Subterranean

NINETEEN

ANOTHER PIERCING SCREAM. IT HAD ALMOST REACHED the cavern.

Ashley searched for any other exit from the nesting area. Even a small crevice in which to hide would do. A hurried scan with her hand lantern revealed only rock.

"Back down!" Ben said, pointing his lantern back to the cliff.

Michaelson already had his sawed-off shotgun in his hand. "No, we stay and kill it."

Ashley shook her head. "Might be others. Gunfire could draw a whole flock of those damned creatures. We only shoot if cornered."

Ben glanced back at the cliff. "I'd say we're cornered."

"We just need somewhere to hide," she said. "If Big Mama finds the cavern empty, hopefully she'll lose interest and go away again."

"But where could we hide?" Michaelson asked. He checked his rifle to make sure the clip was secure.

Ben tugged on the coil of rope over his shoulder. "We could hang over the cliff edge. Wait for it to leave. If it finds us, we can rappel farther down the cliff face."

Ashley's arms still felt like limp noodles, but what choice did they have? "Good idea. Let's go."

Ashley slid down the ridge, following Ben to the cliff's edge. From the ridge, Michaelson guarded their backs, watching the tunnel for Mama's appearance.

"Loop your rope over that stalagmite," Ben instructed. "Like this."

She followed his example, pulling on her knot even more strongly than him. She gave it a third yank.

"That's plenty tight, Ash."

"Just making sure." She watched Ben set up the major's rope on a third outcropping. He threw the coiled rope over the edge, letting it drape down the cliff face.

A bellow of anger thundered through the chamber. She glanced toward the nest.

Michaelson scrambled down the slope toward Ashley, clutching his shotgun in one hand. "Here she comes!"

"Ash! Get going. I'll make sure Michaelson gets hooked up."

She nodded, clipping the rope through the carabiner. "Don't take any chances."

"Who, me?" He winked at her, herding her toward the edge. Another bellow erupted. "Hurry!"

Grasping the rope, she leaned over the edge and hopped down a few yards, then braked to a stop. The cliff's edge blocked her view of Ben as she descended. Damn, she couldn't see what was happening up top, but she could hear.

"Don't wait, Ben! Get your ass over the edge!" Michaelson's voice was near-hysterical. "She's right behind me!"

"Just get your butt over here, mate."

A scattering of loose shale rained over the edge as the major skidded to a halt. "She sees us! Here she comes!"

The sound of claws ripping at rock sent a cataract of tremors up Ashley's back. A deafening scream blasted from above, sounding as if it were coming right from the cliff's edge.

Michaelson suddenly leaped over the precipice, rope zinging through his carabiner. His boots hit the rock yards to her left. His face was beet-red in the glow of her helmet lamp.

"Ben?" she asked, searching the cliff's edge.

Between gasps for air, Michaelson shook his head. "He… he… had turned off his lamp… then bolted behind a boulder fall. I don't think it saw him. Instead it fixed on my light."

She prayed he was safe, eyeing the empty dangling rope to her left. She could hear something snorting just overhead. More shale tumbled down, pelting Michaelson.

A reptilian head shot over the edge of the cliff, searching with one black eye, then the other. It was right above the major. Its scanning halted, one eye pointing toward Michaelson. Opening its jaws, it screamed at him.

Michaelson leaped another yard down, now well beyond the reach of even its long crested neck. The predator hissed at its escaping prey, then cocked its head a final time before snaking back over the edge. Ashley blew suppressed air from her chest as Michaelson gave her a thumbs-up. They were safe. But what about Ben? She searched again. A gasp from the right drew her attention back to Michaelson. He had lost his footing, slamming into the wall as his rope was yanked upward. She watched wide-eyed as his flailing figure was dragged another several feet up. He hit the wall hard with his shoulder.

"Jesus Christ! It's got my rope!" He was hauled farther up, now only two feet from the top.

Again the beast peeked over the edge, eye cocked toward Michaelson, the rope clamped in its jaws. It reared up, dragging Michaelson straight up into the air to dangle from the jaws of the creature.

Ashley tried to loosen her pistol with one hand while gripping the rope with the other. Her fingers struggled with the clasp over the gun. Damn it! She fought the holster, then froze when she heard Ben.

"Hey, there, Big Mama. Is that any way to treat a guest?" He followed his words with a loud whistle.

Ashley watched as the beast twitched in the direction of his voice, swinging Michaelson wildly. The creature opened its mouth to hiss at the new intruder, dropping the rope.

Michaelson plummeted past her, his arms and legs wheeling. The slack in his rope snapped taut. He crashed into the wall. The sound of snapping bone accompanied the collision.

She stared down at him. He groaned, eyes narrowed with pain, as he struggled into a rappelling position, using only one leg. Satisfied that the major had survived the fall, she turned back to the cliff's edge.

The monster had disappeared beyond the horizon of her view. She could hear it snorting and sniffing up there, claws tentatively scratching at rock, searching. C'mon, Ben, get down here. She listened for any further sign of what was going on up there. Silence. She glanced to her left. Ben's rope was gone! When had that disappeared?

A loud snort of glee drew her attention. The hunter had found its prey. A frantic scraping and scrambling erupted.

"Look, Ma!" Ben's voice was savage. "I knitted you a new scarf."

A bellow of rage.

Suddenly Ben leaped over the edge, shooting over empty space, rope trailing. As he reached the end of the slack, he twisted in midair to face the cliff and plunged toward the wall. Using his legs, he absorbed the brunt of the impact. Only an explosive "Oof" indicated that the collision had any effect on him.

"Ben…?" She said, relieved and confused. "What about the-"

Ben pointed up.

She turned her eyes back to the cliff's edge. The marsupial's head dangled over the cliff, its blubbery tongue hanging from its slack jaw. Ben's rope was looped around its neck, digging a trench in its flesh.

Ben pushed a pouted lip at the beast. "Now, how's that for gratitude? I don't think she likes my present."

As the SEAL groaned and opened his eyes, Linda checked his pulse. "He's coming out of it," she said. She had been worried that in his weakened state the fungal spores may have been too strong for him.

"That's good," Khalid said. From his queasy expression, he was still suffering from the aftereffects himself. He closed his eyes and pressed fingers to his temples.

"Here. Try this." She passed him a damp towel. "Lay back and place this over your eyes."

He smiled wanly at her but accepted her offering.

As he lay back, Linda turned to Villanueva. She wiped the SEAL's forehead. With Khalid's help, she had been able to transport him to a relatively fungal-free chamber. A stream of cool water coursed through the cave, slightly tangy with dissolved minerals. The only entrance to this room was a narrow hole, too small for any large predators. Still she kept a pistol resting on a rock within arm's reach.

Villanueva struggled to speak between sticky lips. "W-w-water…"

She helped him sit up and raised a cup to his lips. With shaky hands, he collected the cup and managed himself.

"What happened?" he asked, glancing at Khalid, who now snored quietly from under the wet cloth.

She explained the story of the poisonous fungal spores while he finished his water.

He handed her the cup. "Is there anything down here that doesn't want to eat us?"

She grinned at him. "This is a hostile environment. I think for anything to survive it must learn to utilize the scarce resources to the fullest. That means intense competition and varied modes of attack."

"Great. What's next? Carnivorous butterflies?"

She shrugged.

He shook his head. "Damn, I could use a smoke."

"I don't think that would be good for you."

He raised his eyebrows. "I've just about had my arm yanked off, I've been a chew toy for a monster, and now some freakin' mold tried to poison me. I think I can survive one cigarette."

She nodded. "I could check in Khalid's stuff. He has a few extra packs. I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing one." She tugged his pack over to her, surprised at how heavy it was, then fumbled the flaps open. She rummaged through the extra clothes and climbing gear. "It's got to be in here somewhere."

"That's all right. I could-

"Here, I think I found one. Still in its cellophane." With her arm buried to the elbow, she felt the plastic crinkling with her fingertips. "Got it!" She pulled her arm free, clutching her find. Embarrassed, she realized it wasn't a pack of cigarettes. Curious, she held it up to the light to see the object better.

Villanueva's eyes sprang wide when he saw what she held in her palm. "Careful with that."

"What is it?"

"Plastic explosive. Let me see it."

"Explosive?" She handed him the cellophane-wrapped block of clay.

He flipped the package around. "This insignia stamped into it… it's German manufacture."

"Why would…?" She glanced at the sleeping man. "As a geologist, maybe he thought he might need to explode some sections to get to samples."

The SEAL shook his head. "I was briefed. I would have been told if someone had plastique. This is obviously contraband. Pass me his pack."

She held her breath, and a thousand thoughts bounced around her head as she passed him Khalid's pack. She now recalled how guarded he was at times when anyone handled his pack. How odd some of his expressions were when anyone asked about his past. But she also remembered his strong hand pulling her up steep slopes and his kind words of encouragement.

Villanueva closed the pack. "There's twelve packages in here. Enough to bring the entire volcano crashing down on us." He reached for her pistol, but his injuries prevented him. "Give me your gun."

Instinctively, she started to obey, but with her hand on the pistol grip, she froze, suddenly unsure what to do.

With a rattling snort, Khalid coughed himself awake. He pushed the cloth off his face and sat up. "What are you…?" His eyes shifted from Villanueva with the pack to Linda with the gun. His brows drew together, lowering over his eyes. His accent became thicker. "What the hell are you doing with my pack?"

His words were directed at the SEAL, but the heat of his anger scorched her too. Embarrassed, words flowed from her. "We were just looking for a cigarette and-"

Villanueva cut her off. "What is your game here, Khalid? Who sent you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Give me back my pack."

The SEAL shook his head. "Go to hell."

Linda backed a step away from the combatants. Her gun hung limply in her fingers. She kept staring at Khalid. He was the same man who had shared his canteen with her. The same man who had pulled her free when she was trapped in the narrow crack.

Her motion attracted Khalid's eye. He spoke to her, pointing a thumb toward Villanueva. "Is he feverish? Is it the fungal poison? Why is he acting like that?" He waved her away from the SEAL. "Be careful. He may be dangerous."

Numbly, she watched as her feet started stepping toward Khalid. "He's fine. It's just that he doesn't understand why you have explosives."

"Get away from him!" Villanueva struggled to stand but was too weak and unstable. He toppled back down. "Don't trust him. Give me the gun."

Khalid turned to her. "Don't. He'll kill me."

She glanced toward the SEAL.

Villanueva's lips were a cruel line. "And what did you have planned for us with all these explosives?"

Khalid lowered his head. "Linda, let me explain. He's twisting it all around. I'm not some Arab terrorist. He's letting his prejudice delude him."

"Khalid…?" She took a single step toward him, now only a few feet between them.

"Watch out!"

Villanueva's words were too slow. Much slower than the sudden speed of Khalid's leap. He was upon her before she could gasp. He held her in a tight hug. One hand reached down and freed the gun from her trapped hand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear. "It wasn't supposed to be like this." With the gun in his hand, he released her.

She stumbled a few steps away, tears pooling in her eyes.

He pointed the gun at Villanueva.

"So now what, Khalid?" he said with a sneer. "How do you think you're gonna get out of here?"

"By lightening the load." He pulled the trigger twice. Villanueva's head bounced back, two small holes appearing in his forehead. His body slumped to the floor.

Linda screamed. Covering her face, she dropped to her knees, sobbing, expecting at any moment to feel bullets ripping into her too.

A hand touched her shoulder. No words.

She cringed from his touch and continued crying. The hand did not try to touch her again. Eventually her wracking cries dissolved to a simple flow of tears. She glanced up.

Khalid sat on his haunches, hanging his head. The gun still rested in his hand, as comfortable and easy as a pen. He must have noticed her look.

She sniffed. "Why?"

His words were dry, unemotional. "I was assigned this mission." Khalid shifted to face her. "Blakely was naive. News of his discovery of a huge diamond statue reached many ears. A South African diamond cartel approached my employer. If the source of such huge diamonds were ever discovered, it would destroy the diamond market. Current prices would plummet. I was assigned to find the source of the diamonds, then sabotage the site. Explode the entire system."

She lowered her head. "All those deaths just for money."

He reached over and tipped her face toward him, his fingertips warm from the hot gun. "No," he said. "I accepted this assignment from the South Africans for another reason too. One closer to my heart. Like the diamond market, if this continent should open up as a major oil competitor, it could devastate the Middle East economy. Oil is my country's lifeblood. Before oil, my country was poor. No education, no health care, no way out of the sand. I will not see that happen again. Not after so much progress." A flash of pain in his eyes. "I care for my country as much as you do yours. Would you kill to save your country?"

Unsure herself, she did not answer, only turned her face away.

Releasing his grip on her chin, he stood up. "I need to head back up. Complete my mission." He walked to Villanueva's body. "He had to be killed. His knowledge was a threat to my mission. But… you… I need. Another pair of eyes, another pair of hands. It's a long journey back up."

She allowed herself a moment of hope.

"I have my mission and won't fail," he said. "You could stay here… or you can come with me. But you must understand. If you come along and betray my secret, then I will be forced to kill again." He held a hand out to her. "Can I trust you?"

Linda stared at his calloused palm. To go with him, he might turn on her as swiftly as he had turned on Villanueva. But to stay alone down here, unarmed, meant certain death.

Wrapping her arms around her body, Linda ignored his hand and made a decision. "I'll go with you."

Thank God, Michaelson thought, as Ben stopped in front of him. He steadied himself with a hand on the Aussie's shoulder, the crude splint on his ankle biting into his calf. The half-assed contraption had been hurriedly slapped on his leg after climbing back to the nest area. Walking was possible, but slow and wobbly. Michaelson winced when he saw how far they still had to go to reach the nursery's exit.

"Did you hear something?" Ben asked, his head cocked to the side.

Ashley shook her head. Michaelson listened.

From several yards behind, the infant marsupial predators hissed at the group, tiny crests twitching up and down. Their protests had become less strident as they became aware that the group was leaving the nest. Still the tunnel was some distance away, a black slash in the wall.

"No," Michaelson said. "Nothing. Sounds clear."

Ben nodded, using a finger to clear an ear. "I could have sworn…" He proceeded forward.

Michaelson followed, his steps clumsy on his bad ankle.

Ashley stepped up beside him. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine, but I still think you should proceed without me. I'm holding you up."

She frowned. "It's best if we go slowly anyway. No telling what lies ahead."

Resigned, he tromped after Ben, keeping an eye on the tunnel entrance. A goal. He began counting his steps, each odd numeral painful as he hopped his weight on his splinted ankle.

On his thirty-third step, he finally reached the opening. He leaned on the wall of the tunnel, perspiration soaking his forehead. A stitch of pain had started throbbing on his right side. Damn it, must have cracked a rib too, he thought, rubbing a hand over his side.

Ben stepped up to him. He had reconnoitered the passage ahead while waiting for Michaelson to hobble up. He glanced at where Michaelson rubbed and raised an eyebrow, but thankfully didn't ask any questions. It was already embarrassing enough to have the Aussie pull his butt out of the fire when that enraged creature had caught him up. If it wasn't for Ben's foolish stunt, he would have been dead by now.

He dropped his hand from his side. "What did you find?"

"It's a bloody maze down there. Passages crisscrossing every which way. Some lighted by fungus, some clear. We need to be careful."

"At least we have plenty of escape routes."

"Yeah, but which passage gets us out of here?"

"There's only one way to find out." Suppressing a wince, he pointed down the tunnel. "After you."

Ben flashed his light forward and entered the tunnel. After several yards of careful progress, Michaelson realized Ben's description of the passages ahead was an un- derstatement. The first intersection had five rocky passages sprouting in all directions.

"Now which way?" Ben asked, his question directed at Ashley.

Michaelson hopped forward, irritated that Ben should exclude him from the decision-making process. Even if he was an invalid, he was still the senior military presence here. Their safety was still his primary responsibility.

Ashley pointed to each of the tunnels with a beam of light. She settled her light on one of the passages. "This passage seems to be heading up. And it has some of that glowing mold on the wall."

Michaelson peered down the tunnel selected. He made a noncommittal grunt.

Ashley looked at him. "The mold will allow us to conserve batteries. We still don't know how far we have to travel before we find our way out of this hellhole, so we better think conservation. Try to stick to lighted passage-ways as much as possible. Besides, the more light around us, the safer I feel."

Michaelson nodded. As much as it grated on him, her assessment of the situation was sound. He couldn't have planned any better. "Let's go, then," he said.

Ben took the point again. He turned his light to a weak diffuse setting, just enough to highlight some of the blacker nooks and crannies. Otherwise, the thickening mold added sufficient glow to see by. Ben waved them to turn off their lights, including their helmet lamps.

Michaelson followed Ben. Ashley covered their rear, pistol in hand. Michaelson ground his molars, both from the pain and his frustration with his physical shape. He should be guarding their retreat or sweeping ahead for dangers. Not sandwiched in the middle like some sheltered mama's boy.

Still, he couldn't argue with the order of their procession. Ben had already skipped several yards ahead while Michaelson hobbled to keep up. Glancing behind him, balanced on his good foot, he watched Ashley check the passage behind her. She swung forward and caught him staring at her. She smiled weakly at him, almost like she was trying to reassure him.

Pinching his brows together angrily, he increased the pace of his hopping. Side passages and crossways flew past. He didn't try to memorize his route, only kept his eyes fixed on Ben's back, struggling to match his pace. As much as his hot blood drove him forward, past the pain, past his incapacitation, eventually his feverish pace dwindled back again to a pathetic crawl. Ben disappeared around a bend in the corridor. Panting now, sparks of lights danced across Michaelson's vision; pain shot in electric bolts from his ankle.

He stopped, leaning on the wall, his side now burning with a hot flame.

Ashley stepped to his shoulder, her voice a mixture of concern and anger. "Quit pushing yourself. We're not in a race. Careful progress is what will get us out of here."

"I'm slowing you up," he said between pain-clenched teeth.

Ben's face suddenly appeared in front of him. Damn, that Aussie moved silently when he wanted to. Ben wore a concerned expression.

Michaelson glared at Ben. "I'm fine." He dared him to argue.

"That's good," said Ben, his voice an urgent whisper, "because I think we're being stalked."

Ashley crossed next to Ben. "What do you mean?"

"I keep hearing something scraping and shuffling in neighboring passages. Keeping pace with us."

"Maybe they're just echoes of our own progress," Ashley said, but her eyes darted behind her. "I haven't heard anything." She glanced at Michaelson. "Have you?"

He shook his head, but he was no judge. All he could hear when he moved was his own wheezing pants and his heart pounding in his ears. Hell, he hadn't even heard Ben approach until he was on top of him.

Ben hissed his words. "You've got to know what to listen for. I know noises that are natural for a cave. And these aren't normal."

"So what do we do?" Ashley asked.

"We need to shake this tail, but it knows these passages better than we do. Our only hope is speed. Outrun it."

Michaelson was very conscious that Ben didn't glance his way. Ashley didn't either, but an uncomfortable silence descended like a weight upon them. He knew what they were thinking. They needed to move quickly but wouldn't leave him behind.

Rolling his eyes, he started to speak when he heard it too. They all did. Six eyes turned in unison to their back trail. Something scraped rock behind them, out of sight, followed by the sound of a single pebble displaced and bouncing. Something was back there.

"Leave me," he said. He pulled his pistol and pointed it. Not down the trail but at Ashley and Ben. "Now."

"Quit that shit," Ben said. "We're not in some damned Rambo movie. We know you're not gonna shoot us."

"I won't allow my injuries to get us all killed." He raised the barrel to his own temple, pressing the cold muzzle to his heated skin. "Go or I'll shoot."

"Michaelson…" Ashley's voice was tight with fear. "We're a team."

"Go. I'll cover the back trail for as long as possible."

"No!" Ashley said. "You're coming with us."

"Go." He cocked the pistol with his thumb. "Now. Or in three seconds you'll have no one to cover your escape."

He watched Ashley swallow hard and glance at Ben for help. If either rushed him, he would pull the trigger. He knew he needed to force them to leave him behind. A second pebble tripped somewhere behind them.

Ben turned to Ashley, the stubborn set of his shoulders slumped. "He's right. We've got to think of the others. If we don't reach help, they'll all die too."

Ashley's fists clenched, her knuckles white. "I hate this."

Ben rested a hand on her shoulder. He turned his eyes to Michaelson. "I know you're keen on this suicide mission. Kamikaze and all that. But up five yards ahead is a small alcove with a tiny pool of water. It's large enough to hide three Marines in there. I suggest you hole up. It'll be a secure spot to keep out of sight and offers good coverage if you need to shoot."

Michaelson nodded, suspicious. "Go. I'll check it later."

Ben pulled Ashley away. "C'mon. Maybe we can lead the pursuers away from him."

She allowed herself to be shifted away, but not before her eyes locked on the major's one final time, tears at the corners of her lids. "Dennis, be careful. Don't do anything stupid."

He waved her away with the muzzle of the gun. He watched her twist around and leave with Ben's arm around her. They disappeared around the bend without a glance behind. He listened as their footfalls faded down the tunnel until there was only silence. He listened carefully, ears straining, making sure they had definitely left, as well as trying to hear any telltale sound of the stalkers.

He heard nothing other than his own pulse throbbing at his temples. He continued to wait. Still after nearly an hour, nothing appeared or was even heard. Maybe Ben had been panicked over nothing, but he couldn't convince himself. Ben was too wise in cave lore to be fooled by an echo or natural noises.

He licked his dry lips, caked with dust and dried sweat. He swirled the canteen at his belt. Almost empty. He'd better take Ben's advice and check that alcove. Fill his canteen and hole up there.

Wincing, he stumbled as quietly as possible down the tunnel, searching for the side cave. The scrape of his boot on the rocky floor sounded explosively loud in the empty tunnel. Luckily, only steps past the turn in the passage, a small black aperture appeared in the right wall of the tunnel. He clicked on his lantern and flashed the opening with his light. It was dark in there, no glowing fungus, just emptiness. The roof was low. Too low to stand up in, but by crouching he could enter and move around. In the corner, a small trickle of water ran down the rear wall and accumulated in a puddle.

He tested it with a finger. A strong mineral tang but should be okay to drink. After finishing the dregs of his canteen, he positioned his canteen under the trickle to collect the fresh water.

Satisfied, he settled by the opening, hidden in shadow; the glow of the mold-encrusted passage allowed him to view both directions in secret. It was a secure post. He waited, his gun pointing forward.

Cowards, she thought, that's all we are-cowards. No matter how logical their decision to abandon Michaelson was, Ashley still felt like a dog running with its tail between its legs.

She followed Ben's back through the twisting maze. Almost five hours had elapsed, and during brief rest breaks to sip warm water from her canteen, she still heard the noises trailing them, sometimes from a long distance away, sometimes from just around a blind bend.

Ben stopped ahead of her, his brow drenched in sweat, and unscrewed the lid of his canteen. He raised it to his lips and took a short swig. Wiping the cuff of his sleeve across his mouth, he said, "It doesn't make bloody sense." He shook the canteen and frowned at it.

Hers was almost empty too. "What do you mean?"

"By now we should have either lost this tail or been caught. This stalemate is bloody odd."

"Maybe we've just been lucky."

A tumble of loose rock down a tunnel to their right caused them both to jump.

Ben scrunched up his nose as if he smelled something foul. "I don't trust luck any more than these caves."

She capped her own canteen after sipping just enough to flush the rock dust from her mouth. "Let's go."

Ben set a faster pace, his shoulder muscles knotted with tension, his gun tight in his hand.

This constant waiting was getting to her also. What the hell was stalking them? And why wasn't it attacking? Her stomach churned with hot acid. She almost wished their pursuers would pounce. At least then she could fight… do something instead of running in fear.

For the next hour, they traversed numerous tunnels, some heading up, some heading down, some with smooth floors, some tumbled with boulders, some illuminated with fungus, some black as pitch.

Ben held his silver compass in his free hand. "We're heading in the wrong direction. Away from the base."

"What choice do we have?" Hunger and the twisting passages were making Ashley dizzy. She had been nibbling dry rations as they moved, but she needed a meal. She found herself dreaming of a cheeseburger with an extra-large order of fries. And, of course, a Coca-cola. This warmed spit in her canteen failed to even moisten her mouth.

She tripped over a rock, dulled reflexes causing her to stumble to her knees. She tried to push herself up, but then her legs protested, muscles tired and strained. She collapsed back down with a sigh.

Ben returned to her and crouched down. "We can't stop now."

"I know," she said heavily. "Just need a minute, that's all."

He sat next to her, resting a hand on her knee, squeezing her thigh reassuringly. "We'll get out of here."

"Will we?" she whispered. What if they didn't make it out of here? She thought of her son, ensconced in the security of Alpha Base, and hung her head. At least Jason was safe. If something happened to her…

She gritted her teeth. To hell with that type of thinking! She would see her son again. She pictured his silly grin when something surprised him, the way his hair had a stubborn cowlick, causing it to stick out behind one ear. She pushed Ben's hand off her knee and stood up. Even if it meant wrestling every damned predator in this hellhole, she would see her son again. "C'mon," she said, offering her hand to help Ben stand. "We've got to find a way home."

"Sounds bloody fine to me." Ben grinned one of his wide smiles, every tooth showing, then set off down the passage.

She tramped after him, determined now, ready to run miles if necessary. But after only a hundred yards, Ben stopped. He held a hand up in the air, his ear cocked.

She remained silent, straining to hear. But she heard nothing unusual. "Ben…? What is it?"

"A breeze." He pointed to a side tunnel.

She stepped next to him. Now that he mentioned it, she could feel a slight wafting from the passageway, raising a few stray strands of her black hair. "What does it mean?"

"I think… it's the end of this maze."

"Then let's go." She headed out, taking the lead this time.

As they progressed, the passage narrowed with sudden knife-sharp turns, the breeze becoming stronger and stronger. The fungus on the walls had thinned as they followed the turns; eventually they were forced to click on their hand lanterns and helmet lamps.

After almost a mile of trekking, Ben spat, "Bloody hell."

"What?"

"We've yet to cross a single side passage in this chute. It would be easy to get pinned down in here. No escape routes."

She frowned and continued. Great. One more thing to worry about. But they were committed, with only one way to go: straight ahead.

As she worked around the next tight bend in the corridor, the roof lowered. Crouching, she continued. The breeze had become a wind, blowing hair about her face, whipping it behind her as if pointing for them to turn back. The rushing air whistled in her ears.

Ben poked her from behind. "Did you hear that?"

She twisted around. "What?"

"They're behind us now-and they're coming fast."

She turned around, her lips drawn into tight lines. She increased the pace, crouching and running into the wind. She turned the next corner, and the passageway ended just yards ahead. Wind blew from a wormhole opening at the end of the tunnel. The first they had seen since entering the maze.

She ran forward, praying that this tunnel would lead up, toward home. She knelt beside the opening and pointed her lantern. The sight forced a groan from between her lips. It not only led downward, but at a frighteningly steep slope, deeper into the heart of the continent.

Ben leaned beside her. He already had his sled out and was releasing the catch to expand it. "Better hurry, Ash. They're about a hundred yards behind us."

She pointed at the wormhole sullenly. "It heads down. Pretty far too, I'd say."

"We can't go back." He helped her unstrap her sled. "I have the sneaking suspicion that we've been herded to this place."

"What?" She unhooked the catch to expand her sled.

A scrabble of rock echoed from behind them.

"No time," Ben said. He waved to the hole. "Ladies first." He pointed his gun to their back trail.

Ashley glanced at the black tunnel behind them, then at Ben. She took a deep breath and shoved into the wormhole on her sled. The steepness of the slope quickly accelerated her plummet. She braked with the heels of her gloved hands and toes of her boots, but succeeded only in slowing her pace slightly.

She heard Ben enter the wormhole behind her, his wheels whisking toward her.

"Hell!" he called to her. "It's like a slide. Let's see those bastards catch us now!"

By now, her rate of descent was such that it burned her hands to brake, even through her climbing gloves. And as they flew farther down the tube, the fungus began appearing in patches on the walls.

"We're in a big corkscrew!" yelled Ben. "Can you feel the centrifugal force?"

She did. Her board kept climbing higher on the walls as their speed increased and the tunnel's curves tightened. To try to brake now was impossible. During their flying descent, the fungus had grown thicker and thicker, its glow almost blinding now. The mold also made the walls slick so even the tips of her boots dragging across the floor failed to offer any significant braking.

She hoped the tunnel would level out before ending. Give them a chance to slow down. At this speed, she'd hate to be spewed out of the tunnel right into a slumbering stalagmite. She watched the tunnel ahead, praying for an easing of the slope.

No such luck. The tunnel exit appeared around the next bend. No time to brake. No time to slow down. Only time to cover her head with her arms and cringe.

She shot out of the tunnel, blasting into the next cavern. Blinded for a moment by the bright light, she jolted and bounced across the slightly rugged floor. When her eyes adjusted, she saw herself barreling toward a solid wall of yellow vegetation. Closing her eyes, she slammed into the thick stalks of growth. Her collision tumbled her from her board, but the field cushioned her fall as she rolled for several yards.

Once stopped, she pushed to her knees. She was almost up when Ben tumbled into her with a wild yell. She fell in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Well, that was different," Ben said, speaking to her left knee.

She untangled herself and stood up with a groan. Bruised everywhere, she glanced around as Ben stood up. The field of yellow vegetation, like wheat, stood chest-high and spread for miles across the rolling cavern floor. Miles! She craned her neck around. The cavern was monstrous, dwarfing even Alpha Cavern. Almost like the Grand Canyon-but with a lid. The walls stretched hundreds of stories high. The roof, far overhead, glowed with thick fungus, some patches glowing as bright as sunlight. She glanced across the smooth yellow fields that undulated across the wide plain, broken only by tiny groves of spindly trees, like islands in a sea.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," Ashley said, with her mouth hanging open.

A rustle of vegetation drew her attention from the panorama around them. From several yards away, something was working through the field toward them, maneuvering around clusters of trees. Too low to be seen except for the wake of bending stalks, like a shark through water.

She glanced at Ben as she backed away. He pointed off to the left. Two more wakes arrowed toward them. She studied the field more closely, now noticing three other trails moving in their direction. Six in all.

She backed away, pulling Ben's sleeve. He didn't resist.

Almost tripping, she stepped from the field onto bare rock and stumbled back until she stood by the wormhole opening. Their sleds were lost somewhere in the field. Reaching for her pistol, her hand touched the empty holster. Damn, the gun must have been knocked away by her fall.

She turned to Ben. Thankfully, he had his pistol already gripped in his right hand.

"I lost mine," she said between tight lips.

"That's all right. I lost my extra clips. And I've got only three shots left on this clip."

She stared at the six trails inching slowly toward them. Not good. The nearest one was only ten yards away now. It had stopped and held its position. Waiting. Soon the others had drawn even with it.

"The wormhole?" she asked.

"Sounds good to me. Go on in."

Their words seemed to jar the stalkers in the field. They rushed with lightning speed. With their sudden movement, Ashley froze crouched by the wormhole, like a deer in headlights. The six creatures burst through the wall of vegetation, then stopped in unison, hunkering on all fours, haunches raised, ready to spring, tails slashing.

They looked like a cross between a wolf and a lion. Amber-furred, a cowl of thick mane around their necks, huge eyes, slitted pupils, long jaws bristling with fierce teeth. A steady growl arose from the pack.

"Freeze," Ben whispered. "No sudden moves."

She wasn't about to move, still frozen in her crouch, her eyes glued to the six sets of unblinking eyes that stared at her. And she was willing to stay that way for as long as it took, until something shot from the wormhole and grabbed her ankle. A high-pitched scream burst from her throat.