by JE Gurley
His warning to Sandersohn came too late. Overstressed metal ripped like paper. The bolts of the conveyor frame sheared away, dropping the entire conveyor to the floor of the tunnel, crushing Sandersohn beneath tons of steel. The crash drowned out Eve’s scream. The roof cracked, a fissure ten-meters long sending a shower of rocks cascading down on them. The floor of the tunnel rose and bucked beneath them as the manmade wound in the earth tried to seal itself.
“Get up,” he told Eve.
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Then crawl, damn it!” he shouted. “I won’t leave you here.”
She rose to her knees, and then used his leg to climb to her feet. Together they half-dragged Tells down the conveyor. Blasts of hot air, filled with smoke and dust, created a wind tunnel, propelling them forward. Ripples raced along the conveyor fabric, trying to trip them. His flashlight was useless in the engulfing cloud of dust. He could see nothing. The wind at their back guided them.
The clamor of the mine plummeting into the magma chamber became a crescendo building to a climax. He could hear the tunnel collapsing behind them, chasing them as if determined that no one should escape its wrath. Ahead, through a break in the smoke and dust, he saw a faint patch of lighter shadows. Just a few more yards.
They emerged into twilight. After countless hours in the murky mine, it seemed like high noon. He urged Eve and Tells on. The conveyor ended abruptly with a five-meter drop to a waiting ore truck. He located a ladder on the side of the conveyor support platform. Eve climbed down first to help him with Tells, but lowering him was too much for his injured arm. When the ladder began bouncing, he dropped Tells the last few feet to the ground, and then lost his grip on the ladder and tumbled after him. The impact knocked the breath out of him.
He regained awareness with Eve tugging on his arm, yelling at him to get up. He got to his feet unsteadily and lumbered after her. He fell again when the ground heaved. Behind him, the conveyor platform groaned and collapsed on top of the ore hauler. If Eve hadn’t roused him, he would be lying beneath the pile of mangled steel rubble.
Tells. He looked around for the elderly scientist. A rush of relief flooded over him when he saw Tells sitting on the ground with his back against an oil drum. Eve had dragged him to safety. The old man was awake but in no condition to continue. Alan wasn’t sure about himself either.
They were near the bottom of the old mining pit. The only exit was the switchback road circling the sides of the pit to the top. Boulders shaken loose by the tremors bounced down the terraced sides of the pit. He watched as one massive rock broadsided one of the ore haulers abandoned on the sloping roadway. It tipped the truck onto its side and shoved it off the roadway. The thirty-six ton vehicle tumbled to the bottom, strewing pieces of metal along the way.
“There!” Eve cried.
She pointed to an open jeep. Alan prayed the keys were in the ignition. He helped Tells to his feet, leaned his shoulder into Tells’ belly, and laid him across his shoulder. Staggering under Tells’ weight and his own unsteady legs, he carried Tells to the jeep and dumped him unceremoniously into the back. Eve pushed Alan out of the way when he began to climb behind the wheel.
“You can’t drive with one arm,” she said.
He didn’t argue. He could barely pull himself in beside her.
The keys weren’t in the ignition, but Eve found them between the seats. She cranked the jeep, shoved it in gear, and spun sideways in her haste to leave. Alan cringed as she raced up the sloping gravel roadway at breakneck speed, the left tires coming perilously close to the crumbling edge. She darted around rocks crashing across her path, slewing the jeep from side to side in a daring game of dodge ball. He gripped the door handle with his good hand. Poor Doctor Tells, half-unconscious, rolled around the back of the jeep, careening off the sides in a personal game of pinball.
The jeep skidded sideways as Eve powered it around a switchback. A truck door appeared in front of them through the dust, wrenched from the crashed ore hauler and imbedded in the roadway. Eve jerked the wheel to the left to avoid it, scraping the left side of the jeep along the side of the cliff. A stream of gravel and dirt gouged out by the shattered mirror pelted Alan’s face. The truck door smashed the driver’s side mirror. Eve ducked as it sailed over her head.
As they rounded the last curve, she punched the accelerator, urging every remaining horsepower from the engine. Alan glanced across the pit. The entire slope above the conveyor tunnel was collapsing, slowly sliding down into the pit. If they had delayed another minute, they would have been surfing the avalanche of dirt and rock to their deaths. The jeep cleared the ground as it reached the flat surface surrounding the rim of the open pit. Tells groaned as the jeep slammed back to earth. The jarring impact sent a shooting pain ripping through Alan’s infected arm. He gritted his teeth and cluing to the door handle with his good hand.
A plume of dust rose from the pit behind them, which grew wider as the edge adjacent to the underground mine inched slowly toward the elevator shaft and mine buildings. In its last act of revenge, the dying magma chamber was eating the entire mine and surrounding countryside. Intulo and its brood would either die or be trapped forever beneath kilometers of rock. The mine could not produce enough gold to make reopening it worthwhile. Verkhoen had lost.
Alan had lost as well. He thought of Vince and Bill, victims of Verkhoen and Duchamps’ greed. He had lost his beloved Cerberus, buried in a tomb he had helped create. His father had lost the most. Now, Verkhoen would have no need of three boring machines. Hoffman Industries would go bankrupt. He and Verkhoen shared equal responsibility for that.
Headlights blinded him. Eve threw the jeep into low and jammed on the brakes. The vehicle slid sideways to a grinding halt. The jeep shuddered and the engine sputtered and died when she released the clutch. A five-ton army truck blocked the road. A soldier stepped out of the truck. A second soldier stood beside the truck with his weapon pointed in their direction.
“Who are you?” the first soldier yelled.
Alan saw the captain insignia on the man’s sleeve in the truck’s lights. “Alan Hoffman, Doctor Eve Means, and Doctor Tells, Captain. We were in the mine.”
The captain motioned for the soldier to lower his weapon. He checked the clipboard he carried and read off their names. “Alan Hoffman, Doctor Evelyn Means, and Doctor Simon Tells.” He looked up in awe. “We presumed you were dead. Glad you made it.” He pointed to the pit. “We saw the dust and smoke rising and came to investigate. Did anyone else make it out?”
Alan shook his head. “Just us three.”
“What about Mister Verkhoen? We heard he was in the mine.”
Verkhoen’s absence startled him. “You haven’t seen him?”
“He hasn’t reported in. We assumed he was dead as well.”
Alan had his doubts. The true bastards were hard to kill. “Have any of the creatures escaped?”
“A few did, but we killed them all. They attempted to break out several times, but we beat them back. Your engineer said there is another creature down there, some kind of monster.” His face clouded with doubt. “None of our people saw it.”
Alan nodded. “Yes, there was, but I don’t think it survived. Verkhoen dynamited the reservoir. The lower levels are flooded and the magma chamber cavern is collapsing, pulling the entire mine down on top of it.”
The soldier stared at him. “I don’t know anything about that, but when the tremors started they evacuated everyone from the mine and the surface buildings surrounding it.”
“Did that include my engineer, Trace Morgan?”
“Yes, sir. Mister Morgan refused the evacuation order. When we sent troops to remove him, he became quite insistent and combative, decking one of the soldiers. I believe we have him in custody. He insists we allow him to have his iPhone. He is not happy.”
Alan grinned. “No, I don’t suppose he would be. I’ll go to him shortly before he tries to break out.”
“Would you
please come with us?” the captain asked. His tone left little room for refusal. As they walked to the truck, he noticed Alan’s arm. “You look like you could use a medic, sir.”
“Doctor Tells is in the back of the jeep. He needs help more.”
The captain yelled at the truck. “Private Diggs, you and Dawson bring a stretcher.” The two named men jumped out of the rear of the truck. One of them carried a collapsible stretcher.
“We’ll see to him, sir,” the captain told Alan.
The ground groaned and shook as more of the surrounding landscape sank into the expanding sinkhole.
“Perhaps we’d better vacate the premises,” Alan said. “It looks like the Ngomo Volcano hasn’t uttered it last gasp yet.”
The captain studied Alan’s face for a moment. “Volcano? If you say so, sir. Please follow me.”
Alan looked on as the two soldiers carried Doctor Tells to the rear of the truck. He helped Eve into the truck. Tells looked up at them from his litter. In spite of his pain, he smiled. “That was some ride. If I can survive that, I can survive anything.”
Eve offered an apology. “We were in a rush.”
More quietly, Tells said, “They will never believe us, you know.”
“Believe what?” Alan asked.
“The story about the swamp and Intulo. They will have to accept the giant insects. We have video and doubtless, there are a few dead specimens lying about, but the concept of an eons-old, hive-mind creature will be too much to accept. I advise caution when speaking of it lest you are considered too dangerous for the public welfare.”
“But we saw it … them,” Eve said, dumfounded by Doctor Tells caution. “They exist.”
Tells nodded. “Yes, and we must be vigilant for any others of its kind, but we have no proof, and proof is the difference between an amazing discovery and just another tall tale from a UFO nut.”
Alan realized Tells was right. Who would believe them? He hardly believed it himself. It already seemed like a nightmare from which he was slowly awakening. By dawn and the revealing light of a new day, he might not believe it at all.
“Maybe you’re right. I’m just a mechanical engineer trying to improve mining conditions. Maybe I should stick to that. If I don’t lose everything. I’m out one fifteen-million-dollar machine and the prospects of selling two more.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. The video Eve posted acknowledges the marvels of your Cerberus. Eve insisted on that. I’m quite sure offers will soon pour in. With Van Gotts’ loss, other mines will prosper. So is the way of big business. Perhaps there is little difference from one prehistoric creature eating another.”
The truck started up. Alan put his good arm around Eve as it jerked into motion. “After a shower and a shave, perhaps we could have dinner and a bottle of wine.”
She smiled. “We could skip the dinner and the wine,” she said, “but I insist on the shower.”
As the truck rumbled past the chain-link fence surrounding the mine, the main elevator shaft tower collapsed. Moments later, the buildings around it disappeared into the yawning chasm with the shriek of shredded metal, crushed masonry, and splintered wood. Alan hoped his efforts had been enough to kill Intulo and its brood. Even so, he would continue to build his machines, but he would remain on the surface. The lure of deep, underground mines had worn off.
27
July 6, 2016, 6:30 p.m. Ngomo Mine, Perimeter fence –
Klaus Verkhoen followed his herder guide along the chain-link perimeter fence of the mine. He was pleased with his handiwork. He would stash his diamonds until things calmed down at the mine, and then convert them to bearer bonds, which were much easier to sell than raw diamonds. He would pump the water from the mine and retrieve all the remaining diamonds. Duchamps, Hoffman, and Means’ deaths had erased his past sins. No one would ever learn of his unsafe mining attempts, his murderous efforts to conceal them, or his somewhat overzealous method of eliminating the insects.
He approached the mine from the pit side to avoid the military presence near the main gate. With a shower, a shave, and a change of clothing, he would resume control of his mine. The Board of Directors would be irate with him for recent events, but they would not remove him, at least until he had cleaned things up. He would be their public scapegoat. Let them stew, he thought. By the time they voted to remove him as CEO, he would have retrieved the remaining diamonds. With such tremendous wealth at his disposal, he would be beyond their reach.
He no longer needed Van Gotts Corporation. It might have been enough for his father, but his ambitions ran higher. Wealth was power and he would wield it like a scalpel, delicately slicing into the flesh of high society and slipping in through the open wound. “Control the controllers,” his father had always told him. Verkhoen would heed his father’s advice. Wealth bought influence both political and social. He would not place himself in the limelight. Instead, he would quietly pull the strings from behind the curtain, safe from retaliation and investigation.
He turned to his silent herder companion. “How would like a job as my new aide? You could learn to wear real clothes and abandon those filthy, smelly cattle. The pay is very good, and your taciturn manner makes you highly qualified for the job.” The herder glanced up at him and quickened his pace. Verkhoen laughed. “Perhaps you’re right. You have found your niche in life. Everyone should know their place.”
As he neared the pit, the ground shuddered beneath him. His guide turned to him, his face a mask of sheer terror. Before Verkhoen could stop him, he raced away into the darkness back toward his herd of cattle. It’s just the water knocking out a few old supports, he said to himself. A few tremors are to be expected as the earth settles. When the ground heaved and groaned a second time, louder than ever, he suspected the situation might be more problematic than he had anticipated.
A cloud of dust rose from the pit, silhouetted against the twilight gloom. A third tremor struck; this one strong enough to slam him to the ground. He scrambled for his case of diamonds, clutching it to his chest like a security blanket. A knee-high tsunami of dirt rushed toward him, ripples caused by the quake. When it struck him, the ground bucked beneath him, tossing him into the air. He landed heavily on his back, knocking the breath from his lungs. The chain-link fence vibrated like a plucked violin string, keening a low, one-note dirge. The ripple of soil raced past him, wrenching steel fence posts from their concrete foundations, and flinging them into the air. As he watched, the main elevator shaft collapsed.
After a handful of seconds, the earth tremors subsided. He picked himself up from the ground and brushed off his clothing. The billowing cloud of dust and smoke erupting from the pit drew him like a beacon. He needed to see what was happening. It could affect his plans. As he stood at the brink of the pit, he was at first mystified by the glowing pool of liquid spilling from the conveyor shaft, but as the intense heat and the sulfurous stench of molten rock reached him, he knew his mine was finished. He laughed. Even the bloody planet is conspiring against me, coughing up its molten guts to entomb my diamonds.
The silence didn’t last long. He watched in horror as the side of the pit broke free and slid to the bottom, plunging buildings and equipment into the growing pool of magma. The edge continued to crumble, devouring everything in its path. The expanding chasm came for him like a vengeful spirit, the ghosts of the mine’s dead seeking retribution for their lost lives. Running would make no difference. The mine was swallowing the entire compound, taking everything to its grave. He knew instinctively Alan Hoffman had a hand in its demise.
Verkhoen set his case of diamonds beside him, took his cigarette case from his shirt pocket, and placed a cigarette between his lips. He removed his cigarette lighter, but had no time to light it. The ground disintegrated beneath his feet, and he plummeted into the dark, yawning abyss.
28
July 8, 2016, 10:45 a.m. Protea Hotel, Klerksdorp, South Africa –
Alan and Eve sat on the second-floor balcony of his ho
tel room. The day was bright and beautiful, made even more so by the pitcher of Black Velvet cocktails sitting on the table between them. The mixture of Hennessey Black Cognac, sweet vermouth, Maraschino liquor, and orange bitters was a little too sweet for his taste, but it was cold and alcoholic and Eve seemed to enjoy them. Her opinion and comfort now meant more to him than his. If he intended to pursue a relationship with the beautiful biologist, he would not make the same mistakes of his failed marriage and his less-than-stellar subsequent relationships.
It had been two days since they had escaped the mine. The military continued to cordon off the area around the mine, but he had managed a helicopter ride to view the destruction by using his credentials as a geologist. The open pit mine was now a five-kilometer-wide, fifty-meter-deep depression, reminding Alan of photos of sites of underground nuclear explosions. A jumble of razed buildings and wrecked equipment that had been the Van Gotts Ngomo Mine littered the bottom of the chasm. Wisps of smoke and rivulets of lava rose through cracks in the rock. The molten magma, released from its pool fifty kilometers beneath the earth by the destruction of the upper magma chamber, would continue to rise until it filled the depression, erasing all signs of the mine and the horrors buried beneath it. It seemed a fitting end. Nature was healing the wounds created by man. Ngomo Volcano would take its place on the geological survey maps.
The military had no accurate count of the dead, but most estimates placed it at one-hundred fifty-two. Publically, they were attributing the disaster to the sudden eruption of a previously unknown underground volcano. No word of giant prehistoric insects had yet leaked to the public, but soon the video Eve had uploaded to the internet would find its way to legitimate news outlets, and the shit would hit the fan. He thought of the memory stick in his pocket containing the video of the magma chamber Trace had recorded. He had watched it one time through. Even though the quality was poor because of the obscuring pall of smoke, Intulo was plainly visible, as was the raging inferno. It looked like the lake of fire in hell. The images captured before Masowe had ignited the swamp showed the Carboniferous flora and fauna in all its glory.
