Chapter 114

Chapter One Hundred Fourteen

The winch line whispered in the dark, echoing off walls that sounded far away. Connor clung to the line with one hand and held Elise tight against him with his other.

“Not long now.” He nodded downward. “See the lights below?”

She groaned. “I’ve always heard not to look down when you’re climbing.”

“You’re not climbing. Anyway, I’ve got you.”

The archaeologist shuddered in his grip. It was almost cool in the night, but she was damp with sweat, and carried the woodsy smells—like rotten fungus.

That was pleasant compared to the sulfuric reek floating up at them.

Overhead, the winch motor whined, and below, the lights on the crates turned from distant stars to bright circles and now into distinct bulb covers.

And then they were over the crates.

Connor swung his torso gently, grabbing Elise tighter when she gasped. “It’s all right.”

They swayed, and a meter up, he released the clasp, dropping to the stone floor with her.

He untangled and rolled away from her. “Take cover among the crates.”

She crawled out of sight. “Is there something down here?”

“We won’t know until it shows itself.” Connor swung around in a slow circle, Asp raised while the winch retracted its line. “Stay low.”

It was silent other than the motor far overhead and his own boots scraping.

He lowered the gun and took out four glow sticks, breaking and shaking them before tossing them in what felt like ninety-degree angles. They skipped along a smooth, stone ground, two of them revealing more darkness, and two revealing smooth walls.

No ceiling overhead, but there were also no threats.

Connor took a few steps toward one of the glow sticks that didn’t reflect off a wall. “What about that?”

Elise sniffled. “What?”

“No symmetry in design, apparently.”

He sped up, steps echoing, then grabbed the glow stick and tossed it deeper into the chamber.

This time, the light bounced off a wall, revealing a corridor maybe ten meters high and five wide.

But the light also revealed something else, something that it had fallen into.

A ridged snake uncoiled and slithered away, letting the stick drop to the ground.

Not a snake, Connor thought. The thing was connected to something bigger.

If not a snake, then a tentacle.

He backpedaled, eyes rising up to the slowly descending winch cable. When he reached the crates, he climbed behind one. “We’re not alone down here.”

Elise poked her head up. “You saw something?”

“A tentacle.”

“Tentacle? That’s not an ideal propulsion method.”

“And bugs as big as those scorpions shouldn’t be able to fly. I’m just telling you what I saw.”

The archaeologist massaged her temple. “Your theory about these things being guardians—”

“It’s not a theory. I don’t have scientific training.”

“Your idea, then. It would make sense if they were genetically engineered to the task.”

Connor could make out forms descending on the cable. “These things seem pretty deadly to me.”

“They do, but I think that’s because of their chaotic nature.”

“You mean they don’t make sense?”

“Yes. The evolution behind them isn’t rational. Giant bugs. Big winged bugs. Those spider things. A genetically engineered guardian would be more focused and dangerous.”

In the lights attached to the crates, the Moon twins were visible now.

Tim whistled, which echoed wildly. “Make room!”

Connor waved the twins down. “Drop clear as soon as you can. There’s something down here.”

Tom looked around. “Some—?”

A freakish, terrifying hooting shriek came from somewhere above the twins, then black shapes dropped through the dark, enfolding them.

It took seconds for the size of the things to register: easily three times as big as the twins. Tentacles or something like them had whipped through the air and now wrapped around the twins.

There might have been a scream, but it was immediately cut off.

Connor brought the Asp up to shoot, but firing on the black shapes would almost certainly kill the twins underneath.

He drew his sword and set his machine gun down.

The cable descended, and the black shapes wrapped around the twins shuddered. A sucking sound—barely a whisper over the distant motor—preceded the things covering the twins.

Then twin bursts of gunfire erupted, glowing beneath the black draped things, and the horrific hooting shriek came again.

Closer now, the things unfurled, pushing away from the twins and falling.

In an instant, two things happened.

First, the shrieking creatures spat something black and thick onto the twins. At the same moment, the creatures flapped wildly, revealing long tentacles connected by dark membranes.

Those crazy wing-like motions produced a wet, flapping sound. Somehow, the membranes were enough to help the things stay airborne.

But the Moon twins, hissing in pain, weren’t done.

They fired another burst into the retreating creatures.

Dark blood rained down.

The creatures made more shrieks—these more pathetic than terrifying.

One fell to the stone floor, and Connor jumped over the cases, swords ready.

Already, the thing was dragging itself away, leaving a black, slick trail.

Connor hacked through tentacles, and more blood spurted.

He cut through more tentacles, then he drove his sword into the middle of the big head-like structure.

That caused the thing to squirm.

It twisted around, raised tentacles and stubs, and glared at him with a single, pale blue eye in the center of a beaked starfish-like face.

Connor sliced through the closest tentacle, which hit the stone and writhed.

Then he charged in and plunged a blade deep into the eye.

The creature writhed and flopped and slapped the ground with its tentacles.

All the while, it spurted blood…until it abruptly stopped.

Several meters away, the twins were stomping on the other one, which covered them in gore.

Connor waved them back to the crates. “Back to back!”

They gathered with him behind cover, spitting and cursing. Human blood mixed with the ichor of the monstrosities, but the twins seemed all right.

Minutes passed as the cable rose, then eventually descended again.

All Connor could do was encourage the others to stay calm and try to radio a warning. But the radio wasn’t going to work down here any better than up above.

When Selen and Mosiah finally reached the crates, she looked the twins over with a frightening calmness. “You two going to be okay?”

Connor waited for the twins to explode, but instead they slumped slightly.

Tim set his weapon down. “We need to clean up the bites. We’ll be okay.”

Mosiah looked at the dead creatures, wide-eyed. “Those things… I…”

Selen held up a hand for silence, then focused on Connor with a cold glare. “We’re close now. No turning back.”

“After so long, after so much…” The old man nodded. “We can’t go back.”

But Connor could feel it in that moment: This had been their last warning. Whatever malevolent force was behind everything they’d seen so far was waiting for them deeper inside, ready to hurl even worse at them.

And Selen wasn’t going to turn back, no matter what.