Kraken Rising

CHAPTER 31

The languid stream moved like oil as it traveled away into the seemingly endless dark cave. Captain Wu Yang walked out into the water to his knees, and dipped a hand, cupping some water and lifting it, shining his flashlight into it and examining it closely. He sniffed, then squinted — there seemed to be tiny dust motes floating in the liquid — rock particles maybe. He flicked his hand, and waded out further to his thighs, shining his flashlight down into the water.

“So, if need be, at least we will not die of thirst.” He turned back to his team. “But for now, do not drink. Only what’s in your canteens.” He wiped his hands, carefully walking from the water and over to where Shenjung Xing stood slightly apart from the soldiers.

“So, Comrade Shenjung, we follow the river, and hope it comes out at the coast or surfaces somewhere shallow enough for us to break through, yes?”

Shenjung looked from the water to the PLA captain, and then shrugged. “All options present the same chance of success or failure.” He turned back towards the dark, slow moving liquid. “But I agree that following the stream might take us to an area where we can potentially breach.”

Yang grunted. “We follow the river.” He looked at his signal locator. “Good; this is also the direction the beacon is emanating from, so maybe this is where the American submarine became wedged under the ice.” He lifted his flashlight, squinting into the darkness. “If the cave narrows any more, we will need to take to the water.” He turned, pointing to several of his men. “Switch off your lights. Lead and rear lights only — we need to preserve our resources now.”

Yang clicked his fingers. “Han Biao, Liu Yandong, take the scouting position, one hundred feet. Go.”

The two men half bowed and Shenjung watched as they jogged out along the black sandy bank. Yang turned to Shenjung, his voice lowered.

“Doctor, I estimate we have food for another forty-eight hours. We can survive without that for much longer. Water is now not a problem. But our batteries will soon be exhausted, and our lights will then yellow and fade. We can extend their life by conservation of usage, but…” He turned to the winding watercourse in the pitch cave, before returning to look at Shenjung with a humorless smile. “Darkness has a way of breaking the strongest of us, Doctor. It would be best if we found our way out long before the lights go out.”

Yang heard the faint scream come at them in a wave from somewhere far back, or was it far ahead? Flashlight beams came on, and flicked back and forth, before Yang barked at his men to shut them down.

“Nothing. Rocks settling, or water. Nothing.” He glared, and then turned to Shenjung. The scientist nodded once, but then looked away.

Yang turned back to the darkness, straining to hear anything more. He licked dry lips; he knew a man’s cry of fear when he heard it. Maybe one of the engineers was following them and slipped into a crevasse. He concentrated, but save for the faintest movement of water, there was silence.

He turned back to the soldiers. “Hoy!” They assembled and he led them down the river cave.

PLA commandos Han Biao and Liu Yandong jogged along the riverbank and then out of sight around the bend in the cave.

“Slow now,” Liu said as he began to walk.

“But Captain Yang said a hundred feet; we are only about half that,” Han Biao responded, not caring for Liu’s tone.

“Yang isn’t here. They take a break while we run in the dark. You run if you want.” Liu held up the only flashlight, moving the beam over the bank and walls.

Beneath their boots, the black sand scrunched and squeaked, and stuck to the iron lace holes in their boots. Beside them the water made little sound except for the occasional plink or gurgle as a tiny wave splashed up against the cave sides.

Liu shined the light on the far wall and it wetly reflected his beam back at them. “This stream has probably been traveling like this, far below the ground, for millions of years. It has probably never seen the sun.” He pointed the light at Han. “Do you think we will find our way out?”

Han held a hand up to block his colleague’s light. “If the water can find a way out, then we can too.” He turned away, rubbing at a spot on his shoulder where the toughened uniform material was torn from the previous cave-in. He rolled his shoulder, feeling the abrasion there, and knowing he carried several more cuts and contusions underneath his clothes. When they next rested, he would need to attend to his wounds. If his wounds became infected and he became too ill to walk, he doubted Yang would suggest he be carried.

Liu nodded. “I hope so.” He dropped the circle light from Han Biao. “I would hate to have to eat you when we ran out of food.”

Han Biao grinned. “I think we will all be eating Changlong, he is the fattest of all of us.”

Liu stared back along the watercourse. After a moment, his words were softer. “Maybe we should have tried to dig our way back out of the tunnel at the cave-in. At least we’d know where we were then.”

Han Biao sighed, and then shook his head. “I think it collapsed for dozens of feet, and some of the rocks were big as trucks. You would need dynamite, and after a cave-in like that, who would dare use explosives? We will either find a new way out, or…”

“We eat Changlong.” Liu scoffed softly. “Or we go mad in the dark.” He turned away. “Let’s go.”

Up ahead the tunnel curved and their riverbank ended, making the opposite side of the watercourse the one with the dry bank. The men stopped and Liu walked a few feet into the water and held the flashlight out and down. “I don’t think it’s too deep. We will need to cross.” He motioned with the light. “Go across and scout around the bend.”

Han Biao thought briefly about arguing over who should cross, but he knew that sooner or later they all would need to, so he immediately waded into the ink-black water, heading for the opposite bank.

The river wasn’t broad, no more than thirty feet across, and even though the ambient temperature was quite warm, Han Biao didn’t relish the idea of getting soaked. But, his next step plunged him to his chest, and the icy water flowed up and around him, with just a blanket of warmth on his face. He cursed, hearing Liu bray with laughter.

At least the coolness bathed his numerous cuts and abrasions, and hopefully the pristine cave water washed them clean of any debris that had stuck to the wounds. He held his hands up and bounced now, his buoyancy allowing jumps across the languid current, as his feet squished in a slimy mud at the bottom.

In another few moments, he had left the water and strode up on the far bank, stamping his wet boots. He could see that this shoreline was unbroken for as long as the light could reach.

“It continues on. We will travel from here now.” Han Biao sat and unlaced his boots, pulling one off and upending it.

Liu quickly waded across, avoiding the hole that Han Biao had stepped into. In a moment he came up the bank, and sat next to his friend.

“We wait for them.” Liu switched off his light.

Han Biao nodded, and sat shivering from the cold, and then held himself in check, not wanting Captain Yang to see him show any discomfort.

In another moment, they could see the lights of the group approaching. He reached up to scratch at a tingling itch at one of the larger abrasions on his chest.

Good, he thought — first sign of healing.

Minutes before, minuscule fragments of Han Biao’s clothing, skin, and blood had been washed ahead of him down the river, and within an environment that was near devoid of life, and food, every scrap was eagerly sought and pursued. From beneath the mud, from out of cracks in the submerged cave wall and floor, tiny thread-like heads pushed out to sample the water, waving back and forth momentarily, tracking its source, before launching themselves, sperm like, their tiny tails flicking madly towards Han Biao. Above the water, the man felt nothing, as his body, and every scrape, cut, and graze on it, became a source of great interest to the worms.

“That’s water… running water.” Casey turned back to Aimee, Soong, and the soldiers. “And there’s more humidity.”

“Yes, I can smell it; we must be close,” Aimee said. She was the only one allowed to use a flashlight, and she kept it pointed at the ground. The HAWCs had switched to night-scopes, and the McMurdo team walked in the dark, following Aimee’s beam. The tunnels were narrowing now, and they only permitted single file movement. Around the group, the darkness was becoming a living thing, and Aimee could feel the weight of the stone around her as if it lay heavily on her shoulders.

The stocky female HAWC led them on, followed by Soong and Aimee, then Parcellis, Hagel, Blake, Dawkins, and Jennifer Hartigan. Bringing up the rear, were the hulking forms of Ben Jackson and Hank Rinofsky. Both Jackson and Rhino were having a difficult time with the caves narrowing and the pace was slowing with both having to move side-on to navigate. Aimee knew that if the space shrunk any more, then Rinofsky and Jackson would either have to find another way, or they’d all have to double back.

From time to time, Aimee would look over her shoulder. It was an eerie sensation, because although the team was strung out with several feet between each of them, all she saw was the intermittent red dots over the eyes of the HAWCs. She knew they saw her, but unless she lifted the flashlight to them, they were invisible.

We’re ghosts in the land of the dead, she thought glumly, and shook her head. What am I doing here? She swallowed down a lump in her throat. I’m sorry, Joshua, I made a terrible mistake.

The image of his beautiful face floated in the darkness, and she drew comfort from it. She saw him laughing, playing, eating, even arguing — all the small moments of their life together. She had raised him from nothing, and all by herself. She was his everything, and he was hers. She sniffed, seeing his tiny face sleeping, the features so relaxed, so innocent, and so… helpless. What the hell was I thinking? she thought miserably, and dragged a forearm across her eyes, wiping away tears, but also grinding dust into them, making them worse.

She heard her son’s voice then: “You need to bring him home.”

I’ll try, she whispered, and, with her head down, she walked on, step after step.

From time to time, the group passed over fissures in the stone — sometimes they needed to step across them in the floor, and other times the wall beside them was torn, as if titanic hands had ripped the stone asunder.

Casey held up a fist, causing Aimee to nearly stumble into Soong. The female HAWC stood frozen for many seconds. Aimee crept up closer, collapsing Soong into the HAWC.

“What is it?”

“Listen,” Casey whispered.

Aimee concentrated, and then held her breath. There was a soft rapid dripping, somewhere off in the darkness. Other than that there was nothing, there wasn’t even breathing, as everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

“I think…”

Casey’s fist was still up, but she flicked a finger to quiet Aimee.

Aimee concentrated again, and then she heard it, or rather, stopped hearing it.

“The dripping… it’s stopped.”

“Yeah,” Casey said softly. “It’s been doing that as if it’s shutting off and on.” She half turned. “Or something is getting in and out of water. Any ideas?”

Aimee felt a coiling in her stomach, but pushed it down and shook her head. “Could be a lot of things. But at this depth, the water seepage should be consistent.”

“Seasonality, variable sinking points, chemical blockages,” Soong said, looking at each woman. “But this happens over longer extended periods — months and years, not minutes.”

Casey’s eyes slid from Soong back to Aimee. “Or something or someone passing underneath the flow?” She waited for a response.

Aimee just shrugged, not wanting to advance any theories that would panic anyone… yet.

Casey pulled her M18X rifle from over her shoulder, and waved them on. “Eyes on, people. Don’t want to run into our PLA friends.” She turned to raise an eyebrow at Aimee. “Or anything else.”