Studying them closely, Hunter could imagine that thousands of years ago the fixtures had indeed resembled either tigers or wolves, but time and erosion had faded the finer features. A large section of the wall was completely smooth, and, gazing down, Hunter could see where it had broken away from the cliff long ago. Crumbled sections of granite, some weighing hundreds of tons, lay scattered across the valley floor.
At first glance the cave seemed inaccessible, but Hunter could see the remains of a trail, now unusable without climbing equipment, that had once led to the opening. Yet, while it would doubtless be a difficult climb for them, Hunter knew the creature could have easily clambered apelike to the entrance.
Rolling thunder rumbled over them and Hunter glanced back to see the storm approaching more quickly, streaking the black-gray wall of cloud with hazy lightning.
"We'll rappel from the top!" Chaney shouted, bringing the Blackhawk to a steady climb. "Looks like it's only about eighty feet, and we have gear for that!"
Removing the headset, Hunter walked into the bay to see Bobbi Jo and Takakura sitting somberly, holding fresh weapons. Bobbi Jo had armed herself with a dozen new clips and a Beretta 9-mm pistol. Hunter knew the sidearm would be all but useless against the creature, but he understood her thinking.
All of them were taking whatever they could find, mainly because they had little choice. Brick still carried the Weatherby, but the big ex-marshal was conspicuously low on rounds, with the bandoleer already half emptied. Still, he compensated for the shortage with the huge sidearm — a Casull .454—that would undoubtedly penetrate the creature's armor-like skin.
As the helicopter settled smoothly on the summit, shuddering slightly at a blast of gathering wind, Hunter turned to Takakura. He saw that the Japanese was armed as before. The katana, now well-used and proven to be an effective weapon against the creature, protruded from behind the Japanese's powerful right shoulder, and he carried a variety of primary weapons — a Beretta semiautomatic pistol plus at least six phosphorous hand grenades and a heavy rifle that Hunter didn't recognize.
Chaney angled into the bay and Brick threw open the port. Then Hunter bent, roughly lifting Dixon. Frowning with terrifying menace, Hunter reached over the CIA man's shoulder and lifted an M-16 and clips. Then he gave them to Dixon, knowing he wouldn't be stupid enough to attack them.
"It's game time," Hunter nodded, ignoring a half-spoken protest as he roughly shoved the agent out of the bay.
Hunter quickly grabbed a large Harris M-98 .50-caliber Browning sniper rifle from the bay. Similar to the Barrett, the Browning was a devastating weapon, easily capable of hitting targets at well over two thousand yards.
The .50-caliber rounds left the barrel at five thousand feet per second, and could penetrate an inch of steel plating. Plus, the gun's lethal effectiveness with the creature had already been demonstrated. But it was at least four feet long, with two-thirds of that in the barrel, so he had to make it more manageable for the close confines of the cave.
Reaching into a toolkit, Hunter lifted a lug wrench and unscrewed the bracing, sliding out the last seventeen inches of heavy barrel. The rifled extension is what provided long-range accuracy, but that kind of accuracy wouldn't be needed. The heavier section that was forged to the receiver would be sufficient for this kind of close-range fighting.
Then, working efficiently though it was an unfamiliar weapon, Hunter removed the scope and shoulder stock, leaving only the pistol grip. It took him two minutes, and when he was finished, he had a compact weapon that still held devastating power. As an afterthought Hunter reached back and attached two thermite grenades — phosphorous-fed incendiaries with a five-second fuse that vulcanized anything they touched — to his belt.
"Let's go!" Chaney said, quickly tuning the radio to a frequency beacon. "We need to get in there before this storm comes down on us! Everybody knows how to do this so we won't waste time! I'll go down first, and Dixon, you come down right after me! Hunter, you come next and let us know real quick if that thing is close or if it's even in there! I don't wanna be down there with my thumb up my ass when it walks up behind me!"
Slinging the Weatherby, Chancy shouldered a small Alice-pack loaded with flares and lights and was gone, descending over the ledge as if he'd done it every day for years.
It took them almost no time and then Hunter was standing deep inside the cave, staring at a tunnel that seemed to lead deep into the mountain. Behind him, flares burned red to the strong smell of sulfur, hissing loudly in a darkness made moist by mist.
Gazing down, Hunter saw where the shale had been disturbed by something passing this way. And he reached out, lightly touching the ground to discern the faint indentations.
Yeah, it was here…
He grinned faintly; he'd taken a chance, but he'd been right. It had retreated to the only place that it thought it could rest without being hunted and hounded. But they couldn't let it escape. For if they did, then it would only continue to kill without end or reason, feeding its lust for blood with more and more blood.
It had to end here. For each of them.
Chaney s voice was unnaturally subdued. "What do you think?" he asked. "Is it here?"
Hunter looked ahead into the darkness. "It's here. It didn't beat us by much. It's gone into the cave."
From the rear Brick growled, "How could it know the way?"
"A lot of animals can find their way back to where they were born," Hunter said, concentrating. "It's like they have some kind of genetic code that compels them to return to a certain place at a certain time. I've seen it before. It's nothing new." He rose and they moved forward, careful to keep the light as far ahead as possible.
As they moved, the tunnel widened, some corridors branching off into inky blackness. But Hunter could read the tracks now, even in the flickering half-light, and knew it was moving on a true course, deep into the vastness of this abyss. Its trail, occasionally marred by blood, was uninterrupted as the tunnel took a downward slant. No, the thing wasn't veering from side to side, distracted or confused by the connecting passages; it was holding a certain path.
Hunter realized vaguely that the thing's nocturnal vision was even more extraordinary than he'd guessed. And, unfortunately, that gave it a distinct advantage in this gloom.
"Wait," he said, lifting a hand.
No one moved or breathed.
"What is it?" Chaney whispered.
Hunter said nothing, staring hard into the darkness, and still they didn't move. Rising, moving along the walls, shadows lent an eerie atmosphere to the broken stone. No sound but the hiss of flares weighed in the air. Hunter finally spoke.
"It's there," he whispered, lifting the Browning. "Somewhere far ahead. I heard it."
Takakura had edged forward. He didn't look at Hunter as he spoke quietly. "What did you hear? I heard nothing."
Shaking his head, Hunter scowled into the vast dark ahead of them, stretching out infinitely to defy their torches. "I don't know. It sounded like… I don't know… like it was attacking. Something like that, and it wasn't close. But it wasn't far." He paused. "Another mile. Maybe two. We'll find out."
Dixon's voice was tremulous. "Jesus Christ, people, this is seriously not a good idea… Look, let's just blow this place and bury the thing! You know, we seriously don't have to go mano a mano with this thing again!"
"I do." Hunter looked at him for a moment. "And that's what I've never liked about people like you, Dixon. You sent hundreds of people to their deaths, and yet you don't have any idea what death is. Do you know why you kill so easily, Dixon?" Hunter let the question settle. "It's because you do your killing with machines — with numbers so you can spare yourself the blood and the horror and the work. And that's why you don't appreciate anybody's skin but your own." Hunter shook his head, leaning closer. "Whoever or whatever gave you the right, Dixon, to decide who deserves to live? That decision belongs to God — not man. And especially not you!" Hunter leaned back, openly revealing his contempt. "Fool."