Black Mountain: An Alex Hunter Novel 4

by Greig Beck

  Returning to his grim surroundings, Alex looked down at his feet. His boots stood amid a mess of bones. Most were adult, the meat recently scraped or chewed away. But there were smaller bones too . . . a femur still attached to the tibia by gristle and tendon at the knee. Far too tiny to belong even to a small adult. Men, women and children – all had been prey; brought here dead or alive, he couldn’t know. But this was where it had ended for them . . . for his mother.

  He looked at the hellish desecration all around him, the heads lined up on the ledge. So many of them, and all killed so brutally, he thought miserably. He stared again into his mother’s face. I wish I could have helped you . . .

  The thought disappeared as he jerked his head back towards the mouth of the cave. There were too many remains here for only the one predator.

  Idiot!

  Alex sprinted for the entrance.

  FORTY-ONE

  Hammerson held up his hand. ‘Quiet.’

  ‘Huh?’ Matt said, looking up from the creature’s body.

  He saw that the HAWC commander was focused on something along the ridge. Matt stood, and Sarah came up quickly beside him and took his hand. As they watched, a hulking figure appeared at the rim of the ravine, outlined against the moon. Sarah gasped and crowded even closer to Matt.

  The HAWC woman said something in what sounded like Hebrew, and edged towards Hammerson.

  All four of them were backed together, forming a ring in the snow and staring up at the many creatures that now surrounded the ravine.

  The beasts were silent at first, but then their eyes found their fallen kind. Low grunts and rumbles built to a whooping sound, a terrifying cacophony that made Sarah cover her ears. When Matt turned to her, he saw that her eyes were crushed shut too.

  Some of the massive creatures rocked from side to side, but others uprooted huge trees and flung them down at the group. Others pounded the ground, the resulting tremors causing debris and snow to slide down into the ravine.

  ‘Don’t move,’ Matt said, reaching out to take Sarah’s hand again.

  She grabbed it, and pressed closer to him. ‘Like that’s gonna happen!’

  The HAWC woman held a throwing spike in her hand, which looked comical as a defence against the horde that would soon be bearing down on them. She whispered over her shoulder, ‘No, I think we should move – away from the body.’

  Matt nodded, keeping his eyes on the ridge. ‘She might be right, Sarah. Mountain gorillas have been known to grieve for their dead, and these things’ behaviour seems a lot higher order than that.’

  Sarah nodded jerkily. ‘Okay, let’s do it . . . slowly.’

  Like a single, many-legged beast, they edged towards the centre of the small valley. As they moved, the howling, whooping clamour increased, then stopped. The largest of the creatures had roared them all to silence. Now, it moved down the slope towards the small group, sometimes on all fours, sometimes in a shambling man-like stance.

  ‘Do not make eye contact,’ Hammerson ordered in a whisper.

  *

  Alex saw the creatures ringing the edge of the rift, silently staring down at the humans below. He got as close as he dared, then stayed low and watched. He could feel the fear emanating from the small group huddled together on the valley floor. One of the beasts was climbing down towards them. As it came upright, Alex saw that it stood a foot taller again than the creature he had slain. The moonlight glinted off the silvered hair on its impossibly wide shoulders and back, and in one massive hand it grasped a tree trunk that probably weighed as much as a man.

  Alex marvelled at its size and power, and wondered what the world must have looked like all those millennia ago when it ruled the land. His admiration evaporated when he recalled what he’d seen in the cave – proof of the creatures’ thirst for human blood.

  They killed your mother, the voice inside his head reminded him. They killed the last of your family; your chance to know your history.

  Alex saw his mother’s face silently screaming in the stinking pitch-black cave. Those monsters had mutilated her . . . had eaten her.

  As the giant leader roared and charged the group below, Alex leaped. He landed in the snow between it and the humans, his arms wide. He screamed into the enormous face and it halted, probably more out of surprise than fear. It came up onto its hind legs, its fist-sized eyes showing white around the dark pupils.

  ‘No old women or children here,’ Alex yelled.

  He held the large Colt at his side, waiting. He knew he could never kill all the creatures if they decided to come at him at once. But he would send as many as he could straight to hell.

  The beast blew out its cheeks in disdain as it passed Alex to crouch and sniff at the giant corpse in the snow. It closed its eyes and slid its hand over the face and chest, slowing at the gash in its side. It brought its fingers to its lips and tasted the blood, then touched the corpse again, this time on the face.

  Alex looked at the two creatures nearby, then up at the ring of beasts lining the edge of the ridge. Even though their boiled pink gargoyle-like faces looked the same, there were differences in the features – just as there were amongst humans. He looked back at the two on the valley floor; they shared a similarity that suggested a blood tie.

  Alex smiled grimly. ‘An eye for an eye then.’

  He had spoken softly but the creature straightened as it heard his voice and wheeled and charged at him. He heard the civilian woman in the group scream.

  The mountain of flesh and stinking fur stopped a few paces short of Alex and roared down into his upturned face. Alex didn’t flinch.

  ‘It hurts to have your family killed, doesn’t it?’ he yelled.

  The beast’s face loomed closer and its eyes narrowed. Alex sensed the emotions coming off it – fury, hate, contempt, the promise of retribution.

  Its nostrils flared as it inhaled Alex’s scent and then it screamed, so loud that Alex thought his eardrums might burst. Had it detected the blood of its kin on Alex’s body? It swung a huge arm at him, striking him in the chest with a sickening crunch and propelling him dozens of feet back into the snow. Alex lay still as the creature stared at his prone body, the gun still ready in his grasp.

  But it seemed to be finished with him. It blew air out through its puffed cheeks again, showing disdain, then swung back to its fallen kin. It tapped the body several times, then took hold of one of its mighty arms and started to drag it away.

  After a moment, it made a guttural sound in its throat, and several of its kind clambered down the slope to help. Together, they carried the body back up to the ridge.

  Alex got to his feet and followed.

  FORTY-TWO

  Hammerson took a few painful steps towards Alex. ‘Arcadian – wait! Alex! Ah, shit!’

  The ex-HAWC moved up and over the steep ridge faster than Hammerson could have hoped to follow, even if he was in good shape.

  He shook his head and turned back to the small group, keeping his injured arm pressed to his side. The ceramic plating in his suit crackled as he moved, and in many places it had simply fallen away. He could feel the searing cold through the rips in the toughened, insulated material. He could tell the young woman, Sarah, was about to go into shock. Matt Kearns looked cold and disorientated. Senesh was still staring up at where Alex had disappeared. Her fists were balled and her demeanour was far from being approachable.

  Hammerson knew the Israeli agent harboured ill feelings towards him, but she had done what he had intended: she had kept Alex Hunter alive, and had brought him back. He couldn’t have hoped for more. She just needed to realise her job was done.

  He spoke softly to her. ‘You said you owed him a life – you’ve given it to him. Now let him go. If he needs you, you know he’ll find you.’

  She didn’t turn, and he could see her hands flexing. Her mind must be working furiously, processing options that would give the best outcome for herself, and perhaps what she thought was best for Alex as well. Hammerson wal
ked a little closer.

  ‘You need to go home,’ he said.

  She spun around, one of the deadly throwing spikes in her hand. ‘You used me,’ she spat.

  She didn’t release the spike, just held it pointed at his face. He waited; there was nothing else he could do. His suit was shredded, and he was too battered to try to leap out of the way.

  He waited and watched. She hissed something in Hebrew, through clenched teeth, but he couldn’t make it out. Her head dropped, but her arm and the spike stayed raised. Hammerson stood his ground.

  ‘The general, your uncle, wanted answers,’ he said, ‘so give him some.’ She looked up and he pointed to the crushed white-clad soldier. ‘Those men have undergone some form of the Arcadian treatment. Take one of them back with you. Have your people cut it into a thousand pieces and see what made it tick. I’m sure as hell not going to miss it.’

  She dropped her arm, and, muttering to herself, walked to a rock near one of the dead soldiers and sat down . . . but for only a second. She jumped to her feet and launched a vicious kick at the corpse, then sat down hard again and grabbed her head with both hands.

  ‘They want me dead,’ she said, staring at the snow. ‘My own uncle wants me dead.’

  Hammerson moved closer a few paces. ‘I don’t believe that. He wants his asset back. You need to help him save face, though. Take the body. I’ll help, make a few calls . . . Meir still owes me.’

  When Senesh didn’t respond, Hammerson looked around for Logan’s body. He needed his comms pellet – his own had been smashed from his ear long ago. He saw the police chief’s body, went over to it and crouched down next to the bulky shape.

  ‘Sorry I got you into this, Bill,’ he said, and pulled the pellet from Logan’s ear and stuck it into his own. ‘Sam . . . come in.’

  ‘Boss, thank God. What’s been happening? I’m blind here.’

  ‘We need to get some warm and cold bodies off this freakin’ mountain ASAP,’ Hammerson told Sam Reid.

  ‘Yes, sir, I expected that. There’s a car already en route from Raleigh. Should be there in thirty minutes. You’ll need to get down to the east-side car park to rendezvous.’

  ‘Copy that.’

  Hammerson walked back to where Adira was sitting and, facing her, spoke again. ‘Sam, I also want you to get a message to General Meir Shavit, direct from me. Tell him that Captain Senesh has successfully completed her mission and has an Arcadian subject for retrieval, with our blessing.’

  Sam spluttered a response, but Hammerson cut him off.

  ‘At ease, it’s not Hunter. One of Graham’s abominations, I reckon.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Tell Meir that I’ll permit a single chopper to do a clean-up on the mountain and retrieve the asset, but after that I don’t want to see any more Mossad torpedoes on our soil or I’ll make it my personal mission to send every one of them home . . . horizontally. Oh yeah, one more thing – tell him to get the fuck out of our VELA satellite.’

  Sam laughed darkly. ‘You got it, boss. And, ah, where is Alex now? Is he with you? And what about Franks?’

  Hammerson walked away from Adira. ‘Unknown on both counts. There’ll be two for pick-up – Kearns and Ms Sommer. Don’t worry about me – I’m fine. I’ll check in later, once I’ve done a search.’

  He suppressed a groan as he felt the cold on his damaged side. He wasn’t really fine. Still, he’d been worse. He turned back to the Israeli woman. She was looking at him with a flat smile.

  ‘Thank you. Maybe after some time, we . . .’ she trailed off and shrugged.

  ‘Maybe? Maybe next life. You’re good at what you do, damn good. Perhaps we can work together in the future; who knows. But like I told the general – right now, you need to get off our soil.’

  He looked up at the dark sky as she got to her feet.

  ‘Don’t worry, they’ll find me,’ she said. ‘And also the other agents’ bodies. I bet they are already on their way – Salamon would have been in contact with the general by now.’

  She held out her hand and he shook it.

  ‘I may see you again, and I may not,’ she said. ‘Our stories rarely have happy endings, Jack Hammerson.’ She shrugged. ‘It is not in my hands now.’

  ‘It never is,’ Hammerson said, and walked away.

  *

  Alex skidded to a stop at the edge of a precipice. The path he had been following through the interior of the mountain for the last half-mile had dwindled to little more than a slim ledge alongside a dark void that stretched several hundred feet across. At its centre was a nothingness that swallowed even the sound of his footsteps.

  Along the way, he’d passed sections of rock art etched into the brilliant blues and greens of the deep-earth mineral salts. Not the sophisticated drawings or carvings that had so excited Matt Kearns in the outer caves, but crude drawings of the hulking shapes he pursued. If Matt had been there, he might have shown Alex the beginnings of a whole new language, or might have explained the creatures’ talent for storytelling, their desire to be free from slavery and from the darkness of their mountain prison. But Alex wasn’t interested in the wonders of science. His objective was to pursue and acquire the targets.

  He strained his eyes to make out the figures ahead of him. He could see the silver of their nocturnal eyes in the dark, their huge shapes attempting to conceal themselves along the narrow path. They were waiting for him, clearly intending an ambush. Perhaps they thought he was like the others of his kind they had mutilated – blind, weak and fearful.

  Taking my head won’t be as easy, he thought, and pulled the gun from his belt.

  *

  The leader raised its head, grunting once and causing the line of enormous bipeds to stop. Deep in the darkness of the mountain, the only light came from scant bioluminescent lichens, which gave everything a soft blue-green glow. Not enough for surface-dwellers to see by, but its people had adapted. The leader inhaled deeply through wide nostrils; it could smell the blood of its dead brother. Their pursuer was drawing nearer. Strangely, the darkness didn’t seem to bother it; instead, it came on at a determined and steady run. A wave of rage pushed out before it, unsettling the several dozen beasts that surrounded the large pack leader.

  The leader grunted, and a small band of the largest males broke from the group. The rest would seek deeper shelter, taking the body of their dead brother with them, and the females and the young.

  The band of males wanted to race back to meet the coming creature. But the older beast had heard of another with this small animal’s determination – the being that had driven their ancestors into the darkness. Perhaps this creature intended to do the same for the last of their great tribe. There was no hurry to find it. It would find them. They would wait here for it.

  It was close now, and the dominant male moved to the centre of the path. It drew in a deep breath, flooding its enormous lungs with the dank air of the deep cave and its own kind. Its goal was simple – to protect its species. It would not allow the small creature to get past it and reach the rest of its people.

  A booming whoop exploded in the air around the band of males and echoed throughout the dark chamber. But it came not from the leader; instead, one of the younger males broke from the pack and sprinted to face the oncoming challenge.

  The leader grunted in frustration, and held up an arm as thick as a tree trunk to halt the others, who were excited with the desire for blood and war. Unlike its younger kin, the older male sensed the need for caution. It would watch to see how the challenge was met.

  *

  Alex saw the creature speeding up the path towards him – a small mountain of fur and muscle. Its long yellow teeth were bared, and its huge hands knuckled the ground with such thumping force that he could feel the pounding through the soles of his boots.

  Alex didn’t pause, or even slow. He raised the Colt and fired two shots. The first struck the beast’s shoulder; the second blew a fragment of skin and hair from its large domed skull. The creature slowed, ei
ther stunned from the shots or from the boom of the gunfire in the enclosed space.

  The moment of disorientation was the small opening Alex needed. He used his momentum to ram the beast with his shoulder. Though it outweighed him by more than 1000 pounds, his speed magnified the power of his impact, causing the giant to stagger back. Alex grunted from the collision, and felt something crunch in his shoulder as he bounced off the massive torso.

  The creature swung its arm and latched onto Alex’s gun hand. As it took another unbalanced step back, the edge of the path crumbled beneath it. Alex braced himself, but the imbalance in weight took them both over the edge.

  Alex grabbed a shelf of rock and together they hung there over the void, the monstrous beast gripping Alex’s wrist with an enormous hand that could have wrapped itself around his arm three times. Alex felt his joints scream. Even though his system was flooded with adrenaline, other natural stimulants and the synthesised Arcadian treatment, his muscles weren’t strong enough either to lift the creature up with him or to shake it loose.

  Alex roared his frustration into the darkness as the beast threw up its other arm to latch onto Alex’s bicep. It was going to use his body as a ladder. He could see its silver nocturnal eyes as it edged itself towards his upper body; they were filled with hatred and cunning. He knew that when it reached the edge of the precipice, it would bite down on his head with its cavernous jaws and crush his skull.

  Alex tried again to lift himself, but it was impossible. His arm was going numb in the creature’s grip. He had only one chance . . .

  He edged the barrel of the gun he was still holding at an angle into the beast’s lower throat, and fired. The blast was deafening. The creature’s eyes went wide and Alex felt its grip loosen. The large face registered something like surprise. As it slid down his arm, its hand caught the gun, stripping it from Alex’s grip. He didn’t know if it was deliberate or by accident, but either way he’d lost his weapon.