Dead silence followed.
Before Jason could react, the door burst open. Blakely, wild-eyed, bowled into the boy, knocking him down. "Jason!"
"I… I… I…"
"What are you doing here?"
"I was going to… I mean…"
"Never mind." Blakely bent down, helping Jason up. "C'mon."
Pushed toward the door, Jason stumbled ahead. "What's going on? Is my mom okay?"
The old man ignored him. "I need to get you somewhere safe. I should never have allowed you to come down here."
The admiral stepped out into the hall. "If that is Jason Carter, leave him be. He is my responsibility now."
"Go to f**king hell!" Blakely yelled, pushing Jason through the hallway door.
Half shoved, Jason tumbled into the reception area. Too frightened to think, focused on trying to keep one step ahead of the raving doctor, he bumped into the door.
Sandy, her mouth hanging open in surprise, stood up from her typing. "What's happening?"
No one gave her an answer. Jason was brushed through the door, Blakely's arm around his shoulder. By now, tears started to flow down Jason's cheek; he clutched his gym bag to his chest.
In the open air, Blakely seemed to be calming down. "I'm sorry, Jason. I didn't mean to scare you. But you should know-"
A siren blasted through the cavern, its scream so piercing that Jason cringed, covering his ears. "What is it?" he yelled.
"Periphery sensors. The base is under attack. Hurry." Blakely yanked Jason's arm.
FIFTEEN
SILENCE NOW. TEN LONG HEARTBEATS HAD PASSED SINCE the scream had blasted from the tunnel. The dark entrance was beginning to clear of smoke from Villanueva's assault. Was it killed? Swallowing hard, Ashley stared down the length of her pistol's barrel. From the corner of her eye, she could see Halloway's head; it still lay a yard from her toe, staring at her as if asking why she let this happen.
She risked a quick glance toward Ben on her right. He caught her look and shrugged. Maybe whatever killed the SEAL was dead. Maybe they had lucked-
With a bellow, it burst from the tunnel.
A flash of teeth, needle-sharp and serrated.
"Christ!" Ashley yelled. In shock, she stumbled backward, losing her shot.
Ben knocked her to the side, out of the way of the lunging jaws, then hauled her behind a jumble of boulders.
Somewhere far off she heard Linda screaming.
"What the hell-" Ashley began, but Ben silenced her with a hand over her mouth.
A foul carrion scent flooded their hiding place as a massive snouted head, reptilian, like a crocodile, swung over the lip of a boulder, weaving on a scaled neck; its nostrils, open wide, snorted the air, searching. Oily black skin stretched over skull and jaw. Then its snout swept toward them, rolling a lidless black eye, like a chunk of polished obsidian, in her direction.
Beside her, Ben struggled to free his rifle, to swing it around, but the narrow space behind the boulder was too small.
Ashley went to raise her pistol, but her hand was empty, the gun lost in the fall. Shit!
Villanueva stood his ground, silent, fearing movement would distract the beast and ruin his shot. He studied his target, searching for a weakness.
What the hell was it?
Villanueva squinted through his rifle sight. It stood ten feet tall, pitch-black, towering on two heavily muscled hind limbs, balanced with a thick tail. Its arms, spindly when compared to the muscled hind limbs, ended in articulated claws like some feral cat. He could see the claws, razor-edged, extending and retracting as it scrabbled at the boulder's surface.
Villanueva continued to watch as it stalked back and forth, its head out of sight behind the boulder. The hooked scimitars of its hind limbs gouged the cavern floor.
How to kill it? The creature was thick across the chest, layered in mud and scales that looked iron-hard. Could a rifle blast to the chest penetrate to the heart? Maybe. But it was risky. He would get only one shot. He swung his rifle sight forward. It would have to be the head.
The creature still probed behind the pile of boulders where Ben and Ashley had fled, keeping Villanueva's target out of sight. Suddenly its body tensed; its tail stopped twitching. It had discovered something behind that boulder… and he could guess what that was-either Ben or Ashley.
A loud hiss arose from it. Like a rabid dog raising a hackle, a ridge of spiked bristles sprouted in a crest along the back of its snaking neck, tracing down the length of its body.
Show me your head, you f**kin' monster, Villanueva thought. Gimme one clean shot.
He ground his molars. A nonfatal shot would just enrage the beast, making a second shot impossible. He tried to will it to move. Helpless, he watched the beast's muscles bunch up as it prepared to spring on its quarry.
He had to distract it!
Villanueva's knuckles whitened as he gripped his rifle.
Retreat, thought Michaelson. Linda and Khalid were his responsibility.
He huddled behind the sheltering boulder. He hated to abandon the others, but he was in no real position to offer any help. He glanced over at Linda, who still shook in Khalid's arms. They needed to retreat to a more defensible position.
He pushed off the boulder and scrambled next to them. "Grab your packs. We're heading out."
Linda raised a white face from Khalid's shoulder. "But the others?"
"Now!" he said hoarsely, shoving her pack toward her.
Khalid tossed his pack over a shoulder and helped Linda pull hers on. "He's right. We can't help them."
Michaelson, with his rifle in hand, herded his two wards forward. As they passed around the first boulder, a panoramic view of the bowl-shaped cavern opened up before them. Here at the lip, Michaelson had a view of the sloping valley they had crossed just an hour ago.
"Shit!" he said, stopping.
Khalid stood at his elbow. "What is it?"
"Over there. Just past the next ridge of rock."
Khalid looked where he pointed, then said something foul in his native tongue. Linda crushed her face into his shoulder.
Michaelson studied the view. Four reptilian heads swayed above the boulder-strewn floor, long necks stretched upward, looking in their direction. Like malignant prairie dogs. As he watched, one of the heads lowered out of sight.
There was no telling how many of them were out there, but one thing was sure: An attempt to cross would be suicide. Their retreat was cut off. Jaw tight, he wound his hand tighter into the rifle's strap.
A sudden motion caught the corner of his eye.
He swung his light to the left. Ten yards away stood a stocky stalagmite, like thousands they had passed to get here. Nothing moved there now. He clenched his jaws, tightening his grip on his rifle. Was there something behind it? Suddenly the stalagmite sprouted a snaking tail and a snouted head, perfectly camouflaged against the oily rock. Even lit up, it was hard to say where the rock began and beast ended.