Chapter 65
Onward...
Throughout the morning... if, indeed, it had been morning... Derek had taken the lead. For the past couple of hours, they had been clawing their way across the floor of a large cavern, traversing it with care and anxious silence. At some time in the past, the roof, lost high in the darkness, had given way in a gigantic rock fall. Here, they found no arrows. Had Marina left none... or had the collapse been that recent? In this untouched world, they couldn't tell.
The climb over and amongst the fallen slabs was exhausting. The shear effort and care that it took not to sprain an ankle or twist a knee had been draining. Often, the way had become a maze, not unlike the trail across the avalanche field that Derek had crossed with ibn Sikander and his men on that dark, windswept night. How long ago? To the precept, it now seemed like months.
More than once, Derek had halted and the two soldiers had watched as he seemed to sense their way amongst the immense rocks. He would stand quietly or gently touch the air or stone with his long fingers.
At first, Ginge found it unnerving... and, despite all that Nick had told him and all that he'd seen for himself, he still found it unbelievable. "Bleedin' mumbo-jumbo," he muttered to himself. He often glanced over at the SEAL, who would silence any questions with a hard gaze or a soft gesture.
The Brit had been hoping the caves would contain colorful wonders such as he'd once seen on holiday in southern France, but other than the Fravashi... nothing but this bullshit... only blackness, sharp, gray stone, an awful silence, and what seemed like the weight of the Hindu Kush pressing down upon them.
Finally, as they neared the opposite wall, Derek called a halt. Breathing hard, he unbuckled his pack and let it drop to the ground. Wiping his sleeve across his sweaty brow, he leaned against the stone and pulled the map from his shirt pocket. After a moment or two of study, he shone his flashlight across the rubble strewn terrain, searching for Marina's next white arrow.
"So... how's the 'new man' holding up?" Nick quipped, trying to inject a little humor to diffuse the tension.
"Fine," Derek replied, unaware that Ginge was standing behind him, miming. "Fine.... Just wish I had my pen light.... Hate this monster," he grumbled. "It's as big as a bloody baseball bat."
The two younger men struggled to withhold grins, but exchanged knowing glances.... They were all suffering at the moment. "So... what's up, Doc?" Nick tried again to boost the older man's mood. "Is it lunch yet?"
The precept managed a weak smile. "Food's never far from your thoughts, is it?"
"You know what they say about growing boys," the SEAL replied.
"Well," said Ginge, "I'd say somebody didn't eat all his spinach."
Ignoring the banter, Derek took a few steps forward. They watched as he shone his light on the map... then aimed the beam off to his left... towards what looked like the jagged opening to a fairly large, downward sloping tunnel. The light revealed dark streaks, ascending the cavern wall. When they quieted, they could hear the sound of rushing water from somewhere. The precept then turned back to his right and swept the walls with his flashlight's bright beam. It caught the gleam of white. The stripe seemed to cant upwards. He crossed over to it and angled the beam along a narrow ledge that snaked up the wall to be lost in the blackness.
"Somethin' wrong, Boss?" Nick asked, sensing a change in the precept.
Derek shone the light back onto the map. "We've run off the map.... We're in that vacant no man's land.... The tunnel to the left is evidently the established route...." Again he shone his light on the wall above the slit. "The carbon from torches show that people went that way many times... but Marina's arrow goes this way.... It would appear from her notes," he explained, "that this is as far as her explorations went prior to her final trip." Again, he illuminated the painted arrow. "She made note of a narrow ascent and difficult handholds... then there's nothing further about the caves.... Of course, I have the feeling that many pages are missing."
"Can you 'see' anything that might help?" Nick suggested.
Derek shook his head. "Not here.... I'll try the tunnel."
Both soldiers watched while he again stood, silent and still, in the darkened arch. He pressed his hand against the wall and remained so for a moment or two. They saw his shoulders heave as he sighed in frustration. At last, Derek returned to them and slumped down beside his pack. "We'll take a break," he announced.
* * *
"So...," Nick said, blowing on his hot tea. His bowl of rice had satisfied the angry hole in his stomach and refueled his waning energy. "Which way are we going?"
"Which would you choose?" Derek asked.
The SEAL looked up the wall behind him. "Follow Marina's route," he replied. "Even though it looks like a hellava climb.... Hers is the most recent."
"Ginge?" The precept looked over at the Brit with a gaze that made the redhead feel like a schoolboy being asked to reason out an algebraic equation.
"Makes sense," the SAS man agreed. "Maybe the other way fell in... like this place did. It might be blocked or somehow impassable... or she had some other reason to go this way. We don't know... maybe she did a lot more exploring down here that we know about.... Maybe she was aiming for something the map doesn't show. She's our quarry... not a bunch of wall-painting blokes with flamin' torches."
"So... we're not taking Marina's route, right?" Nick asked with a tinge of irony in his voice.
"No.... You two are the probably correct.... You have logic on your side, and I have nothing to indicate otherwise." Derek replied, thoughtfully. "We'll do as you suggest."
"Bugger me," Ginge muttered.
"Me, too," Nick agreed.
Hours Later...
After a hellish, leg-crippling, nearly vertical ascent up the cavern wall, then a chimney above, the three men faced several hours of hard climbing through tunnels and small chambers that seemed to slope ever upwards. Finally, they reached what, in the darkness, felt like another large, open space. The air had taken on a different essence... cooler... drier... and the area ahead sounded different... more hollow. The question was... was it large... as in deep... or wide... or high... or all three?... Did a canyon loom ahead... or a great dome?
The light sticks were no good for this work. All three swept the bright, focused beams of their flashlights around the cavern. The light reflected off impressive stalagmites, rising from the floor, and their equally astounding siblings, hanging from the ceiling, three storeys above. Directly opposite their entrance, a curtain of the formations shimmered like a waterfall.
"Well... I've bloody well 'ad it," Ginge announced. "This looks a good place to rest up.... It's the way a friggin' cave oughta look," he continued. "Makes me hungry, though."
"What?" Nick asked, confused.
"Look." Ginge pointed his flashlight at a group of formations, hanging from the ceiling. In an undulating curtain, they seemed a translucent purple, red, rose, cream. Then he shone the light on the floor a few yards away... onto a shiny, bulbous nodule... a golden yellow, circled by white. "Bacon and eggs," he said, as he unslung his pack and began to set up camp. "But what we really need is popcorn and some bloody bats.... It'd be like a 'Hammer 'orror'.... Some bleedin' vampire'd be sneaking up behind us." He read the anxiety on Nick's face. "Lighten up, Indy.... I was joking!"
"Yeah... right," Nick agreed, thrown off by the Brit's disconnected chatter. As with Derek's experience the day before, unwanted memories surfaced in vivid detail. "All the same... I'm doin' a recon.... I'll find the next arrow."
Derek stood, uncertain, while the young men busied themselves around him... ignoring him. This seemed a good place to rest... better than any they'd seen all day... but something felt wrong.... It was the air... on the air. He shivered as he watched Nick clamber over a fallen, shattered stalactite. Once more, he swept the cave with his flashlight. The colors that glinted back at him reminded him of melted candles... no... melted crayons.
"Hey!" Nick called. His voice echoed around the walls. "Take a look at this."
Ginge and Derek hurried towards him. They found the SEAL hunkered down beside a backpack. Another pack lay nearby, along with a rifle, a coil of rope, and several empty cans.
"Looks like they left in a hurry," the SEAL commented as he studied the ground.
Ginge picked up the AK-47 to check its magazine. "But who leaves a loaded rifle behind?... Or rope, in a place like this?"
Derek crouched down beside the SEAL, picked up one of the packs, and began to search through it.
As the Brit laid the rifle back where he had found it, a glint caught his eye. "What's that?" he said, reaching over to pluck it up. Derek knocked his hand aside. "Fuck it, Dutch!"
"Leave it!" the precept whispered. Derek placed his hand on the backpack's metal frame and started to push himself to his feet, but he froze in place, staring straight ahead.
"Jesus!" Ginge looked over at Nick. "Is he... you know... 'seeing' something?"
Nick nodded and moved in close beside his precept, ready to help him up or lend a hand should he need support. He waited patiently, then saw the eyelids flutter and a deep breath taken as Derek returned to them. Nick pulled him to his feet. "What did you see?" he asked.
The precept remained silent. First, he controlled his breathing, then met their worried faces. "There was an accident...," he began haltingly. "A vial was broken.... They were afraid of contamination." Derek turned to stare towards the stalactite curtain.
"These were brave men," he said. "They willingly isolated themselves.... There's a pit... down there... in an alcove to the left. They took water... food... blankets.... The others were going to come back for them... on their return trip.... They'd either be dead... or in the clear."
"So what happened?" Ginge glanced uneasily over his shoulder.
"No one came. They're still there.... They... killed each other or themselves when the water ran out." Again he shuddered, visibly. "I think they drank each other's blood... until...." He struggled to swallow. "We can't stay here.... We have to go on."
"Bugger that!" Ginge shook his head. "I'm takin' a look," he said eagerly, as he headed for the shimmering curtain and what lay beyond. "I told you it was bleedin' vampires, didn't I?" he said over his shoulder.
"Go with him, Nick," Derek ordered. "Watch your footing."
"You sure you're OK?" The SEAL didn't really believe his friend's nod, but hurried after the soldier. "Ginge!... Ginge!"
"Over here!" He heard a shaky voice and found the Brit lying on the ground. He had tied a string to his light stick and had lowered it into the pit. "I can see 'em.... Fuckin' 'ell!... Blankets, clothes, cans... and them," he whispered. "He really saw it.... It really bloody happened."
"Yup," said Nick. He chose not to look into the hole, but offered a hand and pulled the young soldier to his feet. "Now, let's get outta here."
Despite increasing exhaustion, the trio trudged on without rest. Ginge, in particular, seemed anxious to put time and distance between himself and that pit, with its gruesome inhabitants. Derek was content to let him lead the way and set the pace, but now he sensed that they were close... very close to their destination. Would it be their goal, he wondered. Would it be Marina's creations? He pondered the link between the words... destination... destiny... destruction. He could feel the power drawing him forward... towards what?... His own ultimate destiny... his death?... God only knows, he decided. He stopped, and leaned against the rock.... It was solid and real and, for some reason, it offered comfort. He took several deep, settling breaths.
"Ginge!... Wait up!" Nick yelled at the soldier. He then turned to hold his light up to Derek's face. "What's wrong, Boss?... Are you OK?... Are you dizzy... or something?"
"I'm fine," the precept replied. "I need to collect myself... my thoughts... then I'll take the lead.... We're almost there."
Shrugging, Ginge exchanged puzzled glances with the SEAL. "OK... Dutch.... It's all yours."
Derek nodded. He stepped past the Brit and began to walk quickly, in a determined fashion, ignoring side tunnels... ignoring any search for white paint.... Like a hound on a scent, he was now certain of his path.
At last, at the end of a long, ascending tunnel, which grew ever lighter, ever warmer, the three met a wall of light that seemed equal to any sun. Heat drew their skin taut across their cheekbones and sapped all moisture from their lips. After the days of darkness, they turned away to shield their eyes. It was many minutes before their vision could penetrate the brilliance. They stood facing an immense rotunda.... Radiance danced from crystalline walls and the great, domed ceiling above. A mother-of-pearl floor shimmered with phosphorescence. In the center, a circle of alabaster columns topped by gold... seven pairs in all... surrounded concentric moats of fire. Flames of every hue... red, orange, blue, gold... seemed to rival each other in intensity. Beyond that... in the very center... nearly hidden within the incandescent nimbus, was an altar, flanked by three columns of the purest light. Upon the altar rested a golden bowl, broad and shallow, from which a vortex of white hot flame spiraled upwards into a living halo.
Shielding his eyes, Derek stepped forward. The floor seemed to have a life of its own.... It trembled, vibrated, seemed to respond to his presence. The flames surged upwards. The myriad colors melded one into another. Was it defensive, the precept wondered... or welcoming... or simply living?
Shimmering waves of heat swept towards him. His heart... his soul... seemed drawn.... "Like a moth... to flame," his inner mind whispered, as he took another step forward.... The spinning halo... so like the St. Catherine's wheel... so like.... He must reach the halo. He must step into the... the portal.
"Derek!" called a voice that seemed distant... far away. "Derek!"
| NEXT |
| CONTENTS |
| E-mail: Dubricus | E-mail: Susan Lay |
