Then the mountain would be hers alone.
Chapter Nineteen
O'Doyle's feet gingerly touched the chasm bottom. He let the rope hold most of his weight as he carefully watched his footing on the treacherous ground. Certainly looked like a good place to break a leg; jagged rock stuck up all over like spikes in a Burmese tiger trap. O'Doyle kept one hand on the rope, the other on his H&K. The weapon's strap looped over his neck and around his back.
He turned his head, moving the headlamp light across the steep-walled chasm. He saw it almost instantly, a touch of wetness in the forever-arid area. Only a touch — most of it was already dry. The chasm's zero humidity dried things out in a hurry. Even in the strange lighting, there was no mistaking it.
A splatter pattern of blood.
O'Doyle examined it. About two feet off the ground and three feet long, horizontal with a slight angle, a center streak of red surrounded by a spray of fine droplets. The victim had been sitting four or five feet from the wall.
He moved to the spot where Jansson probably sat. There was more blood on the ground rocks, also dry. He carefully probed the area, then his light fixed on something pale and white.
O'Doyle picked it up, inspected it, then flashed his light rapidly around the chasm, looking for any threat. He started back up the rope with an expert's speed. He wanted out of that chasm, and wanted out now.
When Sonny heard the news of Jansson's disappearance, he made up his mind once and for all. It just wasn't worth it. The rest of these idiots could delude themselves all they wanted, but not Sonny McGuiness. No way.
He'd researched as Connell requested. He'd found several disturbing things that Connell chose to ignore. Well, they couldn't be ignored anymore. One man was missing, two more sat in the hospital. It sounded crazy, but Sonny knew what was going on.
Funeral Mountain was slowly waking up.
Sonny could feel it in his bones. That awful feeling he'd had from the first day on Funeral Mountain was getting worse. He couldn't stand it any more. He'd lose his percentage — but he'd just have to make it up somewhere else. Dead men can't count cash. Something about that strange cave drawing still haunted him, something he couldn't put his finger on. It added to his unease, to his instinctive desire to leave.
Besides, he still knew about the second entrance. He'd wanted to tell Connell about it, but just couldn't — that bit of information was too tasty to give up for free. Maybe he could cut a deal with Connelclass="underline" give up the second entrance in exchange for keeping one percent of the mine's profits. Maybe, maybe not, but he'd make that deal via a phone call, because he was getting the hell out of Dodge.
Sonny packed his bags. Tomorrow morning he'd talk to Connell and get permission to leave. Connell held the keys to Sonny's Hummer, just like he held the keys to every vehicle in the camp. Sonny didn't care; he'd get the keys one way or another. He had to get out. Hopefully he could talk Cho into leaving with him — the kid-doctor had a lot of potential, and Sonny didn't want to see him hurt or dead.
Whether Cho came or not wouldn't stop Sonny, for he knew in his soul that if he stayed much longer, Funeral Mountain would get him as well.
The night air started to chip away the day's heat, but didn't stop Connell's sweat-fest. He stood at the adit mouth, clutching the phone that ran all the way to the shaft bottom over two miles away. What Mack told him over the phone didn't help to cool him down.
With more miners in the tunnels to hunt for Brian Jansson, Mack had continued toward the Dense Mass per Connell's orders. Mack had discovered a large cavern — and in it found something completely unexpected. He'd trekked forty-five minutes back to the elevator shaft in order to call up to the surface.
"You've got to come down and see it, mate,” Mack said, the excitement in his voice not quite masking his exhaustion. “I'm not kidding. O'Doyle's here with me and he agrees. You'd best bring the professors, too."
"Are you nuts, Mack?” Connell said, drawing stares from workers hauling loose rock out of the adit. “You know what those two will do if they see it."
"What they do doesn't matter, Mr. Kirkland. You made a deal."
It was all Mack needed to say. He was right. Connell had promised Veronica she would be informed of anything they found, and he would keep his word, despite the fact that Mack's new discovery might give her the ammunition she needed to shut the mine down completely.
"Okay,” Connell said. “I'm coming down with the professors. Any sign of Jansson?"
"Not a lick, mate. We're going to set up our first base camp in the new cavern, then I'm going to take the fresh hands back to explore the tunnels around the chasm where Jansson disappeared. We've got six men there now, but they don't think they can cover the area in a reasonable amount of time."
"But I told you to press forward, Mack."
"Yes sir, you did,” Mack said. “But according to the maps Angus made, there's about thirty small tunnels in that area. The men there say the tunnels are difficult to navigate, which is slowing them down. It's my opinion we need to focus all of our manpower there. O'Doyle just told me he went into the chasm and found blood — Jansson's hurt, sir, and if he's still alive his time is running out."
Connell leaned against the adit wall, his fingers drumming lightly on the rough limestone, ba-da-ba-bump, ba-da-ba-bump. He wanted Mack to press forward, but he couldn't keep asking him to abandon one of his men.
"Let me talk to O'Doyle.” Connell waited while the phone shifted hands.
"Mr. Kirkland?” O'Doyle said.
"Yes."
"This is absolutely amazing. I've never seen anything like it."
"I've heard all about the sights, Mr. O'Doyle, what about Jansson?"
"Nothing yet, sir, but we're looking. It's slow going when it takes forty-five minutes just to reach the phone."
Connell heard something in the man's voice, as if a detail remained unclarified. “What did you find, Mr. O'Doyle?"
"I rappelled into the chasm. I found a blood streak on the wall."
"What did you make of it?"
"It was two feet up from the floor. It's a splatter pattern. Definitely not from someone just falling and bumping their head. Looks to me like a slashing wound, one that cut deep."
"You think it's Jansson's?"
"Unless someone else down here is bleeding, yes. There's more, but I'd rather tell you in person. I don't think I should say anything else over this line.
Ba-da-ba-bump, ba-da-ba-bump.
"O'Doyle, is it safe to bring the professors down there?"
"Yes, sir, it's safe. We've got plenty of firepower. If someone did attack Jansson, there's a big difference between an unarmed man with a wounded leg and four trained guards armed with automatic weapons. Look, Mack insists on searching for Jansson, sir, but you need to get down here ASAP.” O'Doyle paused, as if he didn't want to reveal more bad news. “Someone… someone beat us down here,” he said finally.
Connell didn't answer. He gazed absently at a rock on the ground. The words didn't seem to register in his mind.
"Sir?” O'Doyle said. “Did you hear me?"
"Yes, I did. How do you know?"
"You'll see when you get here,” O'Doyle said.
Connell sighed and hung up. Anger fought defeat for dominance of his emotions. Someone, somehow, had reached the caverns before EarthCore.
It wasn't over yet. He pushed defeat from his mind and focused on the anger. He'd put too much time into this project to let someone else walk away with the prize.