A New World 10 - Storm (24 page)

As we near the intersection, I pick up the faint smell of kerosene. It’s not much, but it’s there nonetheless. I pause and sniff. It could be from the lantern that Greg knocked over on his last trip, but it seems too fresh. I take another step and freeze. I hear a faint scraping sound, like metal against rock.

“Fuck,” I hear a whispered voice. “I hate this fucking place.”

“Calm down. We don’t have that much longer,” another voice quietly says.

“I can’t take this any longer. I’m heading out tomorrow.”

A light suddenly flares out of the branching tunnel.

“Come on, man. Sit down, you’ll feel better when we don’t have to watch the door,” the second voice states.

“Bah, screw that.”

The shadow of a figure stretches across the floor and up the far wall of the cave we’re standing in. Pressing close to the entrance of the branch, the shadow elongates, which means either the light is receding or someone is approaching. Footsteps across the rock surface grow louder, giving me a good indication that it’s the latter.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck
, I think, watching the shadow get larger.

I glance behind to see that the rest of the team has also noticed and are pressed tight against the rock wall. Should whoever is nearing step into the tunnel, we have no choice but to take action. I have no idea what lies around the corner but it’s better to strike with the initiative. We can’t afford to allow our presence to become known, especially as there’s no way of telling how many may be deeper within. With what we came across at the crosses, there isn’t an issue about taking this group down, but we have to maintain the element of surprise. I give a nod to Greg and motion a plan.

Looking back, I lower my carbine and silently draw my knife. My heartbeat thuds loudly in my ears. I take in a deep, calming breath, turning my head so the plume of my breath doesn’t extend across the entrance. The chill is pushed into the back of my mind; the only thing prevalent is the sound of someone approaching and the feel of my knife in my hand.

The dark end of a flash suppressor appears, pointed downward; then, the toe of a boot. The shadow on the floor and wall moves as another step is taken. I crouch slightly, my weight centered on the balls of my feet. I feel the tension emanating from the team behind me. A man steps fully into the tunnel, and stops.

Faint yellow light spills across the rocky floor, illuminating the back of the man’s jeans and denim jacket. A plume of silvery breath escapes from his lips. I am no more than four feet away, pressed against the wall and ready to spring. He is standing sideways to me, which makes a quick, fatal attack more difficult. I remain completely still, not looking directly at him, but still watching for a reaction out of the corner of my eye. He turns away, presenting his back. I spring into action.

In one step, I am directly behind him. Reaching around with my empty hand, I clamp it around his mouth and nose. I place my knee in the small of his back and pull his body toward me, plunging my knife just under the rib cage and deep into his kidney. I feel a heavy expulsion of breath against my clamped hand, his body goes rigid. A small explosion of sound erupts behind. Greg and another soldier brush against my back as they round the corner and enter the branching cave.

Twisting my knife, I take it out and thrust again. Warm blood trickles over my hand, his jacket absorbing most of it.

“You should have left earlier,” I whisper into his ear.

Two quick flashes of light paint our shadows starkly against the far wall. With another twist, the man’s rigid body goes limp. Catching him, I pull my knife out and ease him down. Turning, I see Greg and one other soldier silhouetted against the glow of a lantern sitting on the floor of the cave. At their feet, two bodies lie motionless. Bending to clean my knife on the man’s jacket, I sheath it and motion for one of the soldiers to help carry the body down the cave toward where we entered. Greg and the others join us carrying the other two.

“We need to move quickly, yet quietly, before they’re missed,” I whisper. “One of them mentioned not having to wait much longer, so we can expect company soon.”

“Okay, the cavern where we found them last time is down this tunnel a little ways,” Greg replies.

Leaving another at the intersection to watch our backsides and keep our return route clear, we start down the tunnel. It doesn’t wind much, but the path rises and descends, at times narrowing so we can barely squeeze through. The cold returns to the forefront as we make our way through the cave, feeling its chill with each step as my clothes come into contact with my skin. With my M-4 held ready, I take a few steps, pausing to listen before moving on, hearing nothing but the soft shuffling of those behind.

Before long, I see a glow ahead, its flickering light outlining the cave. I stop and look for a silhouette of someone keeping watch. Unless they’ve mastered the art of invisibility, there’s no one ahead. I feel sand under my boot as I slowly inch forward, the end of the tunnel growing larger with each step. A soft murmuring comes from somewhere within the cavern we’re approaching and I fully expect to see a sudden silhouetted figure stepping into the entrance. From the moment we entered, everyone we encounter is considered hostile. If someone comes into view, I’ll have no choice but to immediately drop them.

Stalactites encrusted with dirty ice hang overhead. I inch ever closer to the opening, my finger caressing the trigger guard and my thumb rubbing along the selector switch. The murmuring increases until it becomes a chorus of voices. I can’t make out any words, but it seems like one person talking with others periodically responding. I’m against the wall to present less of a target should someone suddenly materialize ahead.

I kneel at the exit of the cave where it opens up. Shadows dance against the walls in the flickering light. The cavern bends to the left and rises slightly. A sudden shout of voices causes me to tense, my M-4 instantly against my shoulder. The sound diminishes and a single voice rises above the clamor. I know the layout from Greg’s description; just around the corner should be an alcove where they kept the prisoners manacled to the wall. The niche should be hidden from the rest of the cave.

Taking my mirror out, I ease it around the corner near the floor. Angling it, I see two darkened shapes kneeling at the recess, their attention focused toward whoever is speaking. They are staggered, one behind the other. Turning to Greg, I pull him close and whisper in his ear.

“Two guards, kneeling and looking away. I’ll wait for the next escalation of noise and take them out.”

Focusing again to the front, I watch our neighbors, who remain focused on whatever is going on out of view. The speaker’s voice rises to a crescendo, bringing a roar from others. Dropping the mirror, I lean out around the wall, bringing my carbine up. Centering my small crosshair on the nearest target, I squeeze the trigger. A quick strobe of light fills the alcove, the sound of the shot hidden below the din. The round connects with the man’s ear. A small splash of blood explodes from the impact as his head rocks to the side. He slumps silently over, brushing against the man in front.

Shifting my sight, I center in on the next, hoping the uproar in the cavern beyond continues. I catch him as he’s turning his head, a flash of light signaling another projectile on the way. The bullet slams into his cheek, tearing a hole in the soft tissue before exploding out the other side in a spray of red mist and teeth. My next round hits in the corner of his eye, ripping into the brain. The bullet slams into the rear of his skull. The momentum of his turn continues and he flops face forward, hitting the hard surface.

In a rush, I’m around the corner and into the alcove as the clamor fades. In the shadows, dark red liquid slowly flows outward from the two bodies, following the crevices and contours of the rocky surface. Shadows continue to dance against the rough-hewn walls, contributing to the macabre scene. Inside the niche, three people are chained to the wall, each one seated on the hard ground with their heads bowed. They appear either dead or near to it, my motion should have drawn their attention. Greg and the three other soldiers fold into place slightly behind me. Pulling one of the bodies to the side, I ease onto my stomach and feel Greg’s hand on my shoulder. I turn.

He leans forward and whispers. “What about them?”

“No time at the moment. We’ll have to see about them after we figure out what’s up ahead,” I state.

He releases my shoulder and I crawl forward, inching toward a small rise that will give me a view into the larger part of the cavern. Reaching forward, my hand lands in a warm pool of blood. I pull myself through small pools of cooling liquid left from the removed body. Near the corner of the alcove, I peek over the crest.

Ahead, down a sloping incline that reaches a large, flat area of the cavern, a group of people stand around a lone man. His voice echoes off the rock walls, but I pay little attention to what is spoken, instead trying to obtain an accurate count of those gathered. It’s difficult to see them all from my vantage point, but there appear to be about twenty.

How many could the company chasing Greg have taken out if there’s still this many here?
I think, inching back.

“How are the prisoners?” I ask.

“They’re alive but not very responsive. They look dehydrated and malnourished, so I’m not sure if it’s that or if they’ve been drugged,” Greg answers.

“Well, there’s not much we can do about them right now, unless we decide to cut and run.”

“No, I did that before and it didn’t turn out well,” Greg says.

“Okay, there’s around twenty of them ahead and they’re gathered close together. You wouldn’t happen to have a flash bang in those magic pockets of yours, would you?” I query.

“Are you seriously thinking about tossing a flash in here?” Greg replies.

“Yeah, it crossed my mind,” I answer.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. We’re in an underground, rock cavern. It’ll affect us just as much as them,” he whispers fiercely.

“But we’ll be ready for it…big difference,” I respond.

Greg expresses hesitance.

“Look, we’ll crawl back to the tunnel entrance. The way the cavern is shaped, it will limit the sound,” I comment.

“What about them?” Greg asks, nodding toward the three chained to the wall.

“I don’t think they’re going anywhere,” I comment.

Seeing his incredulous look, I continue. “I’m only partially kidding. The alcove will shield them. At worst, they’ll get a case of tinnitus. You know as well as I do that, if they do react, it’s hard to tell what they’ll do in a disoriented state. They might mistake us for them,” I say, nodding toward the crowd over the rise. “Even in their weakened state, they could cause trouble.”

“I know. I’m just thinking of the others,” Greg states.

I really don’t have much else to say, so just squeeze his shoulder. “So, about that flash bang?”

Greg reaches to one of pouches attached to his vest, and produces a black cylinder.

“See, despite what everyone else says, you are handy to have around,” I state, taking the grenade. “Okay, back to the tunnel.”

Who knows how long the man will continue to orate, so back at the entrance, I brief quickly. “When we enter, fan out at the crest. Keep flat, as there are bound to be ricochets. The two on the far ends will watch for runners. Greg, you watch for anyone emerging from the opposite cave. Let’s make this fast and easy.”

Pulling the pins, I lean around the corner and toss the cylindrical grenade over the rise, quickly ducking back. The sound of the man orating rises above the plink of the flash bang landing. Seconds later, the cavern is rocked by an explosion of noise and light. The walls light up in a stark white flash. Almost before the flash fades, I round the corner, racing the short distance to the crest. I throw myself flat on the rocky floor, my vest taking much of the impact. I hear the others dropping into place on either side.

Ahead, men are reeling in confusion from the explosion, staggering against each other as they try to orient themselves. I sight in on the middle of the group and begin placing bursts into their midst. More fire joins, dropping those in the rear of the group. I shift my aim from one standing person to the next, pulling the trigger and watching the rounds hit. Men fall on top of each other as if a scythe were sweeping through them. Several try to stagger away to the sides but are cut down. Blood splashes out from the forceful impacts of bullets colliding with flesh, the color hard to see in the flickering yellow light. Screams of pain echo off the walls of the cavern.

Five carbines firing bursts into a massed group of twenty quickly does the job. In seconds, it’s over. The last man is driven to the ground, rounds peppering his chest on the way down. A few desultory shots follow before stopping altogether. In the aftermath, moans from the wounded rise from the mounds, several of whom are attempting to crawl away from the carnage. Some cry out in their pain.

“Let’s finish this,” I say, hating this next part.

I take aim at one man crawling across the cavern floor on his elbows. Firing once, I see the bullet strike the side of his head. He collapses to the ground. Single shots ring out, and when it’s finally over, an eerie silence follows. Only the wavering light and crackling from a large fire remains.

“Everyone all right?” I call out.