by Tom Pawlik
The face moved still closer. Large, moist nostrils undulated as they sucked in the scent. Cautious, translucent eyes peered in directly at Jack. Suddenly the face reared backward. Jack cringed as the N’watu thrust one of his hands into the bone pile. He knew his life was over; this human monster was going to yank him out by his hair.
But instead of grabbing Jack, the N’watu pulled his hand back again with a softball-size beetle wriggling in his grasp.
The insect’s legs clawed at the air as the N’watu held it up to the lamp, inspecting it with his ghostly, colorless eyes. Then his lips parted, revealing a mouthful of discolored, crooked teeth. He sank them into the beetle’s soft underside with a sickening crunch and tore off a stringy chunk of its innards. The beetle squealed, flailed its legs, and went limp as the N’watu chewed as casually as if he’d bitten into an apple. The tip of a leg protruded from between his lips.
Jack had all he could do to fight his gag reflex.
The N’watu took a second bite, ripping out more meaty guts and a couple more legs, crunching on them with ghastly relish. He polished off the remainder of the bug in two bites, wiping out all the juicy remnants from the inside of its shell and sucking them off his fingers like a kid cleaning the last drops of ice cream out of a bowl.
He tossed aside the beetle’s outer shell and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. Then he looked around the cavern once more before climbing up the rope ladder, carrying Rudy’s shredded jacket with him.
Jack could hear the N’watu arguing on the ledge above him for several minutes. He tried again to determine how many of them there were altogether, but he couldn’t be sure.
The discussion continued as the rope ladder drew up out of sight, followed by the lantern, leaving Jack engulfed in darkness. In minutes, the voices faded as the N’watu moved off down the tunnel.
Jack closed his eyes, still afraid to move but too afraid to stay where he was. Then he heard Ben’s voice calling softly to him from out of the darkness.
“Jack? Are you here?”
Jack breathed a sigh. A wave of relief washed across his mind.
“I’m here,” he said and began digging his way out of the bone pile. “Where are you?”
A light flicked on in the darkness. Jack could see it sweeping across the chamber as he pulled himself free of the heap. He crawled out, onto the cold mud-and-gravel floor, and lay on his belly. He didn’t care about the cold or the mud. He was just glad to be free of those bones—the remains of people who’d once been living, breathing souls like himself, but who had each most likely died horrible deaths, like Rudy. He could almost hear their screams and shrieks of terror in his head.
Gravel crunched underfoot, and Jack opened his eyes to see Ben standing over him, shining the flashlight in his face.
“You okay?” Ben said.
Jack nodded. He was struggling through the numbing shock of Rudy’s death. But he also knew he was on the verge of confirming his father’s theory.
Ben helped Jack to his feet. “Was it the N’watu? Did you see them? I was hiding on the other side of the pile. I couldn’t see anything.”
“Yeah, I saw them.” Jack shuddered. “Almost wish I hadn’t.”
“What’d they look like?”
Jack forced his sorrow and shock to the back of his mind as he described the lanky bodies and the disfigured face of the N’watu. Ghostly, pale skin and demonic, colorless eyes. “They almost didn’t look human,” he said. “They were covered with some kind of markings. Tattoos or something—I don’t know. And they looked to be pretty primitive. Although they did have a lantern with them. An old-fashioned metal one. It looked like they’d filled it with the slime we found. Like maybe they use it for their primary light source.”
“All the legends say they were very clever,” Ben said. “They made good use of their resources.”
Jack flashed his light to the ledge. He was quiet for a moment, trying to determine what to do next. They couldn’t very well stay down in this pit. Not with the spiders still lurking about. Their best option seemed crazy on its face, but Jack decided it might be their only one.
“I think we should follow them,” he said. “Try to see where they went.”
“Follow them?” Ben gestured to the bone pile. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but these people don’t take kindly to outsiders.”
“Well, it’s either them or the spiders. What do you feel more lucky with?”
Ben stared at him a moment and then grunted. “That’s like asking if I prefer leukemia or pancreatic cancer.” He sighed and peered up at the ledge. “I hate to admit it, but it’s probably the best chance we have of finding an exit.”
They climbed back up the bone heap and onto the ledge, where they took an inventory of their supplies before continuing. They still had two flashlights, both video cameras, a couple packages of flares and glowsticks, plus a fair amount of food and water. They loaded everything into their two backpacks for ease of transport. Jack also made sure he still had the spider appendage they had found and the specimen of slime Rudy had taken, glowing faintly inside the Ziploc bag. They were too important to leave behind. He had to get them out for someone to study. For Rudy’s sake.
They shouldered their packs and moved slowly into the tunnel in the direction the N’watu had gone. The passage ran thirty yards and then turned to the left. From there it narrowed sharply and wound in a zigzag path that slowed their progress considerably.
They moved in silence. Jack couldn’t stop thinking about the N’watu’s bizarre appearance, and after some time he spoke up. “Y’know, the tattoos they had all over them looked like writing—like the lettering from my dad’s drawing.”
Ben shrugged. “It doesn’t look like any Indian script I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s what’s so weird about it,” Jack said. “That they should look so unique. Typically neighboring tribes would tend to influence each other’s cultures, language, and communication. You’d think the N’watu would have at least some connection—some similarities to the surrounding tribes.”
Ben was silent for several seconds. Finally he issued a pensive grunt. “What if they’re not even human?”
“What?”
“I mean, what if they’re not even from . . . y’know . . . here.”
“You mean aliens?” Jack shook his head. “I don’t think there’s any reason to assume that.”
“You said yourself they didn’t look human. Maybe they’re not. Or maybe they’re some kind of hybrid. There are stories that say the N’watu were descended from a race called the Old Ones that originally came to Earth thousands of years ago from another world. Maybe they even brought those spiders with them.”
Jack’s chest tightened as he wondered what Rudy would have said to that. “Giant alien zombie cave spiders?”
Ben shrugged. “Just a thought.”
They continued on, and Jack—against his better judgment—began rolling that idea around in his head. History was replete with those kinds of stories. Ancient Egyptian, Sumerian, and Indian cultures all had similar themes in their mythologies.
“What exactly do those stories say?” he asked after a moment.
Ben paused in the tunnel. “One of them says that the Old Ones came to Earth and built a huge city or fortress under the mountain. But they were dying. They . . . I don’t know—they had some disease and were all going to die. And for some reason they couldn’t reproduce, so they would take human women to try to preserve their line.”
“So where was this underground city?” Jack said, now intrigued.
Ben shrugged. “I always thought it was here in these mountains. But I don’t think anyone knows for sure.”
They crept deeper into the tunnel until they came at last to a dead end. Ben’s light shone against a smooth black surface. As they moved closer, Jack could see it was made of wood. Rough-hewn wooden planks covered with a sticky black substance. He couldn’t see any indication of how the planks were bound together.
“It looks like some kind of doorway,” Ben whispered, inspecting the perimeter. “The wood is covered with tar or something.”
“Probably to preserve it from all the moisture in here,” Jack said.
Jack was fascinated by the structure. He could see the framework of an imposing doorway—over eight feet tall and four feet wide. The posts, header, and threshold were also formed of timber and covered with the same sticky substance. Around the perimeter was what looked like a gravel-mortar mixture that filled all the gaps between the timbers and the rocky wall of the passage, sealing it off completely. He could only guess what lay on the other side.
Ben patted the wooden surface. “It feels pretty solid. Like they were definitely serious about trying to keep something out.”
“It could be the gateway to their city,” Jack said. “We have to see what’s on the other side.”
Ben shone his light along the edges of the wooden doorway, revealing several markings carved into the wood. Jack could see they looked nearly identical to the marks he’d seen at the entrance to the tunnel and on the N’watu themselves.
“I wish I could translate this,” Jack said. “It’s not pictographic at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Primitive cultures basically use pictures in their written communication. They draw images or symbols to represent objects in the world around them. But as a culture develops over time, their written language usually becomes less picture-based and uses more abstract symbols instead. And this stuff—” Jack tapped the symbols on the wood—“looks like a completely abstract alphanumeric system. That makes it harder to translate, but it’s also indicative of a more advanced culture. At least more advanced than the two guys I saw wandering around here in loincloths.”
Ben stared at the doorway. “So we have no idea if this says ‘Exit’ or ‘Warning: Giant spiders behind this door.’”
“Exactly. And since we didn’t see any other side passages, we can assume our N’watu friends came this way and got through somehow.”
Ben pushed against the timbers, but the door didn’t budge. “You think it’s locked from the other side?”
Jack studied the crease between the door planks and the outer frame. “There’s no handle on this side. I assume it opens inward, but I also don’t see any sign of a hinge system. We can’t even tell if it opens to the left or right.”
“It doesn’t matter if they have it locked or barred from the other side.”
They spent the next several minutes pushing against alternate edges of the door but had no luck. Whoever built this door had definitely constructed it with an eye toward security.
By now, despite everything that had happened, Jack felt a pang of hunger and checked his watch. It was nearly five o’clock, and he had no desire to spend a night in this place. They decided to break for water and food. Once he’d had a chance to sit and think further, Jack hoped an idea or opportunity might somehow present itself.
As he ate, he studied the door, feeling an almost-irresistible compulsion to press on. Now more than ever—not only for his father’s sake but for Rudy’s as well. He’d found evidence that there was in fact a remnant of a lost civilization hidden away in these caves. A barbaric and brutal culture to be certain, but one that might hold untold secrets of the ancient world. And Jack needed to bring it into the light. It was the discovery of a lifetime. It would silence his father’s detractors once and for all. And maybe, in some small way, it might bring Rudy’s death some meaning.
Jack stared at the doorway. After a moment he shone his light along the bottom and crouched down to inspect it more closely. “There’s a little slot cut into the wood here. I wonder if this is some kind of keyhole.”
Ben peered over his shoulder. “Maybe it’s like a garage door and swings up from the bottom. If it’s hinged near the top, it’d be easy to push open from the inside but more difficult to pull it up from the outside.”
Jack leaned back on his heels. “They’d just need to bring some kind of tool with them. Like a handle they can stick inside to pull it up.” He gathered his courage and felt inside the groove. “Yeah, there’s a space here. Do you have something we can wedge in here?”
They searched through their packs, and Ben pulled out one of his C-shaped metal carabiners. He worked it into the groove and twisted it to the side until it wedged into the wood. Then he pulled.
The door swung up toward them easily with only a soft creak.
“It’s lighter than it looks,” Ben said.
As the door swung upward, Jack could see a series of primitive ropes and wooden pulleys on the inside. “Looks like they have some kind of counterweight system rigged.”
“That’s not very secure.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” Jack shrugged. “All it needs to do is keep the giant spiders out.”
The doorway opened onto a narrow passage, so long and deep that their flashlight beams seemed to get swallowed by the black void.
Jack could feel his chest thumping but fought back his fear with a sober determination. He knew the answers he was seeking lay somewhere in the darkness ahead, and that compelled him forward despite his apprehension. “I guess we keep going, then.”
Ben removed his carabiner and let the door close behind them.
Chapter 13
The air felt warmer inside the tunnel, which made sense if this was leading them to where the N’watu were living.
Ben cracked a couple of glowsticks and suggested that they proceed with their flashlights off. No need to attract unwanted attention. Besides, if the N’watus’ eyesight had adapted to the darkness, the lights might prove to be a useful weapon if the situation warranted.
They followed the tunnel, keeping as quiet as possible. Jack found his palms sweaty. Since the N’watu had found Rudy’s jacket, they would probably be wary of additional intruders. Then again, living for generations inside this cave system had most likely given them heightened senses of smell and hearing in order to compensate for the lack of light. For all Jack knew, the N’watu were already watching them.
The passage wound downward, and before long Ben put a finger to his lips, then stuck his glow stick inside his pocket. Jack knew Ben must’ve seen or heard something, so he stashed his stick as well. In moments, Jack could see a soft glow ahead of them. It was just bright enough to outline the walls of the passage.
Ben motioned for them to proceed, and they inched their way down the passage. At the mouth, Jack found himself staring into a large chamber perhaps fifty feet across. Several clay bowls and other pieces of crudely fashioned pottery were scattered throughout the cave, each filled with a copious amount of the glowing slime. The yellowish glow provided enough light to make out some of the main features of the room, though much of it was still concealed in darkness.
But the chamber itself was empty. At least empty of any N’watu, Jack noted. Or more specifically, any N’watu that he or Ben could actually see.
Ben swiped his hand across his throat as if to signal Jack to not make a sound. A moment later he gestured for Jack to follow him. They made their way slowly around the perimeter of the room, staying in the shadows and mostly trying to keep as quiet as possible.
The chamber seemed oddly smooth, as if the N’watu had carved away the floor and walls to enlarge the room. Jack wondered how many generations of this lost tribe had dug and chiseled away at the rock to fashion their living area. What kind of tools had they used? How long had it taken? He also noticed additional markings on the walls, identical to the others he had seen.
Jack wondered if his father had made it this far—if he had discovered the N’watu—or if his body was indeed among the skeletal remains back in the bone pit. Jack’s head reeled from the emotional toll of the last two hours. Who knew how long this tribe had been here? Ben had indicated the N’watu were here long before the Caieche. They could be looking at artifacts and a culture dating back thousands of years.
Ben signaled him to stop
and then tapped his ear. Jack paused to listen. A low sound came from one of the openings leading off the chamber. A soft humming, deep in timbre. It was quiet at first, rising and falling in pitch and growing slowly in volume.
Jack leaned into the tunnel, trying to hear the sound more clearly. Without warning, it picked up in intensity and volume. He could tell it was the N’watu—he could hear multiple voices, though he could not discern exactly how many. It sounded like some sort of chant.
Ben gestured for him to back away from the entrance. “We need to find a way out of here,” he whispered. “It sounds like some kind of ceremony or something. But as long as they’re down that tunnel, we should try heading down one of these others.”
“Which one?”
Ben looked around the cave and then pointed to one of the openings across the way. “That one looks like it leads up.”
They crossed the chamber to the other side, and Jack paused to inspect one of the bowls of slime. They had been situated around the room like little tiki torches lighting up someone’s backyard deck.
They crept into the passage and found that it did indeed angle upward. And after a few yards it also narrowed considerably. Suddenly Ben motioned for him to stop.
The droning chant they’d heard coming from the other passage now seemed to be coming from in front of them again. Ben motioned him closer. “It looks like all these side passages lead to a common chamber. We’ll have to find another way.”
But Jack shook his head. His curiosity was breaking through his apprehension. “Let’s see what’s going on.”
Ben glared at him. “Are you crazy?”
But Jack dug his video camera out of his pack. “I have to see what they’re doing. I have to document it. I need proof.”
He crawled past Ben and within several yards he stopped, crouching low in the tunnel as Ben crept up behind him. They were looking down on a circular chamber much larger than the first and filled with bowls of the luminescent slime. There were at least a dozen N’watu figures throughout the room, crouched or kneeling in awkward positions with their heads lowered, humming a rather dissonant tune. Jack turned on the camera’s night-vision setting and peered at the screen. He could see that the walls were covered with various drawings and writing. It did indeed look like some kind of ceremonial chamber.