by Jonah Buck
She reached over to another pocket and pulled out a number of speed loaders for her revolver. The bullets were still large, but they were BB pellets compared to the huge rounds for the Nitro Express. Her revolver was a weapon of last resort, meant for personal defense in case she ever found something sinking its teeth into her arm. If that ever happened, she’d pull the revolver out, stick the barrel in her attacker’s eye, and pull the trigger.
Pulling bullets out of the speed loaders, she held the cool brass in her palms. She looked back again as another flurry of clicks sounded from somewhere else in the cave system.
That settled it.
She stepped up to the largest tunnel leading away from her antechamber. Leaning down, she put one of the revolver rounds on the ground, the tip pointing back the direction she’d come. Now she’d have a trail of high-caliber bread crumbs to lead her back to her starting point if she needed to turn around.
Marching deeper into the darkness, she felt along the slimy walls to guide her way. Here and there, little patches of sunlight shone down from above where the ceiling of the chamber broke through to the surface. Most of the openings were no bigger than a postage stamp, though, not nearly large enough for Denise to crawl out of.
Every time she crossed an intersection or the entrance to some new chamber, she laid down another bullet, always pointing the way she’d originally come.
However, she was rapidly running out of bullets. The inside of the cavern system was like a giant sponge. Chambers and antechambers and passageways all led away from each other in an endless maze. Whenever she could, Denise chose a path that looked like it led more or less upward.
Hopefully, there was a large exit leading up to the surface she could crawl out of. Then she could meet with Gail and Harrison back at their basecamp again. Right now, she only had twelve bullets left before she’d have to start using her Nitro Express rounds as place markers, and she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to save those in case she really needed them. If she reached the end of her bullet supply, she’d turn around and start collecting them again and then start off in another direction.
Another round of squeaks and clicks from somewhere in the cave reminded her why she didn’t really want to do that either.
Something flitted past her cheek on leathery wings, and she nearly squeezed the trigger of her Nitro Express in surprise. The tiny, normal-sized bat zipped past her, chittering as it zigzagged through the air. The animal jerked and jinked through the air like it was engaged in an invisible dogfight before taking a sharp turn to the right.
Denise looked down that tunnel. It was low and narrow. She’d been taking the larger, more open pathways, assuming they led out into a bigger chamber and possibly an exit.
Maybe the little insectivore knew something she didn’t, though. The tunnel the bat took was low and narrow. Denise would have to move through sideways, and even then, it would be a tight fit. If she became stuck, she’d die down here, her bones lost forever until they dissolved into cave slime. Then again, nothing large would be able to follow her through the small opening either, and not being eaten alive was even further up on her list of things to avoid than dying wedged in a fissure. If things got too tight, she could hopefully scooch her way back out.
Laying another bullet down, she slid into the gap between the rocks. The walls were cold and damp, as if she were crawling through the guts of some dead sea monster. Cold stone pressed at her as she shuffled along, grimacing at the tightness around her chest and stomach.
The path tightened further, but she could see the far side now. There was a way out. If she could just slither a little further along… Denise sucked in her stomach and scrambled sideways down the alley of rock.
Was it just her imagination, or was it brighter in this section of the cavern? The occasional crack and crevice in the ceiling allowed in a little light, but she thought she could see more details as she moved closer to the end of the path. She’d been moving steadily closer to the surface. If there was a large enough hole, maybe she could crawl her way out.
Her own breathing was loud in her ears. It was all too easy to imagine some minute shift in the earth squeezing her chamber a little closer together, pinning her in place. Maybe all it would take was a single, badly timed rumble down in the earth’s guts, a mere burp from the fire-filled earth’s core. Then she’d be stuck.
Or in the alternative, the walls would just keep closing. If they slipped another foot closer, her head would be squished like a melon in a vise. The earth could swallow her whole, reducing her body to pulp and red gruel through the merest shudder. She wondered if that sort of thing happened suddenly, if she’d be instantly reduced to a thin film of meat without a moment to wonder what had just happened, or if it would move slowly, crushing her like a giant wine press until she burst.
Clamping down on such thoughts, Denise pushed herself forward. She couldn’t think about getting stuck down here or what might be following her. Those thoughts would paralyze her. Getting out was what was important. She had to focus on that.
Almost there, she told herself as her left arm and shoulder squeezed out into the next chamber. Another foot, and she’d squirm free of this stone vise.
She suddenly jerked to a halt. Her belt buckle was caught on a little nub of rock. Denise couldn’t look down. She could barely move her head at all. A swarm of horrified thoughts tried to fill her brain like flies buzzing around hot turds.
She tried moving back into the tunnel slightly. No dice. That little stub of rock was hooked into the metal, and it was holding her fast.
Denise closed her eyes, but visions of her rotting corpse stuck in that fissure tried to swim up to taunt her. Gritting her teeth, she wriggled as close to the opening as she could. Taking slow, measured breaths, she slowly let more and more air out of her lungs. When there was almost nothing left, she lunged as hard as she could.
Metal scraped in protest, but she managed to break free. Tumbling out into the next chamber, she fell down on her side, free.
Taking another revolver bullet, she pointed it toward the opening. Not that it mattered. She didn’t think she’d be able to fit back through from this side. Now that she was through, there was no going back.
Hopefully, it didn’t matter, though. Now that she was through, she was positive it was brighter on this side of the fissure.
She could hear something too, the trickle of water. This wasn’t just a drip, this was more like a small stream, and that meant it had to be coming from somewhere.
Marching forward, she followed the sound of the water as best she could. As she did so, the caverns grew brighter and brighter. Shifting from near pitch blackness, the walls became merely shadowy. She flicked her flashlight off and stuck it back in a pocket of her vest.
Just ahead of her lay a shallow stream, leading off to somewhere deeper in the darkness. The water was flowing downward, so in theory, she only had to follow it back to its source to find the surface.
She rounded a bend, and was suddenly struck in the face by a ray of golden sunlight. Denise squinted and smiled. Up ahead lay a wide opening and beyond that, a field of beautiful blue sky. It was like peeking out of the throat of some massive beast and staring out through its mouth at the outside world.
A slight slope led up to the entrance. The cavern smelled rank and filthy, but she didn’t care. The thin wisp of fresh air from above was refreshing enough to ignore all the other underground odors.
Denise started up the short hill toward the cave exit. Suddenly, she became aware of another sound, something she hadn’t originally heard over the burble of water rushing toward dark oblivion below.
There was a restless rustling noise from overhead, like the constant adjusting of sheets in an insomniac’s bedroom. Denise froze in place. Her hand crept back to her vest and grabbed her flashlight again. Pointing it upward, she clicked it on.
The ceiling was covered with bats, thousands of bats. They gazed down at her with little black eyes, ponde
ring her intrusion into their realm. She shone the little light around, revealing more and more bats.
She sighed in relief as she realized that there were no ahools, though. Even though the chamber was big enough to support a colony of bear-sized monstrosities, these little guys were tiny. They shifted and climbed over each other in a constant wave of motion as Denise played her light over them. It was like the ceiling itself was a single mass of rippling, living flesh.
The floor of the cavern was covered in a thick layer of guano, bat poop. Entire battalions of insects were busy crawling through the filth, chewing the nutrients out and turning the guano field into a rich layer of dirt. Wetas scurried through the filth, and large millipedes scurried after the wetas. There was an entire ecosystem down there simply based on the constant stream of bat crap from overhead. As Denise tread over the hillocks of shit and insects, she thought there might be a metaphor there somewhere, but she was too tired to suss it out.
Her feet sank a half inch into the debris with each step. Dozens of tiny creatures, from nearly microscopic mites to horrific-looking cave scorpions, moved to get out of her way as she made her way toward the light.
There were bones in the bed of filth, too. Most of them were young bats that had fallen from their mothers and plunged to the ground before they were ready to fly. The insects had overwhelmed the bat pups and stripped their flesh off, leaving only the bones behind to be slowly covered in shit. There were a few adult-sized bat bones too from individuals who died of disease, old age, or injuries while they roosted and fell to the ground. The bugs below were happy to feast on them as well.
She didn’t see any more ahool bones like in the first chamber she’d fallen into, but there were still larger bones here too. A human skeleton lay half-submerged in guano a little further ahead. One arm was out, flung in a hopeless effort to protect the victim’s face. A huge crater in the skull and scratch marks on the bones looked like they corresponded with the fang size of the ahool bones she’d seen.
Was this one of the villagers? It looked like an ahool was probably responsible for this death, even if there weren’t any here right at the present.
A little voice in Denise’s head screamed at her to get out of the cave while that was still the case. She had a clean shot at the exit, and it was possible that something bigger than her current chiropteran company could arrive at any moment.
She shone her light on the human skeleton again, though. There was something attached to its wrist. Most of the person’s clothes had either rotted away or been chewed apart by insects, but it looked like there was a leather strap still attached to the arm.
Stepping a little closer, she finally managed a good look at the object. It was a watch, an expensive-looking one.
She wouldn’t expect any of the natives to have watches, not unless some passing ship traded a few, and nobody from the 1902 Dutch expedition was likely to have watches, either. No one really wore a watch before fighter pilots in the Great War started strapping their pocket watches to their wrists so they could check the time without taking their hands off their controls.
Bending down, she paused before touching the bones. Instead of grabbing the skeleton with her bare hands, she pulled her revolver out and used the barrel to prod the arm bones around. Where the bones weren’t shattered outright, they were crisscrossed with deep grooves where huge teeth had chewed the flesh off.
The bones flopped over, and Denise got a better look at the watch. Its face was shattered, and unsurprisingly, the hands had stopped. There was an engraving on the underside, though. Denise could just barely make out the letters.
Moving carefully so as not to touch the skeleton, Denise undid the watch strap and pulled it off. She felt vaguely guilty, like a grave robber sneaking through the night with a shovel and a pocket full of rings still attached to fingers. However, she was more than simply curious. Maybe the engraving would help her identify whatever poor soul met his end down here in Satan’s butt crack.
She flipped the watch over and shone her light onto the back. To Robert for thirty years of service with Yersinia. 1894-1924
What in the hell?
No, seriously. What in the actual hell was going on here?
It was dated from last year, and it was from Yersinia, Hobhouse’s business organization. The same group that would be paying them for their expedition.
And there had been Yersinia personnel on Malheur Island recently that Hobhouse never mentioned, people who evidently died. And died badly at that.
Denise pocketed the watch. She needed to show Gail and Harrison this. No, she needed to show everyone this. If there was a previous expedition to Malheur Island that ended in disaster, that was something they should all know about.
She scurried up the rest of the way to the mouth of the cave, bugs crunching under her feet as she moved. The sunlight was warm and welcoming as she emerged from the cave. Even the listless tropical humidity felt good on her skin after being trapped underground for far too long. She was about halfway up the side of a hill, overlooking the sea.
Looking up, she glanced at the sun. It was well after noon. She’d been down there longer than she thought. Marking the passage of time was all but impossible in the stygian darkness below. In a few hours, it would be dark again. Picking her bearings, she saw the SMS Hookstadt off in the distance as well as the walled-off islander village.
That reminded her. The man in denim they’d met on the beach had said they had until tonight to leave the island. Well, they were going to miss that deadline.
Maybe she could speak to some of the villagers, though. They had to know something about any previous Yersinia operations on Malheur Island. Maybe they could tell her what happened to the dead man in the cave. She would have to find a way to get in contact with them, no matter how adamant they seemed about staying behind their wooden palisade.
Denise felt something whizz past her nose. It ruffled her hair in its wake. Then she heard the gunshot echoing through the jungle.
She ducked, her reflexes already too late. If that bullet had found its way home, she’d already be dead. Whoever killed Razan was now taking potshots at her. They’d seen her standing prominently on the ridge of the hill, and now they were trying to draw a bead on her.
She did the only thing she could do. Denise leaped down the side of the hill, throwing herself into the underbrush. Tree trunks, grass, and vines would obscure the shooter’s vision.
In the distance, she could hear shouts. Everyone else had heard the shots, too. The shooter would be forced to relocate soon.
She paused in her scramble through the underbrush. If she could just look around for a moment, maybe she could see who was doing the shooting.
Slowly, carefully, she brought her head up above the grass line. She slid up the side of a tree to protect most of her body, giving her some cover.
The jungle was thick. She scanned the environment for movement, searching for anything out of place. Creepers swayed from the tree boughs as small primates moved through the branches. Birds bobbed through the air and hopped along the ground, looking for fallen fruit.
Nothing looked like it was out of place. She couldn’t see anything wrong. Maybe the shooter had already beat a hasty retreat.
The wood in front of her chest exploded into a hundred splinters. Some of them sprang out and embedded themselves in her arm. She cursed and ducked back down as the sound of a second gunshot reached her ears.
Blood trickled down her arm as she slithered back in the direction of her basecamp. More shouting marked the approach of the other hunters, converging on the killer’s direction.
If he was smart, he’d already have moved. It would be all but impossible to tell who actually fired the shots once all the hunters arrived in the same area and tried to sort out who had been there first and who could have fired and then doubled back.
Whoever it was, though, Denise was sure they would rue the day they tried to kill her.
THIRTEEN
&nbs
p; UNDER THE PHANTOM MOON
Denise was already sitting in the base camp when Gail and Harrison walked through the cave opening. Even after almost an hour to calm down, Denise nearly shot them. Her nerves were frayed, and she’d spent the last hour half-expecting the killer to track her here and make another attempt at shooting her.
Harrison put his hands up in front of him when he saw the Nitro Express rifle pointed at him. Everyone took the business end of a Nitro Express seriously. Denise put the rifle down when she saw it was them, and she breathed a big sigh.
“Hey there, Balthazar told us what happened. We were out looking for you after we found that cave you fell into empty.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I could hear things, and I thought it might be best to try to find a way out on my own.” After reaching her base camp, she’d tried to radio the Shield of Mithridates again. No dice, the same as last night. When she couldn’t get any response from the ship, she tried radioing the other groups.
She reached Silas, Creighton, and Shinzo first. Silas and Creighton were together when the killer tried to shoot her, but Shinzo had been following his golden eagle. He said he needed to let his bird hunt to feed her, but nobody could confirm exactly where he was when somebody started taking potshots at her.
It took her longer to reach Balthazar’s group. They were separated when Balthazar picked up his radio unit, and she couldn’t be sure where any of them were when the shooting started.
She told him what she told Silas and Creighton. They were all going to have a meeting tonight. Neutral ground. Everyone would come to the abandoned shack where she discovered the Dutch geologist’s journal at sunset. If anyone didn’t show, there would be hell to pay.