by Greig Beck
Together the two men pushed at the wall. After a few moments, Joop stood back and wiped a damp sleeve up over his forehead.
“Are you sure this isn’t just … a wall?”
“No, I’m not sure. But history – and my gut – tells me this stone should pivot. We just need to find the right place to add pressure. These things were cut to a precision that would have put today’s craftsmen to shame.” Matt continued to push, working up and down the block.
“Matt.” Kurt’s voice was soft behind him.
“Just give me a—”
“Matt, it’s never going to happen.” Kurt’s voice rose slightly. “Look up.”
Matt stopped pushing and did as Kurt suggested. Almost imperceptibly, the roof of the cavern was pressing down on top of the stone wall. If the block had pivoted once, it certainly wasn’t going to do it again. Matt’s arms dropped and he turned to lean back against the damp stone. He rested his head there and closed his eyes, letting the air escape slowly through his lips.
Carla ran her hands through her damp hair and made an exasperated noise. “So, now we know why the priests decided to stay.”
“Yeah – no choice.” Megan walked over to Matt and leaned against the wall next to him.
He turned to her. “A tiny earth movement; not enough to bring the place down, and maybe barely more than a trembling beneath their feet. But enough to lower the cavern roof by about an inch, trapping them … and us.”
“Was worth a shot.” She smiled, and reached out to take his hand. “We’re no worse off than when we came in here. Besides, we’re all rich now, right?”
He laughed softly, squeezing her hand in return. “We’re not done yet.”
Matt pushed himself off the wall and turned to face it, his hands on his hips. “You know, the reason these guys chose this spot must have been because it was close to the other side … or at least, close to another naturally formed tunnel that they made use of. In effect, all they did was put a door over it.”
Matt backed up, almost tripping over Joop. He moved to where Megan had been kneeling earlier. “I think you had the right idea; we need to check a few of these out.”
Matt shone his light around the cavern, lighting up two more of the smaller holes. One of them was about four feet in diameter, the others about half that. It’d be a tight squeeze – probably a belly crawl for most of the way. Matt clicked his tongue. Given the humid atmosphere and the damp ground, the exploration promised to be dirty, uncomfortable, and claustrophobic.
He turned. “So, how do we want to do this?”
Kurt seemed to understand exactly what Matt was asking. “Doesn’t make sense to all go into the same tunnel. We should split up – there’s six of us, so a two-person team in each.” He looked at the group. “I’ll go with—”
“I’d like to go with Dr. Mordell, if you don’t mind.” Carla spoke quickly as Kurt’s eyes came to rest on her.
John smiled and nodded to her, beaming with delight. Megan put her arm around Matt’s shoulders, and Kurt shrugged and looked at Joop, his eyebrows raised.
“Picked last – reminds me of my school days.” Joop shrugged and smiled.
Kurt snorted. “Don’t sweat it … I’ll even let you crawl in first.”
The three teams stood together, checking watches. “I call it ten-fifteen am … now.” Kurt waited while they calibrated their watches before continuing. “We head in, proceed for twenty minutes, and then come back to report on what we’ve found. If all three teams find nothing, we rest up a bit, then go back in for a little longer. If, however, we do find something promising, we still report back at the designated time, but we can then concentrate on the one cave. Sound okay?”
They nodded in unison. Megan looked at Matt, a mischievous grin on her face. “Toss a coin?”
“Nope.”
“Arm wrestle?”
“Nope. You want to go first, be my guest.” Matt knew that even if he won, Megan would still find a way to go in first. It was just her nature. Best to save time – and angst, he thought.
“Thank you.” She smiled sweetly.
Carla turned to the doctor. “John, I should go first as well. Only because if I get stuck, you can pull me out. But if you get stuck, you might find yourself staying there.”
He gave a slight bow. “Impeccable logic. I’ll be right behind you.”
Matt looked again at his watch. “Let’s do this.” He turned to Kurt and Joop. “See you in forty.”
Joop gave him the thumbs up. When he turned, Megan was already crawling away from him.
*****
Carla inched along on her hands and knees. It was more than uncomfortable – it hurt. The angle of her body stressed her joints, and the ground was damp and slick, quickly coating her knees, elbows, and hands in slime. The greasy soil smelt vile. She guessed it was rotting moss or lichen, but if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn it was some type of feces. The strange tire tracks were everywhere, although they were obliterated as she dragged her body through them.
Behind her, the tall English doctor came slowly on his belly, puffing and pulling himself along, trying to keep up with her.
She paused. “John, you okay back there?”
After a second or two there was a small cough, then, “Sure, this is great fun. Maybe we can stop for tea and a slice of cake soon?”
Carla laughed. “You English sure know how to enjoy yourselves. And it’s coffee – we Americans like coffee, remember?”
“And we English laugh in the face of danger, didn’t you know?” He coughed again. “I’ll start drinking coffee when you guys learn how to make it properly.”
After a few more minutes of sliding and pulling their way forward, Carla came to a junction in the stone tunnel. Several smaller caves branched away in different directions. She paused and turned her head.
“There are other caves … too small for us.”
“Stick to the main one,” John wheezed from behind her.
“Yup.” She leaned toward one and closed her eyes momentarily, trying to detect the slightest wisp of moving air on her damp cheeks. There was nothing. She angled her light inside, and squinted. A shining object caught her eye and she reached forward, grasping it. She held it up to her light.
“Ha, it’s one of our bird’s feathers … I think. Covered in crap, though.” She turned it over in her fingers; the quill was red. “I guess this is where our speedy little friend went.” She looked back into the small tunnel, angling her light for a better perspective. Farther in, she could see more feathers. A sinking feeling came into her gut. Maybe it got caught on the jagged stone, and knocked some of its feathers out, she thought hopefully.
“Everything okay?” John’s voice was right behind her. It sounded strained.
“Probably.” She flicked the feather back into the cave and wiped her fingers on her sleeve. “Yeah, sure; let’s press on for a bit longer.”
The next offshoot tunnel was just as small, and was again filled with unmoving dead air. However, this time a faint sweetish odor leaked out. Carla concentrated, and was sure she could hear a distant clicking noise, coming from far back in the darkness. She brought the flashlight around and shone it into the cave, hoping there was nothing there. She exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath – empty.
Giving myself the willies. She breathed deeply and wiped her brow with the last clean spot on her forearm, then dragged herself onward.
*****
“You got something?” Matt paused; Megan had come to a halt at a narrowing in their cave.
The answer came back after a few seconds. “Nothing; this place is deader than a dodo.”
Matt laughed softly. “You sure that you want to use that analogy in this place? We might still find one of those.”
Megan looked back over her shoulder and grinned. “Good. Did you know they became extinct because they tasted so damned good? And I’m starving.”
“You’re always eating. I don’t know ho
w you keep your figure.”
“Fast metabolism, and plenty of good sex.” She reached back with her boot and nudged Matt in the shoulder, leaving a streak of the shitty smelling earth. “And that’s the first thing we’re doing when we get out of here … well, maybe after a shower … and some food … and I call my mom. But then, you and I …”
Matt shushed her.
“What is it?” She froze.
“Did you hear that?” Matt asked.
“No, what?” She waited for a few more seconds. “Don’t you dare try to scare me in here, Matt.” Then she heard it as well.
“That sounded like …”
“Carla … screaming – up ahead.”
“Let’s go.” Megan sped forward with Matt right on her boots.
*****
John Mordell inched along behind Carla. He was feeling his age. He glanced briefly at his wristwatch, grateful to see that they only had another few minutes of exploring time before they would head back. He grimaced; unless he could use one of the side caves to turn, he’d be doing it all the way on his belly again, but this time backward. He’d be a wreck, and if Carla was able to turn around and he couldn’t, she’d be staring into his red, agony-racked face the whole way. How undignified, he thought.
As he pulled himself forward, he thought again of the cave they had just passed. The smell emanating from its dark interior still unsettled him. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t remember what. Images of the Congo flashed into his mind from the time he’d administered a malarial outbreak there decades ago. Something about the smell reminded him of the Congo, but what? Just when he thought he had it, the connection danced away.
Carla, with her smaller frame, had pulled ahead a dozen feet, and his flashlight beam wobbled as he tried to maintain his pace. He marveled at the woman – her features, her stamina, and her intellect made her his ideal woman. He’d certainly be asking her out when they got home … or maybe before then. Best not give her a chance to change her mind. He squirmed ahead a little faster, hoping to catch sight of her derrière again.
John stopped dead – his boot was stuck. Odd. Suddenly his lower leg felt like he had just run up against a thorn bush. He rolled to his side and pointed his flashlight back down his body. It felt like the hair actually rose off his head when he saw what was stopping him. There was something attached to his leg – some sort of deep-sea creature. The crustacean’s appearance was compounded by its fire engine-red body, reminding him of a cooked lobster.
As he watched, it inched forward another half foot to just above his knee. He could see now that the plated body was long and segmented, and what he had taken for thorns were actually spiked legs, dozens of them, working in unison to grip, then release, as the creature wormed its way farther up his body. Several pairs of the spiked legs had hold of him at any one time.
He gagged, feeling cold dribble on his chin. He kicked out, hard, with his other leg, but it felt like he had struck hardened ceramic plating – the creature’s exoskeleton was like armor, and his tough boot just glanced off. The thing moved forward another few inches. There seemed to be no eyes, just foot-long antennae that waved and tapped at his legs, as though gently testing for the most succulent portions of flesh. At the bump of his knee, the thing rose up for a moment, displaying mandibles that made his stomach lurch – two needle-sharp pincers on each side of the ten-inch-wide head. But what was between them was worse – serrated mouthparts like a buzz saw.
He kicked again, harder, and then again. The creature reacted this time, burying its pincers deep into his thigh. He screamed, and went to thrash out with the fury of a madman, only to find his other leg gripped in another spiky embrace. Looking down, he saw that a second creature was making its way up his other leg.
“John, John – are you okay?” He became aware of Carla scrabbling back toward him, and then her light was added to his.
Her scream in his ear pushed his own nerves over the edge, and he roared with pain and fear. The first creature pulled its pincers from his leg and crawled forward onto his gut, its sightless head bobbing closer. Numbness was spreading throughout his limbs, and he could see the creature’s mandibles opening as it continued to inch closer to his face.
He looked down briefly, feeling more of the sharp legs on his lower body. As he feared, there were more – many more – of the monsters.
He tried to turn toward Carla. “Get out of here … go!”
The smell enveloped him, and he immediately remembered where he had encountered it before – in the Congo, when treating a tribe at the edge of the forest, one of their makeshift hospital cabins had become infested with giant jungle centipedes. The poisonous creatures could only be cleared out with fire.
“Run.” He didn’t know why he said it – he knew Carla couldn’t run, but he hoped she knew what he meant. Her hand reached for his silver hair, pulling on it. She scurried down, having somehow managed to turn her body around – something he knew he would never have been able to do. She brought her face close to his.
“What can I do, what …?”
One of the creatures scurried up and buried its mandibles into his neck. Another inched closer and passed up over his face, trying to reach Carla. He grabbed at it, hugging the monstrous segments in his arms. He only had strength for another few words now.
“Please … go.”
He dimly heard her scurry backward – she’d be safe. He smiled and shut his eyes, just as something sharp pressed down over his face.
*****
Matt and Megan crawled forward. Their tunnel widened slightly, allowing them to move on their hands and knees instead of their bellies. It was agony on the bony bits of their legs, but at least their progress was better.
“It’s shouting … up ahead. I know it’s Carla.” Megan kept up her speed.
“It must be an echo. We should go back.” Matt still couldn’t work out how Carla could have gotten ahead of them. He navigated around a fallen chunk of stone, and silently prayed that another tremor didn’t occur while they were stuck in this long coffin of rock.
Megan was pulling away. “No way; I’m sure it’s from up ahead.” She started to crawl even faster, her words drifting back over her. “These caves must intersect.”
“Possibly.” Matt had to move faster or he risked losing her. His knees and palms were shredded as he plowed forward. The tunnel was starting to shrink, becoming little more than a pipe of sharp rock. Megan was gone now and his own hoarse breathing blanketed any sounds from up ahead. He squirmed for a few feet, and then … he was out.
He stayed on his hands and knees, sucking in the cooler air, perspiration dripping from his forehead as he waited for the pain in his extremities to abate. But he was in open space. It was a room of broken rock, glowing from above and below.
Matt stood gratefully and stretched, glancing around. “She’s not here.” He took a step, then quickly pulled his arms down and squeezed his eyes shut as something gelatinous touched his forehead. He carefully opened his eyes – the cavern was about fifty feet across, and slightly less than that in width. Its roof hung at least four feet above his head, but he had to stoop – long, sticky tendrils, like glowing blue snot, hung down all around him. He’d seen something similar before, a long time ago, in a cave deep beneath the Antarctic ice – a species of glow-worm.
“She must be here; keep looking.” Megan crawled over to one of the rock walls, and Matt was drawn to something at the far side of the small cavern. The blue luminescence from overhead was matched by another source of light from the cave floor – a red pool shone from the far wall. He walked toward it and bent to stare into its depths. About five feet down there was a shelf of stone, and then the water disappeared under the wall. Maybe the glow was sunlight on the red water – on the other side of the crater rim.
“This might be it. This could be the way out.”
“Carla!”
Megan’s voice made him spin. She was kneeling in front of another small cave,
its mouth no wider than a large dinner plate. She got down low and turned her head to listen for a few seconds before shining her flashlight inside. She turned to Matt.
“Come here … quick.” She turned back to the small opening, yelling into it once again. “Carla?”
This time there was a response; a wretched moan ebbing from the dark hole. Matt rushed closer, and Megan wedged her head into the hole.
“Carla, Carla …” She tried to get more of her body into the opening, but couldn’t fit. She pulled away, searched the ground, and snatched up a fist-sized chunk of loose rock, then started to pound at the small entrance, chipping and cracking the rim. Within a few seconds, a few pieces had been dislodged. She dropped the rock and plunged her head and arm inside.
Matt quickly grabbed her waist. From within the hole she grunted back to him: “Pull.”
Matt dragged his girlfriend back, and, like a long splinter being pulled from a wound, she and Carla were drawn free.
Carla looked wild – hair frazzled, face and body streaked with blood and covered in disgusting-smelling ooze. But worst of all was the expression of abject terror on her face.
She babbled, looking from Megan to the hole in the wall. Then she furiously grabbed onto Megan’s arm. “It’s John, John.” She gulped air into her lungs, then hunched forward and rocked back and forth. “I couldn’t … I couldn’t.” It was if she didn’t know whether to scurry away or throw up.
Megan grabbed her upper arms and shook her. “Carla, Carla, listen to me. Where’s John? Is he stuck inside?”
Carla’s face was wild and staring. She babbled for a few more seconds, then shook her head and grimaced, squeezing tears down her muddy face. “They got him. We need to, to …”
Matt went to dive into the hole. Carla pushed Megan aside and leapt for him, screeching loud in the small room: “No!”
Matt froze, and turned to her. She was wild, and clung to him, staring into his face. “They’ll be coming. We need to get away from here.” She wailed, dragging Matt back. “They had him … all over him. It was horrible.”
“Was it spiders?” Megan kept one eye on the small hole now; Carla’s fear was infectious.