Burial Ground

III

4:03 p.m.

"What are we going to tell them?" Leo asked, waving away the flies swirling around his head to keep the bats from knifing from the ceiling toward his face.

"Nothing," Colton said. "We clean up this mess and no one's the wiser."

"They're going to demand to know why we posted guards to keep them from coming in here. We have to tell them something."

"You could start with the truth," a voice said from the mouth of the tunnel leading into the cavern.

Leo whirled to see Galen emerge into the pale lamplight. His face was pale and he visibly shivered. Sorenson grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a tug in reverse.

"How did he get in here?" Colton demanded.

"Don't ask me," Sorenson said. "I was doing what you asked when all of a sudden he was just standing there."

"He saw what you were doing?"

"What was I supposed to do about it? One minute I'm alone, and the next thing I know, I look up, and there he is, staring right at the mess."

"There was so much blood," Galen whispered.

"It doesn't matter," Leo said. "Everyone would have found out eventually. This just accelerates our timetable. Besides, we could probably use their combined resources if we're going to figure out what happened here."

"I already told you what happened here." Galen's eyes roamed the chamber momentarily before settling on the dismembered carcass on the ground. He winced and drew the back of his hand across his mouth and nose. "Can't you see? What else could possibly have torn these men apart like this? There's no other explanation."

"All you have is wild speculation," Colton said. "Where's your proof?"

"In your goddamn hand!" Galen snapped.

Colton raised the feather he had extracted from the small tunnel at the back of the room.

"This? This is your proof? It's just a feather."

"Just a feather? Look around you. They're everywhere."

Leo lowered his gaze to the sloppy ground. He hadn't noticed at first as he'd been focused on the carnage and the thought of how much the man must have suffered during his final moments, but now that he looked closely, he could see feathers congealed in the tacky puddle of blood and fluids through the skein of flies.

"Carrion birds," Colton said. "You of all people should know that the smell of death draws them---"

"Enough," Leo whispered. He looked from one man to the other. "We need to figure out what really happened. Something slaughtered these men and killed my son---"

"You said your son drowned," Galen said. "Why would you lie about---?"

"These men were civilians," Colton interrupted. "We have four highly-trained soldiers, myself included. I cherry-picked the other three for their prowess in combat, and we have enough firepower to launch an assault on a small army."

"I trust your skill, old friend, and your judgment," Leo said, "but we need to determine what we're up against to eliminate the element of surprise. Would you not agree?"

Colton nodded slowly.

"Then we need to indulge Dr. Russell and trust his expertise---"

"Expertise? He knows nothing about---"

"Marcus," Leo said. In all the time he had known Colton, he had only used the man's first name a handful of times. "Perhaps then you would humor an old man who is ultimately not only responsible for all of our lives, but for the procurement of the millions of dollars in gold surrounding us."

"Gold?" Galen nearly shrieked. "You're willing to risk all of our lives for gold!"

Colton ignored Galen and met Leo's stare for a long moment before he finally acquiesced with a curt nod.

"But I won't entertain fantasy," Colton said, his voice firm. "When the time comes to take decisive action, my orders will not be questioned. Are we in agreement?"

"Of course. That's why I hired you. I would trust no one else with my life."

It was a small bone, but one that needed to be thrown.

Colton strode toward Galen, who raised his hand in front of his eyes to block the beam from the mining helmet, and thrust the feather toward the ornithologist.

"It's time to put your theory to the test, Dr. Russell." Galen hesitantly plucked the feather from Colton's hand, an expression of confusion on his face. "You're going to need a helmet."

"Why would I need...?"

In response, Colton turned toward the back wall and spotlighted the shadowed crevice.

"What's back there?" Galen asked, his voice cracking.

"That's what we're about to find out."

Colton stormed over to the mound of supplies, rummaged until he found another intact helmet, and held it out for Galen, who took it in his shaking hands and seated it on his head. Colton flicked the switch for him and the beam sliced through the darkness, stirring the flies and bats alike.

"What are we doing?" Galen asked.

"Just a little spelunking," Colton said, and struck off into the channel leading into the cold depths of the mountain.

Leo followed with Galen in tow. When the tunnel terminated, Colton dropped to his stomach and wriggled into the small hole where he had found the feather, his squirming form silhouetted by his bright light.

"We shouldn't go in there," Galen whispered. "Nothing good can come from it."

"Show some backbone, Dr. Russell," Leo said, and shimmied into the earthen tube behind Colton. He tried not to think about the sheer tonnage of rock overhead. After perhaps a minute, Galen's beam shoved aside the darkness behind him and illuminated the tread of Colton's boots ahead.

They rounded a smooth bend and dragged themselves by their elbows another fifteen feet before Colton's light dimmed as it reached into the vast space of whatever lay beyond. He paused at the end of the tunnel and swept his light from side to side before finally crawling out and rising to his feet.

Leo followed his example. From behind, Galen's beam cast his shadow into an oblivion of darkness.

He took a deep breath, retched, and had to clap his hand over his mouth and nose.

A different scent entirely accosted him. While it was vastly preferable to the reek of rotten meat and decomposition, it was no less unpleasant.

Colton's beam scoured the floor.

It didn't take long to isolate the source of the stench.