Subterranean (45 page)

His next words were acid: “Your word is shit.”

She remained silent.

Jason saw Khalid grab two handkerchiefs and come toward him. He tried to shy away, but the ropes held him tight. Khalid shoved the heel of his hand into Jason's forehead, pinning the back of his skull to the rock column. He then balled up one of the handkerchiefs and forced it into Jason's mouth. Before Jason could try to spit it out, he secured the gag with the second handkerchief.

By now, Linda was grabbing at Khalid's arm. “Leave him alone!”

Khalid elbowed her away, finishing his knot. “I don't want this brat screaming as soon as we leave. It could draw those creatures back.” He pointed at Jason's belt. It now read 116. “We're wasting time.”

Linda knelt by Jason. He tried to remain calm. She touched his cheek. “I'll be back. I promise.”

He nodded, forcing back the tears that threatened.

She hugged him tight until Khalid pulled at her shoulder. “Now!”

Linda stood, and with a final squeeze on Jason's shoulder, she turned and followed Khalid. Jason watched them disappear out of sight behind him, then listened as their footsteps faded into the darkness. He was alone.

With his helmet lamp slicing a path forward into the blackness, Ben led the way across the empty cavern floor, heading for the lights of Alpha Base. He was careful to stop frequently and listen. Even though he could not see them, he knew the three
mimi'swee
hunters, armed with knives and spears, had fanned out to either side, watching for any signs of the
crak'an
. They moved without lights and were as silent as phantoms. The only thing Ben could hear was the scrape of Harry's boots on the rock behind him.

Ben switched his pistol to his other hand and wiped his palm on his trousers leg. The fires had heated up the cavern and the pall of smoke made it difficult to breathe. He licked at his cracked lips and removed his canteen, flipping the top with his thumb. Careful to no more than wet his mouth, he took a quick swig, then whispered to Harry, “I expected lots of those monsters to be still around.”

“Maybe the heat and the smoke are keeping them away.”

“I don't like it. This is just too damned easy. One thing I've learned when things look fine—shit happens!”

Harry shrugged. “Be careful what you wish for, buddy.”

A noise to the right drew their attention. “It's Nob'cobi,” Harry said. “C'mon. He's found something.”

Ben followed Harry's bouncing lantern across the uneven floor. Nob'cobi was crouched by a steaming pile of dung. He had a fistful of it in front of his nose. He turned to Harry and spoke in hushed tones.

Harry translated. “He says it's fresh.”

“Well, that's good.” Ben crinkled his nose at the odor. “I'd hate to think it had spoiled.”

“He estimates it's less than an hour old. There's other spoor too. He's guessing that it's a group of at least five of them. Two of them male.”

“He can tell all that from sniffing shit?”

“It's their job.”

“What should we do, then? Circle away from them?”

Harry knelt and conversed in whispers with Nob'cobi. The other two hunters stood yards away, scanning the periphery, ears twitching forward and back. Finally Harry stood and returned to Ben. “The plan is to follow the group. They seem to be aiming for the base. The
crak'an
travel in tight pods. As they march, any stragglers they encounter will either join the pod or be killed by them. So the wake of this pod should be relatively free of stray beasts.”

“Yeah,” Ben mumbled, kicking at the pile of damp spoor, “but if they turn back this way, we become
crak'an
shit ourselves.”

Khalid watched Linda closely, making sure she set the wires correctly. Good. She was learning. This was the ninth charge. She had set the last three after he demonstrated with the first two. This time, her hands hardly shook.

As he finished his charge, he watched as she furtively glanced at her watch. He knew it was still another hour before Jason's timer ran out, and with only six more charges to set, they were making good time. “Now push the yellow button on the transceiver,” he said to her, pointing over her shoulder. “Good, now it's activated and awaiting my signal.”

As they neared the base, Ben could see the pod of
crak'an
through the darkness, their triangular heads and bristled crests outlined by the lights of the camp, now just yards away.

The pod totaled seven—two more had joined the group during the hour of travel to the base. Led by the larger of the two males, the pod of females traveled in a loose array, or “harem,” as Harry described it. The smaller male, nicknamed “Tiny Tim,” trailed them. He seemed to be guarding the pod's backside and frequently turned and ventured a ways behind the pod. He seemed to sense that something was amiss, frequently whirling back, scenting the air behind the group.

“Edgy son of a bitch,” Harry whispered in Ben's ear as he crouched behind a boulder next to him.

Ben nodded, wary of even speaking, fearful of attracting the beast's attention. The journey had been tense. During the trek, the pod had encountered a solitary belligerent male. It was attacked by the group in a sharklike frenzy and torn to meaty ribbons.

Remembering the sight, Ben shivered. Out here in the middle of the open cavern floor, there were few places to hide. If they should attract the pod's attention . . . He shook his head, forcing the image from his mind.

He peeked around the boulder. He could see that the pod was just now entering the periphery of the base, fading into the shadows of the remaining buildings.

“It's clear,” Harry said softly, waving to the trio of
mimi'swee
hunters. “Let's go.”

Ben stood from his crouch and stepped to follow Harry. As he rounded the boulder, his foot slipped in an unseen hole and he fell. As his pistol struck the rocky floor, he saw the flash of muzzle fire from its barrel, and an explosive shot rang out across the cavern.

Christ, Ben thought, so much for a quiet entrance.

He watched as a reptilian snout reemerged from the shadows of the base ahead, darting back and forth, searching. Tiny Tim stepped back out into the light.

Jason squirmed in his ropes as the gunshot echoed across the cavern. He chewed at his gag, but he couldn't even move his tongue, and breathing through his mouth was all but impossible. He pulled deeply through his nose, panicked that he couldn't get enough air. Around him, shadows danced in the flickering light.

His first thought was that Khalid had shot Linda, and his heart pounded in his chest. Then a volley of gunfire from an automatic weapon echoed across the cavern. It wasn't Khalid! He struggled again with his gag. Maybe he could work free of it, call to whoever it was for help.

More gunfire erupted.

Was it coming closer? He listened. Blood thundered in his ears, making it hard to judge.

More blasts.

Yes! He struggled more frantically. Then a thought occurred to him and he froze.

What were they firing at?

Ben slammed into the entryway of one of the few concrete buildings still standing. Nob'cobi pounced in behind him, breathing hard. A quick scan revealed the building to be a dormitory—cots lined both walls. But Ben ignored the room and took a quick peek back out the entryway. He saw the tail of one of the
crak'an
disappear around the far corner.

Good. Luckily, it had been one of the slower females that had pursued them. A few quick moves and they had lost her. But what about Harry? Had he made it to the base?

Volleys of automatic fire flared to the south.

Ben clenched a fist. Okay, at least he was still alive and fighting. He considered his options, rubbing at his forehead. He could try to make it to Harry, but it would be damned difficult to find him. Or he could try to get to Blakely's office and retrieve the statue. That was the wisest plan, but he hated leaving Harry and the other hunters on their own.

Still, what could he do? His one pistol would be little help. No, he'd just have to hope Harry and the others could manage. Besides, Harry knew the base well and knew where Ben would be heading.

He pushed open the door of the building, leaned out, and took a moment to get his bearings. Spotting the elevator shaft off to the left, and the lake just past a set of trampled tents, he centered himself. Okay, he knew roughly where he was. Blakely's office was less than half a mile away. That's if the bridge spanning the gorge that split the camp was still intact. If he had to circle around the huge crevice, then it would be more like two miles. And with those bloody
crak'an
creeping around, he wanted the shortest route possible.

Taking a deep breath, he waved Nob'cobi to follow. The small hunter, clenching a spear longer than his own body, followed. Ben led the way, sticking close to shadows and ducking from hiding place to hiding place.

As Ben inched across the base, he heard periodic bursts of gunfire. He stopped and listened, biting his lower lip. The shots were getting farther and farther away. With all the hiding places available, Harry should have been able to lose the bastards by now.

He glanced at Nob'cobi. The hunter leaned casually on his spear shaft, his lids half-closed, scratching at his bare backside. Why was he so freakin' calm?

Again five shots rang out—even farther away now.

Then it dawned on Ben. Harry was purposefully firing off rounds, drawing the beasts away, leaving the way open for Ben to get to the office.

He looked at Nob'cobi. He nudged the
mimi'swee
hunter. “You knew that, didn't ya, bub? C'mon.” He increased the pace, counting on Harry to lure the
crak'an
astray.

Now moving quicker, Ben reached the gorge in two minutes, but stopped when he saw the bridge. Or at least where the bridge used to be.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered. “Can't anything go right?” All that was left of the bridge was a couple of broken spars jutting a few feet across the gorge, leaving a black gap of empty space. He eyed the span. At least thirty feet. Much too far to jump. They would have to walk—

He jumped at a loud crash behind him. Whirling around, he turned to see one of the
crak'an
lunge from between two buildings into the cleared area in front of the gorge. It was Tiny Tim, and he blocked the only way back to the maze of buildings and tents. The creature hissed and stalked forward.

“So, you little bastard,” Ben said, backing away as he raised his gun, “you weren't fooled by Harry.” He pointed his pistol and fired.

The creature shied away from the noise and pawed slightly at its neck. Ben could see the trail of blood oozing from the wound. He had hit the target, but the bullet hardly seemed to faze the thick-skinned beast. It stalked toward him.

Nob'cobi darted behind Ben as he fired. The shot went wild, but the noise stopped it. The
crak'an
paused warily, eyeing its prey.

Damn, you could almost see the bastard plotting. Ben backed another step. The edge of the gorge was now only a few feet behind him. He turned to tell Nob'cobi to make a run for it while he distracted the beast, but no one was behind him. Nob'cobi was already gone. Then he saw the small hunter balancing on the spar of the bridge a few yards away, tying a rope to the remains of a lamppost. What was he doing?

Ben turned his attention back to his adversary. The beast just cocked its head back and forth, staring at the pistol as if weighing its danger.

Ben's foot skidded on the slippery rock as he backed another step. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Nob'cobi had backed off the bridge and stood an arm's length away from Ben. “What are you—”

Before Ben could finish, Nob'cobi ran toward the damaged bridge. My god, thought Ben, he's gonna try to jump it. It was bloody suicide. He watched as Nob'cobi raced down the single thin spar as if he were running on solid ground. At the last moment, the small hunter brought his long spear forward and jammed the blunt end into the spar and vaulted upward, flying across the empty air. He landed in a roll on the far side of the gorge.

Ben noticed for the first time the loop of rope wrapped around Nob'cobi's waist. The length of climbing rope now trailed across the gorge to where the tiny hunter had secured it to the lamppost.

A roar drew his attention back around. Tiny Tim stared across the gorge at his escaped prey, obviously angered at his loss. Now those black eyes fixed back on Ben. He could almost see the smile spread on its lips, exposing the full length of its yellowed teeth. It stepped toward him.

Ben, whose gun was still vaguely pointing at the beast's head, realized his chances of a head shot were poor, a kill shot beyond his skill. He lowered his aim toward an easier target, its belly. If he had guessed Nob'cobi's intentions correctly, Ben needed only a few seconds of breathing room.

He pulled the trigger. The shot dug into Tiny Tim's flank, causing the beast to back up a few steps.

Ben didn't wait. He swung around and ran toward the damaged bridge. Just as he had anticipated, Nob'cobi had pulled up the slack in the rope and had secured his end around a post on the far side. Ben now had a rope bridge across the gorge.

Behind him, he heard a roar. It was coming! His feet almost slipped as the traction changed from rock to wood as he reached the broken bridge. His arms out for balance, he darted down the spar and leaped off the end.

He dove for the rope, stretching his arms out as far as he could.

Grimacing, he caught the rope with one hand, wrenching his shoulder as his weight swung down. He flailed for a second, his grip slipping slightly. Then he swung a second hand on the rope. He hung there a second, breathing heavily, shaken.

The rope jerked in Ben's grip. What the hell? He craned his neck around. Tiny Tim rammed the lamppost to which Nob'cobi had secured the rope. If the post went, so would that end of his rope bridge.