Page 29 of Subterranean

A second scream. Ben stepped over to Villanueva. "We need to go after them," Ben said. "They're in trouble."

"No," said Villanueva. "We stay here."

"Are you crazy? They're being attacked!"

The SEAL's face was stone. "No. The scream was far away. Beyond the river."

"How can you tell for sure? The acoustics in a cave are tricky."

Villanueva continued to study the darkness ahead. "I'm sure."

"I don't care. I'm heading out to check on them."

"If you try to leave, I'll shoot you in the leg." The casualness in which he said those words suggested he was not joking.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm the senior ranking officer here. What I say goes."

"But-"

"This is the designated rendezvous location. If the others are in trouble, they will head here. We'll give them ten minutes."

"Then what? Go look for them?"

"No. We head back up."

"And leave them down here? Like hell I will!"

"Michaelson has the radio. Without him, we have no means of communicating topside. If he's not back in ten minutes, we evacuate."

Ben stared into the black curtain, beyond which he imagined horrible acts being played out. Ashley running, hiding, pursued by slavering creatures. Ashley mauled and bleeding. He held his breath for most of the ten minutes. To hell with the damned SEAL. If she didn't return… he knew how to take care of himself in caves.

Villanueva lowered his arm. The blackness quickly filled the void of his flashlight, greedily reclaiming its lost territory. "Pack up," he said over his shoulder. "We're heading out."

Ben shifted from foot to foot, straining to pierce the darkness.

"Let's go, Mr. Brust." The SEAL pointed with his gun. "Don't make this hard."

Ben had an idea. "Wait. Everyone turn out your lights."

"What?" said Linda, a tremor in her voice. "Are you nuts?"

"Just do it. If there's no sign of their lights, then we'll get the hell out."

Villanueva studied him, squinting warily. "One minute."

Linda snuggled closer to Khalid as they turned their lanterns off.

The camp was swallowed up by darkness.

It took a few seconds for Ben's eyes to adjust to the blindness, the vanquished camp lights still burning dull flares on his retinas. As these last traces faded, one area persisted, off to the left. His dilated pupils strained to focus. A glowing cave pearl. Then the glow shifted to another cave pearl. Closer. The lights were approaching. "Someone's coming," Ben said, his voice booming with relief. "They're on their way back."

Linda said, "Yes, I see it too!"

Villanueva called for lights. The darkness was beaten back by the flaring lanterns. Within minutes, bobbing flashlights could be seen approaching through the darkness. The SEAL still stood with his gun pointed forward. Once the lights were close enough, he yelled, "Stop there! Identify yourselves!"

Ashley's voice came back angrily, "Who the hell do you think it is?"

Then Michaelson's voice: "It's just us, Major. Relax."

Villanueva lowered his gun.

Ashley stomped into camp, followed by Michaelson, who kept glancing toward the river behind him. "Whose bright idea was it to turn your lights off like that?" Ashley asked sourly. "We were using them as a beacon back here. We thought something happened and started racing back. Almost ran myself right over a cliff."

Linda pointed a thumb at Ben.

"Just looking for you," he said, nodding his head toward the SEAL. "After we heard the scream, our mate here was planning on scrambling back topside with our tails between our legs if you didn't show."

Ashley bristled. "What the hell?"

Michaelson interrupted, a hand raised in the air. "He was correct. We had the radio. They didn't."

Ben swallowed. "But to leave you…"

Ashley rubbed her temples thoughtfully, then nodded. "He's right. Next time, listen to him, Ben." She brushed past him, scanning the camp. "Okay, under the circumstances, we need to make a decision whether to continue forward or go back."

Michaelson stepped forward. "I suggest Villanueva and I cross the river to take a closer look while the rest of the camp stays put."

Ashley shook her head. "No. We stick together. We've already seen what happens when we split up."

"Then we evacuate," Michaelson stated bluntly. "I won't risk any more civilians. Halloway knew the risks."

Ashley scowled. "And what if it was one of us out there screaming? Would you be so quick to leave?"

Michaelson remained silent.

"I thought so," she said. "I think Halloway deserves as much support as any of us."

Linda spoke up. "Besides, he might just be injured or unconscious. He's been silent since the first screams. We can't leave without at least looking thoroughly."

Michaelson began to object, but Ashley held up a hand. "Since it's our civilian butts on the line, it should be our decision to continue forward or not."

Ben and Linda nodded. Khalid merely stared.

"I say we go forward," Ashley said. "Any objections?"

The others remained silent.

"Fine," she said. "I want to be across that river in thirty minutes."

Ashley paced the river's edge. Villanueva had stripped to his underwear and cautiously waded into the oil-black water. A rope tied around his waist draped back to the team at the river's edge. Michaelson had anchored the rope around a stalagmite nearby.

"We could've all swum across by now," Ashley said. "All this jury-rigging is just wasting time."

"No," Michaelson said, looping a knot in the rope. "The current's too strong. If we tried to swim, someone could easily be swept away."

"Then just tie everyone together with rope." She didn't understand why he was being so obstinate. Didn't he realize every wasted second could mean Halloway's death?

Ben shook his head and tried to calm her with a smile. "Too easy to get tangled up, my dear. A good way to get someone drowned."

A loud splash drew her attention back to the river as Villanueva dove beneath the churning water, clearing half the stream before resurfacing. Strong arms cut the water in broad strokes, but still the current propelled the SEAL far downstream.

Linda grabbed Ashley's arm, pinching hard in panic. "Look!"

Ashley followed the biologist's outstretched arm back upstream from where they stood. A three-foot-tall dorsal fin, albino-white, crested the churning waters, then sank back from view.

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