Deep Fathom

“You’re bleeding,” Karen said.

Jack glanced down. A trail of red dribbled across the crystal. He hadn’t felt the bullet that grazed the edge of his hand. The snipers were damn fast, he realized. He had better not underestimate them. “I’m okay. It’s just a scratch.”

Karen crawled to his side and wrapped his hand in her handkerchief, tugging it tight.

“Ow!” he said.

“Oh, quit complaining, you baby.”

Even in their predicament, Jack couldn’t help but grin.

The rifle fire again quieted as the targets remained hidden.

“What now?” Miyuki asked.

“They’re holding us here. Which means others are on the way.”

Mwahu moved nearer. “I know a secret way out of Forbidden City. But we must get back there.” He pointed toward the dark hall into the central keep.

Jack stared, biting his lower lip, thinking. It was only ten yards away—but it might as well have been a hundred. They would be exposed to the snipers for too long. “Too risky.”

Karen grabbed her pack and tugged a side pouch open. “I have an idea.” She pulled out a package of Trident gum.

“Good,” Jack said. “I was worried about my dental hygiene right now.”

She smirked at him. “Put the crystal down.” When Jack complied, she flipped the star over and unwrapped a piece of gum. She popped it in her mouth, chewed it for a couple seconds, then stuck the wad on the back of the crystal.

“What are you—”

She nodded toward the lid, and Jack understood. “Let me help you.” He grabbed a few pieces of gum and chewed them vigorously.

Miyuki stared at them as if they’d gone crazy.

Jack smeared a sticky chunk of gum on the crystal’s underside, then held it up.

Karen eyed the star. “That should be enough gum.”

“Do I have to return the star to the exact spot?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Just make sure it’s in the sunlight.”

Jack grabbed the crystal star, gummy side up. Taking a deep breath, he reached up and slapped the crystal down upon the nearest edge of the stone lid. He pressed hard, twisting it to ensure the gum stuck well. He yanked his hand back as gunfire spat again, sparking off the stone. He checked his hand, then held it toward Karen. “Look, Ma, no cavities.”

“Very funny. Test the lid.”

From the safety of the shelter, Jack reached out to the underside of the lid’s protruding edge. He pushed up on it. Rock scraped on rock as the lid rose an inch. “Light as a feather.”

“Then let’s get our asses out of here.”

Jack slid the lid to their side of the crypt, then stood, tilting the top between him and the snipers, like a stone shield. Bullets rang off the rock.

“Oof!” Jack felt the impacts all the way to his shoulders, but the shield held. Backing up, he dragged the makeshift shield off the crypt, tilting the lid vertically so the others could crouch in its shadow. “Okay, time to vamoose.”

Shuffling backward, he kept them all covered. Only his fingers were exposed on the far side. He prayed the riflemen were not good enough shots to take off one of his fingers.

“Keep the crystal in the light,” Karen urged. “We’re almost there.”

Rifle fire continued to pelt the stone lid. Jack’s hands began to slip, jarred by the force of the continued rifle blasts.

“Almost…” Karen said.

Jack stepped into darkness. He took another step and the stone lid’s weight suddenly returned. Caught off guard, he couldn’t hold it. “Back!” he yelled as it came toppling toward him.

From behind, someone grabbed his belt and yanked him clear. He stumbled and fell hard on his rear end. The lid crashed to the ground, barely missing his toes. Jack hoisted himself up to a crouch. Karen had also fallen to her knees. She dusted off her hands, standing up.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Grab the crystal.” She motioned to the cracked lid.

Jack snatched the star, peeling it off the basalt. He passed it to Karen, who shoved it in her pack. Rifle blasts continued to abrade the hall’s entrance, but the group was far enough down the passage to be out of the direct line of fire. “Keep moving. It won’t be safe much longer.”

“This way,” Mwahu hissed from farther down the tunnel. “Hurry. Someone comes.”

Jack and Karen joined the other two at the edge of the cavernous central chamber. Across the room, Jack spotted a shaft of light flaring from the opposite hall. They were cut off from the exit.

“This way,” Mwahu whispered, slinking along the wall to the left.

In the deep gloom, the group slid close to the walls. Jack reached behind and took Miyuki’s hand. The professor’s fingers shook in his grip. He squeezed reassuringly. Together they followed Mwahu to a corner of the large chamber. By now hushed voices echoed from the opposite hall. No words could be made out, but from the angry tone, Jack suspected that the snipers’ failure to hold the captives had been radioed. The light quickly grew.

Hurry, he silently urged Mwahu.

A flashlight’s beam speared across the chamber as someone entered.

Jack pushed Miyuki behind him.

A hiss drew Jack’s attention around. In the deep shadows, he barely saw Mwahu crouched beside a thin crevice in the wall. It was no higher than Jack’s knee and narrower than his shoulders. Karen was already crawling inside, pack shoved in front of her. Mwahu stared with fear toward the men stepping into the chamber.

Jack was sure they would be caught.

He pushed Miyuki toward the opening, and, without any hesitation, her small form vanished down the tunnel’s throat. Jack indicated Mwahu should go next. He was the only one who knew where the tunnel led.

The islander dove into the hole.

Behind Jack a new light bloomed. Crouching, he spun around. It came from the hall leading to the courtyard. Shadowy figures entered. The snipers. The two parties signaled each other with their lights. Jack saw one of the beams flash in his direction.

He dropped to the floor, flattening himself. The light passed over where he had been standing. It did not pause.

Crawling on hands and knees, he slithered across the floor and into the crevice. It was a tight fit. Holding his breath, he crooked his shoulders and shoved himself inside. Crouching lower on his elbows and scrabbling with his fingers, he worked deeper into the chute, sure at any moment that lights would flare up around him. But finally he pulled his feet fully into the tunnel. He paused, suppressing a sigh of relief, he stared ahead—and saw nothing. The tunnel was pitch-black. The only evidence of the others was the occasional furtive scuffling.