by Alton Gansky
Zeisler climbed in the ring. The column of light intensified. The floating disks began to spin faster. Perry remembered that Zeisler said when he had done this thirty years ago he had been able to change the terrain a few times before he lost control. Then he was awash with violent pain and had survived because Perry’s father had pulled him from the ring.
The ring, Zeisler had learned, was never meant to be entered. The entity had even tried to communicate that by saying, “Outside.”
A voice echoed in the chamber: “Out . . . side . . . out.”
The water began to pour. Milky gas rose like a San Francisco fog. The walls went clear. Perry could see a flat expanse of sand. Not desert, just a flat surface of granules. The dome above was black. The walls went opaque again, and the fall of water lessened.
“It’s trying to choose where to put its power—holding back the water or holding us in,” Gleason said. “Zeisler is throwing a monkey wrench into the gears.”
“Zeisler is the monkey wrench,” Jack said.
“We have to get him out—”
“The door!” Janet hollered. “The door is open!”
“Move!” Jack shouted.
Perry snapped his head around to see the opening free and clear. Tuttle’s body lay just outside. Carl pushed Janet through and followed on her heels. Gleason was a half step behind.
“Zeisler,” Perry called, “it worked. Come on.”
Zeisler didn’t respond. He was leaning against the edge of the ring, his hands to his head.
“I’m going after him,” Perry said.
“No, you’re not,” a voice declared.
Perry took a step, then was lifted off his feet.
“It’s closing. Get out!” Gleason yelled.
Perry’s feet touched the ground once before he became airborne again. Jack had him by the back of the shirt and by the belt. A half second later, Perry was facedown on the sand outside. Jack landed on him. The door filled in again.
“No! Get off me, Jack.”
“He’s gone,” Jack said. “I looked at him before I came through. The last thing I saw was him collapsing in the pit. He gave his life for us.”
“You chose me over him,” Perry fired back. “You should have grabbed him!”
“No, I didn’t. You were the closest. I would never have reached him in time and made it back to the door. You would have done the same.”
Perry stood and faced his friend. He was furious. Anger and fear boiled to the top. “How am I supposed to live with this? How am I supposed to live, knowing I let that man die?”
Jack looked back, crestfallen. “You don’t have to live with it, Perry. I do.”
Chapter31
“We have to go now, guys,” Gleason said. “The water is coming down pretty good. I’m afraid hunks of ceiling are going to start coming with it.”
Perry looked up and saw the column of light reaching for the ceiling that was too far and dark to see.
“It’s going to be like a dam. Once one hunk goes, it all goes,” Gleason added.
“It’s a long run,” Carl said.
“Then we had better get going. Once the lake water hits all this sand, it isn’t going to be pretty.” Perry stopped. “Where are Finn and Dean?”
“They were gone when we came through,” Janet said. “They left us and their man behind.”
“I suggest you lose the Sam Browne belt and the body armor, Deputy. It’s going to slow you down, and if, God forbid, we have to swim, you don’t want to be carrying all that.”
Janet peeled off her torn uniform shirt and started running back the way they had come. As she ran, Perry saw her pop loose the support straps that held the utility belt to her uniform belt and then unbuckle the Sam Browne. It dropped behind her.
They moved as fast as they could in the sand. Perry’s injured lungs complained with bursts of pain, but he kept up the pace. Pain was no longer a factor. They were trying to outrun the equivalent of an underground tsunami. If they were right about the base’s inability to hold its integrity, and if the ceiling gave way at any point, floodwaters would come down with such force that nothing would be able to stand in its way. And nothing would survive.
Perry prayed as he ran. He thought of his father. He thought of Zeisler. He thought of his friends. Running in sand was taxing. They were already beaten down by all that they had experienced, and now they were asking more of their bodies than any of them had a right to. But they ran anyway.
Carl fell, but Jack had him back on his feet before anyone else could reach him. Janet was proving the strongest of the group. She led the way. Carl was close behind. Jack and Gleason ran together. Perry brought up the rear. Every few moments, Jack glanced over his shoulder and made eye contact.
Ten strides had become a hundred, and a hundred became a hundred more. There was no conversation. Every breath was too precious. Every thought had to be focused on escape. Perry wondered about Dean and Finn. They had had a head start, but they had come in by a different access—an access that Zeisler had implied as being difficult.
“Trust me,” he had said, “it’s not pleasant.”
They pulled up short at the entry point, standing before the blue door. The sole sound was the heavy breathing of bone-weary people as they drew one ragged breath after another.
“I hope the door didn’t relock after we left,” Gleason said.
“Let’s find out.” Perry pulled the door open. He and the others entered.
“There’s no light,” Gleason said.
“I was afraid of that,” Perry said. His flashlight was still attached to his vest. He turned it on.
Gleason and Jack did the same.
“Onward and upward,” Perry declared. “Care to lead the way, Jack?”
“You . . . skinny guys . . . go first,” he replied, sucking in a bucketful of air with each inhalation.. “I’m the slow one.”
“I got it,” Gleason said. “And feel free to call me skinny anytime you want.”
The sand had made running miserable. Jogging up the ramped corridor was a new torture. At times Perry stumbled to all fours, only to rise and keep pushing on. It was his turn to look back at Jack, who was two yards behind.
Gleason set a rapid pace, one that kept everyone moving but not so fast as to risk exhaustion or to leave someone behind. Terror dictated an unmeasured flight, filled with a burst of energy that would soon leave someone, maybe everyone, too drained to go farther. One step followed the other. It was all they could do. The rest was in God’s hands.
They reached the top of the ramp. Perry and Jack stumbled in. Gleason was hanging on the ladder, his head down, hair and shirt soaked with sweat. Janet had collapsed to the floor. Carl was bent over, leaning against the wall, his body heaving as he sucked in air.
“I can’t go on,” Janet said. “I’m spent. I’ve never been so tired.”
“We have to keep going,” Perry said.
“Aren’t we safe yet?” Carl asked. “If the lake drains into the cavern, then we’re above where the new waterline would be.”
“We don’t know that, Carl. But even if that’s true, we still have to worry about what happens when the water hits the millions of tons of sand. The gas we experienced in the house was nothing compared to what may come ripping up through the tunnel.”
“If the roof caves in, that door won’t be able to hold back the flood,” Jack said.
At first Carl didn’t respond. Then he said, “Okay, that’s a picture I don’t want to see.”
“I’m telling you . . . I can’t climb that ladder. I don’t have any strength left.” Janet was on the verge of tears. She rolled on her side. “Go . . . go without me.”
“Then I’m staying,” Carl said.
“No one is staying,” Perry said. “You ready to climb, Gleason?”
He nodded. “Climbing. My favorite part. I’ve been looking forward to it.”
“I think he’s lying,” Jack said.
Gleason smiled. “I am.” He placed both hands
on one of the rungs.
“Wait a sec.” Perry shone his light around and found the rope he had wound up earlier, the rope they had used to lower the backpacks. He took one end and approached Gleason. “Turn around, buddy. I’m gonna give you a tail.” Perry slipped one end of the rope around his friend’s waist and tied it off. “All right. Jack and Carl will be right behind you. Don’t dawdle.”
“I don’t know how to dawdle,” Gleason replied. He started up the ladder, towing the rope behind him.
“Carl, take the rope and make certain it doesn’t tangle.”
“What are you planning?”
“We’re going to give Janet a lift. You want to pull or push?”
“I don’t get it,” Carl said.
“Jack, I need your bulk topside. You had better get going.”
“Will do.” Jack was on the ladder and several rungs up when Perry returned to the rope and took the opposite end.
“What are you doing?” Carl asked.
“Tying a harness for Janet.” When he was done, Perry had two loops in the end of the rope. “Sit up, girl.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“You can. You will. Help her up, Carl.”
Carl did. Perry knelt beside her. “Here’s what’s going to happen. This is called a fireman’s chair knot. One loop goes around each leg.” Perry lifted her left leg and slipped one loop over her foot, then did the same with the other leg. “You need to stand up.”
This time Janet didn’t complain. She struggled to her feet with Carl’s help. Perry moved the loops up her legs and over her thighs. He then circled her chest with a length of rope and tied a hitch in it. “This will keep you from tipping backward.”
“I’m sorry to be the weak link,” she said.
“The last thing you are is a weak link.” Perry smiled in the dim glow of the flashlight. “I sent the others up because I was too tired to go myself.”
“You’re just trying to be chivalrous.”
“How am I doing?”
“Pretty good,” she said.
Perry asked Carl, “Push or pull?”
“I can’t leave her.”
“Push it is, then. Janet, when you see the rope begin to tighten, center yourself in the shaft. Any help you can lend by climbing would be appreciated. Otherwise, let us do the work. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Carl, as soon as she starts up, you start climbing. There isn’t much room for her to swing, but she could still knock you off, so stay alert. Questions?”
“Where did you learn to tie a knot like this?” Carl asked.
“I was a Boy Scout,” Perry said.
“Eagle Scout no doubt.”
“Of course.”
Perry started up the ladder, moving as fast as he could. Every step hurt, every muscle complained. He climbed anyway. Pain meant he was still alive.
He reached the top breathless, with his arms on fire. He followed the duct that led to the oblong room where he found Jack and Gleason resting. He was glad to see it. They were going to need whatever strength they had left. They rose as soon as his head appeared from the ceiling opening.
“Man the rope, guys.” Perry sat, dangled his legs through the opening, and lowered himself to the floor.
“Is there anything that will fray the rope as we pull?” Jack asked. “I meant to look, but I was sucking air like a vacuum.”
“We should be fine,” Perry said. “I didn’t see anything that might snag the line. The rope shows no sign of fraying from when we lowered the packs.” He inhaled deeply, then placed hand to rope. He started pulling. Gleason was behind him, and Jack anchored the team.
The rope moved easily at first as the slack was taken up. Suddenly, it resisted their efforts. The slack was gone, and they were now lifting Janet from the deep recesses of the shaft. Perry counted a cadence as the three men pulled with strength they didn’t know they had. They were working on reserves, and Perry prayed they had enough to finish the job. If they lost their grip even for a moment, Janet might drop into Carl, knocking him from the ladder. It was a frightening image.
After what seemed like an hour of pulling, a voice echoed from the ceiling hatch, “Okay, I’m in. Stop pulling.”
“What about Carl?”
“He’s here. He says now he wants a ride.”
Perry laughed. He laughed as much from exhaustion as from the humor of the comment.
“I’m starting to like the little guy,” Jack said.
The sound of two people crawling through the duct echoed out the opening. Janet was the first to appear. She still had the makeshift rescue harness around her. Perry and Jack helped her down, then helped Carl while Janet freed herself.
“Thanks, guys,” she said. “I never would have made the climb.”
“Let’s get going. As long as we’re in a confined space, we’re in danger.” Perry pushed to the front and led them through the concrete room and back the way they had come. Minutes later, five weary people trotted into the open air of the dam’s catch basin. Carl half carried Janet.
The sky had never looked better to Perry; the air had never tasted sweeter. He kept up the pace until they reached the place where they had first dropped down into the overflow basin. The lake was just a few feet below them.
“We made it!” Carl said. “I had my doubts. I admit it. I had serious doubts.” He threw his arms around Janet and lifted her from the ground, spinning in joy.
There was a noise from the lake.
“That can’t be good,” Jack said.
Chapter32
The sound was unlike anything Perry had ever heard. Jack was pointing to the center of the lake, but Perry had already seen it. White brown foam was percolating to the surface and spreading out in ever-expanding rings. The roaring was like a small waterfall, but that changed in an instant. From the center of the rings a geyser of air and water shot thirty feet into the air.
“The ceiling is caving in,” Perry said.
“And dumping water on all that sand,” Gleason said.
“At least we’re out of trouble,” Janet remarked. “We are out of trouble, right?”
“I don’t think so.” Perry started to speak again when he noticed the concentric rings of churning foam begin to move in a way familiar to anyone who has seen water slip down a drain or flushed a toilet. The water was turning in a cyclonic motion.
“We need to get out of here,” Perry said. “Now. We need to go now.”
“I don’t understand,” Janet said.
“We run now, lady,” Jack said. “We explain later.”
Perry crawled from the shallow end of the overflow basin and onto the sloping lakeshore. He reached for Janet to take his hand and pulled her up. Jack was up a second later. Gleason and Carl followed. They ran up the hill to the old access path that had brought them here.
“To the cars?” Carl asked.
“No,” Perry replied. He was breathing hard. “Not yet. The cars are downhill and downwind. We need altitude. Keep climbing.”
“Great, another incline,” Janet complained, but started up the slope helped by Carl. Five winded, weary people fought through undergrowth as they wove their way through trees and by bushes.
Fifty yards up, Perry stopped and turned. A new noise had grabbed his attention. I should continue to run for higher ground, he told himself, but his curiosity was too powerful. He knew he was about to witness what no one had ever seen. He stood in silence, surrounded by friends, as he fixed his eyes on the spinning funnel of water. Every few seconds, a new geyser would erupt through the funnel, disrupting the flow, but the funnel always returned.
“Why is it doing that?” Janet asked between gulps of air.
“The chamber is releasing air,” Perry said. “As the water rises, it compresses the air against the ceiling until enough pressure is present to overpower the force of the draining lake. Once it vents, the lake continues to drain.”
“Judging by the color of the jet,” Jack added, �
��it’s venting more than air. I thought when we were stuck in the room with the gas that it couldn’t get worse. I was wrong. Imagine what it must be like down there.”
“I prefer not to,” Carl said. “I wonder if Finn and his pal made it out.”
Perry recalled Zeisler’s words about the other entrance. “It’s doubtful.”
Gleason winced. “It would be a horrible way to die.”
“So the lake is going to drain until it fills the chamber below?” Janet asked. “We weren’t in any danger. We could have walked up the hill.”
“Maybe,” Perry said. “Have you ever seen the damage that water from a failed dam can do? I’ve seen pictures of chunks of concrete weighing as much as a car carried miles downstream.”
“But it’s not the dam that’s in danger,” Janet objected.
“It’s the same kind of force acting on the lake bottom—the chamber ceiling. Moving water is one of the most powerful forces on the planet—”
“Something is happening,” Carl shouted.
The whirling, churning water changed. It was no longer a turning funnel. The center had widened, and water rushed down the edges like a river over a waterfall.
“It’s happening,” Perry said.
“What’s happening?” Janet asked.
Perry didn’t have time to answer. The lake sank two hundred feet in a second as the bottom collapsed into the chamber. The noise was stunning, a roar that was felt as much as heard. The vacuum caused by the sudden drop of the reservoir drew air after it. It was as if the wind had changed directions. Perry felt his ears pop, but he kept his eyes fixed on the scene before him.
Perry understood what was happening. Since water could not be compressed, the weight of the water above forced the water that had been at the bottom out to the sides in a gigantic wave that washed up the shores and into the overflow basin he and the others had been standing in minutes before. The fluid in the basin churned in a frenetic boil and poured down the culvert and out the relief ports at the bottom of the dam. Perry couldn’t see the last part, but he didn’t need to. His training and imagination made the picture clear.
Janet took Perry’s arm. “If we had stayed . . . I mean . . . I thought we were safe . . . but you . . .”
