Subterranean (24 page)

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Authors: James Rollins

BOOK: Subterranean
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Villanueva seemed to be losing interest in her revelation. “Uh-huh. I'd still rather just get out of here.”

“Me too, but the fungus explains a lot.”

“Like what?” Villanueva yawned.

“Like why the predators down here still have eyes. Why they camouflage so well with the rock. It was strange why creatures isolated for millennia in perpetual darkness should still have eyes and need to blend into the background. Most isolated cavern species are blind and albino due to the darkness.”

“Hmmm. So what you're saying is that these creatures have been mostly hanging out in lighted areas.”

“Or at least at their fringes.”

“That's good to know. So anywhere there's fungus, there might be predators around.”

“Exactly!”

Ashley noted two things as soon as she exited the newest wormhole. It was getting damned hotter, and the fungus grew thicker and brighter the farther they descended.

They had been traveling for half a day now, stopping only to check the radio periodically. No one ever answered their call.

“We'd better conserve our batteries while we can,” Ben said. “The glow here is sufficient to see by.”

He was right. When all the lights were turned off, she could see just fine. She wiped her brow. The cavern ahead was spotted with bubbling pools of steaming water, the room as hot as a sauna. It reeked of rotten eggs.

Ben offered her a sip from his canteen. “We must be approaching a hot vent of the volcano.”

She nodded. “We need a way
up
. Soon!”

Michaelson called from yards away, “Your wish has been granted, Ashley. There's a crack over here. It's scalable and seems to climb at least a hundred yards up. This may be the break we were searching for.”

Ashley hurried over to him. She would climb a sheer cliff if she could get away from this sulfurous heat. She clicked her flashlight back on and probed the way up. The fissure was craggy, with many handholds and footholds. The top extended beyond her light. Excellent.

Ben approached her side. “There's another wormhole on the south wall. It heads down again.”

“Who cares? We're going this way.”

Ben peered up. “I don't know,” he mumbled.

“What do you mean?” She gave him a perturbed look. “This is perfect.”

“We can't tell where it ends. Who says it ends in a chamber? It may just peter out.”

“Ben, feel the breeze. It practically sucks you up this crack. Didn't you say that meant there were continued passages?”

“I guess so.” His voice was a whisper.

She glanced at him, wondering what he balked at. Surely not the climb. It looked like a piece of cake to her. “Ben?”

He shook his head as if clearing cobwebs. “Of course, you're right. Everyone hook on your quick draws and belaying harnesses. We're going up.”

Ashley stared at the Aussie. She had only known him a short time but already knew his moods. Something was bothering him. “Ben, you're the expert here. . . .”

He fastened his rope in place and approached the rock face. “I'm fine with this. Just had this urge to . . .” He shook his head again. “Hell, never mind. Let's go.”

She watched his left hand jitter as he gripped his first handhold.

Linda woke with a snap, her head pounding. Khalid lay on a mattress nearby, snoring loudly. It was one of his rasping snorts that had startled her. She glanced at her watch. Four hours had passed since the two had retired for a nap after lunch. She glanced at Villanueva. He too was sound asleep.

Odd. She was never one to take naps, let alone allow hours to slip by like that. She sat up and stretched. Of course, the present circumstances were unusual. After running all day yesterday from monsters, her body deserved a rest.

She stood up, and the room spun; pinpoints of light exploded across her retinas. She almost stumbled to her knees, close to blacking out. After a few wobbly seconds, the spinning stabilized. Must have stood too fast, she thought, shaking her head. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, each beat throbbing at her temples. She reached for her canteen and took a deep swallow.

Breathing heavily, she saw something that almost made her drop her canteen. The walls! The smooth-surfaced fungus was now festooned with protruding balls of growth. As she watched, several hundred pods burst, releasing a small puff of smoky dust. Spores! In the lamplight, billowing clouds of spore dust wafted through the chamber. She watched as Khalid inhaled a stream of the smoky air.

This couldn't be healthy. She knelt by Khalid and shook his shoulder. He didn't awaken. She shook him harder. Nothing. She raised his eyelids; his pupils were dilated in the bright light, nonresponsive. Damn, the spores were acting like a drug. Anesthetizing them! She realized that if they kept inhaling the drug, an overdose pended.

The fungus was trying to kill them!

Agitated, her breathing grew ragged. Blossoms of color flared across her sight. The spores! Must remain calm. Must breathe slower. Take in less of the drug. She held her breath. Still the room began to spin again. Think, damn it!

An idea occurred to her. She grabbed a handkerchief and splashed water over it, soaking it. She wrapped the dripping fabric over her mouth and nose. The moistened fabric should filter the spores. At least she hoped it would.

Hurrying, she applied a similar wrap to Khalid's face, trying to prevent him from taking in any more spore dust. Don't you die on me, she thought.

She scooted to Villanueva. For a moment she thought he had stopped breathing. But on closer inspection, she could see his chest rise and fall. Still, his complexion had a blue tinge. Cyanotic. She prepared a third handkerchief and wrapped it around the SEAL's face.

Clenching her fists, she studied him. The SEAL's breathing was ragged and shallow. In his debilitated state from yesterday's attack, he was more susceptible to the drug.

She glanced around. The glowing fungus had dimmed slightly while sporulating, probably to conserve energy for the production of the spore dust. But what had set it off? Their body heat? A change in the level of carbon dioxide from their breathing?

She did not have time to seek answers. Right now she had to get them out of here. But where? There was no telling if the monsters still lurked in the other chamber. And who knew what awaited them if they followed in the other team's footsteps?

Only one thing was certain. If they stayed here, they would die.

She crossed to the wormhole that Ashley and the others had gone down several hours ago. A slight breeze blew up from below, wafting a few blond strands of her hair.

The air was fresher, free of spores.

She made a decision. She would have to drag the two men through this wormhole. If anything threatened beyond, they could at least stay in the passageway. But more importantly, the direction of the breeze should keep blowing the spores clear of the wormhole.

At the thought of hiding for days in the narrow tunnel, a twinge of anxiety threatened, but she squelched it. She turned to the men. It would be difficult hauling them over the rough terrain of the floor. The jumble of diamond made the sleds useless, but once at the wormhole, she could use the sleds to easily maneuver them from there.

She crossed to the two sedated forms. Grabbing the SEAL's legs, she hauled him toward the wormhole, grunting with the effort. After fifteen hard minutes, she had both men in the wormhole, sprawled across their sleds. Her head pounded and sweat stung her eyes. By now she weaved drunkenly as she stood, unsure if from the strain or from the drugged spores.

She splashed her face with more water, readying herself. Holding her breath, she dove into the wormhole, trying to ignore the walls pressing around her, concentrating on maneuvering the men ahead of her. She shoved Khalid's limp form forward, bumping his shoulder into Villanueva's sled, causing the SEAL to roll several yards ahead before settling to a stop.

Bumping her way forward, it was slow progress. But the farther away from the cavern they progressed, the clearer her head became. She stopped for a moment and rested, leaning a cheek on her arm. She had done it! The air was clear here.

A groan arose from Khalid. He was waking. She allowed herself a weary smile. Only a vague sense of unease because of the closely surrounding rock intruded on her satisfaction. But it was only that of a buzzing gnat, not the usual panicked roar. No, the enclosing grip of the tunnel had lost its hold. She had saved them.

Ashley followed Ben's lead, placing her hands and feet where he placed his. Her fingers stung and her thighs screamed. The fungus growing on the walls made the grip slippery, but at least the farther they climbed, the less prevalent the fungus was. As they progressed, they eventually had to turn on their helmet lamps. With the disappearance of the mold, the perpetual darkness had crept back to smother them.

Michaelson followed, pushing her over some of the rougher spots.

She watched Ben jam a quick-draw bolt in a crack above and secure a loop of rope. He was humming roughly under his breath as he worked. After two hours of climbing, she was sick of that tune.

“Ben,” Michaelson called from below. “How much farther?”

“'Bout another hour.”

Ashley groaned, leaning her face into the rock.

Ben continued, “But there appears to be a wide ledge about ten yards up. We should be able to take a lunch break before we challenge the last leg of the climb.”

Grasping that small hope, Ashley thanked the gods of climbing. “Then let's get up there, Ben. I'm tired of hanging around here.”

She watched Ben reach for a handhold and pull himself upward. “You wanted to come this way,” he said in good cheer. “I was the one who wanted to go the easy way, so quit your bellyaching.”

At least his initial trepidation had seemed to fade as the strain of the climb progressed. The first hour of the climb had been easy, but it was only a warm-up for the nearly vertical climb they had been struggling with for the last hour.

Ashley stretched up to secure her hand on Ben's previous foothold. She couldn't quite reach. She searched for an alternate hold on the sheer face. Only a blank wall faced her. Damn. “Ben, I can't get past this point,” she called, trying to hide her increasing panic.

Ben glanced down at her. “No problem, Ash. Just let go. I'll haul you with the rope to the level of the next quick draw. Then you can reestablish your holds. I've got good leverage here.”

She swallowed hard. Common sense kept her clutched to the wall.

He winked down at her, seemingly reading her mind. “I won't drop you.”

Embarrassed by her doubts, she willed her hands to let go. The carabiner brakes held her in place as she hung from the rope, swinging away from the wall and out over the hundred-yard drop. Suddenly she jerked upward as Ben's arms pulleyed rope through the quick draw.

In two pulls, she was hauled next to him, still swinging a couple feet from the wall. He held his hand out to her. She reached for him. His fingers slid across her palm before gripping her hand. His eyes never left hers as he pulled her toward him. He held her waist steady, his palm hot through her damp T-shirt, as she planted her feet and gripped the wall.

“Thanks, Ben.”

“Anytime, love,” he whispered in her ear, then brushed her cheek with his lips.

She blushed and glanced away. “We'd . . . uh . . . better get going. Michaelson's waiting.”

He turned back to the wall and continued. She watched him climb with the ease of a mountain goat, his legs spread wide. She had to force her eyes away before she could continue, her cheeks still flushed.

Within ten minutes, all three were sitting on the ledge, sipping warm water and chewing on jerky and dry cheese.

Ben sat close to Ashley's side, his leg brushing hers. They ate in silence, all of them exhausted. Michaelson seemed lost in his own thoughts.

Finally, Ashley dusted crumbs off her lap and pushed to her feet, her leg muscles wobbling. Planting her fists on her hips, she glanced up the pocked slope. Thankfully, it was a short, easy grade. If she had to climb another vertical wall, she'd need at least a day's rest.

Ben stood up beside her. “Ready?”

She nodded.

“Okay,” Ben said, “then let's cinch up and head on out.” He grabbed the bundle of climbing rope and hooked her to him. He stood close as he knotted her up, then leaned toward her. “Sometime we're going to have to try this when we're not rock climbing,” he said with a jaunty grin.

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. “Let's get going.”

Whistling that damned tune again, Ben tackled the slope. Ashley followed. For a good part of the ascent, she found she could simply walk, only needing to crawl over short sections of the climb. Near the very top, though, the climbing became tricky again. Footholds and handholds had to be searched for carefully, each yard gained only with planning and muscle.

Sighing, Ashley glanced up, wondering if they would ever escape this damn crack. She watched Ben suddenly heave himself up and roll out of sight. He had reached the lip of the cliff! With renewed energy, she followed, scrambling from handhold to handhold.

Suddenly Ben's face popped over the lip, only feet from her. He wore a huge smile. “C'mon. What's keeping you?”

“Just get out of my way,” she said with a matching smile.

He reached down and hooked a hand into her harness.

“I can manage on my own. Just—”

He yanked her up to him, kissing her squarely on the lips, then rolled backward, hauling her over the edge and on top of him.

She laughed convulsively as she lay sprawled across his chest. Relief at finally surmounting the cliff washed over her. Ben's nose was only inches from hers. But he wasn't laughing—only staring into her eyes. His seriousness sobered her.

There was a hunger in his stare, a desire she had never seen so openly offered. And in his eyes, a question. As she stared, her laughter died in her throat. Restraining for only a heartbeat, she answered his question, leaning down and returning his kiss, at first gently, then with a passion that had been too long suppressed.

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