Gray . . .
Jane stared, too. “What’s happening?”
“Indigestion,” Seichan growled harshly, twisting back forward. “War’s starting inside here. Which means it’s time for us to go.”
She throttled up and headed the last of the way. It appeared to be a straight shot after the looping, curving, tortuous chute that led them here.
“It can’t be far,” Jane said. “I think we’re in the descending colon, part of the large intestine.”
Earlier, the young archaeologist had described the path through the small intestine as being merely representational. Those twisting tunnels had been only slightly narrower than the one they were in now. The route also didn’t match the detailed sculpture of the intestinal tract as seen from outside. Instead, the inner passageway was simply a looping tunnel bored through a football-field-long block of sandstone that had been carved on the outside to appear more convoluted than it truly was.
Seichan followed the spear of her headlight down the track, but her ears remained tuned for any clue to what was happening outside. The explosions had dulled to occasional crashes, but spats of sharper cracks warned of an ongoing firefight.
Jane pointed past her shoulder. “There. See how it narrows ahead. I think that’s the sphincter. We must be near the bottom.”
In this case, literally.
Seichan sped faster.
The sooner they were out of here, the sooner she could lure the enemy away from the fight here. Gray and the others had put their lives at risk to protect them.
Only fair we return the favor.
Where it narrowed, the tunnel took a final dip. As the bike reached that spot, the headlight shone down upon an impaction of rock and sand blocking the way.
“Crap,” Jane swore under her breath.
Seichan braked hard to a stop. “Well, at least it’s not literal.”
10:32 A.M.
Derek crawled along the floor, his head ringing. Gray and Kowalski followed, popping off shots into the darkness. A single light shone out here.
It was Derek’s abandoned helmet.
Gray had positioned it behind a boulder several yards back, out of the direct line of fire. While its lamp did little to reveal the enemy’s approach through the rubble, the weak glow offered enough illumination to let them retreat deeper into the shadowy depths of the abdomen.
“We’re running out of places to go,” Kowalski said.
He was right.
To one side rose the coiled mass of the sculpted intestines; on the other, the abdominal wall swept up in a gentle curve to the arch of the spine along the roof. They were being slowly driven back to the pit of the belly, where they’d be trapped.
Kowalski fired his weapon, making Derek jump.
A pair of dark figures split up out there, looking like scraps of shadows. They vanished to either side.
“This should be far enough,” Gray said.
Far enough for what?
“Everyone get behind me.” Gray raised the grenade launcher to his shoulder.
“Make this count,” Kowalski warned. “We only have one more round after this.”
Derek jumped at the weapon’s blast. A spate of flame shot out the tube’s back end, while a tight spiral of smoke propelled the grenade across the cavern. But rather than firing at the enemy, Gray had aimed high, toward the roof.
No, not the roof.
Gray pushed them all farther back. “Go, go, go . . .”
The explosion lit up his true target, blasting it free of its attachment to the upper curve of the wall. The bus-sized kidney broke loose, taking part of the roof with it. It toppled, turning slightly in midair, then slammed across the space between their team and the enemy. More rubble followed, raining all around the dislodged kidney.
Something struck Derek’s abandoned helmet and snuffed it like a candle.
Gray pulled out a spare flashlight, thumbed it on, and pointed the beam at the destruction.
Kowalski clapped his partner hard on the back. “No one’s getting past there now!”
Neither are we, Derek thought. At least not until things settle.
But that quickly became unlikely.
Rather than slowing, the collapsing grew steadily worse, spreading wider, escalating. With a mighty tremble in the earth, a huge piece of the sandstone roof cracked away. It dropped like the palm of a god and crushed half the intestinal mass. A thick cloud of sand and dust blasted over them, threatening to smother them if not for their air masks.
Gray got them moving away. “It’s all coming down.”
10:35 A.M.
Jane picked herself up off the ground.
A moment ago, she had been examining the debris blocking the exit—and the next she was sprawled across the floor. Even Seichan had been knocked against the curve of the tunnel, pinned by the bike she had been sitting on. She shoved herself upright, seated again.
They both looked behind them as a ghostly cloud of dust curled down the length of the descending colon toward them.
“We need to get out of here,” Seichan warned. “Right now.”
More quakes and ominous crashes supported this assessment.
Jane coughed, breathing dust. Only then did she realize her air mask had been damaged from her headlong crash.
Cursing, she tore it away.
Seichan reached to her mask, clearly intending to give it to her.
“Keep it on,” Jane said. “No reason for both of us to be put at risk.”
She doubted there was much risk of contagion this far into the bowels of the god, but why take chances?
Instead, she faced the more immediate danger.
“This is just as fake as everything else,” Jane said, patting the obstruction.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s made to look like a natural cave-in. But watch.” She slapped the boulders and scratched at the sand. “It’s a sculpture like all the rest.”
Seichan shrugged, looking resigned to their fate. “Fake or not, it’s still a dead end.”
Jane shook her head. “Derek was right before. The ancients always had hidden escape routes, often disguising them.”
She examined the neighboring wall, running her palms over its surface.
Seichan hopped off her bike to check the other side.
Jane’s fingertips discovered a seam in the rock. “Over here,” she said and followed it around, outlining a square door. “Help me.”
Together, they put their shoulders to one side of the door and pushed. The rock grated and shifted. Encouraged, they worked harder. The door pivoted around a center pole. It gave way easier than Jane had expected.
With the door opened, she wiped her hands on her pants. “My father must have discovered this in the past. He wouldn’t have missed this.”
A pang of sorrow immobilized her.
Seichan went back and pushed the bike to the door. “We have to go.”
Jane nodded and helped her wrestle the cycle through the door and down a short tunnel. Sunlight blazed ahead, drawing them faster. The exit was sheltered by a boulder, which helped hide its position halfway up a cliff. A steep path led down between two rounded hills to either side. The shapely pair hadn’t been sculpted by anything but the wind. Still, their combined silhouettes created an unmistakable piece of human anatomy—especially considering from where she and Seichan had just fled.
They headed down.
Seichan walked the bike, but her gaze remained behind them.
Jane knew her worry.
The others were still trapped below.
10:40 A.M.
Gray retreated with Kowalski and Derek, fleeing the destruction, driven farther into the depths of the dying god. Guilt ate at him, knowing the devastation his errant shot had triggered.
By now, the middle of the cavern was gone, collapsed into rubble. More and more was coming down. Rock dust choked and clouded the air, making it hard to see.
“There’s gotta be another way
out,” Kowalski said, looking to the two of them for support.
Gray pointed to the crumbled ruin of the intestinal tract, praying Seichan and Jane weren’t still in there. “That way’s blocked.” He waved behind them. “And there’s no going back the way we came.”
“Then what about another exit?” Kowalski turned to Derek, who wore a dazed expression, nearing shock. “Didn’t you say those old guys built a bunch of secret tunnels and whatnot?”
Derek shrugged. “Here it’s all about anatomy. We entered the mouth. The only logical exit is the other end.”
Kowalski balled a fist, thinking hard. “We got other holes,” he said and waved a hand below his waist. “What about . . . you know . . .”
Gray realized the big guy could be right. “Derek, is that possible?” he glanced toward the pit of the abdomen. “Maybe through the bladder.”
Derek had stopped, his brows pinched in thought. “And out the urethra? No.” He turned and fixed Gray with a determined look. “But I think I know how to get out of here.”
10:44 A.M.
At last . . .
Valya grinned at the thin dust trail rising a quarter-mile away.
Despite the past twenty minutes of quakes, buried blasts, and an upwelling of smoke through the mouth of the subterranean complex, she had maintained her cliffside vigil. With no sign of Kruger and his men, she could only imagine the pitched battle below.
Still, his team had succeeded in chasing the hare out of its burrow.
To confirm what she already suspected, she shifted over to the UAV control station and directed the Raven in the skies to sweep down upon that trail.
She wanted eyes on that target.
Crouched by the monitor, she watched a dizzying bird’s-eye view of the broken hills as the drone dove toward a small motorcycle racing across the sand. It scribed a straight path away from the hills and headed toward the distant Nile. Two riders hunched atop the seat. The tail of a scarf waved from the neck of the driver, half-hiding her face.
Valya’s jaw tightened, recognizing that particular flag.
Seichan.
Still, mistrust kept her fixed in place. It could be another trick. The traitor could be trying to lure her from her post, to fool her into chasing a decoy. She toggled the drone to circle closer, using the gimbaled optics to zoom in.
She needed to confirm who rode in back.
Corroboration was made difficult as the figure wore a caver’s helmet and clutched tightly to Seichan’s back, their face turned from the whipping sand and scorching sun.
Valya tilted the Raven, bringing it lower, trying to get the right angle to positively identify the rider. Then as if alerted—maybe by the passing shadow of the drone—the helmeted figure straightened.
Valya cursed and jerked the toggle, but she was too slow.
It was a trick.
The rider in back balanced on her seat, staring straight out of the monitor at her.
It was Seichan.
Using both hands, the woman leveled her pistol at the drone. On the screen those dark eyes narrowed upon Valya, as if knowing who was watching.
A flash from the gun, and the image shattered on the screen.
Valya shoved the monitor and stood. She took three sharp steps toward the cliff, staring at the dust trail still hanging over the desert. Though she didn’t have confirmation, she trusted her instincts.
Jane McCabe had been the one steering the bike, her features hidden under Seichan’s scarf.
Valya swung onto her motorcycle—a Ducati 1080s tuned for the desert and fitted with sand tires. It was a panther compared to her target’s rabbit. And in the open desert, there would be nowhere to hide.
She paused only long enough to grab her portable UAV monitor. She recalled the other Raven, drawing it away from its patrol of the enemy’s truck, and sent it winging to the coordinates of the racing bike. She kept the bird high this time, wanting it to be her eyes from above until she could close the distance.
Not that I have to get that close.
She strapped her assault rifle across her back. It was a Russian AK74M with a GP-25 grenade launcher mounted under its barrel.
She gunned the engine and began her hunt.
10:51 A.M.
Mystified, Gray followed Derek deeper into the dark abdomen. “Where are we going?”
“It shouldn’t be far. If I’m right.”
Kowalski trailed them, glancing frequently over his shoulder, cringing with each resounding crash. The cavern behind them grew smaller as the place imploded. They were being chased by a slow avalanche of stone and sand.
Closer at hand, the walls and roof squeezed around them, while the floor rose under their feet. They had reached the bottom of the belly.
Finally, Derek pointed ahead. “Over there. That should be the bladder.”
To Gray, it looked like a flattened balloon, half-crushed under the last mass of the intestinal tract. “I thought we couldn’t get out through the urinary tract.”
Derek crossed toward the bladder. “Remember when we first entered, I told you something was wrong with the way Tutu’s name was written.”
Gray pictured the two rows of hieroglyphics. The last ended with a kneeling figure. “It depicted a woman instead of a man.”
“We’ve been wrong all this time,” Derek said. “We’re not in the body of a god named Tutu—but a goddess.”
He lifted an arm to the rounded bulk crushing the other half of the flattened bladder.
“And that’s her womb.”
Gray craned up at the mass of the uterus. He remembered the delicate decoration inscribed inside the stone heart, of a flock of butterflies in midflight. Even then it had struck him as feminine.
“How did you figure this out?” he asked.
Derek glanced back to him. “It wasn’t all that hard. Remember that pile of rubble I first hid behind?”
Gray nodded. Something had fallen from the roof and shattered into ruin. Derek had kept looking for its source. Gray had thought the man was worrying about something else crushing him.
Instead, he was studying the anatomy.
“It was an ovary,” Derek said. “I spotted where it broke away and rolled down to where I was standing. I could just make out the remaining fallopian tubes carved into the wall and trailing back into the darkness.”
To here.
Gray turned back to the womb.
“Surely if there was another exit from here,” Derek said, “it would be through there. In a symbolic act of birth.”
Gray adjusted his light to sweep over the bladder and across the vastness of the stone uterus. A dark shadow marred its surface. “A door!”
A loud boom made them all jump. A huge section of the roof dislodged to their right, taking with it a large portion of the sculpted spine, breaking the goddess’s lower back. It crashed on the far side of the cavity, rattling down more boulders in a deafening cascade.
“Go!” Gray ordered.
They scaled the shoulder-high edge of the bladder amid a storm of sand and pebbles. Gray’s light illuminated the way to the door. Past the threshold, there was indeed a large cavity inside. They all ducked through to escape the onslaught.
Once out of the storm, the world grew quieter, the air less dust-choked. Maybe it was his imagination, but Gray was overcome by a sense of reverence, as if stepping into a cathedral.
He lifted his light high. Like with the heart and stomach, the walls here were decorated, inscribed with images. Cherub-like children danced all around them, seeming almost to fly.
Derek found a grimmer sight. “Look down.”
Gray shifted his beam to his feet. Across the floor, there were more children, but from their twisted, contorted shapes, they looked dead or tortured.
Derek tried to cover his mouth, but his air mask blocked him. “It’s a depiction of the tenth plague. The figures below are all boys. The ones above all girls.”
Gray saw he was right.
Everything here
is a lesson.
Kowalski had another one as he herded them forward, eyeing the sand sweeping across the doorway. “Keep moving or we’ll be joining those boys.”
They bowed as the roof lowered, the way pinching to a stone cervix. They had to drop on hands and knees to get through but could stand once past that point. Gray fixed his light down the last muscular length of the tunnel, representing the birth canal. His beam ended at a pile of rock, blocking the way.
“Great,” Kowalski said. “She had to be a virgin.”
Derek touched Gray’s elbow. “Turn off your flashlight.”
He did as the man asked. Darkness fell over them, but as his eyes adjusted, he noted faint flickers of light ahead, piercing the rockfall.
“It’s a cave-in but likely fairly recent,” Derek said. “With care we might be able to dig our—”
The ground jolted with a thunderous explosion. Sand and dust blasted at them from behind. Gray heard more rock cascading across the blocked opening ahead, further sealing them in.
“No time.”
He crowded everyone back to the stone cervix and into the uterus. Once through, he swung the tube of the RPG launcher up to his shoulder and fitted in the last round.
“Cover your ears and open your mouth.”
He dropped to his belly, pointed the launcher through the cervix, and fired.
The blast and fire overwhelmed his senses, blinding and deafening him. Rocks pelted his head and shoulders. Then something tugged on his leg.
Faint words reached him. “Run, goddamnit!”
He lifted his head as his vision cleared, only to be dazzled by a brightness that stung.
Sunlight . . .
Then dark shadows began to fall across the brilliance.
“Out!” Kowalski pushed Gray from behind. “Before it closes back up!”
Gray understood and lunged forward. Once at the threshold, he dove headlong through the cascade of rock and sand. He landed on his shoulder and rolled down a long, sandy slope.
Kowalski and Derek followed his example.
They all tumbled clear as the desert swallowed up the hole behind them.
Gray stood shakily.
Kowalski simply rolled to his rear, looking back at the ruins. “So was it good for you, sweetheart?” He gained his feet and wiped his brow. “Cuz I’m spent.”
The Seventh Plague Page 25