by JE Gurley
Verkhoen smiled. “Agreed. I need you to be ready to go in five hours. Drop by my office shortly and I’ll have a contract waiting.”
Before Alan could protest the rushed timetable, Verkhoen rose from his seat. He didn’t bother offering Alan his hand to seal the deal. A mere handshake wouldn’t suffice. Verkhoen required an ironclad contract, perhaps signed in blood. Alan knew he had made a Faustian deal with the devil, and he needed something to wash the sour taste from his mouth. As soon as Verkhoen left, he picked up the phone.
“Room service? Send me up a bottle of Jakkals Fontein Shiraz. What? No, I don’t need extra glasses. I’ll drink it straight from the bottle.” He slammed the phone down. “DamnVerkhoen, damn this place, and damn me for being such a goddamned greedy fool.”
* * * *
He didn’t finish the bottle of wine. He wanted to, but he needed to be sober. After two glasses, he shoved the cork back in the bottle, showered, and drove to the mine two hours before his scheduled meeting with Verkhoen. He wanted to inform Trace and Bill to hold off on packing the equipment. He couldn’t wait to see their reaction. He wondered if they would think he was as crazy as he felt.
They hadn’t brought enough fiber optic cable with them to move the Cerberus to the diamond site half a kilometer beyond the newly bored tunnel. He would have to accompany Verkhoen’s men and control the Cerberus on site, using a laptop remote connection. The last thing he wanted to do was go back down in the mine, but he couldn’t let Trace or Bill risk their lives. He was the one who had agreed to Verkhoen’s offer. He already regretted his decision.
When he opened the door of the trailer and saw Bill slumped over in his chair, he thought the engineer had simply fallen asleep and opened his mouth to yell at him. He closed it again quickly when he saw the congealed blood pooled on the floor and the splatters on the wall. His heart skipped a beat; then, redoubled its effort by sledge hammering his ribcage. He went cold inside. Without checking for a pulse, he knew Bill was dead. Gunpowder residue surrounded the blood-crusted bullet hole in his right temple. Someone had shot the engineer at close range. The bullet had torn out the back of his skull, spraying the wall with bloody gore.
Bill’s crushed and misshapen right hand and the bullet hole in his leg spoke of more than simple murder. Someone had tortured him before killing him. Both laptops were shattered with bullet holes exposing their damaged circuitry. Shards of glass littered the desktop and the floor. Alan’s mind refused to make sense of what he saw. Why would anyone torture and kill Bill, and then destroy the laptops?
He checked the Cerberus video monitor. The screen was fuzzy; something partially blocked the camera, but he could see the tread skirt barricade had fallen from the opening. Someone had forced Bill to back the machine several meters into the tunnel, unsealing the lava tube entrance. Why would they do that? If the creatures got out . . . He let the thought die, as he saw that the insects were already out. A pair of scorpions scuttled past the Cerberus, giving it as wide a berth as the tunnel would allow, headed into the mine.
He picked up the phone. “Security, this is Alan Hoffman. The creatures are loose in the mine. You need to contact Duchamps ASAP and tell him what’s going on.” He looked at Bill’s body, wanting to move it but knowing he shouldn’t until the authorities arrived. “Please send someone over to the control trailer. One of my technicians has been murdered.”
Rage filled him when the person on the phone said, “Captain Duchamps is not here. He and three officers entered the mine three hours ago. What was that about a murder?”
It all clicked into place. Duchamps! He was after the diamonds. He had forced Bill to move the Cerberus, and then killed him to prevent him from resealing the lava tube. The lousy bastard had deliberately let the flesh-eating bugs loose in the mines.
“Sound the alarm,” he said. “The mines must be evacuated immediately.”
Distantly, he heard the evacuation siren going off. If security acted quickly enough, they might confine the creatures to the lower levels and drive them back into the tube. When they did, he was going to seal the tunnel forever with explosives. He wasn’t waiting for Verkhoen’s permission. If Duchamps was still in the lava tube when he got there, he could damn well stay there.
Such deadly creatures had no place in the modern world. They had lived long past the time for their extinction. He knew from watching them in action that they were intelligent and cunning. They would quickly reach the top of the food chain. Humans could become the next animal to go extinct.
He realized the security guard on the other end of the line was still speaking. “I’m going to the lower level,” Alan said, interrupting him. “Make sure those men you send over here are armed. I have to get the Cerberus operational from that end and reseal the tunnel. I’ll need protection.”
“This is Lieutenant Johansson, Mister Hoffman. I will send two men over. That is all I can spare. Please look for Captain Duchamps when you get there. I am worried about him.”
Alan yelled, “Your murdering boss is to blame for this. He killed Bill Bakerman.” He had no proof, but he knew he was right.
Johansson paused for a moment before continuing as if he hadn’t heard or had chosen to ignore Alan’s accusation. “See if you can locate Doctor Means’ group while you’re there.”
Alan grimaced so hard he bit his lower lip. Eve? “What do you mean? Is Doctor Means in the mine?”
“Yes. She, Doctor Tells, and two others went down shortly after Captain Duchamps.”
My God! Eve was down there with those creatures running around loose, although Duchamps might be just as dangerous as the giant insects. He had to rescue her before sealing the lava tube.
“Get those men to the lower level, damn it. I can’t wait here for them.”
He didn’t bother hanging up the receiver. He tossed it on the desk and raced from the Shack. He drove to the explosives trailer he had passed every day on his trips to and from the mine. When he got there, a steel chain and padlock barred the door. Of course, he moaned. Why would anything be easy? Using a fourteen-inch pipe wrench he found in the back floorboard of the car, a ‘bobbejaan spanner’ in Afrikaans, he hammered at the lock until it gave way. He ignored the hundreds of 50-pound bags of ANFO, premixed ammonium nitrate and fuel oil. They were useless to him, impossible to carry. He broke open a case of dynamite used as a primer for detonating the ANFO and grabbed half a dozen sticks. He added two pyrotechnic blasting caps, a coil of fast burning fuse, and shoved everything inside his shirt.
He drove like a maniac back to the elevator shaft, ignoring the blasting horns of ore haulers as he weaved among them. Sliding the car to a halt right in front of the elevator, he leaped inside and hit the down button, cursing it for being too slow as it descended into the mine. The cage had barely shuddered to a halt, when he shoved aside the sliding cage door and loped down the mineshafts toward the pit. He saw a flicker of movement ahead of him and leaped out of the way just as a giant beetle lunged at his legs from the shadows behind a support beam. As he flung himself against the wall, his feet kicked something, a rifle lying in a pool of blood. He grabbed it, prayed the safety was off, and fired two short bursts at the creature as it came at him again.
The beetle fell at his feet, thrashing its legs. He started to fire another burst into it to finish it off, but he didn’t know how many bullets remained in the magazine. He might need them all. Slinging the R4 over his shoulder by the strap, he continued toward the pit. A scream erupted from somewhere ahead of him. He prayed it wasn’t Eve.
Rounding a corner, he saw Eve and two others ahead of him. A pair of the scorpions had a third man pinned to the ground. The man’s abdomen spurted blood as the creature stabbed him repeatedly with their sharp claws. As his movements stilled, the giant arthropods hungrily tore into the corpse with their mandibles, ripping strips of flesh from his corpse. Alan fired his rifle at them and was gratified to see one of the creatures shudder and die. The second, alerted by his shots, abandoned its
meal and disappeared into the darkness.
“Alan,” Eve yelled as she ran to him and fell into his arms. “Oh, my God! It was awful! Those things just grabbed Liles and ripped him to pieces.”
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. Anger at her foolish expedition tempered his relief that she was still alive.
“I thought Verkhoen would try something shady, so I brought my colleagues down here with me to prevent him. When we arrived, we saw someone had moved the Cerberus away from the lava tube. When a horde of scorpions and beetles emerged, we ran. We thought we were safe; then, they attacked Doctor Liles.”
One of the older men came over to him.
“You must be Alan Hoffman. Eve told us about you. I am Doctor Simon Tells and this is Doctor Jayden Sandersohn. That,” he pointed to the corpse, “was Doctor David Liles, our bacteriologist.” He shook his head. His too-large hardhat spun around. “You came at an opportune time, young man.”
“Not soon enough for Doctor Liles, I’m afraid,” he replied.
“Why did you move your machine?” Eve demanded. “Did you not know the creatures would escape?” She pounded her fists on his chest as she berated him. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to him.
“It wasn’t me,” he said. “It was Duchamps. He killed Bill Bakerman, one of my engineers after he forced him to move the Cerberus. He’s after the diamonds.”
She looked up, horrified. “But people could get killed.”
“I think that was his plan. We’ll be too busy hunting down and killing these creatures to worry about him.”
“You can’t kill them,” Sandersohn said. “We must study them.”
Alan glared at him. “You can study any loose bug parts you can find lying around, Doctor. I’ve seen these things in action. Any creature I see, I’m going to kill just as fast as I can. Now, I have to get you out of here and find a safe place to stash you. You can’t go back up, and I have to reach the Cerberus.” He turned to Eve. “You know these tunnels. Where’s a good place to hide?”
She wrinkled her brow in thought before answering, “Each level has an emergency rescue shelter. There’s one near here. It’s airtight and has a week’s supply of food, water, and oxygen for ten men. We could go there.”
“Good. Lead the way.”
As he followed Eve toward the shelter, he became concerned that they encountered no security guards. They should have already arrived. Unless they’re too busy elsewhere. That unpleasant thought hurried his steps. He didn’t know how much ammunition remained in the rifle, but he knew it wasn’t enough to fight off a horde of giant carnivorous insects.
Relief flooded over him when he caught sight of the emergency shelter. With its wheel-operated airtight door and single observation window on the side, it resembled a six-meter-long, deep-sea decompression chamber. It sat snuggly in an alcove carved from the side of the mineshaft, protected from cave-ins by two steel beams supporting the rock ceiling above it. Four adjustable hydraulic chocks bore the weight of the beams. A steel rack beneath the window held four oxygen cylinders with flexible metal hoses attached to a regulator on the side of the shelter. For all that, it still managed to look claustrophobic. Any port in a storm, he decided.
He spun the wheel to open the door. A row of soft LED lights came on automatically, illuminating the functional but stark interior. Padded benches lined both walls of the rear of the shelter with blankets neatly stacked at one end of each bench. A storage cabinet stocked with bottles of water and packets of freeze-dried foods, similar to MREs took up most of the rear wall. A rack by the door held a dozen respirators, masks, and flashlights.
As Alan surveyed the shelter’s contents, Eve said, “I hear something.”
He stopped to listen, mystified by a fluttering sound growing louder. Something was coming their way. Bats? he asked himself, but dismissed the idea. It was too noisy for a bat. His sixth sense kicked into high gear. He stood aside and ushered the others inside, urging them to hurry. The two scientists politely waited for Eve, then followed her in. As he closed the door, from the corner of his eye he noticed two pairs of lacey wings rushing at him, attached to a meter-long dragonfly. He didn’t have time to raise his rifle and fire, nor did he think he could hit it anyway. He swatted at the dragonfly with his hand but missed. It struck him in his chest, knocking him backwards into the shelter. He fell on his back, warding off the enormous dragonfly with his hands. He finally succeeded in gripping it around the thorax with both hands and tossing it away from him out the door. A giant spider leaped up from the ground and snatched it midair. It scurried away down the tunnel with its struggling prize.
As if he were a hurdle on a racecourse, Eve bounded over his prostrate body to pull the door shut. He crawled over to help. Claws reached around the edge of the door and raked his left wrist, leaving a long gash. He ignored the pain and helped her seal the door.
Something, or several somethings, began pounding on the door and trying to dig beneath the shelter, but the rock was too hard. He heard them scurrying back and forth, seeking a way in. By the vicious hisses and chirps, they were also busy fighting among themselves.
“Are you hurt?” Eve asked, her face flushed and breathing hard.
The wound burned, but didn’t look too deep. Only a trickle of blood oozed from the cut. “Unless I catch some million-year-old flu bug, I’ll be fine.”
“Sit here,” she said, guiding him to one of the benches.
She unzipped her jumpsuit to the waist, revealing a thin, white tank top that stopped just above her muscular midriff. Her breasts, barely concealed by the thin material, took his mind off his hand as she found a first-aid kit and began treating his wound. She was gentle but somewhat clumsy, her mind not focused on his wrist. The antiseptic she applied burned. When he groaned, she jumped and spilled most of it on the floor. He had to help her with the bandage when she wrapped his wrist so tightly it cut off the circulation. He noticed that she kept glancing out the window toward a deteriorated wooden door across from the shelter. She saw that he was watching her.
“Just beyond that door is where they sealed the shaft my husband is buried in,” she said. Her eyes glistened with fresh tears.
Alan looked at the wooden door. “I don’t guess there’s a way out through there.”
Eve shook her head. “No. When they saw it was going to take longer to dig through the rubble than they thought, they bored a shaft beyond the collapse from several levels above to supply air, but there is no other exit.”
Alan sighed. “Then, I guess we sit tight until help comes.”
“When might that be?” Doctor Tells sat on one of the benches wiping his glasses with his handkerchief.
“I’m not sure. I called the guards, and they’re evacuating the mine, but they know we’re down here. They’ll get to us soon.”
“Even through the insects?” Eve asked.
“They’ve got weapons.”
Tells pointed his glasses at Alan. “My good man, these creatures have evolved for the last 250 million years beyond what they were at the end of the Paleozoic. Even then, they were the most vicious hunters of the eco system. They were the alpha predators – spiders the size of German Shepherd dogs, three-meter long centipedes, giant beetles and cockroaches, and flies as big as your fist. You simply do not understand of what these creatures are capable. They will not stop until they have eliminated what they perceive to be a threat to their colony.”
“You make them sound intelligent.”
“From the description Eve provided and the video she brought back, I believe they are, at least to a degree. They are at least as intelligent as dogs or cats, but much more deadly. I fear they will find a way out of the mines. Once on the surface in the open, they have all of Africa in which to breed. They could potentially wipe out most of the wildlife on the continent in a matter of years. We know so little about them, other than from a few scarce fossil remains.”
“I’m more worried about us.”
“If they
breed as prolifically as do most insects, laying thousands of eggs, they could achieve a population so large as to pose a threat to mankind. Certainly here in Africa, where most people do not carry guns like you Americans.”
“I thought you were eager to study them.”
Till’s face tightened. He drew himself up to his full height, which was slightly less than 5’7”. “Study them, yes, but I do not want to be replaced by them.”
Till’s words sent a shiver down Alan’s spine.
Sandersohn spoke up. “We have to get out of here and warn them. They’ll try to herd the creatures like cattle back into the lava tube. They don’t know how dangerous these things can be if cornered.”
“Yes, I agree, but how?” Alan asked.
He peered out the window at a war scene fifty meters down the mineshaft. Groups of spiders and bands scorpions faced off like gangs in a turf war, hissing and chattering. Beetles raced in and out, attacking both sides indiscriminately. Hovering above the melee like a squadron of helicopters, the dragonflies swooped down and snatched bits of dead bug from the carnage.
“Not that way,” he said. He nodded toward the wooden door in the tunnel wall. “That leaves this way.”
“No, it’s too dangerous,” Eve cried.
“We can’t stay here. The winners of the battle outside will eventually chew through the fiberglass walls of this shelter if they decide we might taste better than their fellow insects. We don’t have much choice. Right now, they’re ignoring us. That will soon change. We’ll try the airshaft.”
Eve slowly nodded her head, but she didn’t look pleased with his decision. Alan picked up a pouch containing a respirator and dumped it out. When Eve saw him remove the dynamite from his shirt and place it in the bag, her eyes grew larger and her face paled.
“Dynamite? Are you crazy? You could bring the entire mine down on us.”