“What the hell is that?” Hunter asked as his team assembled outside the wooden barricade that blocked the tunnel’s entrance.
“Flamethrower,” Drake replied with serious pride.
“Flamethrower?” Hunter both exclaimed and asked in disbelief.
“That it is,” Drake replied. “One all American flamethrower made and sold by America’s favorite inventor Elon Musk.”
“The car guy?” Hunter asked.
“The one and only,” Drake answered
“His cars come with flamethrowers now?” Hunter seriously inquired.
“Don’t know,” Drake answered. “I just bought one of his flamethrowers. I’m not into electric cars. I’m more of a diesel kind of gal.”
“Time’s wasting,” Taylor interrupted. “Sun’s going down. I want to be at the massacre point when it’s dark above and below the earth.”
“It’s your mission,” Hunter assured Taylor with a smile.
Taylor stood before the plywood and timber reinforced garage door. He held his rifle supported by a Spec-Ops Patrol Sling before him and at the ready. He turned his head away from the group and whispered into his radio, “COMMS check.”
The team answered with their names one by one and Taylor turned to face them.
“We’re going underground and into a pitch-black void,” Taylor commanded. “Do not let your mind get the best of you. Trust the gear, stay tight, and stay focused.”
The team nodded and gave thumbs up and formed two lines before the sealed tunnel. Taylor pointed to Juan and Arturo and they quickly took their places at the barricade. Taylor turned and pointed to José who stood next to a bank of light switches at the far wall. José nodded, flipped the switch, and the windowless interior of the barn was plunged into total darkness.
28.
Dejah felt like she was in a fevered dream.
Her state reminded her of the time she had the flu. She had laid in bed for three days, unsure if she was awake or not. Things would happen and she’d later wonder if they had truly occurred.
Had her mother really bathed her in bed?
Had her grandmother really brought her soup?
These encounters had seemed real, but Dejah couldn’t be sure when recalling them.
The same held true of her time in the cave.
The view through the hole above her showed dusk.
Had she really been alone in the cave she’d fallen into for almost a full day?
Or had it been two days?
She remembered taking a nap in the beam of light that shone through the point of her entrance earlier in the day. Had she slept through the day then the night and into another day?
She couldn’t be sure.
She stared at the sky high, high above her and wondered.
Wondered when her mother would finally come get her and what they’d eat to celebrate their being back together again. She really hoped that the reunion would happen soon, as she was starving.
After all, she hadn’t eaten anything in a day.
Or was it two days?
She remembered trying to quell her hunger with several trips to the small stream that flowed beneath the pinpoint of light deeper within the cave. Her drinking did little to ease her hunger and the light—all the lights—were now gone.
Did the lack of light mean the dogs or whatever they were would start growling again?
She’d heard them lots of times during her time in the cave. Sometimes they’d bark; other times they’d shriek or howl. They sounded like dogs, kind of like dogs but she couldn’t be sure.
Not because she couldn’t remember but because their cries were so faint and came from so far away.
They were still scary though. The sounds they made didn’t sound like they were friendly dogs.
Not at all.
They sounded mean and angry.
Dejah hoped maybe with the coming of night they’d go to sleep.
29.
Taylor dropped his thermal imaging goggles from his helmet and onto his face. The lightless void before him came into stereovision and he watched as the blaze-white heat signatures of Juan and Arturo opened the barricaded garage door. Taylor nodded and the team entered the tunnel slowly and deliberately. They had walked maybe 10 yards when the team dropped into the kneeling position. Taylor turned and watched as Juan and Arturo shut the doors behind them.
The team paused for a time to see if the noise of the door attracted any attention from deeper inside the tunnel. When none came, the team moved forward with Taylor’s line hugging the left-hand side of the tunnel and Hunter’s line taking the right side. The floor they hiked upon was mostly loose dirt and made for easy and silent movement. They’d gone another 10 minutes in when Taylor brought the group to a halt and knelt next to wallow in the earth. He pulled Julio closer and whispered, “What happened here?” The group listened on the COMM channel as Julio sniffed and breathed into his microphone, trying to hold back tears.
“I almost to give up,” Julio whispered. “I could no drag no more. I fall. Try to stand again.”
Taylor put his hand on Julio’s back in a sign of compassion. He held it there for a moment then stood and took his team further and deeper into the tunnel.
The further they went into the Earth, the more stagnant the air became. The team’s boots inadvertently kicked up sand and clouds of dust plumed from the floor. The team hugged the walls, occasionally and inadvertently an individual catching the wall with their shoulder or arm. Julio did this twice and each time recoiled in horror and away from the unseen that had reached from the darkness to grab him. This, along with the smell of the tunnel and seeing the spot where he had almost given up on dragging his brother’s body back from hell, brought back a flood of emotions.
He felt the fear of that day.
The weakness of being able to crawl out from under his brother to help ward off the nightmares.
The rage of his brother’s killing.
And the desperation to get his brother’s body to safety.
Julio was brought out of his memories by Taylor’s sudden stop. Julio almost ran into the heat signature before him and he shuffled his feet to keep from doing so. The team came to a halt and watched in either night or thermal vision as Taylor pointed to a spot on the tunnel ceiling some 15 yards before them. The heat signature was small, oval-shaped, and not much larger than a fist.
“Julio?” Taylor whispered.
“No bats when I here,” Julio answered.
Taylor immediately analyzed the situation.
He theorized that the animal had entered the tunnel from a natural cave rather than a rival’s newly dug tunnel. It took bats weeks if not months to accept a new roosting spot and them doing so while the area was under construction was most unlikely. Still, Taylor thought, it doesn’t mean soldiers couldn’t have come through a natural cave. All they would need was a way in.
Taylor kept his thoughts to himself and led the team onward. They passed under the bat and it remained wedged in a small crack on the tunnel ceiling, unfazed or unaware by the team passing beneath it.
The team traveled onward, each step taking them further and deeper under the earth. The temperature dropped and the air grew more stale. They had hiked another 30 minutes without incident or sign of life of any kind when a draft was felt. The air was cooler, more humid, and carried with it the overwhelming stench of rot and decay, viscera and blood.
Julio panicked at the wretch. His mind flooded with the still-fresh memories of the attack. He couldn’t breathe and the helmet and goggles the team was making him wear were too constrictive. He gasped for air but each and every breath filled his lungs with the taste of death. Taylor sensed Julio’s change and brought the team to a halt. He turned to Julio and whispered, “You’re fine. Take a deep breath. Relax.”