by David Wood
Reid kept demanding that they fight their way out. Now they were aware of the enemy, of its limitations, they could concentrate bright lights to hold the chitinous creatures at bay and battle back to the surface. Sol Griffin refused to accept that. The creatures could, he assured them, easily back around like they had before and trap them, hem them in. They had done it once, though the party had no way of knowing how. They could do it again. Perhaps they were able to grab the ceiling of the tunnels like cockroaches and scuttle silently above, as Jen had suggested before. Or perhaps there were cracks and passages hidden in the darkened folds of rock that the scientists hadn’t seen.
“We wait!” Sol shouted, anger tinging his loud voice more than ever.
“Wait?” Reid demanded. “For what? For a host of angels to fly down and lift us up through the rock?”
“Don’t be absurd. Until someone comes. Until a rescue is effected. Thankfully those things are clearly reluctant to come in here. I think it’s too bright for them with this much greenium glowing from the walls, and our halogens keeping it all charged. We’re safe in here, so we wait.”
“And how long will our batteries last on those lights?” Aston asked. “I have to agree with Reid. After all, who’s coming? The remaining staff at the base are hardly trained to rescue us, and they don’t have the manpower. And besides, they don’t even know right now that we need rescuing. No one does!”
“Someone will come when we don’t go back topside,” Sol insisted. “Wong knows the team has enough supplies for a maximum of three days. If we don’t return after three days, he’ll know something is up and send a rescue party.”
“Really? Is that pre-planned?” Aston asked. “Because it seems bloody unlikely to me. After all, no help came for the previous team, and they were down here long enough to die!”
“Not true,” Sol Griffin said. “We came. We’re the help.”
“Oh, really?” Aston’s anger was finding new heights. “You expect us to believe we’re a rescue mission? We’re a second effort, another team sent down here based on the assumption the first team was long dead and gone. Admit it! You expected to find bodies at best. That Jen survived is close to a miracle. We were no rescue team.”
Sol remained tight-lipped, cheeks red with barely contained rage. Aston thought perhaps the man was getting close to the end of his tether, that all his preparations, all his expectations, had been blown far out of the water. After all, who could possibly have expected this turn of events?
Maybe Sol and SynGreene had thought the previous party lost, or maybe poisoned by the greenium somehow, something basically mundane. Attacked by mantics? Stories of pale-skinned hominids? Strange red knives in the chests of centuries-old corpses? Everything they had found had to be well beyond anything Sol had planned for.
“There might be another option.” They all turned to see Jen Galicia standing behind them. Standing unassisted, Aston noticed, as she ate another ration. The food and water must be finally giving her some strength. But she was still pale as milk, trembling with the effort of remaining upright.
“What option?” he asked.
“There might be a clue in the photos I took of the shrine. I need a new battery for my camera.”
A battery was quickly sourced from Marla Ward and they fired up Jen’s camera, huddled around to look at the small screen on the back. She flicked through pictures of a shrine, a strange, smooth arch with a stack of flat stones beneath, pictographs on its curving sides. Another shot showed a small stone cairn, and behind it rows and rows of pictographs on the wall.
“It’s like someone wrote a novel,” Slater said. “With the notes Professor Murray Lee made in the journal, maybe we can decode at least some of this.”
Aston pulled the small book from his jacket, flicked through the pages. He looked at Sol. “Give us some time with this first.” He glanced at Reid. “Yeah? Just some time to maybe understand better what’s happening?”
Reid let out a grunt of annoyance and turned away. He barked at Tate to watch the two tunnels leading away from the far side of the lake, then went to stand by the tunnel leading back.
“Looks like you’ve got some time,” Sol said with a grim smile. “If you can figure out anything useful, we’d all be very grateful.”
Aston moved with Jen to sit on a rounded rock, and Slater sat on Jen’s other side.
“Let’s see what we can do,” Aston said, finding the first of Murray’s translations and holding the book open for the others to see.
Sol Griffin had moved to guard one of the tunnels on the far sides of the lake, Ronda Tate moving to stand at the mouth of the other. Terry Reid still watched intently down the only tunnel they knew would lead them out again.
Aston, Slater, Jen, Syed, and Marla sat in a tight group near the lake’s edge. The team muttered to each other, picked unenthusiastically at food and drink, biding their time, until eventually Aston, Slater, and Jen had done all they could.
“Okay,” Aston called out. “I think we have all we can get.”
“What does it tell us?” Sol asked.
Aston laughed darkly. “Not much and nothing good. As far as we can figure it, someone lived down here. No idea who or what they were, the pictograph in the journal is simply translated as ‘people’ or ‘the people’. They lived beneath the earth for an indeterminate length of time. But some of these people ate the ‘shining fish’, which we suspect, from the context, is some kind of taboo. There are lots of sections, great chunks of text, that we can’t translate. We’ve done our best to guess.”
“How confident are you that it’s right?” Sol asked.
Aston shrugged. “In broad strokes, I think we’ve got the gist of it. More people ate the fish and were either driven away or left on their own. Either way, they were outcasts from the people in general. Something happened, some event we can’t figure out, and the outcasts... awoke, we guess, something bad. Murray translated the bad thing as ‘overlord’. Murray suggested a number of different translations—Master, Ruler, Leader, and Overlord. But it’s overlord that he stuck with for the rest of the text after that.”
“Overlord of what?” Marla asked, looking around them. “The great lord of the dank green caverns?”
Aston smiled. “I guess so.”
“And what is this overlord?” Syed asked. “What manner of creature? A person or something else?” She didn’t seem too bothered by the revelation, Aston noted. If anything, she appeared eager to know more.
“No idea,” Aston said. “But it seems the overlord sent its minions after the people. Again, that’s the word Murray used. Minions.”
“Those nasty-ass creatures that took Gates,” Reid said bitterly from across the cavern.
Aston glanced over, but Reid still stared ahead, down into the blackness, keeping his distance from the group. Aston looked back to their notes. “Okay, so it seems that enemies came, who wanted to control the Overlord. They brought people with them and fed their heads to the overlord, or something like that.”
“They did what?” Syed said, eyes wide. Her eagerness seemed to wane.
“That’s the best we can figure,” Aston said. “Those victims then became like the creatures, the mantics we guess, and fought the people. It was a kind of civil war down here. The people were driven back, and they took up shelter in new caves, where there were none of the shining fish to be found.” He tapped the page with one forefinger. “This last bit is perhaps oddest of all, but our best guess is they come out from time to time to get what Lee called ‘bloodstone’.”
Slater held up the dagger they had taken from Murray’s chest. “We think it’s this stuff, the same stone as the blade that killed Lee. It’s like a kind of ruddy obsidian. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it before. But I think maybe it’s the only weapon that might work effectively against the mantics.”
“Is that all we’ve learned from this?” Sol asked. “That crazy story and that our only chance might be hand to hand combat with
stone age weapons? That’s not much use at all.”
“No, it’s not,” Aston said quietly.
“Too late to worry now,” Reid called out. “I see mantics down this tunnel. It seems like they don’t want to get too close right now, but they’re getting bolder by the minute.”
“The glow of the cavern hurts their eyes,” Slater said. “But I guess they’ll get over that soon if they want us badly enough.”
Aston handed the journal to Slater, hefted Gates’ rifle, and moved to join Reid. He caught glimpses of glistening black far away in the darkness.
“I’ve got movement too,” Tate called out.
Sol turned back to his tunnel, straining to see into it. After a moment, he nodded. “Yep. Me too.”
Reid turned to Aston, his eyes narrowed, haunted. “We’re surrounded.”
27
Aston pursed his lips in thought, his mind calm despite the dire circumstances. They had an option.
“They’re getting closer,” Tate called from across the cavern.
“Here too,” Sol said. “I think they’re moving slowly and letting their sensitive eyes adjust. They know they have us trapped, so they can take as long as they like.”
Aston was a little surprised by the high tremor in the otherwise unflappable man’s voice.
“We don’t have enough ammo for this,” Reid said quietly beside him. “We know their weak points, we can more effectively defend ourselves, but it’s only a matter of time. If there’s enough of them, we’re gonna run out of bullets before they run out of bodies.”
Aston remembered Gates, screaming in the creature’s mandibles as he was carried away into the darkness. “Okay,” he called out, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You need to listen to me and not ask questions.”
Aston walked away from him, back into the middle of the cave near the edge of the glimmering pool of clear water. Bright slashes of neon green darted around in its depths. “I didn’t mention this before because as soon as I came up from the water, everything got crazy and I agree that getting out is the best option. But there is another way.”
Slater walked over to him, brow furrowed. She looked from him down into the water and back again. “What’s down there?”
He wasn’t surprised she had immediately guessed the truth. She was sharp that way. “When I dove earlier, I found another door at the bottom of this pool. I went through it. There’s a short underwater passage, then it comes up in another cavern. I didn’t check it, but there’s a passage leading away from that cave.”
“You’re suggesting we go deeper?” Sol said.
“You think we stand a chance against those things?” Aston gestured towards the tunnels. “We know there’s more than one way in and out of these caves, if the other stories we’ve heard are to be believed. That door and the tunnel on the other side have to go somewhere.”
“Maybe just deeper in,” Tate said. “It doesn’t mean there’s a way out.”
Aston shrugged. “True. But there might be. And right now, there’s definitely no way out of here.”
“Getting closer!” Reid called out. “We’ll have no choice soon!”
“What if the creatures are waiting on the other side when we get there?” Syed asked.
“Then we’re no worse off than we are now. But they might not be.”
Sol turned away from the tunnel he was guarding. “He’s right. This is a nobrainer. We have to go through and take our chances.”
“How far of a swim is it?” Jen asked. “I don’t know how long I can hold my breath.”
“Me, either,” Marla said. Her face was pale. “I’m not that great a swimmer.”
Aston thought for a moment, then, “Okay, it’s about twenty feet down in this pool. Then you go through the door, along a short passage that then curves back up to the new cave. You’d be under a minute, tops. Sol, you had ropes in your pack, right?”
“I have one. It’s thin rappelling rope, one hundred and fifty feet.”
“I think that’ll be enough. Quickly, pack up only the essentials, whatever each of you can carry in a small pack. Make sure most of it is food. I’ll dive first and take Sol’s rope through. You guys just have to pull yourselves hand over hand along the rope. It’ll lead you down and back up.” He looked at Marla. “Easy, right?”
She gave a weak smile and nodded.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Sol threw the rope to Aston while everyone else busied themselves organizing essentials to take through. Aston realized his hands were shaking as he tied one end of the rope around a sturdy stalagmite at the lake’s edge. Was he leading them all to their deaths? Perhaps it would be better to die violently but quickly, swarmed by the mantics here, than risk a slow, miserable death of starvation elsewhere. But he couldn’t think that way. He had to believe there was another way out, a better option than starving or becoming something else’s food. He put the coil of rope over his shoulder and slipped into the strangely lukewarm water of the pool. Taking three long deep breaths, he held the last and dove. The door was still there, not the figment of his imagination he had briefly feared. He pulled himself through, feeding out the rope as he went, then up the short passage. His heart hammered as he surfaced in the pool on the other side, eyes scanning left and right in the soft green glow, expecting a swarm of mantics to descend on him. But the cave was empty, silent and calm, gloomier than the larger cave with the halogens. Easier for mantics to enter, but he decided to let that thought go for now.
He pulled himself from the water, secured the rope to the nearest strong-looking stalagmite, then dove back in. In moments he was back on the other side with the team, thankful to see the mantics hadn’t braved the bright cavern yet.
“Okay, let’s go. Just follow the rope.”
Marla stepped quickly forward. “Can I go first? Or I’ll lose my nerve.”
Aston nodded and she threw herself in, face scrunched up like she was about to cry. Aston had to admire her. After all, real courage wasn’t a lack of fear. Real courage was being terrified, but doing the thing anyway. “I’ll help Jen through,” he said. “The rest of you, go.”
They found a natural order. Slater followed Marla, then Syed. Sol went next.
“Me and Tate will come last,” Reid said. “You go. I’ll bring the rope in case we need it again.”
Aston nodded, turned to Jen Galicia. “Are you ready?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay. I’m going to free dive with you. This is my job, okay? So don’t worry.” He slipped back into the pool. “Hold me around the neck like you’re riding piggyback, hook your feet around my waist.”
She did as he asked, breathing short, nervous gasps. Her body trembled against him.
He swam into the middle of the pool. “Okay, really deep breath, trust me, and try to relax. Just don’t let go.”
“Okay.”
He felt her lungs fill against him. “Here we go.”
He sucked in a breath of his own and dived down. He went as quick as he safely could, careful to get low enough that he didn’t scrape her on the door or the roof of the short passage. She gasped as they surfaced in the new cave, the others watching anxiously from the edge. By the time Aston had carried Jen to the solid ground, both Tate and Reid had come through, the latter coiling the rope as he went. He untied the other end and Sol put it in his pack.
“Everybody okay?” Aston asked.
“Considering the circumstances, yeah.” Slater smiled, but her eyes were pained.
He couldn’t blame her. He figured everyone else must be feeling something akin to his own fears, the foremost among those a sense of crushing claustrophobia. Had they just trapped themselves in a deep and twisting underground tomb?
“Let’s just take an inventory of weapons and ammo,” Reid said. “We need to start being a lot more frugal with our usage.”
“I’ve got Gates’s assault rifle with a nearly empty clip,” Aston said.
Reid nodded. “Tate and I ha
ve what’s left in the clip and one more each. We both have a sidearm, two clips for each.”
“I’ve got Gates’s pistol,” Slater said. “But it’s empty.”
Reid handed over one spare clip for her. He patted the pistol at his hip. “I’m keeping what’s in here.”
“Fair enough.”
“That it?” Reid asked.
Sol held up his own two pistols. “I switched out clips when we got to the green cavern. These are both full, but that’s all I have.”
“Jesus.” Reid pursed his lips. “We’re not in a good way here.”
“But there’s nothing we can do about it,” Sol said. “Okay. Let’s move on.”
Only one passage led from the cave, and they headed for it, big Terry Reid up front. The rest followed, with Ronda Tate covering their six. The passage curved gently left and right a couple of times, then quickly opened out into a huge space. They all stopped dead in stunned surprise.
“Oh, my God,” Aston said.
28
Digby O’Donnell worked his way deeper into the realms of the persistent voice. He knew he was descending, and cared little for how far he might be led, as long as the mystery of the voice revealed itself in the end. He held the glowing idol close to his chest, hugged against him like he protected it, and followed its insistent pull. The skin of his hands blistered and peeled, but he paid no mind to the pain.
The whispering cajoled him, sometimes muttering his name, sometimes words of a language mysterious and barbed. He longed to understand the things that sounded like gibberish, he knew great knowledge lay in those entreaties, but they meant nothing to him. His frustration grew.
Tiredness dogged every step, sleep tugging at the edges of his consciousness. He should stop, rest. When was the last time he slept? No matter, there were more important things than sleep, even if exhaustion did make his vision blur. He staggered, tripping on the uneven ground, and went heavily onto one knee. Pain barked up his leg from the impact, but he held the idol tight. As he sucked in a breath and stood again, his mind seemed to shatter and escape his body. He cried out, sudden disorientation making him nauseated, then he saw another passage, as though looking through someone else’s eyes. Or something else. The vision was clearer than any snippet he had sensed before, then it fractured into dozens of repeats, a kaleidoscopic view of swirling imagery. He drew in breath again, tried to process what he saw, and the pictures in his mind changed, then changed again, rapid variations. He saw dark tunnels, scant bits of green light, barely noticeable to human eyes, but painful to this view. More than enough for him to scurry along, trying to find the peace and comfort of darkness. He hated the light, no matter how faint, every striation of bright green like a tiny pinprick to his eyes.
