Subterranean (15 page)

Ben crossed to her, squatted on his haunches beside her. “What?”

“Shine your light inside. The details are clearer here in this smaller stone.”

“Linda, is this really the right time for this?” he grumbled, but did as she asked.

An escalating excitement hurried her words. “Look at the orbital ridges. They bulge too thickly. And the auditory orifices. They're too low on the skull.” She turned to Ben, her eyes shining. “It's not
human
. Or I should say, not modern man. The size of the brain case does suggest an advanced hominid, but there's too much distortion for me to recognize the species. Ashley needs to see this. She'd know.”

Linda suddenly looked around, voicing Ben's own concern. “What's taking them so long to get back?”

A sudden scream echoed through the cavern. Both Ben and Linda jumped up. Linda sidled closer to him. Ben's heart had climbed into his throat and was caught there. Ashley!

Villanueva already had his pistol raised and stood frozen, his flashlight beam acting as a gunsight. Khalid crossed to Linda, and like a small moon pulled into a different orbit, Linda drifted from Ben into Khalid's shadow.

A second scream. Ben stepped over to Villanueva. “We need to go after them,” Ben said. “They're in trouble.”

“No,” said Villanueva. “We stay here.”

“Are you crazy? They're being attacked!”

The SEAL's face was stone. “No. The scream was far away. Beyond the river.”

“How can you tell for sure? The acoustics in a cave are tricky.”

Villanueva continued to study the darkness ahead. “I'm sure.”

“I don't care. I'm heading out to check on them.”

“If you try to leave, I'll shoot you in the leg.” The casualness in which he said those words suggested he was not joking.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I'm the senior ranking officer here. What I say goes.”

“But—”

“This is the designated rendezvous location. If the others are in trouble, they will head here. We'll give them ten minutes.”

“Then what? Go look for them?”

“No. We head back up.”

“And leave them down here? Like hell I will!”

“Michaelson has the radio. Without him, we have no means of communicating topside. If he's not back in ten minutes, we evacuate.”

Ben stared into the black curtain, beyond which he imagined horrible acts being played out. Ashley running, hiding, pursued by slavering creatures. Ashley mauled and bleeding. He held his breath for most of the ten minutes. To hell with the damned SEAL. If she didn't return . . . he knew how to take care of himself in caves.

Villanueva lowered his arm. The blackness quickly filled the void of his flashlight, greedily reclaiming its lost territory. “Pack up,” he said over his shoulder. “We're heading out.”

Ben shifted from foot to foot, straining to pierce the darkness.

“Let's go, Mr. Brust.” The SEAL pointed with his gun. “Don't make this hard.”

Ben had an idea. “Wait. Everyone turn out your lights.”

“What?” said Linda, a tremor in her voice. “Are you nuts?”

“Just do it. If there's no sign of their lights, then we'll get the hell out.”

Villanueva studied him, squinting warily. “One minute.”

Linda snuggled closer to Khalid as they turned their lanterns off.

The camp was swallowed up by darkness.

It took a few seconds for Ben's eyes to adjust to the blindness, the vanquished camp lights still burning dull flares on his retinas. As these last traces faded, one area persisted, off to the left. His dilated pupils strained to focus. A glowing cave pearl. Then the glow shifted to another cave pearl. Closer. The lights were approaching. “Someone's coming,” Ben said, his voice booming with relief. “They're on their way back.”

Linda said, “Yes, I see it too!”

Villanueva called for lights. The darkness was beaten back by the flaring lanterns. Within minutes, bobbing flashlights could be seen approaching through the darkness. The SEAL still stood with his gun pointed forward. Once the lights were close enough, he yelled, “Stop there! Identify yourselves!”

Ashley's voice came back angrily, “Who the hell do you think it is?”

Then Michaelson's voice: “It's just us, Major. Relax.”

Villanueva lowered his gun.

Ashley stomped into camp, followed by Michaelson, who kept glancing toward the river behind him. “Whose bright idea was it to turn your lights off like that?” Ashley asked sourly. “We were using them as a beacon back here. We thought something happened and started racing back. Almost ran myself right over a cliff.”

Linda pointed a thumb at Ben.

“Just looking for you,” he said, nodding his head toward the SEAL. “After we heard the scream, our mate here was planning on scrambling back topside with our tails between our legs if you didn't show.”

Ashley bristled. “What the hell?”

Michaelson interrupted, a hand raised in the air. “He was correct. We had the radio. They didn't.”

Ben swallowed. “But to leave you . . .”

Ashley rubbed her temples thoughtfully, then nodded. “He's right. Next time, listen to him, Ben.” She brushed past him, scanning the camp. “Okay, under the circumstances, we need to make a decision whether to continue forward or go back.”

Michaelson stepped forward. “I suggest Villanueva and I cross the river to take a closer look while the rest of the camp stays put.”

Ashley shook her head. “No. We stick together. We've already seen what happens when we split up.”

“Then we evacuate,” Michaelson stated bluntly. “I won't risk any more civilians. Halloway knew the risks.”

Ashley scowled. “And what if it was one of us out there
screaming
? Would you be so quick to leave?”

Michaelson remained silent.

“I thought so,” she said. “I think Halloway deserves as much support as any of us.”

Linda spoke up. “Besides, he might just be injured or unconscious. He's been silent since the first screams. We can't leave without at least looking thoroughly.”

Michaelson began to object, but Ashley held up a hand. “Since it's our civilian butts on the line, it should be our decision to continue forward or not.”

Ben and Linda nodded. Khalid merely stared.

“I say we go forward,” Ashley said. “Any objections?”

The others remained silent.

“Fine,” she said. “I want to be across that river in thirty minutes.”

Ashley paced the river's edge. Villanueva had stripped to his underwear and cautiously waded into the oil-black water. A rope tied around his waist draped back to the team at the river's edge. Michaelson had anchored the rope around a stalagmite nearby.

“We could've all swum across by now,” Ashley said. “All this jury-rigging is just wasting time.”

“No,” Michaelson said, looping a knot in the rope. “The current's too strong. If we tried to swim, someone could easily be swept away.”

“Then just tie everyone together with rope.” She didn't understand why he was being so obstinate. Didn't he realize every wasted second could mean Halloway's death?

Ben shook his head and tried to calm her with a smile. “Too easy to get tangled up, my dear. A good way to get someone drowned.”

A loud splash drew her attention back to the river as Villanueva dove beneath the churning water, clearing half the stream before resurfacing. Strong arms cut the water in broad strokes, but still the current propelled the SEAL far downstream.

Linda grabbed Ashley's arm, pinching hard in panic. “Look!”

Ashley followed the biologist's outstretched arm back upstream from where they stood. A three-foot-tall dorsal fin, albino-white, crested the churning waters, then sank back from view.

Ben, openmouthed, had spotted it too. “Jesus Almighty Christ!”

Michaelson, with one hand tangled in the SEAL's anchoring rope, struggled to free himself, but the rope was cinched tight around his midsection. He freed his rifle and tossed it to Ben, who had the easier shot. “Use it. Before the thing reaches Villanueva.”

Fumbling the rifle to his shoulder, Ben searched the water for his target. Then just below them a tip of white broke the surface, and a blast of rifle fire exploded. A small geyser of water erupted where the slug hit the water—a good several feet from the fin. Ben had missed.

“Shit,” said Ben, pumping a second shell. Another miss.

Villanueva, having heard the shots over the noise of the river, had stopped and twisted around to stare at them, treading water. Linda and Ashley waved him toward the far shore. “Go! Get the hell out of there!” Ashley screamed.

The dorsal fin emerged again to its entire yard of height, now slicing the water halfway between the team and the SEAL In an arcing dive the SEAL flung his body toward the far shore, the water churned white by his pumping arms and legs. But the current resisted his progress; he seemed to be wallowing, like a fly in amber. He won't make it to shore, Ashley thought, clenching her fists, willing him strength.

The fin turned smoothly toward the thrashing SEAL.

Ben had raised the gun once more, then lowered it. “Damn it. I don't have a clear shot. At this angle, if I miss I could hit Villanueva.”

Ashley snatched the rifle and raised it to her shoulder. Her first shot tore a chunk out of the fin. She aimed lower for the second shot, below the fin. As she pulled the trigger, the recoil crashed into her shoulder. This time the geyser of water from the shell's impact spurted red.

The fin tilted to the side, then sank from view.

Ashley's teeth ground together; she expected the injured creature to suddenly lurch out of the water and grind up the SEAL. She watched, the rifle butt pressed tight to her shoulder, as Villanueva reached the riverbank and scrambled up the slippery rock. He acknowledged the team's cheers with a wave and marched back upstream.

Ben stepped next to her, taking the rifle from her shaking hands. “I thought you hated guns.”

She rubbed at her hands. “You've got to know something to hate it.”

Ben just nodded, seeming to sense she didn't want to continue this conversation.

She stared across the river. Villanueva had untied the rope from his waist and was rigging his end to a thick stalagmite. Michaelson tugged the slack up and secured his end of the rope to a rock on this side, creating a rope bridge slung between two stalagmites. The two worked as if nothing had happened. As if some creature of nightmare hadn't just tried to swallow up one of their teammates.

The major tested the security of the bridge by tugging at it. Satisfied, he turned to the team. “Now we can cross.”

Taking a deep breath, Ashley steadied her still-pounding heart. Put it behind you, she told herself. There is still a team to lead and a teammate to find.

Using carabiner hooks to attach waist harnesses to the rope, the team scooted hand over hand across the bridge. Dangling from the rope, Ashley was careful not to look down. The drop was not far, but the thought of what else might be lurking under the black reflection of water was paralyzing.

Villanueva, now suited back into his coveralls, helped her unhook from the bridge. His hand shook a bit as he helped her stand. Whether from the cold of the water or from the aftershock of such a narrow escape, she couldn't tell.

“Thanks,” he said quickly, an embarrassed look in his eyes. “I owe you.”

She tried to answer, but he turned his back to her and returned his attention to Michaelson, the last in line, as he crossed over the river.

As soon as the major had set his boots on the rocky edge, Ashley called everyone together. “This section of the cavern is much smaller, so we'll explore this area as a group. Let's head out. Keep your eyes and ears open. Whatever caused those screams may still be out there.”

This search is futile, Khalid thought. He dug black mud from under a fingernail with a small blade. Halloway had to be dead. When would these damned idiots realize it so they could move on?

He watched the SEAL examine the wormhole they had discovered. No trace of the missing teammate had been found. They had searched behind every pebble and down every black crack. Nothing.

“This is no use,” Villanueva said as he shined his flashlight down the wormhole. “No one's been through this hole in years. Look at the layer of mud at the entrance. No footprints or sled marks.”

Ashley crouched at his side and pushed a finger knuckle-deep into the mud. “You're right. If anyone had passed, there would be some sign.” She pushed back up and faced the team. “There's got to be another exit we missed.”

“Maybe,” Khalid said, trying to wake the team up, to get them redirected to the mission at hand. He had an agenda to follow, whether Halloway was found or not. “Maybe he got caught in the river and was washed away.”

Michaelson shook his head. “No. The scream was well beyond the river's edge. I agree with Ashley. There must be another exit.”

Khalid hid a scowl.

“Before we leave here,” Ashley said, “I think we should send someone down this wormhole. Just to make sure. Any volunteers?”

Villanueva pulled out his sled. “I'll go.”

She nodded. “Be careful. Just check out where this exits and come right back. No solo venturing.”

He nodded and slipped into the hole. Ashley checked her watch.

Rolling his eyes at another delay, Khalid walked over to where Linda sat on a rock. She had her arms wrapped tight around her chest as he sat down beside her.

“Do you think we'll find him?” she asked, her voice tiny.

“No. No matter what the major believes, I think he was washed away.”

Linda shuddered. He could tell what she was thinking. The fin had been as white as the belly of a maggot. Like some ghost shark coming to claim their souls. Men and rock he could handle, but the creatures down here . . . first the squid trying to gnaw his arm off and now this monster . . . The sight of that fin had made his flesh crawl. As if Nature were showing them how small they were.