She suddenly went down hard. She had tripped over a half buried log. She scrambled to her feet and took off running again. She could feel the branches stinging her face as he blindly ran, trying to put distance between her and the pursuers.
She stopped. Dogs. She could hear them barking. Oh God, they were going to let the dogs track her down. She changed directions slightly and took off running as fast as she could. She stepped in a small creek and started running along in the water. She was hoping the water would throw them off but the barking seemed to be growing steadily louder.
She could hear shouting voices further away but her real concern was the dogs. They may tear her to shreds before the handlers could stop them. She stumbled and fell face first in the creek but jumped up and kept going. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and she could feel the lactic acid building up in her legs. She wouldn’t be able to go much longer.
Almost as a miracle she burst into a clearing and stopped dead in her tracks. It was the van. She ran to the door and yanked on it. It was locked. The dogs were getting closer she knew she didn’t have much time. She remembered the spare key under the front fender. She hadn’t checked to see if it was still there for years.
Frantically she reached under the fender and ran her hands along the inside of the fender well. She found the metal box and pulled it free. It was rusted and she had to push with all her remaining strength to get the top to slide enough for her to get the key out.
The dogs were breaking into the clearing as she shoved the key in the door. She unlocked it and jumped in the van slamming the door just as one of the dogs jumped for the window. His nose hit the window leaving a slimy streak. Three dogs were jumping and trying to get in the van.
She didn’t have time to worry about anything except getting out of there. She stuck the key in the ignition and looked out the window. The three dogs had stopped and were trotting back to the trees. She let out a big sigh. They must have given up. She turned the ignition key.
The explosion could be heard as it ripped through the clearing and down into the valley below. The van was nothing more than a fireball of twisted metal.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
“Okay, we’re opening the door. Bill is going to go first and I have hold of his lifeline in case the BARD isn’t stable.”
“Be very careful,” he could hear Buck say.
Jones carefully made his way down and put his foot on the broken wreck. He put his other foot down and bounced up and down.
“It’s good. I think it’s wedged in here,” he said.
“Okay, I’m coming down,” Mark said and emulated the way Bill had gone down.
“Feels pretty solid, what do you think?” Mark asked.
“Seem good to me. I’ll go first. Just follow where I go.”
“Got it.”
“Okay, here we go,” Jones said and started backing down the side of the machine.
There were pipes and pieces of metal along the side and he had no trouble finding a hand or foot hold. Mark followed along, staying to the same spots he had seen Jones use.
“I’m at the top of the mist layer,” Jones informed him.
“Can you see anything below?”
“No way. I’m going to start down.”
“Slow and easy. There could be a sharp object that could snag your suit,” Mark warned.
“I’ll be slow and easy,” Jones said and started making his way down.
Mark watched as his body slowly disappeared beneath the layer of mist. It looked like he had simply vanished.
“You okay?” Mark asked.
“Man, it’s really thick. It’s kind of hard to see but if I wave my hand I can get a glimpse of my feet.”
“Maybe we should hold up and try a different way,” Mark suggested.
“No, it’s okay, just that one spot is tricky. It’s getting lighter. I can make out shapes and things now. Come one down. I’ll guide you,” Jones said.
Mark was hesitant but decided he had come this far, stopping now would be unproductive. Besides it would make him look bad. He took a deep breath and started down. Once the mist closed over him he almost panicked.
“Looking good,” he heard Jones say.
He relaxed and kept going. He felt Jones place his hand on his leg.
“Got ya. You’re almost there,” Jones said.
“Thanks,” Mark said as he was ready to take his last step. Suddenly his leg was yanked back and he fell forward, his face shield bouncing off the side of the BARD.
Jones shoved him off balance and he fell hard to the floor.
“What the hell are you trying to..” was all he got out before Jones was trying to grab for his re-breather hoses.
Instinctively Mark swatted his hand away and lashed out with his foot. It caught Jones in the knee and caused him to lose his footing. He crashed to the floor trying to claw his way to Mark.
“Stop. What the hell. Are you crazy,” Mark screamed.
He could hear Buck yelling in his ear but he didn’t have time to answer. Jones had produced a knife from someplace and was crouched down ready to leap. Mark knew he couldn’t fight a man with a knife. All he had to do was slice his suit and he was as good as dead. He backed up and tried to slide around the side of the BARD but there wasn’t enough room.”
“Why are you doing this? What’s the point? No matter if you do kill me, you will never get out of here alive. Buck will never raise the gondola.”
“I’m dying anyway,” he finally said, “I’ve only got a few weeks to live. If I have to die I might as well do it for my country,” Jones said, swaying back-and-forth.
“Dying? How do you know? Did you have a doctor check you out? Is this just what they told you?”
He could see Jones frown through his faceplate.
“You didn’t, did you? You took their word for it. What did they tell you that you had? What kind of symptoms?” Mark pushed.
“I don’t know. Some big long name. It gets in your body all over and screws with your inner-ear. People die of it all the time.”
“And you just believed them. They wanted you to go down in this shaft, kill me and what? Just sit here and die? Wow, that’s some plan.”
“Not exactly," he said reaching into another hidden pocket and pulling out a small device.
“What the hell is it?”
“Semtex. Just this much will blow this place to hell and back. The blast will reverberate off the walls and collapse a big part of the shaft.”
“I see. So this master plan is to blow yourself up? Kind of like the Islamic fanatics? Strap a bomb on and just blow yourself to little pieces of goo. That is some plan. Well it’s a good thing you had yourself checked out. Oh, by the way, it sounds like they told you that you have Pneumococcal Disease.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Well the joke's on you Bill. It affects mostly older people and real young children. Now I’m not sure but you seem older than, say seven or eight.”
“That’s crap. They told me I was going to die.”
“Bill…”
“My name’s not Bill. Or Jones. It’s Daren Roundhouse.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured Bill Jones wasn’t you’re real name. Look Daren, they sent you down here on a suicide mission. Do you even know why?”
“I know it’s vital to the national security. That’s enough.”
“Is it? What is this national security? Daren we have had over fifty million people die because of something down here. Don’t you even want to know what it is?”
“It doesn’t matter. The genie is out of the bottle.”
“But if we can find out what was mixed with the Ebola, we may be able to stop it and save the rest of the population. Are you willing to kill almost the entire planet because someone said you might be dying?”