Subterranean

Just then Nob'cobi came rushing in, a panicked look on his face.

Somehow Ben knew his luck had just run short again.

Tears of frustration ran down Jason's face. He still couldn't believe it. At first he had thought he had imagined it, but the accent was clear. Ben! He had heard him talking to someone, followed by a loud knocking. From only a little distance away! He couldn't make out the words clearly, but it had to be Ben. Jason had tried to call to him, but the gag stifled all but a soft moan that barely reached his own ears.

Finally, he had heard a door slam shut, followed by silence. He strained to listen for any evidence that Ben was still around. Nothing. He must have gone into the building.

Jason struggled with his bonds. If only he could free a hand and pull the gag off. He had to find some way to call to Ben when he exited the building. If he should fail… He glanced at the LED readout on his belt. The number 11 glowed on the screen, and as he watched, it dissolved into the number 10.

He needed help… fast. He struggled again with the ropes, but it was no use. He slumped against the restraints. He needed another plan.

As he hung from the pillar, an idea suddenly struck him. Maybe…

He shifted his hips. If he could reach his left hand to his jacket pocket… He squeezed his eyes closed as he stretched and contorted his body, straining in his bonds. He felt his fingers close on the familiar plastic box. Careful not to drop it, he struggled to free it from his pocket, but it caught in the fabric. He stopped and took a deep breath. Don't rush! With more concentration, he slowly worked it free of his jacket, sighing in relief. It had been the only thing that Khalid had let him keep from his gym bag.

He prayed the batteries still worked as he flipped on his Nintendo Game Boy. A familiar jingle bounced from the toy. He twisted the volume control to its highest. The music was not particularly loud, but with luck, the oddity of the sound would attract Ben when he left the building.

He waited. Please, Ben, hurry. What if the batteries should die out too soon? What if he was wrong and Ben had already left? What if the timer on his belt reached zero before Ben heard him? His mind spun with awful misgivings.

But one worry he had not considered until he saw the black snout angle around the corner to his right. What if the noise attracted something other than Ben? Jason watched as it hissed softly at him, its nostrils flaring open and closed. He thumbed off his Nintendo and froze. The creature stalked fully into view. Bloody wounds oozed from its belly and neck, but it seemed unaffected by the injuries as it slowly slunk in his direction.

THIRTY-FOUR

ASHLEY WAS SURE HER SON WAS FINE. HE HAD TO BE. SHE put down her pen. All day she had been working in umbo's chamber, trying to keep her hands busy and her mind distracted. Cataloging, measuring, recording notes in her logbook.

She glanced at her watch. It was already late evening. Ben should be heading back by now. What if he didn't have any word of Jason? Or worse, what if he never came back? How much longer could she wait before this tension drove her mad?

Sighing, she sat back and stared across the chamber at the dozing figure of Mo'amba, seated with his eyes closed. He was her only guard. The others had been sent away. His word was obeyed without question.

She eyed the black wormhole through which Ben had disappeared. She could make a break for it. If Mo'amba was truly napping, then perhaps… She shook her head. It was a long crawl. They would surely catch her. Besides, she couldn't abandon Michaelson. Even if by some miracle she did manage to escape, he'd be killed in her place.

Suddenly, Mo'amba's eyes snapped open and he stared at her. He struggled to his feet, but his hours of sitting seemed to cramp him. Ashley crossed over and helped him up.

He eyed the opening to the chamber that led to the village.

"What is it?" she asked.

He placed a hand over her mouth for silence, then waved for her to follow. Using his staff as a crutch, he hobbled through the entrance and pulled her into a shadowed alcove just across the tunnel.

What was going on? But she did not have long to wait. The soft scrape of leather on stone could be heard approaching down the tunnel. Someone was coming. But who?

She squinted down the feebly lit tunnel until Mo'amba pulled her back into the shadows. She waited, holding her breath. From the sound of the approaching footsteps, more than one person approached.

Pressing farther back into the dark alcove, the party slipped past her hiding place and entered umbo's chamber. She swallowed back a hiss as she recognized the bony physique of one of them. It was Sin'jari.

The other two were the exact opposite of Sin'jari. Where he was tall and bony, they were hunched and thick with muscle. But there was no question who was the boss here. A mere frown from Sin'jari would cause the offending party to cringe. And there was a lot of cringing. From the gesturing and sharp commands, it was apparent Sin'jari was giving orders that were only reluctantly being obeyed.

Finally, with a bark from their boss, the two bull-necked brutes ducked their heads and crept into the wormhole that led to Alpha Cavern.

What was going on? Ashley could not understand a word that was being spoken, but Mo'amba apparently did. She could feel him tensing beside her, actually quivering with suppressed emotion. His tension was contagious. She found herself clenching her fists. Sin'jari was up to something nefarious, something meant to harm her group.

Suddenly, Mo'amba burst from the alcove, startling her. She darted after him as he hobbled into umbo's chamber. Sin'jari swung around with his mouth open, stunned and wide-eyed.

Mo'amba crossed to stand almost toe-to-toe with Sin'jari. He stamped his staff so hard splinters flew from its tip. Sin'jari took a step back, obviously flabbergasted by the sudden appearance of his nemesis.

Ashley stood to the side as heated words flowed from Mo'amba. Now it was Sin'jari's turn to cringe. He seemed to fold himself inward as Mo'amba's words assailed him. But where Sin'jari's lackeys had fear in their eyes, Sin'jari's pupils were slitted with menace. From Ashley's vantage, she could see his hand edging toward the knife at his belt.

She opened her mouth to warn Mo'amba, but words caught in her throat. How could she warn him? She couldn't speak a word of their language. She watched as Sin'jari's fingers closed on the knife. Mo'amba was a prominent leader. Surely, Sin'jari wouldn't dare…

Without warning, Sin'jari lashed out, driving the long diamond dagger into Mo'amba's chest. The knife cut Mo'amba's angry tirade. The old mimi'swee looked down at the hilt protruding from his chest as if analyzing an intriguing bug. He coughed once, a dribble of blood appearing on his lips.

Ashley, frozen with shock, finally screamed as Sin'jari yanked the dagger free, then plunged it a second time into Mo'amba's chest. The old man stumbled backward, pulling himself off the blade.