Incursion (A James Shaw Mission Book 1)
Page 25
Pulling back on the trigger, Zach’s rifle bucked in his arms as it fired. Quickly bringing his rifle back down, Zach scanned through the scope, trying to require his target.
“Did you hit him?” Shaw asked.
“I don’t know. He isn’t there anymore.”
Tapping Zach on the shoulder, Shaw said, “There’s only one way to make certain.”
Zach nodded his head, lowered his weapon, ejected the spent casing and loaded another. Warily, he advanced to the spot where he had last seen the imposter. There was no body or blood. He had missed. Angry with himself, Zach cursed under his breath. It was proving harder than he thought to kill his opponent. Examining the tracks in the snow, he could see that the imposter had changed its route; instead of heading straight up the hill though the thick woods, the tracks led towards a trail that led along the side of the hill.
Following the imposter’s footprints, they soon came to the entrance of an abandoned mine. It looked as if it had ceased operations long ago and had been boarded up to prevent anyone from going inside. However, that had not stopped their prey. Several shattered wooden planks lay strewn on the ground. Its tracks lead into the mine.
Stepping past Zach, Shaw looked into the tunnel leading deep into the side of the hill. It was as uninviting as a freshly dug grave. A chill ran down his back at the thought of pursuing the imposter through the darkened mine shafts. If there had been another way, Shaw would have gladly taken it, but the imposter had gone into the mine, and he knew he had to follow it wherever it went if he wanted to stop it.
“Anybody got a flashlight on them?” asked Shaw.
Bruce shook his head. All Zach had with him was his lighter. Stepping inside the tunnel entrance, Shaw scoured the floor, looking for something to use to light the way. He had no doubt that their adversary, with his large reptilian eyes, would be able to see far better in the dark than they could. After a frustrating minute moving from side to side as he made his way down the tunnel, Shaw almost leapt for joy when found an old lantern with the stub of a candle still inside it. It wouldn’t last long, but it was better than nothing. Returning to the tunnel entrance, Shaw handed the lantern to Zach to light.
Taking Bruce by the arm, he led him aside. “Duncan, I want you to stay here and make sure that no one comes out of this tunnel. If someone tries to get past you, I want you to shoot them dead.”
“Sir, I don’t understand. What if you or the German Corporal comes back this way?”
“It won’t be us. I’ll tell Zach that we cannot come back this way. We’ll just have to find another way out of the mine.”
“How long do you want me to stay here?”
“If I am not back by nightfall, I want you to head back the way we came. Make your way into the village and find Anna. She should be able to help you contact the British sub waiting to hear from us. It’s imperative that the information you’ve memorized about the imposter’s craft is passed on to allied intelligence. I’ve a feeling that this isn’t going to end here.”
“But sir—”
Shaw cut him off. “Duncan, this isn’t open to debate. I want you to promise that you’ll do exactly what I’ve told you to do.”
With a pained look on his face, Bruce nodded his understanding. “Good luck, sir,” said Bruce, holding out his hand.
“You too Duncan, you too,” replied Shaw, firmly shaking Bruce’s hand.
Taking the lit lantern from Zach, Shaw took a deep breath and then stepped inside the tunnel. A cold shiver ran down his back as he held up the lantern. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but somehow, the further he looked down the shaft, the closer the walls seemed to become. Shaw knew that the imposter was somewhere deep inside the mine, no doubt waiting for its chance to ambush them.
Shaw held his submachine gun tight into his body with his right arm while he held the lantern up with his left, the light from the candle barely giving off enough light to see by. Walking warily beside him was Zach, his eyes like a hawk, trying to penetrate the gloom of the long, dank passageway. Thankfully, it only took a couple of minutes for Shaw’s eyes to adjust to the dark. Looking up, he saw that thick wooden beams, like the ribs of some long-dead animal, ran the length of the tunnel. The detritus from the once vibrant mine lay scattered about on the rocky floor. Broken tools and pieces of track that had once run the length of the tunnel lay there as a decaying reminder of what once had been. Shaw had never been inside a mine. He couldn’t tell what had once been mined from deep inside the hill, but with each flicker of his candle, Shaw saw odd shapes and shadows dance and crawl down the rocky walls of the tunnel. It was as if the long-dead miners had come back to reclaim their mine. Shaking such macabre images from his mind, Shaw found that the further they moved away from the tunnel entrance, the warmer the air inside the mine became. Shaw unravelled his scarf from his face and undid the first couple of buttons on his parka to let his body heat escape.
Coming to a bend in the tunnel, Zach suddenly tapped Shaw on the arm. Both men froze in place. Bending down, Zach studied the ground and then pointed to a scuff in the dirt. It was hardly noticeable, but to his trained eye, it was the sign they had been looking for.
Shaw nodded his head and felt his heart begin to race in his chest. They had its trail once again.
Moving off, Shaw began to wonder just how large the mine was. He had read about ones that went on for miles and were spread out over several levels. He hoped that wasn’t the case with this one. After a couple of minutes, they came to a Y-junction. After a couple of seconds reading the tracks, Zach pointed down the left-hand tunnel. Shaw nodded and together they pushed on ever deeper into the heart of the mine. With barely a quarter of the candle remaining, Shaw prayed to himself that they wouldn’t have to push on much further, or they would be doing so in the dark.
After about a minute, the air began to cool. Just up ahead, the tunnel’s darkness gave away to a dull gray light.
“Must be an airshaft,” said Zach. “My great-grandfather worked in a salt mine all his life. When I was a very young boy, he took my brother and me for a tour of his old job. There were numerous airshafts dug into his mine to allow the miners to get fresh air.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” replied Shaw. “Do the tracks still lead towards the airshaft?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s get going.”
“Normally they board the airshafts up or seal them when a mine is no longer in use,” explained Zach. “Some boards must have rotted up above and then collapsed under the weight of all the snow we’ve been having.”
The further they walked, the more Shaw could feel the cool air rushing in from above.
“Careful,” said Zach as he grabbed hold of Shaw’s arm.
Looking down, Shaw saw that there were a series of old wooden boards placed along the ground. They were covered with dirt and debris. If Zach hadn’t stopped him, Shaw knew that he would have stepped on them and most likely fallen into a covered-over shaft and broken his neck when he hit bottom, wherever that was.
Thanks, mouthed Shaw.
“Look at that,” said Zach, pointing at the imposter’s tracks. They had stopped at the first board and then continued on the far side. Shaw saw that it had easily leapt the twenty-foot distance over the boards, landing safely…and then nothing. The airshaft entrance was directly above where the imposter’s prints disappeared.
“Now what do we do? Do think it has gone up the airshaft?” said Zach.
“If it has, we need to get after it before it gets away.”
Turning on his feet, Zach looked down at the tracks. The uneasy feeling of being watched crept into Zach’s body. “You know these tracks look a bit odd.” Grasping his rifle tightly, he went to turn around to check the tunnel.
He was a split-second too slow.
Emerging out of the dark behind them, like a beast rising from the grave, the imposter hit Zach as hard as it could with its right arm, sending him flying against the far wall. His rifle flew out of his hands, landing
somewhere out of sight. With a pained moan, Zach felt the air forced from his lungs the instant he hit the rocky wall. Falling to the ground, Zach’s vision blurred as he struggled to get air into his chest.
Spinning about on his heels, Shaw tried to aim his weapon at the creature’s head, only to have his submachine gun struck from his hands. With a loud clatter, the weapon landed on the far side of the wooden boards. A second later, Shaw felt an excruciating pain shoot from his right arm as the imposter clamped down hard on his arm with one of its powerful hands. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Shaw felt himself being pulled towards the imposter. Digging in his heels proved pointless; in the blink of an eye, he found himself standing eye to eye with his enemy. The look of anger burnt deep in its blood-red eyes.
“I left you to die. Why won’t you die, James?” said Shaw’s brother’s voice inside his head.
“Sorry to keep disappointing you,” said Shaw, though gritted teeth.
“Time for one last bite,” said the imposter, gnashing its teeth inches away from Shaw’s face.
Suddenly, Shaw felt the imposter’s other hand reach over and grab him by the throat. Squeezing tight, the imposter lifted him up off his feet and began to squeeze the life out of him. Desperately kicking with his feet in the air, Shaw grabbed at the imposter’s hand, desperate to break its deadly grip. His neck felt like it was in a vice. Within seconds, his lungs ached for air. If he didn’t break the imposter’s hold on him, Shaw knew he had only seconds to live.
A shot rang out, echoing down the narrow passageway.
With a cry of pain, the imposter let go of Shaw and reached up for its neck. Dark-red blood seeped through its gloved hand. The bullet had nicked the side of its muscular neck, digging a deep scar through the first few layers of its skin. Turning about, it furiously looked over at Zach, a pistol held in his unsteady hands.
He had been aiming for the creature’s head but had been unable to get off a clear shot. Suffering from a severe concussion, his head ached like a spike was being driven into his skull. There were two of the creatures in his blurred vision. Taking a breath, Zach brought up his pistol once more.
Bellowing at the top of its lungs, the imposter charged straight at Zach. Pulling the trigger of his pistol, Zach heard his shot harmlessly ricochet down the length of the tunnel. In the blink of an eye, the creature smashed into him, painfully sending him tumbling head over heels across the rock-strewn ground. Walking over, the imposter hauled off and then kicked Zach as hard as it could in his ribcage, breaking several ribs like twigs.
Lying on the cold, hard ground, Zach looked up at the imposter as it walked towards him. Every part of his body felt on fire. He knew he was going to die. Seeing his pistol lying in the dirt just out of reach, Zach painfully rolled over and began co crawl towards it.
With a sharp kick, the imposter sent Zach’s pistol tumbling through the air and out of sight. Reaching down with a blood-covered hand, the imposter hauled Zach back up onto his feet. It stood there for a moment staring into the bleeding and battered face of its adversary. It had seriously underestimated the tenacity of the species he was dealing with. His training had been wrong. This wasn’t a race that was going to roll over and play dead; they had spirit. A green light flashed on. Looking down at the bracelet on his left arm, the imposter saw his proximity indicator come to life. It was near. He had mere minutes to get out in the open or risk being trapped on earth for the rest of its life.
Shaw rolled over and took a deep breath to clear the pain in his chest and the haze in his mind. Looking around, he saw the imposter standing with its back to him. Even though his body felt as if it had just been run over by a rhinoceros, he slowly got up on his feet and looked about for a weapon. Finding none, Shaw bent down, grabbed hold of one of the boards covering the hole in the ground and then brought it back like a baseball bat. Walking as quietly as he could, he waited until he was barely a yard from the imposter and then, with all the strength his body could still muster, he swung his board at the back of the imposter’s head as if he were trying to hit a baseball out of the park. The sound of the wood breaking in two on the back of the creature’s head broke the silence.
Letting go of Zach, the imposter let out a cry and staggered forward on its feet until it hit the wall. White-hot pain shot from the back of its skull. Turning about, it locked its eyes on Shaw standing there with a broken board in his hands. It had had enough of these irritants.
Shaw saw the look of rage flash in the imposter’s eyes as it strode towards him. He tried to step back, but wasn’t quick enough. He felt the imposter grab him under his arms. The next thing he knew, he was flying through the air. With a loud crash of shattering wood, Shaw landed in the middle of the old wooden boards. Dirt and dust flew up into the air as he crashed through the old boards and disappeared from sight. Darkness instantly enveloped him.
Canting its head, the imposter turned about and looked down at Zach. He was barely breathing. Frothy blood-red bubbles escaped his gray lips. With a loud hiss, the imposter dropped to its knees and then thrust its hand into Zach’s stomach, killing him. Digging around inside his body, the creature found what he was looking for and yanked out Zach’s blood-covered liver. Taking a deep bite, the imposter felt the rush from the nutrients course through its tired and hungry body. Standing up, the imposter moved over to the crater in the ground created when Shaw’s body had smashed through the rotting wooden boards. Looking down, the imposter hurriedly jammed more food into its mouth while it tried to see where Shaw had landed. Unable to locate him in the seemingly endless darkness, the creature stepped back a couple of yards and then ran forward. Easily leaping the hole, the imposter landed on the other side and then made for the airshaft and freedom.
37
The Tunnel
The cold was beginning to seep into Bruce’s aching body. His muscles, sore from the accident, made him hobble around like an old man. He tried keeping still, but it was no use. He felt that if he didn’t move about that he was going to freeze to death. His watch was broken, so he had no idea how long he had been waiting at the tunnel entrance; it could have been hours for all he knew. The sound of something large moving around behind him in the fog startled him. His heart began to race. Instantly, the image of one of the deadly beasts hunting him filled his mind. Looking down at the pistol in his hand, he knew that it would be better to put a bullet into his head rather than wait to be devoured by one of those animals. He wanted to run, to hide, but he had promised to stay where he was. Looking about, he saw a thick pine tree near the tunnel entrance. Dashing over, Bruce took cover behind the tree and then brought up his pistol. Aiming into the thinning mist, Bruce waited for whatever it was out there to appear. Fear dried his mouth. His hand shook nervously as he waited for a target.
With a loud neigh and shake of its head, a dark-brown horse without its rider appeared out of the fog and slowly made its way towards Bruce.
A wave of relief swept over Bruce. Lowering his pistol, he stepped out from behind the tree. “You silly old bugger. I could have shot you.”
The sound of a submachine gun being cocked behind him made Bruce cringe. He instantly knew that he had screwed up.
“Never allow yourself to be distracted. It could cost you your life,” said Anna as she stepped out from behind some bushes.
“Oh, thank God it’s you lass. I thought one of them beasties was coming to eat me.”
“No, it’s just me and my friend Sven,” said Anna as she moved over and ran a gentle hand over the horse’s nose. “He’s a Clydesdale. I borrowed him from the local volunteer fire brigade.”
“He’s a beauty. How did you find us?”
“I made my way back to the half-track and then headed out into the open field beside the road. Your tracks in the deep snow were quite easy to follow.”
Bruce’s aching thighs reminded him just how hard it had been to push through the snow as he struggled to keep up with Shaw and the German.
“Where is Capta
in Shaw?” asked Anna, looking about.
Suddenly, the sound of a pistol firing from somewhere deep inside the mine echoed out into the open.
Bruce and Anna swung their heads towards the mine entrance and held their breath. A few seconds later, another shot rang out.
Reaching over to the horse’s saddlebag, Anna dug around for a couple of seconds before pulling out a flashlight. Taking the horse’s reins, she quickly tied them off to a low-hanging branch.
Bruce saw what Anna was up to and stepped in front of the mine entrance. “Lass, hold on a minute. The good captain told me not to go in there and that I’m to shoot anyone who tries coming back out through that entrance.”
“Well he didn’t say that I couldn’t follow him,” said Anna with a determined look in her eyes.
Bruce reached over and placed a hand on her arm. Looking deep into her eyes, he said, “Anna please, if you go in there my orders will apply to you too, and I don’t want that.”
“Duncan, they’re in trouble. I can sense it. I’m not going to waste another second debating this with you. I’m going in there whether you like it or not.” With that, Anna strode past Bruce, flicked on her flashlight and then entered the mine.
“Damn it,” muttered Bruce under his breath. Looking up at the gray sky, Bruce said, “Ok Lord, I’ve never asked for anything in my life, so I figure I’m due a favor. Let’s see this thing through to the end together.” Shaking his head at himself, Bruce hurried after Anna.
The pounding in Shaw’s head was like a kettledrum being hit over and over. Opening his eyes, a pitch-black world greeted him. The musty smell of age and decay seemed everywhere. Reaching out with his hands, Shaw felt a coarse fabric. Grabbing hold, he started to tug and pull at the fabric. A couple of seconds later, a dull gray light shone down from above. He had heard of people talking about seeing a bright white light calling them to the pearly gates of heaven, but Shaw doubted that it was his time to go. Blinking his eyes a few times trying to focus them, Shaw took a deep breath and then slowly turned his head to look around. He was lying on his back on the floor of another tunnel. Above him, he could see a hole through the smashed boards from where he had been thrown. Slowly, Shaw got up on his feet. His woozy head told him to take it easy for a few seconds. A searing pain in his chest told him that he had broken a couple of ribs when he landed on the rocky ground. Looking down, Shaw saw a large piece of dust-covered denim at his feet, realizing that he must have fallen onto it. It had saved his life when it wrapped around him, blocking him from sight. When the imposter couldn’t see him anymore, he must have left. Shaw turned about, trying to find something to help him climb back up. The tunnel was dark and unpleasant. The only light there came from above. Digging in his pockets, Shaw found his lighter and lit it. Holding his lighter above his head, he bit his lip; the tunnel looked devoid of anything he could use as a ladder. He was about to let out an anguished cry when he heard the faint sound of voices coming from the tunnel above him.