyer touched the explosives in his backpack. “There’s enough to seal this cavern off for good, if we get the charges in the right place.”

  She nodded, her mouth thinning to a determined line. “Let’s get to work.”

  37

  Julia secured the anchors in the rocks and looped the rope through them, tugging the restraining knots to ensure they would support their weight. Her stomach churned as she tried to block out the expanse of grey-green water only a short distance away—the lake they were going to cross to escape. She’d mapped the cavern with the Sweeper. There were two exits on the far side of the enormous chamber. They were high above the waterline, but there was a way out. She had hoped that Garrick and Foster would appear at one of the two dark exits, but so far, she was alone with Sawyer.

  If she had to choose there was no one else she wanted to be with. He was behind her, working quickly and methodically, only the beads of perspiration on his forehead betraying his apprehension.

  His deep voice never wavered as he outlined what they were going to do. “We plant these in a staggered trail as we work our way through the water.”

  Explosives were lined up between them, each remotely connected to a timing device Sawyer had set to allow them to exit the cavern on the opposite side. There was more than enough TNT to blow the entire cavern into the stratosphere—if they could plant the charges. Neither of them had seen the swimming Chittrix again, and its absence eased the sporadic tremors that shook Julia’s body in paralyzing waves.

  She smoothed her fingers across the surface of the charges. She’d dedicated her career to weapons. “Going to be ironic if I get blown up,” she whispered.

  His hand closed over hers. “The only things going boom are the Chittrix.” He slid a finger under her chin, tilting her face upwards. He kissed her, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. She returned the kiss, leaning into him, desperately memorizing the taste of him. She grasped his face, not wanting the kiss to end because when it did, she’d have to descend into the dark, Chittrix infested lake.

  She finally broke the kiss, breathless, butting her head with his. He believed in her, despite everything. Time to buckle up.

  They abseiled down to the water in tandem, their boots lightly bouncing off the rock face as they descended in silence. Five minutes later, their feet hit the thin strip of rubble beach at the water’s edge. They unclipped their ropes, leaving them lying in a bright yellow puddle at the base of the grey rock.

  Julia shifted her backpack to the front of her body so she could access the primed charges she was carrying. The Sweeper was strapped snugly to her back. She needed her hands free to plant the TNT and swim.

  They walked to the water’s edge hand in hand, carefully picking their way over the rubble as quietly as possible. Ahead of them, the body of water was calm, disturbed only by the faint swishing of Chittrix tails on the far side.

  Julia laced her fingers into Sawyer’s, enjoying the last few seconds of his touch. Now that they were at the edge of the water, the hexagonal egg chambers were clearly visible. Murky, elongated shapes fidgeted behind the transparent cases, which continued below the surface, obscured by cloudy water. She stirred the mossy silt and sediment with the toe of her boot. They would be almost blind under the surface once they were in. She swallowed, forcing the lump in her throat back into her chest before it escaped.

  Sawyer squeezed her hand. “I’ve got you,” he mouthed.

  He waded into the water, guiding her. Warm water rose around Julia as she followed, pushing her body into the darkness one step at a time. Her knees locked, and she squeezed his hand, hard.

  He whipped round, concern marking his face.

  She had to say it now, before it was too late. “I love you.”

  His face lit up, his smile deepening the creases at the corner of his eyes. God, he was beautiful when he smiled. He drew a zipped line across his mouth with two fingers and indicated again the direction they were heading.

  Her knees released, and she tracked him, hugging the left-hand curve of the ledge. Finally, the bottom disappeared from under their feet, and they swam with slow, careful strokes to the first point where they would plant charges. Above, the Chittrix hung by barbed talons. A soft chittering charged the air as they communicated even in sleep.

  Julia hit the rocky edge after Sawyer, her fingers closing on a thin wedge of stone. She counted backward from one hundred. Anything to distract her from the void of turbid water below. She hadn’t swum in water deeper than her waist since her sister had died nearly thirty years ago. Her nostrils flared as she struggled to suck in enough oxygen to supply her thundering heart, and red motes danced at the edge of her vision.

  Sawyer turned to face her “Breathe,” he murmured, his eyes gentle. She inhaled a slow breath at his command, still fixated on the resting killing machines above.

  She reached into her backpack and removed the first charge, placing it in his open hand. Sawyer secured the charge with sticky putty and activated the timer. They had allowed themselves twenty minutes. Ten to plant the charges, ten to escape.

  After they planted the first charge, they worked in silent synchrony, swimming from one point to another. Julia passed Sawyer charge after charge, until the pack hung empty from her body. Then they switched to his. He sank low in the water, so she could hook them out and pass them to him. Her legs were numb from the burn of adrenalin through her body as she slid under the oily swish of Chittrix tails. Warm moist air beaded sweat on her forehead and the further they progressed into the nest, the more humid it became. After what felt like an eternity, she pulled out the final charge, handing it to Sawyer. “It’s the last one.”

  A sharp cracking rose from close by. Julia didn’t dare turn in the direction of the sound. If she looked, terror would trap her.

  Sawyer’s fingers wrapped around hers and for a moment they both held the charge as a sleepy Chittrix stirred a few feet away, spine stretching in the curve of the scaled wall. They didn’t have long. The Chittrix were going to wake soon.

  Something solid brushed past Julia’s legs. She blinked, not daring to move as Sawyer set the explosive.

  “There’s something in the water.” She barely heard her own voice, but he nodded and brought his pulse rifle forward, scanning the murky area surrounding them. Julia pressed her hand to her mouth as she waited, but nothing appeared. She dared to glance down, but the water was so thick with sediment it was impossible to see even her legs.

  Sawyer lowered his rifle.

  “We must keep moving.” His voice was hushed as he pushed off from the edge, heading for the far side of the cavern where the two dark exits loomed. He inclined his head for her to follow.

  Nothing had ever seemed so far away to Julia. Panic strangled her throat. It was madness to think they could make it up there in time without any of the Chittrix waking and tearing them apart.

  A trail of silver b
ubbles surfaced in front of her, breaking the greasy surface. She watched each bubble, transfixed, waiting for the Chittrix to pull her under.

  Sawyer checked over his shoulder, his eyes darkening when he saw she hadn’t followed. He turned and kicked powerfully back to her, his large hands grabbing hers and dragging her away from the edge. Julia’s legs swam on autopilot, but her brain had disengaged.

  “Julia,” Sawyer hissed, his voice barely a mutter.

  More silver bubbles appeared.

  “Julia, look at me.”

  She looked up, treading water. Her voice sounded disconnected and far off to her own ears. “I’m good.”

  He crushed her hand, as he towed her through the water hauling her to safety. Whenever she looked up, he was there, dragging her onwards, urging her to the rubble-strewn beach.

  Her feet found purchase, and suddenly she was walking. Julia staggered forward, the spell broken.

  38

  Sawyer’s boots skidded and slipped on slimy rubble. Finally, the ground stabilized under him and he lunged the last steps onto dry land, Julia’s hand still locked in his. She collapsed on the broken pebbles, dropping to her knees and retching. He curved his arm over her shoulder, shielding her as she caught her breath.

  A female voice called out in a loud whisper, “Hey.”

  Sawyer cricked his neck, scanning the space above them.

  A pebble pinged the surface of the water. He stroked Julia’s back then waded until he was knee-deep and able to focus on the ledge thirty feet above.

  Foster hung over the rim of a precipice, flat on his belly, Anna kneeling beside him. They waved furiously and Anna disappeared from view. Seconds later, a thick red rope tumbled over the edge, landing with a muted hiss on the filthy rocks.

  Hell. Yes. Sawyer surged forward and caught the rope, tugging it taut and forcing it into Julia’s hands. Then he moved around her, shielding her with his body from the mass of sleeping Chittrix behind them. He glanced at the relentless movement of his watch. They had less than twelve minutes.

  “Climb,” he ordered. He was getting her out of here alive.

  He scanned the still-unmoving water. “Julia. Now,” he insisted.

  For once, she didn’t argue. She tugged hard on the rope, checking its security, and then she began to climb hand over hand, her feet creeping up the rugged surface of the alien cavern.

  Sawyer stepped backward, trying not to notice the countdown on his watch. When he glanced up, the soles of Julia’s boots had disappeared over the lip of rock. He grabbed the rope, the rough texture reassuring and real in his palms.

  Ten minutes. Enough time to climb up and be far enough away before the charges exploded.

  He began to scale the rock face, his biceps straining and protesting as he hauled himself upwards.

  It was only when Julia screamed his name that he realized something was wrong. Above him her mouth was wide in a cry of terror.

  He stretched higher as he kicked off the rock, small pebbles hurtling down in a shower of scree. An iron vice locked around his ankle, grinding the bones together despite the robust leather of his boots, and an irresistible downward force tore his hands from the rope. As he plummeted he glimpsed the dark demon of the Chittrix below.

  Then the surface of the water rushed up to meet him, and everything went black.

  39

  Julia crouched on the edge of the rock as Sawyer climbed, his forearms bulging with the effort. Suddenly, a dark shadow surged, absorbing all the light beneath him.

  It’s a trick of the light.

  No.

  The Chittrix propelled itself high in a lethal thrust, its muscular tail driving it to a formidable height. Its clawed forelimbs locked onto Sawyer’s leg.

  Julia screamed, helpless.

  The talons flexed, ripping Sawyer’s hands from the rope. Tendons in his neck strained as he snatched to regain his grasp, but the weight of the Chittrix was too much. His hands closed on empty air as he tumbled backward, his shocked face pale against the dark silty water before it closed over his head, and his outstretched fingers disappeared.

  Julia hung over the rock edge, her fingernails grinding into the dirt in stunned horror.

  Foster rolled back rubbing his hands furiously across the top of his shaved head. “Fuck, no.”

  Julia shook her head.

  NO.

  She loved him.

  Below, widening circles of ripples were the only sign of Sawyer or the Chittrix.

  This was not going to happen again. Before, as a child, when she had broken free of the water, her lungs burning, her legs like lead weights, her father had screamed at her. Where was her sister? She had left her sister. Her father dove past her, and cold water had swamped her, weeds pressing in a suffocating blanket against her nose and mouth. When he had surfaced his gaze had been stony and accusatory.

  I’m not that child anymore. I was only nine.

  I’m tired of being alone.

  Julia dragged the Sweeper around to the front of her body, and flipped open the safety straps. She’d put everything she had into this device for one reason only. To protect those she loved and she loved Sawyer.

  She stepped to the edge, ignoring the flash of horror on Anna’s face. “We’ve rigged all the charges.” Julia glanced at her watch. “Anna, you’ve got less than ten minutes left.” She bent and kissed Anna on the cheek. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  Then she turned before Anna or Foster could try and stop her and stepped off the edge into the void of air.

  Blackness rushed to meet her, and she slammed feet-first into the water, plunging deep. The Sweeper fought her grasp, but she held on, her fingers aching. Water pressure finally slowed her descent, pressing against her lungs and brain.

  There was no going back.

  Julia kicked her legs and opened her eyes. The water was muddy, thick with sediment and suffused with a weird green light. She clutched the Sweeper close and used her other hand to spin in the water, scanning for any clue to Sawyer’s location.

  There. Just as she completed a full circle, a trail of silver bubbles lazily spiraled in front of her. And there, trapped in the bubbles was her sister. Maria’s arms were outstretched, her face smooth and white, a solitary bead of air trapped at the corner of her mouth, distorted by the omnipresent press of the lake. Her father ripped at the weeds ensnaring her sister in a futile battle.

  Julie started as a plant caressed her arm.

  She shook her head, dispelling shreds of the waking nightmare and made her choice. This time, she was leaving her sister far below in the green water forever. She couldn’t save Maria; she was gone.

  But she wasn’t giving up on Sawyer. He’d believed in her when she’d given up on herself. She wasn’t little anymore. She was a grown woman who was choosing to leave the past behind and she was willing to fight for her future.

  The fully charged Sweeper glowed in her arms like a protective force. She had made this specifically to blow the shit out of whatever was trying to hurt Sawyer, and she was going to use it.

  Ducking, she dove in the direction of the air trail.

  She kicked hard, swimming like a woman possessed, ignoring the stinging air wanting to escape her lungs.

  Where was he? Green, sludgy weeds obscured her view in every direction, giving her only glimpses of bubbles through the waving vegetation. A flash of skin caught her eye between two fronds. Julia powered forward, frantically pulling weeds out of the way.

  She burst through the grass strands. A dismembered arm. Bile rose bitterly in her throat at the torn flesh undulating in the current. Nausea roiled in her stomach, even as she realized the arm didn’t belong to Sawyer. It wore a cheap digital watch, not the battered black and silver Tag Sawyer owned.

  The whoomp of a gun fired under water came from her left. She thrust up, breaking the greasy surface of the water to grab another gulp of air before diving again.

  There. The red light of Sawyer’s headlamp beckoned to her through the
gloom.

  His body was contorted, the Chittrix still holding his foot as he bucked and twisted. He fired his SIG again, but the Chittrix easily dodged the water-slowed bullet. Out of ammunition, Sawyer let go of the pistol.

  Julia held the Sweeper close to her chest, swimming slightly to the right to get a clear aim. Sawyer rolled into her line of sight, blocking her view of the Chittrix.

  Move, damn you.

  One. Two. Three. She counted off the beats in her head. The last few precious seconds of oxygen she had in her lungs were for him.

  Now! His tangled body shifted, giving her clear access to the Chittrix.

  She depressed the trigger, the water in front of her shimmering as the Sweeper fired a pulse of concentrated sound.

  For a few seconds, nothing happened. Her world trembled on the brink of complete obliteration. If she couldn’t save Sawyer, she was dead.

  High-pitched sounds touched the limit of her hearing, distorted under the pressure of the filthy water. Then the Sweeper zeroed in on the correct frequency, and the Chittrix released Sawyer’s foot. The alien curled reflexively into a ball, convulsing as the sound pulse disassembled it at an atomic level. Yellow fluid bloomed from its joints, shrouding it in an ochre cloud.

  Sawyer bucked in the water, his face tortured from the lack of oxygen. Realizing his leg was free, he pushed toward the air above. Julia followed, clinging to the last vestiges of oxygen in her own body. His hand found hers, and he dragged her with him.

  She exploded from the confines of the water, drawing in sweet lungfuls of air. Sawyer spluttered beside her, then took a deep breath, diving back under the surface, taking her with him. She resisted. What was he doing? He was pulling her down, not up. She fought him, trying to free her wrist.