Chapter Thirty-Six

Imogen awoke to the madness of someone yelling.

Gosswick cursed as he walked the border of the torches. “Quig! …Fuck’s sake, Quig, get back here!”

Imogen, Caleb, and the others pulled on their boots and joined the captain at the alcove’s entrance.

“What’s happening?” Trummel asked.

Gosswick looked frantic. “Quig’s gone missing. Anyone see him last night?”

“Imogen and I did,” Caleb said. “He relieved my watch at four a.m.”

“He was leaning against that rock when I went to sleep,” she said.

“The demons lured him,” Bakari said.

“Christ!” Gosswick grabbed a burning torch and walked out of the alcove. Sykes followed him.

Bakari, Trummel, and Caleb grabbed torches. Imogen followed them into the dark. They called for Quig but got no answer.

Bakari caught up to Trummel. “Let me lead. Everyone, stay close. Whatever you see in the dark, don’t fire your weapons unless I say.”

The search party stayed in a tight half circle as they climbed down an incline of loose shale. Firelight pushing back the darkness, they entered a crater. The stone had been cut into circular bands that gradually spiraled in tiers like a primitive amphitheater. At the bottom, on a round stage surrounded by towers of stacked rocks, something white, atop a pedestal, reflected their light. It was a miner’s helmet, the headlamp cracked. Gosswick picked it up. Beneath the helmet lay several bloody teeth, a few of them gold-capped.

Gosswick shouted at the surrounding dark, challenging Quig’s murderers to show themselves.

Imogen and Caleb traded worried glances. “Take this.” Caleb handed her his torch, then aimed his pistol at the blackness beyond the stone towers.

A few rocks tumbled into the crater. Beyond the group’s ring of light echoed scuffles and animal grunts. The air grew foul with the scent of musk and excrement. On the rock cliffs above, dozens of red eyes reflected the lights.

Gosswick aimed and shot his pistol.

“Stop, you’ll anger them!” Bakari shouted.

Beasts cried out, retreating deeper into the gloom. Angry screeches and yowls filled the circular cavern. The cacophony was maddening.

The soldiers shouted back, firing more shots into the dark. The thundering blasts rang in Imogen’s ears.

Bones flew at them from the dark, striking the ground at their feet. A skull with hair still partially attached. A gnawed leg bone, still red with morsels of meat. Something hard thunked Imogen’s helmet. It was a severed hand, the fingers picked clean of flesh.

Shielding Imogen with his body, Caleb shouted, “Run! Go!”

She ran with the others, retreating to the alcove. The mortar of bones landed on the cave floor behind them.

Ely had stayed behind with Dyfan. They huddled by the dwindling campfire.

“What’s happening?” Ely asked.

“The demons are furious thanks to Gosswick,” Bakari said.

Gosswick squared off with the Egyptian. “They killed my soldiers.”

Trummel stepped between them. “Calm down, both of you. We need solutions, not squabbling.”

Snarls echoed just beyond the torchlight at the edge of the alcove. Dark shapes moved in flickering blurs. A frenzy of claws swiped at the flames. The sounds the creatures made were deafening. There must be hundreds out there, Imogen thought.

“We’re trapped.” Sykes took cover behind a stalagmite, gun aimed. Gosswick did the same. The others retreated to the back of the cave.

Trummel turned to Bakari. “What are our options?”

“They won’t cross the fire.”

“We can’t stay here,” Caleb said. “All those things have to do is wait until our fires burn out.”

“How do we reach the next gate?” Imogen asked.

Bakari pointed to the cave’s only exit. “Through them.”

“Blow your horn again,” Caleb said. “Won’t that ward them off?”

Bakari seemed conflicted. “The horn is supposed to grant safe passage through the maze and down the river. The bone keepers are highly religious and respect the horn as the voice of their god. The demons that I fear have followed us here are the more vicious shemayu, the wanderers. They have no beliefs to guide them, only hunger. The horn hurts their ears and confuses them. The sound also enrages them, makes them want to rip their prey apart.”

“Sounds to me like they’re already enraged,” Caleb said. “Blow the horn loud enough to hurt their ears. While they scatter, we’ll run.”

Bakari frowned. “The horn will buy minutes. Once we’re out there, our only protection will be our fires and our lights.”

“We have guns,” Gosswick said, joining the group.

“You can’t shoot them all,” Bakari said. “We are horribly outnumbered.”

“I say we take our chances with the horn,” Caleb said.

“What other option do we have, Bakari?” Trummel asked.

“We could stay here and hope the shemayu leave before our fire and batteries run out. It could take days. They are relentless hunters once they’ve discovered prey.”

“We don’t have that kind of time,” Trummel said.

“It’s a risk either way,” Caleb said. “Right now we’re rabbits trapped in a hole.”

“Rabbits with guns.” Gosswick’s bravado sounded thin. “I say we fire a barrage of shots. See if we can scare them off.”

Bakari shook his head. “Killing a few would only ensure the rest never leave. I promise you, you don’t want to be here when the fires die out.”

Trummel weighed his options. “Everyone, grab up your gear. Bakari, when we’re ready, you blow that horn until their eardrums burst.”

As they quickly packed up their bedrolls and rucksacks, Bakari poured extra tar pitch into a white membrane pouch that bloated like a rubber hot-water bottle.

When Imogen asked what the container was made from, he told her, “It was a shemayu stomach,” then he capped it with a stopper and hung the pouch’s strap over his shoulder. “The pitch will help us keep the torches lit.”

Imogen took a deep breath as she pulled on her pack. The creatures’ constant screeching made it impossible to think.

When their party had gathered near the entrance, Bakari pulled the curved and ribbed horn from his pack and blew. The acoustics of the alcove made the horn bellow louder, low and resonant, like a foghorn. Outside, the angry howls and screeches turned to sounds of panic. The rumble of trampling feet echoed farther and farther away. The howls faded but not far enough to make Imogen feel out of danger.

Bakari pulled the torches out of the ground and passed them to the others. Then the group followed their underworld guide into the void.