Star Water Superstorm

by David Cline

  After André left, Amara’s senses seemed to rush back to her. As if for the first time, she realized the dire situation they were in. She stumbled through the doorway while dimming the brightness of her headlamp to save battery power and entered the first room on her left. There was a sectional couch in the shape of an L. Covering most of the cold floor was a pastel rug. The walls were decorated with various paintings. On the far side there was a desk with a lamp on top. Out of curiosity she flipped the switch, but no light came on. There had to be a power source somewhere. Another door in the back led her into a bedroom with a large wooden closet. She opened the double doors and found various suits and uniforms hanging on wire hangers. She exited through another small doorway and found a bathroom with a sink, toilet and even a shower.

  She would have loved to spend hours carefully examining and photographing everything she saw, but fear for her life compelled her out of the room and onto the next. The following room was identical to the first, other than the lack of art on the wall and different clothes in the closet. The next two were the same. As she continued, she heard a muffled yell and she ran in that direction.

  “Over here,” André called. She walked down a long corridor and joined him and Fin.

  At the end of the corridor was a large green door that extended from the floor to the ceiling, it’s top two corners rounded. Yellow paint with black diagonal stripes indicated a wheel which needed to be rotated to open it. Amara stepped forward to touch the rivets. The metal wheel was probably a foot in diameter.

  “This looks more like the door to a bank vault than a bunker,” she said. “Where is the handle?”

  André frowned. “It’s opened electronically. See these lights?”

  Amara stepped back. About five feet away from the enormous door, two glass boxes with dark tint were mounted into the wall. She stepped close to look at the colors. The top was green the bottom red.

  “All of the rooms I found had lights and signs of electricity,” she said. “There must be a generator somewhere. Maybe if we turn it on, we can open the door.” She noticed it was getting harder to breathe, like being forced to breathe through a straw.

  Fin shook his head. “I found the generator room. It is still there but it runs on diesel fuel and there isn’t any here. Even if we found some, I doubt we could get it started.”

  André was mumbling in French. “I am not going to die in a Nazi tomb. There are a few rooms we have not checked yet. Let’s go. I am already getting lightheaded.”

  They entered a room that looked like an office. A tall wooden shelving system was bolted to the wall, which contained dozens of cubby holes and drawers. 24 hours before, Amara would have traded a limb to spend ten minutes in there, combing through artifacts and documents. The three of them ran past it without a second glance.

  The next room looked to be storage. Empty ammo boxes littered the floor. They found some canned food, but that was no good to them if they could not find a source of air.

  The last room they checked looked like the rest, random furniture, and art on the walls. Amara walked through to the opposite side of the room and found another door. She opened it and saw it led to a flight of descending stairs. She alerted the others and the three of them followed her down. At the bottom they came out onto a cement platform about 20 feet long and 10 feet wide. There was nothing down there except for some pipes. She was about to turn around when a shimmer caught her eye. She crept to the end and looked down. There was about a foot drop-off and then the color of the floor looked odd in her light. She got on all fours and reached down with her hand. It was water.

  André was coughing hard when he reached her. Fin whistled. “These Nazi’s sure know how to build a fort. This must be the water table. They were completely self-sufficient in here.”

  Amara sat down, defeated, and hung her legs over the edge. She had not slept for at least 36 hours and now, with the lack of oxygen, her eyes grew heavy.

  André sat down next to her, his chest heaving. “Asthma is acting up,” he said in a raspy voice.

  Fin looked down at them. “You guys rest here. I am going to have one more look around upstairs.” Neither of them protested as he hurried back the way they had come.

  After a minute André chuckled. Amara looked at him. “You know,” he said, with an exhausted expression, “I always wanted to die doing what I love.” He shifted his weight to get more comfortable. “Although, I admit it’s a little sooner than I had hoped.”

  The two of them sat in silence for what seemed like a lifetime. Each breath they took made it harder to take the next.

  When Amara heard approaching steps behind her, she looked up, still daring to hope for good news. Fin’s face said it all. She had not seen such a sorrowful expression on him since they had met. He sat down between them.

  “I could not find anything useful,” he said apologetically.

  André nodded with a sad smile on his face.

  Amara’s eyes swelled with tears.

  “Freaking Nazis are still finding ways to kill people even after all these years,” she whispered.

  The three of them sat in silence while their headlamps grew dim and their air ran out. After a while André could not sit up anymore and had to lie down, his chest heaving. She wished there were something she could do to help, but she would soon be in the same situation. Fin swore under his breath. He ripped his headlamp off and threw it into the water. Amara watched as the light grew faint and disappeared.

  An inky blackness began to invade her vision. She laid down next to André and shut her eyes. At least it was not going to be a painful death, just uncomfortable. She tried to breathe slowly but her heart raced, fighting to keep her alive. Her thoughts flashed back to how they had gotten there. Images of the tree with the dead man. José in the bar with the coin. The cave with the 10,000-year-old handprints. What an adventure.

  She was soon in the peaceful place between sleep and consciousness. She heard a splash. Her eyebrows twitched as her brain lazily tried to make sense of it. A loud voice from below startled her.

  “Damn it, Nick! watch where you are kicking your feet. Your fins keep smacking my goggles!”

  Another voice answered.

  “Take it easy, Adam. Stop swimming so close to me you…” his voice trailed off. “Whoa, what do we have here?”

  Amara stirred as dripping hands grabbed her in a strong hold, sitting her up. Before she could open her eyes, her mouth was pried open and a rubbery object forced in. Her body heaved as large amounts of fresh oxygen was absorbed. It was like stepping outside on a cool breezy day. Life flowed through her veins and she opened her eyes.

  “Take your time,” a voice said. “Breathe easy.”

  She saw in her peripherals that another shape was doing the same to André who was having a tougher time breathing. He kept coughing, which forced the mouthpiece out. She looked at Fin who laid on his side and looked at her with a glassy expression.

  After a few rejuvenating minutes, the man helping Amara stepped back, giving her space.

  “How did you find us?” she asked, wheezing.

  “We were diving and came across a headlamp snagged on a rock deep below,” the man said. He extended his hand and Amara shook it. “My name is Nick Wood.” He gestured to the second figure giving oxygen to Fin. “That over there is my moderately handsome apprentice, Adam Wilkins.”

  The other man snorted, and seeing that Fin was better off than André, returned his attention back to the Frenchman. “Wood, I have taught you everything you know.”

  The man named Nick Wood grinned and then turned back to her. “What do you say we get you guys out of here?” He made a quick once over of the cement walls around them. “Where are we?” he asked. “This place feels like a tomb.”

  Amara gestured for the regulator again. He gave it to her. After three deep breaths she said, “We are in an underground Nazi bunker.”

  Nick’s eyes widened. He and Adam exchanged a quick glance, which look
ed more like excitement than fear. She watched Nick breathe a few quick breaths from the regulator and then took the mouthpiece again.

  “I am guessing by the amount of oxygen left in here, there is no way out?” he asked.

  Amara shook her head. “Someone sealed us in.” She could not see his face well because of the bright light on his head, but she noticed his eyebrows raise as he looked up at the stairs leading to the rest of the bunker. His expression reminded her of a child discovering the trapdoor to the attic for the first time.

  After a few moments, he shook his head. “Well let’s figure out how to get you out of here.”

  He took Amara’s hand and helped her sit by the edge of the cement platform. “Adam, you think this guy can make it back to the surface?”

  Adam glanced at André, and after a second nodded. “He doesn’t have much of a choice. Just try not to cough underwater. You ready to get out of here?” André looked up at him and gave a thumbs up.

  Nick walked over to Fin, who had been watching the proceedings like a Sunday morning news cast. “You think you can make it a few more minutes by yourself down here?” he asked, unstrapping a small canister from his leg. “This is my emergency oxygen. Should be enough to last you until we get back.” Fin took it and looked up at him with fear in his eyes. Nick slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry my friend, we’ll come back for you, I promise.”

  He looked back at Amara and André. “It’s going to be cold without wetsuits. We do not have any extra goggles so your eyes will have to be shut the entire time. We will let you have the regulator in your mouth until we need a breath. When we stop swimming, you will know we need a quick one before moving on. Make sure to equalize your ears as we go. Just pinch your nose and blow gently.”

  He and Adam lowered themselves into the water. Nick reached his arms up and helped Amara down. The water attacked her skin like frostbite. Her chest tightened. With dread she turned and faced Nick. He slipped the regulator in her mouth and rubbed her arms.

  Nick grinned at her. “I’ll try not to lead you straight into a rock. You ready?” Amara nodded and closed her eyes. “Last thing we want is for you to panic,” he continued. “It can get dangerous on a dime down there.” He gestured toward the watery depths with a tilt of his head. “If you need a moment to compose yourself, just tap my arm. We have plenty of air.”

  With one last look toward Fin, she closed her eyes and submerged herself underwater. Wood paused for a moment to let her get used to it and then guided her deeper. Her head felt a lot of pressure, so she held her nose and blew gently. It was a surreal feeling not being able to see anything. She was being led to the freezing depths of the unknown. She shook uncontrollably and knew if they did not get back into the sun soon, she would be hypothermic.

  Every minute or so, Nick would stop swimming and she would hold her breath as he removed the regulator. A couple times, panic began to set in, and she thrashed her arms wildly. Each time, Nick immediately put the regulator back in her mouth and squeezed her arms as if to tell her that they were almost there.

  Amara had no idea how long they were underwater. She guessed it had been about 10 minutes when she felt pressure leave her eardrums and they began to rise. She cracked her eyes open and saw above her the glimmering sign of the surface reflecting in the sunlight. When she broke through, she spat out the regulator and smiled as the freshest air she had ever tasted entered her lungs. Adam and André broke the surface next to them. André began to cough with such violence, Adam had to hold him up in the water so he would not sink. Nick left Amara to tread water and helped Adam swim André to the shore a few yards away.

  Once everyone was safely on solid ground, Nick removed the large oxygen tank off his back and replaced it with a fresh one lying amongst assorted gear they had left on the muddy beach. He handed Amara a water bottle.

  “You going to be okay with him?” he asked. “I think he swallowed some water down there. Some might have entered his lungs.”

  Now that she was out of that Nazi catacomb, her self-reliance was coming back.

  “We’ll be fine,” she said.

  Adam spat in his goggles and rubbed it around with his forefinger. “I would stay with you, but Nick would get lost down there without me.” He winked at her.

  Nick chuckled. “It’s true. I need my sidekick just in case we need to sacrifice someone.” He put his fins back on. “Plus, we never dive alone.”

  Nick gave her a peace sign and then disappeared under the water.

  She looked at André. He had stopped coughing and was laying on his back with his hands over his face. He must be exhausted. She moved some gear around and rested her head against a large blue backpack. Everything felt dreamy. She thought about Nick and Adam. They were still cracking jokes to each other, even after finding three almost dead strangers in a Nazi bunker. As if they did that sort of thing all the time. She shook her head and laughed quietly. Whoever they were, she was grateful for them.

  About fifteen minutes later, three heads broke the surface and began their short swim to land. Fin’s face was as white as the lilies that grew in Amara’s front yard. His teeth chattered so loudly, she thought they were going to break. Nick sat him down next to her and helped him take off his dripping shirt. He opened one of the backpacks and helped him into in a gray shirt with a picture of a balloon tied to a bench and the word Argyle across the bottom.

  “We are going to take you to the nearest city.” He gestured to André. “This guy needs to see a doctor. His lungs still haven’t opened up all the way.”

  Fin rubbed his arms trying to get blood flowing again. “Where are we?” he asked.

  Nick put his goggles and fins into a small sack and stuffed it into a backpack. “You guys are in Paraguay.”

  Fin and Amara looked at each other. “We must have crossed the border looking for the entrance to the bunker,” Fin said.

  “Actually, we crossed the border underwater. We are in an area called Tres Fronteras. Right where Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina meet. You ready?”

  Nick and Adam helped everyone to their feet and then shouldered the large packs with the gear. Fin offered to help carry some equipment and was given two of the oxygen tanks.

  They walked in a single file line along a narrow trail. Amara felt like a zombie. She had lost track of how long it had been since she had last slept. She was so hungry, she felt nauseous. They had only eaten light trail snacks on their trek through the jungle.

  “Why on earth were you two scuba diving in such a remote area?” Amara asked. “The chances of you being in that spot to see Fin’s headlight…” She did not want to finish the thought.

  “We were doing some research on the Guarani Aquifer,” Wood answered. “It’s the largest freshwater aquifer in the world and the source of water for millions of people down here in South America.”

  There was a swampy spot in the trail and Amara sidestepped it.

  “How in the world did a Welshman, a Frenchman and an American end up trapped in an underground bunker?” Adam asked. “Sounds like the start of a bad joke.”

  Amara explained how they were archeologists studying new finds in Cueva de las Manos. She told them everything. José and the coin, the dead man in the tree with the ring. The camera with the pictures of the top of the bunker and how a man slammed the hatch closed trapping them along with an explosive present. As Amara was wrapping up the tale, the trail curved and up ahead she saw an old pickup truck.

  “That is quite the adventure,” Nick said, as he threw his gear into the bed of the pickup. “Sounds like after all these years, someone is still puppy guarding the base. Getting too close carries a sentence of death with it. Do you still have the ring?”

  Amara pulled it out of a soggy pocket. Nick took it and brought it close to his face, rotating it delicately with his fingers. “Incredible,” he whispered. Adam walked over for a better look.

  “This looks like it belonged to Heinrich Himmler himself,” Wood said, gestu
ring for everyone to load up. “You still have the coin too?”

  Amara handed it to him. Nick held it up so Adam could see it. “You see that little letter?” he asked. Adam looked confused at first and then his expression changed.

  “Spain?” he asked Wood softly.

  Nick nodded slowly. “Perhaps. Or maybe Südamerika.”

  Amara looked back and forth between them with wide eyes.

  Nick caught her glance. “The Nazi’s plundered Europe stealing billions of dollars’ worth of art, gold, diamonds and gemstones. A lot of that treasure is still missing all these years later.”

  “Trillions of dollars in today’s markets,” Adam said.

  “Where do you think all that treasure is still hiding?” She asked.

  Nick gave her a sly grin as he handed the coin back to her. “South America.”

  They turned toward the truck to join André and Fin, who were already sitting in the back. Amara looked over her shoulder and saw a figure dash behind some thick vegetation just off the trail about 100 yards behind them.

  She swore loudly. The sickening feeling of imminent death paralyzed her for a moment. She froze in place.

  Wood laughed until he turned and saw her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “There is someone following us,” she said.

  Nick flipped around and scanned the area. He must have seen something because he yelled like a commanding officer in battle.

  “Adam!” He grabbed Amara and shoved her forward.

  “Got it,” Adam called, diving into the bed of the truck.

  Nick swung open the passenger door and shoved Amara inside slamming it behind her. A gunshot rang out and the side mirror exploded, inches from her arm.

  “Adam,” Nick yelled again, stumbling backwards. He sprinted around the front of the truck to the driver’s side. “Anytime now!”

  The back window shattered in a shower of glass as another gunshot rang out.

  “Keep your heads down,” Amara yelled. She shielded her face from the razor-sharp glass fragments raining down on them like confetti.

  She stole a glance backwards through the missing window and saw Adam in the truck bed spring up like a jack in the box. In one motion, he loaded a magazine into a handgun, cocked it, and began to fire in the direction of their attacker.