Short Story: Fabulous Honeymoon

August 16, 2016August 15, 2016 ~ S.M. Nolan ~ 3 Comments

The expedition of Vladimir Von Kaufer had been planned for months. It was widely known in Vladimir’s Hungarian hometown– a place notorious for spreading small news in big ways. The little village, as it was more apt to call it, consisted of about thirty homes. Each of them was situated in two circles of fifteen that expanded outward from the town-square in its center. The square, in turn, was a circle of a dozen buildings of varying sizes and uses.

The aforementioned represented the entirety of the village. It had a most peculiar name that, though known to residents, rolled so harshly off the tongue they merely called it “The Village” or “Home.” When abroad, and asked where the residents came from, most merely answered “Hungary.” Others parroted “the country,” as if their rural dwelling were the only in existence. For many of them, it might well have been.

The Village was such a melding of old-time living with new-world ways that on first glance, one would be forgiven for thinking it a town of Luddites. Anyone venturing in to visit its shops, or pass by at night would quickly recognize their error. Though the people kept the quaint, homely appearance for their own pleasure, it was as much civilized as any other place. Indeed, in some ways, more-so.

Thus, Von Kaufer’s expedition was bound to attract some measure of renown as soon as it escaped his lips. He made preparations for days, planning the best route to and through the cavern he would traverse. He hired on neighbors and friends to follow him in, promised a share of credit and loot if found.

Legend had it that long ago a gypsy caravan had run off with an entire estate after its owners had disappeared. Before the estate of the wealthy couple could be auctioned off, or passed to kin, the gypsies had raided it. So the legend went that all they left behind were the brick-walls and cobwebs. The caravan fled authorities, fearing discovery, and hid their boon for later recovery in the cavern.

It was said however, that the gypsy caravan had never been able to return. Over a decade, all manner of ills befell them until only one family-member remained. The old man, even more ancient than he’d been when liberating the possessions, could find no-one to follow him. He was said to have died a vagrant’s death steps from the mouth of the cavern where his boon lay hidden. The unmarked grave in The Village’s churchyard lent credence to at least some of these facts.

It was with this in mind that Vladimir Von Kaufer set about his planning. The cave had claimed many through its treacherous obstacles. No matter how far similar expeditions had made it inside, the cavern’s end seemed ever beyond reach. Some expeditions, ill-provisioned for the trek, had even returned unharmed and utterly dismayed. Most of their leaders lived in despair of their failure afterward. With their places as laughing-stock in folk-lore, they could never again convince others to follow them to that grisly place.

Von Kaufer however, had the upstanding confidence of all the Village’s people. As soon as the utterance came from his lips, men and women lined up to follow. It was as if his very reputation guaranteed he not return empty-handed. His own determination ensured it.

A week before the expedition was set to begin however, Vladimir fell ill. He was deathly pale, his hands cold and clammy, and his eyes sunken. He looked as though he had lost all the blood from his body. Indeed, his doctors concluded an anemic attack of unknown cause had thinned his blood to dangerous levels. That whole week passed with him in varying states of decay.

Then, for two whole days, Vladimir teetered on the brink of death. With him, the Village held their breath in hopes of his recovery so that he might complete his expedition. It would undoubtedly be the ultimate triumph, especially after so deathly an illness.

He rose from his bed on the second night, once more strong and colorful. Though the coldness of his skin had yet to abate, he assured everyone he would continue the expedition at once. Having already been past schedule by two days, he rounded up his team from their nearby homes, and set forth at-once for the cavern.

He rallied them at the mouth of the cavern before dawn, and plunged for its depths. Aided by head lamps, climbing ropes, harnesses and other miscellanea, they descended with their own weight in rations and water. Vladimir was certain they could not turn back lest they fail and never return. Each person in their own right agreed and loaded themselves amply.

For the first day, there was nothing ominous. They crossed chasms and scaled precipices in single file. When it came time to rest, it was past noon on the surface. The mile of rock between them and the sun cast them in darkness all the same.

The group collectively set down to eat and sleep, doing both with vigor. They awoke hours later with to find their number one less than they’d been before. Vladimir was disappointed. The man must have left, gone in the night so as to not be deterred by his leader or companions. The leader himself seemed to pity him, but rallied the group again and set forth.

Again, more climbing of plateaus, reverse-scaling of precipices and crossing of chasms all with a downward attitude. They neared the furthest point ever traversed, the cavern’s sometimes jagged, claustrophobic passages confirmed the fact. After one, particularly harrowing passage, the cavern opened up, and they took rest for the night.

Nine became seven. Two more had left. A man and a woman. They had previously been enamored with one another, smitten to the point that they must have convinced one another to flee. Nonetheless, the expedition would continue, the shares more robustly divided.

Vladimir led them forward at once, passed scattered skeletons from a lost expedition. The dusty bones and tattered rags of clothing from a past age infected the air with a lingering dread. It lasted until they bedded down again several hours later.

Again they awoke to fewer numbers. Seven became four. Vladimir seemed to halfheartedly dismiss the attitudes of the departed compatriots. All the same, they searched about, finding but one small trace of blood. A drip, only partially dried to brown, was muddled by the dust and dirt-laced floor.

A shudder went among the remaining expedition. Vladimir himself seemed unaffected. Perhaps it was by his cunning or confidence that he inspected the area. He felt around with his finger-less-gloved hands on the walls. Near the drip on a wall he found yet another fleck, evidently at hand height. It seemed someone had leaned against the rather sharp bit of rock too hard before fleeing.

No matter, Vladimir told the others, it was as rational an explanation as any. The other three, remaining comrades felt that so-present dread. Still they packed their sleeping equipment, and ventured forth, led as always by Von Kaufer’s vigor and tenacity.

It was during one of their short breaks that another comrade seemed to make off for nowhere. She had left her pack near the others and gone off to relieve herself. Much like Von Kaufer, she’d isolated herself for a moment, but unlike him, she never returned.

Vladimir spirits finally felt the blow. He had but two comrades left; one male and one female, whom both seemed as determined as he to go forward. Again they started forth, that awful dread afflicting even Vladimir’s seemingly unassailable vitality. When at last they bedded down for the night, Vladimir sank into a kind of depression. Even if by some means the treasure existed, he’d never offset the cost of the expedition by retrieving only one-fifth of the share. That was to say nothing of the lost hope of becoming wealthier off it.

He lie down to rest only to awake and find the last man gone. He, alone with the woman, would continue forward. There was equally as much dread between them now. Some phantom force, it felt, had cursed their expedition and would forever hound them. Still they climbed, descended, leapt and crawled. They knew not when the end of the cavern might come, but forewent sleep to ensure they see it as soon as possible.

It was nearly forty-eight hours after that last man had left Vladimir and the woman alone that they descended into a pit. From the wall they’d started down, they trudged forward. Their limbs and eyes were heavy, but their eyes wide, alert, peeled for anything signaling their boon.

Their headlamps swept the ceiling and walls for ways out of the pit. They found none. It was then that their lights flitted along the floors. Gold sparkles froze them. Their minds were stuck, stunned by what lay before them.

The far-wall was piled with gold and silver. Rubies and Sapphires gleamed in golden cups. Emeralds shined from inlaid fittings in silver cutlery and other tableware. Mounds of coins of gold, silver, even bronze, were scattered in a marvelous painting of riches. Priceless artworks in dusty, wooden frames seemed untouched by the ages. With them were equally earthen-hued trunks and cases which later revealed infinitely more jewelry.

Von Kaufer and the woman, Anika, embraced in excitement and triumph. They even kissed deeply, as though possessed by animal carnation at their success. It was then that Vladimir parted from Anika and stepped back a few paces.

“I must confess,” he said formally. “Five of those eight whom fled are not in the Village.”

Anika’s brow furrowed. She looked about to question him. His face flashed. All of his features became squared and pointed, including his carnivorous teeth. His eyes glowed yellow with fearsome slits and his back became arched as if poised to pounce. He expected Anika to recoil in terror.

Instead, she laughed heartily, “Three of those eight too, are neither home nor yet live.”

Her face took on a similar disposition. Anika’s blue eyes turned ice-cold white. Her back arched too, and her arms and legs became sinuous, her teeth long.

Vladimir laughed too. Their faces reverted, he stepped over and placed a hand in the small of her back, directing her to stand beside him as if his bride. They stared at the pile of riches together, chuckling for a long while.

There and then, Vladimir looked into Anika’s eyes and smiled, “We shall return to the village with as much as we can carry, then come back for the rest, no matter how many trips it takes.”

Anika flashed a deranged, predatory smile, “Then we will take the whole village, and add it to the pile in our home.”

Together they laughed with malice. They parted to begin stuffing their pockets. Vladimir had to admit it wasn’t what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t for the worse. His homecoming would only be but an extension of his good fortune. Together, he and Anika would reign, King and Queen, over the Village, as it drowned in blood.

She caught his eye over a mound of gold she sifted, “It will be a fabulous honeymoon.”

Krubera: Part 7

November 6, 2015November 5, 2015 ~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

The Jungle

It was another three watches, or six hours, before the darkness set in. The team had gathered their things, began to make their way down the slope and back through the forest. They crisscrossed their steps over more vine traps, emerged on the far-side of the mist-covered plain that had receded in the darkness. They headed west for the mountains, cut a straight path through the plains until forced to curve around a large lake. Water rushed between the banks of a stream that wound from the lake beneath the mist.

It was two hours after nightfall when they’d made the five kilometer trek between the forest and the mountains. They rose from the ground to high peaks that were by the high darkness. Everywhere about them were large, coniferous trees, similar to yews. Their trunks were wide– fifty meters at the smallest– and stretched a hundred or more meters into the air. The larger yews, it seemed, were close to that in width but doubled in height. All seemed clad with the same, iron-hued bark they’d seen elsewhere. Some of the trees had shed their coil-like bark as a snake might shed its skin, large broken pieces of it cluttered the ground, trampled the grasses. As always, each tree they found glowed from the luminescence created by their unique photosynthesis.

They stopped at the base of a smaller mountain that still dwarfed them as though they were ants, to take rock and soil samples. Raymond examined a piece of the mountain in the light of his torch, called to Elliot. She rose from the brush, closed the few steps to him.

He held out the sample he’d just collected, “Elliot, these are limestone mountains.”

“Shouldn’t they be?” She asked, dully.

“Yes, if they’re mountains,” he replied with emphasis. His face reflected a deep concern, uncharacteristically agitated. He explained, “The entire theory I’ve concocted in my head relies on these being stalagmite speleothems– in other words, enormous, natural stalagmites composed from calcium run-off of the ceiling above. I figured their size was simply attributed to the age of the cavern. But now? Age has nothing to do with it.”

Elliot shook her head, “I’m sorry Raymond, I just don’t understand.”

His tone was critical, “They’re mountains, Elliot. Mountains within a cavern, within a mountain. There’s tectonic activity here.” Her face blanked. Raymond voice grew more grave, “If there are plates here, it’s only a matter of time before they quake.”

“You’re telling me it’s only a matter of time before a massive quake hits this place?”

He grimaced,“Yes, and judging by the amount of activity lately, it’s could be catastrophic.”

For the first, she saw fear in Raymond’s eyes, his confidence shaken. Anthony called her name, pulled her attention away. He motioned for her to follow, led her beneath and around a tree, to an opening in the mountain. It was small, cramped, enough that they were forced to hunch to at the entrance. The faint, orange glow that had illuminated the valley through-out the day shimmered from the small cave’s entrance.

Anthony knelt at the wall, near a patch of the light, scraped some of it into Petri-dish, “It’s some kind of moss.”

“Moss?” She asked, alarmed.

He capped off the petri-dish. It filled with mist, exhaled in vapors from the moss to cloud out its light. He passed it over, the glass hot in her hand.

“It’s heating up?”

He nodded. The Petri dish warmed fast, burned her hand. She dropped it to ground. The glass shattered with a puff, like smoke released from burning room. Liana entered the cavern called for her. She stopped mid-turn as her wrist vibrated. She glanced down feared the inevitable; “SGSM READS EARTHQUAKE MAGNITUDE 8.0: EURASIAN-ARABIAN PLATE: SHOCKWAVE ETA 12-MINUTES TO CURRENT LAT-LONG: ADVISE APPROPRIATE MEASURES.”

“We’ve gotta’ move,” Elliot said, without further explanation.

Liana looked to Anthony, panted in a lean, her abdomen clutched, “SGSM?”

He shrugged, hurried past her and out of the cave. Elliot was helping Raymond pack his samples into his bag.

“Eight-oh,” she said.

“Then we need to get out of here,” he replied as he shouldered his pack.

“Any idea where were going to go?” Chad asked belligerently.

“Jungle?” Ellie asked.

Raymond winced, “If you think its best,”

“Do we really have a choice? We need whatever we can get from there, and the Jungle’s furthest from the fault, right?”

He started forward, “Theoretically but the fault’s probably a few miles wide. There might not be anywhere safe down here.”

They followed his lead. He’d neglected to say his thoughts aloud; even if they survived the quake, it could collapse any number of passages they’d taken from the surface. Elliot didn’t need him to say it though, it was at the forefront of her mind. The earthquake might produce several shock-waves; the first would be the most violent, but the subsequent shocks would be a danger for hours. She wanted to be gone from this place by then, have as much ground crossed as possible before the first wave hit.

They doubled their pace, Liana’s weight redistributed to compensate for the severity of her injuries. Even still, she lagged behind. They were only able to traverse half the kilometer to the jungle, when the quake hit.

They pushed themselves harder, fought opposing forces from the waves that built to a slow climax. Each step threatened to topple them. Shrieks and growls echoed from the jungle ahead, the creatures within awakened prematurely by the ground that rolled beneath them. The trees shook, fern-leaves rustled in a torrent of violence. Flashes of fast-movements sprang between the trees, gave only glimpses of tails and wings in profile.

The first climax came, knocked Liana to her knees. Elliot shout the others forward, doubled-back to retrieve her. She struggled to her feet. Her equilibrium failed from unstable ground. She slipped back down. Elliot pulled her up hard. They planted their feet against the pitch and roll of the grasses. She planted her feet on the ground, stepping forward one foot at a time. The unmistakable crack of trees sounded in the distance. The Earth gave a massive lurch.

The shock-wave had triggered a separate quake from the cavern’s fault. The treeline boucned through their vision, their steps thrown to and fro. A stomach-curdling vertigo overtook Elliot as the cavern’s quake fought against the opposite shock-waves. Dirt and roots snapped, ripped with the surge of Earth as it rose. Elliot risked a look back to see gigantic trees felled near the mountains.

She and Liana managed to make the jungle as the second quake climaxed, toppled limbs and trees over the path the other three had made. A scream sounded from one of the men, beneath the deafening shrieks and growls of the jungle’s residents. Elliot forced Liana forward through the foliage. Ferns and thorny shrubbery tore at their faces, arms, punctured their wet-suits, and shredded their bandages.

The quake’s waves began to low. Its rumbles quieter as it died out beneath them. They stopped short of the screams from the three men, stuck in the depths of a pit-fall trap. A thick, cloudy fluid stuck bubbled up from the bottom of the trap, began to fill it. Massive, thorn-like teeth on the sides of the walls folded in, like a Venus fly-trap that readied to enclose them.

In a flash, she had a climbing rope out, anchored to a tree. She lowered it to them, drug the rope up with it wrapped tortuously around her wounded arms. Anthony’s head became visible, he fell out of the hole, threw himself to the side, to scramble up and help. Raymond was pulled up next; he laid his weight into the rope, managed to slide Chad up and out of the hole just as the teeth snapped shut on the trap.

They fell about in various states of exhaustion. The suits at their ankles sizzled away, pocked their skin with smokey burns. The digestive acids seared their flesh.

“Vinegar,” Elliot shouted. “Then water.”

Luck was with them for once. The vinegar neutralized the chemicals, water washed away the severed bits of boot and neoprene. They readied to bandage Chad, when an ominous, low grumble sounded around them.

“Go,” Chad insisted. “I’ll just slow you down.”

“Don’t be a drama queen,” Elliot spat. She slipped his arms under one of his shoulders, called to the others, “Get him up!”

Anthony and Raymond helped to lift him. The growls sounded louder behind them. Anthony and Raymond bolted with Chad between them, left Elliot to un-sling Liana’s rifle from her back, pass it to her. Elliot readied the pistol.

“Firm grip,” Liana grunted, pained and fatigued.

Elliot nodded. She’d never fired a weapon before, never even held one; yet, here she was, ready to try. They backed up, around the trap, away form it. The growls were louder, more than before– at least five now. A sick scent of blood wafted up their nostrils. They back-stepped as red-eyes appeared through-out the darkness. Had Liana not seen its glowing eyes she would not have seen it at all. A flash of light glinted off a transparent body, a large dog, but with a boxed jaw. It prowled forward complete with spiked, sharp teeth and a chameleon-like stealth.

Liana fired in a burst, killed the first animal. Pairs of eyes began flickered open before the eerie light of the trees. The creatures stalked, ready to strike. Liana flicked a lever on the side of the weapon, firing single shots at them. Two fell. The others bounded forward.

Liana and Elliot fired together. Rhythmic blasts sounded with an erratic beat as they backed away in their crouch. The gun recoiled in hard in Elliot’s hands until her grip was firm enough. She managed to hit a creature as it jumped away. She attempted to aim, pulled back on the trigger, hit another. It bounded for her, unfazed.

Liana finished it off, shouted, “Move. I am behind you.”

Elliot didn’t question it. She turned, sprinted down the path the other three had created. Liana’s gunfire followed after her in cut-time. New shrieks and growls sound from the beasts that were slain behind her. Elliot tripped, fell forward smacked her head into something hard. Her face fell into the soft dirt, her mind dazed from the impact. She recovered, scrambled back on her hands and knees. She run smack into a lumbering creature as it crossed the path in front of her. It was as tall as her on four legs, its skin the color of pus, with large spikes on its back for protection. It glanced sideways with a prehistoric snout, gave a smelly grunt, then continued forward.

Her heart skipped a beat, but was spurred to speed by gunshots that drew closer. The trees rustled, parted as Liana appeared and the creature ambled past into the jungle’s depths. Liana pulled her up, shoved her along the path. An abrupt silence fell over the jungle while Elliot’s legs regained their speed, charged her through the brush to a small, circular clearing.

From the far, left-side, Raymond and Chad looked on in horror as a bipedal creature pulled its claws from Anthony’s gut. Four other bipeds had encircled them. Elliot froze. Liana stopped, confused, turned to see the scene that unfolded before them.

Anthony was on the ground, the lead biped hunched over his abdomen. Elliot screamed obscenities, raised the pistol. The beast rose, mad a slow turn. Anthony’s flesh hung from its clawed hands, blood dripped from its muzzle-like mouth onto large, armor-plated muscles across its torso. The muffled gurgle of blood signaled Anthony’s screams, forced the pistol to bark until it clicked empty. The animal stumbled backward, jolted by the force, but uninjured. The bullets fell to the ground, crushed by the impact.

The other creatures seemed confused, began a slow advance on the two women. Grunts and growls turned to roars in steps with their short gait. Liana flicked a lever on the rifle, its magazine fell free. Its impact with the ground startled the beasts for a moment, but they soon continued their slow advance.

In a blink Raymond and Chad sprinted off. Liana slapped in a new magazine, sprayed ammunition at the bipeds. They stumbled back in shock, gave the women enough time to make for Anthony. They each grabbed an arm, drug him away at top-speed. He spit up blood, tried to scream, writhed and shook. They forced their way to the path on the other side. The bipeds suddenly screamed with a deafening plethora of frequencies that rasped over the jungle. The biped’s feet pounded the soft ground, then charged after them. A low rumble sounded off in the distance; a second shock-wave had begun.

Ahead, the jungle opened onto the rock shore-line. Raymond and Chad beckoned them from the water’s edge, shouted for them.

“Help her,” Liana yelled, releasing Anthony.

The others rushed toward Elliot as the ground gave a violent lurch. In a flash, Liana’s hands produced the white, clay blocks, tossed them into the jungle.

She shouted, “Down!”

She dove against the throbs in her abdomen, landed with a glance back. Three of the bipeds were within steps of the white blocks. Her hands were ready with a small box and switch. She flicked the switch. An explosion light the darkness, rained fire on the tree-line, and propelled the bipeds into the air. Their bodies and limbs were torn asunder, cooked to a crisp as debris from the jungle expelled with them.

Beneath them, the ground rocked with a second violent tremor that Liana fought to crawl for the others as they gathered around Anthony. He clutched at Elliot’s arm. Tears dripped from her face. She sniffled hard, gripped his hand. A final gleam from his eyes rolled way, and the life left his body.

Elliot’s heart ripped in two, shattered by the quake of the Earth beneath her and her own guilt. Animals shrieked, cried from the jungle as the fire spread rapidly along the tree-line. Even so, she didn’t hear it, too numb to feel anything but the hands that clasped her shoulder, maneuvered her around to face Liana. She mouthed a word Elliot didn’t hear, but read, “Dive!”

They divided Anthony’s gear, as she kissed his forehead, and slid a bloody hand over his eyes to close them. A moment later, they dove into the water as the last of the quake trembled into nothingness beneath them. Elliot gave a final, last look at the fiery horizon, cursed her vanity and the “lost world,” and dove in.

Epilogue

The surviving members of the team reached the surface without difficulty, and on time for their departure. They said goodbye to Liana, whom promised to attend Anthony’s funeral, but said little else the rest of the trip. John was elated at their discovery, seemed to regard Anthony’s death as a sacrifice for science. Elliot felt otherwise.

Upon presenting the evidence to John, they learned that Anthony had taken up filming after Chad’s initial injury. He had managed to capture everything they had experienced during the final hours, including the bipedal creatures and sounds of his final breaths. Elliot released the tape to the public, warned of the dangers of a return expedition. There was a resounding silence before the media and the masses exploded, most with questions most directed at John and his museum’s ethics.

While the resulting recognition afforded Elliot and the others several, considerable research grants concerning the samples they had retrieved: The moss alone was considered as a replacement light and heat-source if the luminescent chemicals could be extracted, synthesized. Despite the academic community’s insistence that they spear-head the research, Elliot and her team refused, turned the work over to another team, and set about other avenues of work.

True to her word, Liana ventured to America for Anthony’s funeral; a small service that consisted of an empty casket, and hallowed earth watered with tears. In his honer, the National Science Foundation, established a substantial foundation to be awarded each year to select, graduate students in paleo-sciences for doctoral research. And though Liana had only ventured to America for a short time, with plans to return home, the worsening relations between Abkahzia and Georgia forced her to reconsider. She was soon offered, and accepted, a position as head of security at a newly established research facility headed by Elliot and her team.

Although the team vehemently protested each time, several new expeditions were outfitted to attempt to breach the cavern. Each team that left failed to return. When one finally did, they reported that the underwater passage Elliot had marked on the maps was blocked off, likely by the recent increase in tectonic activity registered by SGSM. The passage that had allowed them entry was, as Elliot hoped, now permanently sealed. While new species of marine life continued to appear within the Black Sea, requests for further search-efforts for entrances to the Lost world were futile; everyone, including Elliot and her team, knew the passage should remained sealed, the remaining secrets of Krubera forever concealed to man.

The Lost World had been found, and so far as most cared, that was all that mattered. Whatever had yet to be discovered there was little more than with man’s vain hope to understand what he ought not to. It was a realm where neither Humanity, nor its progeny, was welcome– one that should be allowed to forever carry out its curious machinations without them. Until, perhaps, it was once more lost to the annals of time that had so long ago buried it deep within the Earth, and hidden it from all who might seek it.

Krubera: Part 6

October 30, 2015October 29, 2015 ~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

The Plains

The five set out across the plains with relative ease. The lakes that dotted the landscape here and there, sank through the haze the nearer they came. The tall grasses hid them beneath the gentle sway the wind imparted to them. Every few minutes, one of the group would stop to gather samples of the different foliage and soil. Raymond remarked on the odd composition of the latter, cited that the minute composition of limestone was inconsistent with the world’s place inside a mountain.

As they trudged forward through the knee-high grass, Raymond mused aloud to the others, “It’s possible that the peninsula has been here for millions of years in its entirety. Gagrinsky may have grown upward as the plates shifted, closed it off from everything but the Black Sea. It could have been only a small pond then, or even a lake– smaller than it is now.”

“How do you explain the ceiling then?” Chad asked, the camera at his eye as it captured the plains with a wide, slow pan.

“I can’t be sure until there’s a core drilling,” he admitted. “But I suppose one theory could be arches. If they had spanned the chasm from one side of the growing range to the other at its peak, it would have only been a matter of sediment, dust, or anything else settling over them for millions of years to create the ceiling.”

A ear shattering shriek split the air. Like that of an eagle but much in higher pitch. It dizzied them with a sine that spiraled downward into a growl. The group froze in its tracks, scanned the skies. The luminescent ceiling was all that cut through the thick mist, visibility reduced to little more than a few meters.

“The predators are out now,” Anthony said as he rubbernecked the mist. “Prey must be diurnal.”

Elliot’s voice was airy, quiet, “Probably why we haven’t seen anything yet.”

They waited, listened. When the next call came, it was further off, headed away from them.

Elliot sighed relief, “C’mon. We don’t know how long the day lasts here”

Liana readjusted the rifle in her hands, followed Elliot to match her pace.

To the right, a pond was half-shrouded by mist that seemed to sink further and further toward the ground. Elliot hoped it wouldn’t delay their trek– it was already getting harder to see the forested ridge, and she didn’t like the idea of climbing in the fog. While the day might last much longer here, as the laws of the surface need not apply, it might also be much shorter. Though it was certain the cavern’s light-source had curiously thickened the air. Her lungs were heavy, fatigued by the foreign oxygen.

“Wait, wait,” Elliot said with a flail of her hand.

She turned for the others, worried for the oxygen levels. Liana watched her step past with curious look, turned to follow her again. The shriek sounded high overhead. Elliot froze mid-step, her mind blank. Liana crouch-walked to her, pulled her downward. With a slow, calculated momentum, she shouldered her rifle, raised it to the skies, the mist too dense to see anything.

The shriek pierced their ears, forced hands over heads.

Liana swiveled, yelled, “Down!”

The team fell to the ground, covered their ears against another shriek. A shadow raced at Liana as she dropped; a massive gray blur that swooped down, skirted the air where Liana’s head had been. Air rushed as it passed, cried out with a vile high-pitch to their ears at such close range.

Liana yelled, “Up! Up!”

The group had just enough time to regroup in a single-file crouch, when the second run came. She waited, timed her words, caught sight of a spear-like beak, barbed at the lower end, attached to a swept back, horned head. Its appeared as a demonic crane that rocketed at them. She yelled.

They were on the ground before it passed, but Chad screamed. He lay on his back, a wolf-sized predator atop him. Liana took aim, fired her rifle in short, loud bursts. The bullets sprayed green blood from its lizard-like body. It thrashed in pain and anger, its long beak embedded in Chad’s shoulder. Forelimbs extended from its torso, forced Chad agaisnt the ground. The body gave a hard jerk, ripped its beak free. Blood dripped from the barbs as it yelped, shrieked. It reared up at Liana atop Chad’s chest. Her rifle rose. The creature’s feet balled up. It sprang toward Liana. She squeezed the trigger.

The creature animal was blasted backward mid-leap, fell with a twitch. It leaked, milky, green translucence from its body, bore no feathers, but forearm-thick muscular bulges beneath its leathery wings.

Chad screamed again. Elliot rushed over examined his wound; the beak had pierced straight through the left clavicle.

Liana shouted, “Get him quiet!”

Elliot opened her mouth to speak, her voice drowned in a high, rasping roar. This one was much closer, Terran in nature. Raymond and Anthony rushed to Chad, silenced him. Second and third roars came from opposite directions. Before Elliot could speak, Chad was silent, on his feet. Blood leaked from his shoulder, his face red from the pain, he moved fast. He hurried past her, then Liana, sprinted away from the sounds.

“Get him before he’s out of sight,” Liana commanded.

She took up aim once more as Elliot and the others sprinted past her. Her feet made slow, quiet back-steps, her eyes darted around the forward area. The roars came again, ahead of her this time.

Light thumps were all that was audible until a heavy breath emitted death and dried blood at her. The silhouette of a medium-sized animal sped across the path the team had made. Its spine was curved, like that of cat’s, but the muzzle was large, blunt. It bounded across, disappeared into the mist. Liana’s feet worked her backward at a slow, consistent pace, the distant team audible behind her.

The first Terran-creature rushed at her in a diagonal path. Two bursts spattered blood from its chest. Its legs gave out mid-bound. It tumbled forward, end-over-end, dead. Life faded from its yellow eyes, visible in deep sockets and framed above a heavy jaw-line. Sinew and wounds made the beast’s head appear as though its skin had been turned inside out. Its ears were absent, mere openings near the crown. The other beasts growled a heavy menace. Liana’s feet worked faster, were too slow.

The two beasts came into view. Their blunt snouts flared with razor-sharp teeth. A second set gave a violent oscillation from the back of the throat. They launched at her in unison. The rifle barked without aim. Liana was tackled, the rifle thrown from her hands. Heavy claws dug into her sides. She screamed in agony, felt blood drain from her sides. She grasped for the diving knife at her waist, managed to thrust it hard into the weight on her chest.

One of the beasts stumbled back with a high yelp. The second took its place, dug its claws deep into her chest. The stench of death overwhelmed her, the pain torturous. The beast made a sharp inhale as it sniffed, snorted at her, opened its mouth to reel back its head for a death-strike. Its head snapped forward, met her arm to block it. Teeth sank into her forearm, lashed it from side to side. She struggled to keep the beast’s teeth from her neck, tried to roll away, felt the SMG beneath her. She rolled back and forth. Her arm weakened. The weapon slipped out beside her.

With a forceful hand, struck the beast in the neck. It rasped, stumbled back. The SMG rose. The beast returned, readied to strike. The barrel pressed the neck, spewed ammunition from the barrel to shred its airways, and severe its spinal cord. Liana’s adrenaline kept the trigger down as she scurried backward, the creature dead. Her hand released only after it fell over dead.

She swallowed hard, bloody and sickened, turned for her rifle. Shouts and screams emitted from the direction the team had gone. She retrieved the rifle and her knife, sprinted with a limp after the sounds. Each breath was a knife in her side, but she dared not stop. Torn flesh burned and bled from beneath her shredded wet-suit. She stumbled down Chad and the others had created as their shouts grew louder, coherent.

Elliot yelled with desperation, “Your knives! Get your knives!”

Liana emerged from the mist into a small grove of trees, the other four bound up by thick vines, suspended a meter in the air.

Anthony’s neck was stretched upward, his voice a grunt, “It hurts!”

“Liana, No!” Elliot screamed.

She stopped with heavy pants, looked to the ground. More, long vines, thick as sea-rope criss-crossed the patchy soil with hundreds of small thorns and wet suckers in them like a squid.

“Don’t…. touch them,” Elliot shouted, her breath strained as the vine squeezed her.

Liana dodged the vines with nimble feet, watched the team rise slowly upward. Her eyes followed the vines upward and deep into the canopy of conifers. She found a bare spot where the vines had been triggered, stepped into it.

She called to the others, “Stay still.”

The rifle rose in her hands, grazed the torn flesh at her abdomen. The rifle cracked once. A bullet whizzed over Elliot’s head, split the vine that curled around and over her. She fell free, hit the grounded with a winding thud, coughed and choked for air. Liana shifted her aim, freed the others with more cracks of the rifle.

Elliot choked for air, pushed herself up. Her throat rasped for air as she tore thorns form her arms and sides, brushed off a viscous liquid that had begun to coat her. Raymond and Anthony did the same, hurried to Chad on the ground whom struggled to breathe.

Liana took careful steps over the vines, examined Chad’s wounds, “He’ll be fine. Get him up. Chad moaned, took a sharp breath. Liana neglected her own injuries, to help lift him, “We need to move.”

She checked the magazine in the rifle, cast it aside, for a new one. Elliot stepped to her, knelt to examine the jagged skin at her belly. It had been scalped to the dermal layer, the epidermal-layer like a flap that hung, still connected.

“Jesus, what the hell happened?” Elliot asked as she surveyed the puncture wounds.

The animal’s claws had stabbed her sides as though it had tried to grasp her. The motion necessary suggested digits that moved independent of the hand or foot connected, like fingers.

“You need to be bandaged,” she said, her voice grave.

“We need to move.” Liana protested.

“Damn right we do, but we’re not going anywhere with you like this,” she said, poking a finger into the wound. Liana fell to her knees, gasped and whimpered. “Ray, Tony; I need gauze, alcohol, and pain killers.”

Liana doubled-over, clenched her eyes shut and grit her teeth, “What are you going to do?”

Raymond passed over supplies to her, Anthony still at work on Chad, now propped upright. Raymond knelt to aid Elliot, poured alcohol onto a large swath of cotton-cloth.

“This is going to hurt,” he winced, sympathetic.

“Do it any–”

He swabbed the wound. She screamed through her teeth, tortured by fiery needles. Her voice resounded off the trees and the empty clearing. It was answered by a shriek.

“Son of a bitch!” Anthony cried backward. “Can’t we be off the menu just this once?”

“What do you expect, we’re wounded prey to them,” Elliot said over Liana’s cries.

She tried to silence herself, but Elliot’s knife was out. It sliced away the torn flesh, gave way to a hard pressure against her exposed dermis. Tears squeezed through her eyes, stuttered breaths inhaled with whimpers. Elliot wrapped her abdomen with a large roll of gauze, threw her hands back and forth fast.

“Done,” Elliot said to Raymond. “Get her up.”

They got beneath either of her shoulders, lifted her to her feet. She hung limp from the pain, the weapons at her back dangled, smack together. Her feet caught the ground, took off with Raymond at one-side. Elliot helped Anthony lift Chad, followed after the others. Their legs ached from the slope of the forest, the shrieks nearer behind them. Elliot glanced back to see a small animal scamper into view, devour the piece of Liana’s flesh she’d left behind.

The slope peaked a few moments later, the shrieks banked away, headed back for the scene of carnage Liana had left behind. The treeline opened ahead. A dirt clearing appeared with a river through one third of it. The mist was thinner here, the far-side of the river clearly stone as it would off and round to the right. Small crocodile-like creatures sat lazily on the far side of the bank, as if sunning themselves. The group slowed, quieted.

The creatures resembled their surface relatives in every way, save for their minute size. They were as large as a toy dog, with heavy jaws and short, squat snouts in place of a croc’s wide rounded one. Their claws were long, stiff, stuck out several inches from finger-like appendages. The crocodile creatures seemed to notice them, but paid them, no mind. Even so, the group passed by them nearer the trees, came to a downward slope.

Liana begged to stop, panted for water. Raymond set her upright against a rock, her face pale, covered in sweat. Elliot grabbed for a bottle, handed it over, set Chad beside Liana.

She checked his wounds, moved onto Liana, “How’re you doing?”

“Fine, just… tired,” she breathed, weak.

“Looks like blood-loss,” Chad said. “But I wouldn’t rule out poison.”

“No poison… just tired.” Liana wheezed.

“It could be both,” he siad with a look to Elliot. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Its blood loss,” Raymond said with certainty. “I’m exhausted, and I didn’t get attacked like she did. Plus her wounds were clean– there would have been some residual left over if it were poison. Discoloration of the wound, discharge, a reaction from the alcohol– something.”

Anthony fell back in a sit beside Chad, “I think we’re all exhausted, but we’ll need to keep moving. We’re going to have to set camp eventually.”

“Christ, I wish we’d just slept through the day,” Chad groaned.

Anthony was sarcastic, “Why? So we could be eaten in our sleep?” He shook his head. “Look the fact is, it will get dark again. When that happens we have to move, otherwise we will be eaten. The night will be our best time.”

“Then we need to find somewhere safe, out of the way and off the ground,” Elliot said, with a glance around.

The path ahead sloped down, but the river twisted off in the opposite direction. Both paths disappeared back into canopied forest. She was at a loss, if they stayed in place too long, they risked an attack, but if they headed back into the mist now, they risked having to set camp in the open grassland.

She sighed frustration, “Set camp here. We need to rest, and this seems like the safest place we’ve come across so far. When we do leave, we’ll head back down into the mist and the trees. Two tents. Pack it in.”

Raymond and Anthony acknowledged with a nod, broke open two tents and helped the others into them. Elliot sat watch for the first two hours the others slept until Raymond woke to relieve her. She handed over the pistol Liana had given her. He ushered her into a tent. Liana lay on the floor, deep in sleep, her breath labored from pain and morphine. Elliot settled beside her, fell fast into sleep.

She was awoken by Chad four hours later, sat up with a start. His arm was now placed in a make-shift sling, made from a torn remnant of his flannel over-shirt. He put his free finger to his lips, motioned for her to follow. She grabbed Liana’s SMG, crawled out. The area had changed since she had slept; now free of mist and with a receded river while daylight waned overhead.

Chad crouched at the rock they’d taken refuge at, pointed across the river with his uninjured arm and the video-recorder in his hand. There, by the water, were a dozen, long-necked animals. They bore features of deer, save that their skin was of hard, reptilian scales, and their bodies sported thick-veined muscles. They reached up into the low trees, chewed off large sections of the needles that crunched in their triangular muzzles. The smallest ones, juveniles Elliot guessed, sprinted at trees. They leapt up, suddenly began to climb like an arborist with spiked shoes. She took the camera from Chad to zoom in on the creatures’ feet. Where a normal hoof was rounded, adapted only for running, these also had large, heavy spikes in the front, no doubt for climbing.

They watched the animals in silence for a few minutes while they finished their meals and bounced off into the forest. Elliot was elated; for once they weren’t on the menu, and it was almost worth it. She was taken by the alien beauty of the scene, her mind on the creatures’ skin.

She mused at Chad beside the rock, barely above a whisper, “Everything here seems to have evolved from reptilian ancestors, or else adapted their distinguishing features; hardened skin or scales, long bodies, jointed feet, etcetera. All of their natural defenses are reptilian too; sharpened spins, or vestigial bones, barbs– I’ve yet to see a single feathered animal.”

Chad was silent for a moment, replied thoughtfully, “You think Ray’s right?”

“You mean about the rock bridges?”

“Yeah. You think its possible?”

“I’m not a geologist,” she admitted. “But I trust Ray. If he thinks that might be it, I agree.” Chad hesitated, then, “It does seem odd though. I wouldn’t have thought any number of arches could’ve formed this.”

An idea came to her, her voice hushed, “Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t see it before!” Chad’s brow furrowed in confusion. “That’s why everything here is so radically different.”

Chad’s confusion manifested words, “Elliot, what the hell are you talking about?”

“The Single-Impact Chad, that’s what did it.”

Chad still wasn’t following, but he knew what the “Single-Impact” was. Postulated by Luis and Walter Alvarez in 1980, the Single-Impact Theory stated the last, massive extinction event was most probably caused by a hundred-and-eighty kilometer wide asteroid. After it struck the Earth, the changes to the global atmosphere would have equaled that of thousands of atomic bombs. The result was extinction of some seventy-percent of Earth’s life at the time.

Chad had only begun to piece it together, when Elliot helped him along, “The bridges form right?” She illustrated long arches with her hands, “It takes thousands, maybe millions of years of water for the valley between sides to form, leaves the arches behind. The result is two, connected edges of a mountain range that frames the valley’s ceiling– like rafters of a roof.” Her hands hands made a quick slide sideways, “Then, the water recedes. Sediment and soil blow around for eons, end up sprinkled on top of the framing. Meanwhile, the water moves inland again as the mountains begin to rise. The combination blocks off what, at the time, could have been described as horseshoe valley. Finally, the impact event occurs, and the dust and fallout settles over the extensive “framing,” and finishes the roof. Over the eons, the mountains grow, shift, over take it.”

Chad understood at last, his eyes wild, “Do you know what this means?”

Elliot’s tone matched his eyes, “This world is the direct lineage of the world before the impact event. And it’s been totally preserved.”

Krubera: Part 5

October 23, 2015October 23, 2015 ~ S.M. Nolan ~ Leave a comment

The Lost World

Elliot rose from her dazed, half-sleep at the incessant beep of her wrist device, programmed to alert of dawn on the surface. Across the small, LCD screen, SGSM relayed the local weather; “MORNING: SUNSHINE, AFTERNOON-NIGHT: RAIN AND THUNDER.”

She read it over twice, marveled at SGSM’s ability to reach her here, through the mile of mountains and caves above. Her minor awe gave way to a sore groan, and a stiff neck and back as she pushed herself up for the tent’s flap. Her pack scraped gravel on rock, was drug out with her other gear into a pile to break down the tent. The others awoke at the disturbance, followed suit to stow their gear, and encircle the pile of glow-wands and torches, They made plans by its eerie green light while Liana half-listened from a far, and Anthony passed out a handful of sheathed diving knives.

He affixed his knife to a leg as he explained, “The final passage could be long, end in a shaft with thousands of those creatures. We should be prepared to defend ourselves if we need to.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t, and we don’t,” Elliot said.

Though it was a discovery of epic proportions, a single species wasn’t the lost world she sought. Even if there were millions of that said, single species, hidden away in a cavern that had been lost to time, she needed more to justify the expense that had been spent.

The group hoisted up their packs, re-fixed their air-tanks to run the few, last-minute checks, and exchanged their boots for fins.

Elliot ran a double-check on everyone, with close attention to Liana’s gear, “’Gonna be okay with the weight?”

“Zelenyĭ.” Elliot’s face sketched confusion. Liana sighed, “Yes.”

Elliot stepped for the water’s edge, the others lined up beside her, “If something happens, pull the tether.” She gave the length of cord that connected them a tug, tightened the three and a half meters of line between each of them, Elliot at its lead.

She bled her air hose’s line, “Let’s do it.”

The breather’s rubber mouth-piece set into place on her mouth, and she dove with torrent of aeration around her. Her feet kicked forward until the resistance on her line slacked, then tightened four more times. They were all in the water now.

She clicked on the HID flashlight at her wrist, grabbed it up to shine it backward. One-by-one, beams flared on at her, each of the team-members illuminated by the piercing, bright light. With a thumbs up, and a quick, left-to-right flick of her light, Elliot turned away, began to swim forward.

The passage seemed endless from the start; her beam shattered the darkness until it overpowered the light, swallowed it whole. She made, slow, forward progress, the others in time with her. Their wrist lights scanned each crack, crevice, and bulge of stone twice-over to assure nothing lay in wait to ambush them. Not a single nook nor cranny of the twenty-meter deep passage escaped scrutiny.

They continued on at the slow, methodical pace for roughly twenty minutes, until Elliot’s light hit debris on the floor, forced her to pause. She angled back at the others, tread water to motion them up. Her light swung back on to floor and debris, twitched up at the ceiling. Not even Liana needed to be told what the debris meant; this was where the shaft had once ended, evidently broken open by something– most likely, an earthquake or a simple, tectonic shift. Whatever the cause, it single-handedly proved at least half of Elliot’s hypothesis. Krubera’s depths had been opened to them. Whether or not her Lost World was truly ahead, only time would tell, but at least she’d been partially right.

Elliot studied the damaged ceiling and the debris; huge chunks of rock had been dislodged, large enough that even the five of them, together underwater, could have lifted a single one. If it had taken such force to create the fracture, open the door way to what lay ahead, should it have been opened? She asked the question somewhere in the back of her mind, but had no time for its various philosophical conundrums; they were running out of air, living on borrowed time.

She motioned forward again, continued half a kilometer as the passage slowly shrank in height and width. At times it bulged wider, even deeper than before, but ever-returned to its claustrophobic narrowness. After the fifth bulge, the floor-to-ceiling distance was less than two-thirds what it had been when they’d entered it.

Just as she thought it might go on forever, Elliot’s light kissed an opening, sprinted forward into a wide, open darkness beyond. She followed after it, stopped short as a school of three-hundred fish swam darted through the light in angled paths. The rest of the team caught up to her, stopped beside her just beyond the opening.

The spectacle ahead was nearly indescribable, large bass-like fish, patterned in various hues of concentric rings, boucned the light of their torches off thick, armor-like scales. They lacked any ocular organ, but along their sides ran thick, scaled-tubing just below their dorsal fins. It seemed present everywhere on the dozens of species of fish that criss-crossed the large, open lake just beyond the reaches of her light; an extensive, over-adaptation of a surface-fish’s lateral line. She caught trout-like bodies with dorsals that sported wide, translucent webs between sharp, spear-like spines. Other, frying-pan shaped, round-fish bore tails and anal-fins that shared the spiny protrusions, and long, stream-lined shapes with thickened pectoral and pelvic fins. The latter suggested an evolution meant to increase speed and maneuverability without hindered defense.

One of the stream-lined schools wandered too close, caught sight of her small movements to stay steady beneath the water, and shot off with frightening speed into the darkness behind it. She smiled, suppressed giddy glee; before, she’d been apprehensive of admitting the inevitable, but now she wanted to scream it from the highest mountains– she had found the lost world!

For more than seven hundred years, man had speculated on its existence. Decades of contemporary media frenzy made the phrase an overt selling point for books, movies, and television shows, its original idea diluted beyond recognition. The lost world had become anything hidden beneath a rock, under a canopied jungle, or tucked away just out of view. But this world was different, a picture of evolution in action to surpass any they knew of.

While many of her colleagues no longer subscribed to the theory, preferred the watered-down Hollywood versions, Elliot had sought the glory and splendor of its pure form. The select few that shared her version said that it was trapped somewhere in a jungle, or hidden within an unexplored ocean, or ancient tundra. Elliot said caves, and now she was right.

A strange feeling rippled through her; they needed to continue, but…. Something stopped her train of thought. Light bounced and flitted around her, the tether tugged back, her body went with it, reeled in toward the others.

A massive silhouette thrashed left-to-right just out of range of the group’s lights. The ripple she had been small school of eel-like fish that fled from the silhouette. They cut through the water like snakes with fins, swarmed into the tunnel with a powerful wake. Elliot’s attention was fixed to the mass in the shadows; It swam like a shark, undulated in circles that drew it closer, but was shaped like a crocodile in profile. The long, blunt figure was thin from top to bottom, roughly eight-meters from head to tail. Its jaws and teeth would be proportional in size.

Elliot’s heart stopped. They needed a way out of the water, had no idea what lay ahead, and knew there was nowhere to run to behind. Only one hope for escaped was open; a dim-light that glinted dully of the surface far forward and above the canopied passage that they hid in. Elliot’s muscles were frozen, petrified. They would have to cross open-water before they could reach it– and it might not even help if it wasn’t the surface.

Her body shook as she tread around slowly, careful not to create more of a disturbance than necessary. Her hands sank in front of her, made a slow circle. The four understood, inched toward her to form a large circle. Each person now had a view behind and beside the next. They had no choice by to group up, move as one entity in the hopes that the predator would pass by such a large, illusory animal, or avoid it entirely. Their evasion tactic was the as that of schooling fish, but could it work in a world where fish had evolved differently? There was only one way to know.

They kept ranks, closed the small gaps that formed around them, schooled forward languidly. Their breaths quickened collectively, the aerators bubbled faster. The predator turned for them. Elliot drew a sharp inhale from her mouthpiece, forced back a stuttered cry. It closed the distance to the edge of her torch’s light, appeared in full-view.

Its crocodile-shaped head gave way to a slender, shark-like body absent of a dorsal fin that cut a swath through the water. Its pectoral fins left small wakes behind it with sharp spines, swept back to a massive tail that propelled it forward with sideways pumps. The body gleamed as the light caressed it, rubbery and with more, barbed spines that stuck out every which way, and were clustered around the cranial hump near its crown.

Elliot’s hand went for her knife, unsheathed it as they schooled forward, angled for the surface.

The predator’s tail snapped sideways. It shot through the water with unnatural speed. The group split down the middle, missed it by a hair’s breadth. It followed through, overshot by a meter to come about at them. The group re-formed behind Elliot with Anthony at the lead; its maneuvers were slow, but its charge was lightning fast.

Anthony back them up and across the open-water. His aerator belched with terrifed breaths that made massive plumes of bubbles every few seconds. Another charge came. They split, let it follow through, regrouped faster. Elliot returned to the lead. The creature lumbered in a turn, readied to charge a third time.

Elliot was too slow. The others split, but her trembling arm jumbled a move. She was half way in the path of the thing. A forceful tug on the rope jerked her body back fast, created a strong wake in the water, alerted the beast of their tactic. It followed through a final time to come about, but did not charge. Instead, its fins and tail ceased altogether.

No one dared move, the light from the torches illuminated the terror in one another’s faces as they sank back toward the bottom. The creature descended with them, neared the bottom.

Something rocketed between Chad’s legs, startled him. It forced a shutter through the water. The predator was on him with a dart. Chad dove away, recoiled when his line pulled taught. The broke ranks, cut their lines to swim off as fast as possible. Elliot swam backwards, let the others pass, waited for the creature to round on her.

A might pump its tail force it ’round, another rocketed it towards Elliot. In one motion she balled up and kicked out of its path. It wasn’t enough. Her velocity was too low. One of the jaw’s barbed spines snagged her diving fin. The force of the creatures speed nearly pulled her leg free. It remained intact, drug her along behind it. She bit hard on the mouth-piece, nearly punctured the rubber.

The predator slowed, suddenly sensed her weight. It thrashed, bucked her like a rag-doll. She dropped the torch. Its beam fell to the floor, her eyes largely useless without it. Her hands were rigid, tense. Her arms fought the thrashes for her knife, pulled it free with all of her might.

The dim light from the others’ torches glided up, away, their positioned fixed as it flung back and forth in her goggles. She felt sick, ready to vomit, grit her teeth against the rubber. Her body hunched in a ball to grasp her legs.

The creature began to roll, upend itself to dislodge her. The knife slipped beneath the strap on the fin. With a quick flop, the creature righted itself. The strap slid away. She swore silently, foght for another grip. The predator rolled in the other direction this time, pulled her toward its back and the multitude of barbed spines. Her grip tightened on the knife. It slipped under to sever the strap just as the creature flopped back again. One of its upper-jaw barbs caught her arm with the motion. She screamed through the water. The breather fell free.

Tears formed beneath her goggles. Her arm made angry, erratic flails, hacked at the creature’s face with desperate violence. The knife plunged above the mouth. It snapped, sprinted forward, the knife drug back by the force. It twisted and writhed its way forward, Elliot out of air. The knife came free, her arm still caught, almost shredded to pieces by the flails.

The knife plunged a final time, met the un-armored hump of spines behind the head, sank into flesh softness. The beast struggled harder, Elliot near unconsciousness, ready to drown. A final burst of adrenaline compelled her into furious rage as she pulled the knife out, stabbed it back into the hump a dozen times. It twisted back and forth with a final pierce, forced itself deeper.

The creature’s movements suddenly ceased, and it began to sink, pull her down. Green-tinted blood flowed out from the creatures brain. She hacked at the spine in her arm, her vision narrow and fading. Red mixed with green in the darkness as she hacked off the barb, tore it from her arm. Her hands felt for her breather, her chest heaved. It graced her lips with a welcome breath of oxygen that re-focused her eyes enough to retrieve her light.

She rocketed up and away, glanced back at the trail of blood that leaked from her arm, saw the predator’s body swarmed by smaller scavengers. The open water ahead narrowed quickly to a small passageway, grew shallower. A shock-wave of bubbles appeared as something dove into the water. She shined her light her ahead, her knife ready. A body kicked toward her, accompanied by Raymond’s face. She exhaled, relief, followed him from the water, and burst through the surface at a small rock ledge.

She spit the breather free, coughed and choked for air. Hands grasped and worked to pull her onto the ledge, turn off her air-tank, pull it free form her back. Her eyes clenched shut from pain as Chad began disinfected and bandaged the wound. Her screams and cries were quieted by gritted teeth and the terror of what the might bring. When her eyes finally opened, minutes later, what filled their vision was nothing less than spectacular.

Elliot was awe-inspired. Her mind raced at the implications while her adrenaline flowed with the rush of pain and the glory of their discovery. The rock ledge was roughly a stone beach beside a jungle treeline of palms, ferns, and other thick foliage in a semi-darkness. All around the trees were composed of thick iron-hued bark, that wrapped up the trunks like coils. But at their tops, were leaves with a marvelous, chemical-luminescence that glowed green to taint the area with an eerie light.

Elliot looked closer, saw that everything green glowed, some more brilliant than others. As she marveled at the wonder and eerie beauty, the device at her wrist vibrated. SGSM updated her screen with a scrawl of blocky text; “SGSM READS EARTHQUAKE MAGNITUDE 8.7: EURASIAN-ARABIAN PLATE: SHOCKWAVE ETA; 15-MINUTES TO CURRENT LAT-LONG: ADVISE APPROPRIATE MEASURES.”

Elliot read the update twice; an eight-point-seven was unheard of for the Eurasian-Arabian fault. While the plates had collided more often lately, this would be the largest quake there since SGSM was launched. Elliot found once more questioned what she’d gotten into, informed the team.

“At this depth it’s going to be a hell of a shake,” Anthony said, nerve-wracked from the attack.

“Just keeps getting better doesn’t it?” Chad asked, sarcastic and furious.

Anthony grimaced, “We’re here Ellie. We found it. What’s the next move?”

Elliot looked them over, surveyed her bandaged arm. They were all exhausted, their faces haggard, tired. There was little time before the shock wave would hit, and only two options; the jungle, or a path of tall grasses far to the right, where the tree-line ended. The jungle’s glow menaced her away form it. Jungles had a way of getting people killed easily, quickly, when they weren’t paying attention. Sprinting into it to find cover wouldn’t help. With her vision adjusted to the low-light, she judged it was a half a kilometer to the end of the tree-line that was roughly three to four kilometers wide.

She dropped her pack, removed her fin, “Boots on.” They followed. Elliot continued as she laced and tied her boots, “It’s a half-kilo to the plain– what we’ll call east for now. If we hurry we might it away from the water before the shock-wave hits. Maybe find a safe-spot to brace ourselves in it. Either way, we need to move.”

They finished changing, bolted for the jungle’s edge. The eighteen kilograms of weight at their backs made walks a chore. This was a nightmare. They ran for ten whole minutes without slowing. Their chests heaved with sharp, painful breaths, eyes darted sickeningly for stable ground. Elliot suddenly questioned if anywhere down here was safe. They were sprinting through something that shouldn’t exist, a hollowed-out mountain, where any shock-wave could knock loose tons of limestone from the ceiling. From what Elliot could tell, it was at least two kilometers high, any debris that might hit them….

She didn’t want to think about it, pushed her aching limbs for the edge of the trees ahead. A glance at her wrist said they had less than five minutes, and were only slowing. She felt each weighted step tear at her calves, the weight on her back excruciating. Liana was far at the back, the most encumbered, with almost forty kilos, but Elliot was afraid to look back, check on her.

The first region of plains appeared within reach. Knee-high, wide bladed, grasses imbued with a small glow lit a gentle slope upwards to a hill with sparse, deciduous trees atop it. Elliot used the last of her strength to cut a path through the grasses. They felt wrong against her suit, felt thistle-like, with small punctures, as though it tried to grab hold of her. She slowed further, could hear Raymond’s heavy breaths behind her.

The incline began, steeper than she’d anticipated. A foot misstepped. She stumbled. Raymond caught her mid-stride, drug her up. She scrambled, struggled to regain her balance as he sprinted past, pulled her forward. Raymond let go as she recovered, took the lead. Anthony passed her first, Chad on his heels with terror etched into his face. Liana caught up, matched her pace as she fought her way up the hill. Liana was red-faced, her teeth grit and face serpentine as though madness had seeped in.

They barreled up the hill together, reached the top with the last of their strength and fell into the cover of a large, twisted tree. Its limbs large enough to stand on. Not a moment later, the ground began to shake. They braced themselves against the shock-wave that rocked the ground beneath them with violent heaves. Branches cracked and split in their ears, their eyes clenched shut.

Elliot’s wounded arm shook from agony as she strained to keep herself up. Loud debris hit plummeted to the ground somewhere near the jungle. The ground at one edge of the hill ripped, tore free to heave a large chunk upward and create a plateau. The quake climaxed in a violent, stuttered tremble, that shook their bones and snapped tree-roots with loud cracks of wood.

The last of it drifted off as though it were a massive box-truck that passed by, rumbled the roads it traversed. The sounds and shakes drifted off, dissipated. The five fell to the ground, exhausted. Elliot’s arm bled through its bandage. She sank against the tree, shook from the pain. Liana passed a bottle of water around as Chad re-bandaged her wound.

Exhausted, bloodied, and bruised, Elliot surveyed the plains from the edge of the new plateau. Liana appeared beside her over the scent of MREs warmed on small hotplate. Elliot had redressed in her hiking clothes, her wet suit beneath them before taking in the view. An unsettling beauty in this became more evident as she looked out.

This was a different world, lost millions of years ago, walled up and morphed by natural forces since the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods. Drop-by-drop it seeped back into the other world, the two so radically different they were incompatible. Elliot felt like an alien in this place, physically stressed and stunted by a noon-time darkness. Even so, the sun’s absence to have had little impact on the flora’s prolific abundance. The world must have compensated the sun’s loss with some yet, undiscovered force, but for now it was impossible to say what that was.

Elliot’s mind drifted, her eyes plotted the horizon. She re-estimated the ceiling between twelve and sixteen kilometers high; it accounted for the cave’s entrance, and more than part of the Gagrinsky range. They must have moved further both downward and laterally than she’d realized.

Despite a shroud of mist-like vapor that clung to every inch of the air ahead, four kilometers or more to the north, a small range of jagged rocks rose in a wide berth. The micro-mountains appeared as massive stalagmites accumulated from eons of calcium runoff from the sky above. Between the plateau and mountains, the plains were dotted with rivers like great, veinous tendrils that transferred water from lakes to Eastward beaches like the one they’d emerged on. By the looks of it, the whole lost world was simply a peninsula.

Indeed, the jungle to their west was roughly the five kilometers wide from this angle, a near square when Elliot considered the width they’d seen then run. Beneath the plateau, and East through the sprawl of plains and mist, more, wooded plateaus covered in coniferous trees rose randomly with hazy glows and silhouettes. The trees seemed larger, on the realm of eight or ten times their surface counterparts.

Beside her, Liana sat silently to stare out on the world they’d found. The plateau rose high enough to give them a downward view on the darkened valley they’d come from. The grasses’ effervescent green, provided scarce light that emanated through it with just enough light to see the trampled path they’d made.

Elliot’s eyes were fixed on the mountains and a river that snaked through the plains, into and behind the range. Thin clouds drifted over their peaks to obscure them, as Elliot wondered where the air might have come from. Evidently the trees, or something else, still exhaled oxygen, but it was certainly of a different consistency than their surface counterparts.

It occurred to her now, how heavy and thick the air felt. The CO2 content would have to be higher here, she postulated, due to the creatures’ divergent evolutionary lineage. It gave some time-frame to when the two world split, diverged on their separate paths. It had to have been sometime in the Jurassic or Cretaceous, when the oxygen content and composition was most unlike now, but still enough to allow for respiration. That put the divergence somewhere between two-hundred and sixty-odd million years ago; about the time that conifers ruled the earth, to roughly the last of the dinosaurs going extinct.

The last hundred-million years had altered the earth so greatly, that Elliot found herself both terrified and intrigued at what might lay, unseen, in the distant mists. The water that spilled into the Black Sea was now an exchange of both ecosystems, but even so, nothing had been large enough to suggest even half the divergence they’d already seen. More importantly, the risk of contamination to both words had increased dramatically simply from the quakes. Whatever was here could be in danger of disappearing if the right fish, crustaceans, or even microbes transferred from the Black Sea to the water here. Their own presence alone could be enough to destroy nature’s delicate balance here, but she could think of no other way to protect it but to leave.

Her curiosity wouldn’t let her leave though. She thirsted to understand, discover everything here. It was all so foreign that an internal ecstasy had flooded her veins, while the rest of her fought to keep focused on survival. In truth, they were trespassing in this place, and all of them knew it. If they stayed too long, it would inevitably kill them. And yet, she couldn’t leave– not until she got what she came for, or at the very least, something to return with to prove its existence.

Elliot buried her thoughts, turned her eyes from the eerie beauty around her, to address Liana, “How’s your back?”

She hid her fatigue well, “No worse for wear.”

Elliot sighed, “I can’t believe we found it. It seems so… surreal.”

“I can believe we found it,” Liana admitted. Her voice turned grave, her eyes narrow, “but I am not certain it will allow us to leave.”

Elliot’s eyes widened with alarm, “What? What makes you say that?”

Liana spoke stoically, she greeted her own death, “You said it yourself; this place has been undisturbed for millions of years. Evolution has been allowed to adapt unabated by a human presence. Everything here is a possible danger. There is no co-habitation of man. No degradation of nature at the hands of Humanity. It does not fear us. We are food, nothing else. In our world, we rule. We control nature to suit ourselves. If we have illness from plants, we eradicate the plants or artificially mutate ourselves so that they are no longer a concern. We control our world. But this world–” She hesitated with a distant look through the plains. “This world controls its inhabitants. These two methods of existence are mutually exclusive. Either we won’t survive, or it won’t. It is the nature of the universe to be chaotic and disordered. That pits the odds against us.”

Elliot’s chest was stabbed form the silence after her profound words. Her mind drifted to the strange creature at their cavern campsite. It was only then that she realized how eerily silent the valley was. Other than a breeze that swayed the grasses of the plains, there was no wind. Its silent stillness contradicted the most-accepted theories of Jurassic and Cretaceous evolution. Most stated that animal life, thought to have gone extinct, gradually evolved into avian creatures. She expected to find flocks of birds that screeched endlessly, glided through the air or fluttered between the treetops. But she saw none, not even the creature they’d found in the cavern.

Concern bubbled in her, popped by Anthony’s voice that rippled her chest, “Elliot?”

“Huh?”

He shot her a look, “You alright?”

“Yeah. Just… thinking. What’s up?”

He nodded slowly, skeptically, stepped up beside her, “I was wondering what you thought of filming things. This’d be a good place to start, right?”

Her mind returned to the task at-hand; to document their discoveries, retrieve samples for John and the Museum. She turned away from the plateau’s edge and Liana, “Yes, it would.”

Liana seemed to consider something, then followed her Anthony toward the trees where Raymond and Chad had sat to eat. When Elliot was sure they were ready, she began, “We need samples from everything here; grass, soil, trees, rocks– anything that visibly differs from a previous sample, needs to be re-sampled. In the mean time, someone needs run the camera. We have enough battery and video for forty-eight hours. It’s important we take back as much evidence as possible, otherwise the museum may not organize a second expedition.” They nodded in affirmation. She continued, “If we’re able to get near any Fauna that can be filmed, we need to focus on showing a clear, evolutionary difference form anything we’ve seen before. Since everything here seems radically different than surface life, it shouldn’t be much of a problem, but it goes without saying.”

She looked at the team’s tired faces, lit and shadowed by the luminescent patchwork of bark, grass, and amorphous leaves around them. She knew they were exhausted, but in just two days they were scheduled for a return flight from Abkhazia, and needed to move as fast as possible.

“Way I see it, there’s five main sections to the area: The jungle, water, plains, forest and mountains,” Elliot said as she turned away from the group, gestured outward. “We need as many samples as possible from each area. We’ll save the jungle for last, hit it on our way out. Tony, where’s your book?”

He handed over his sketch-book. She drew up a crude map of landmarks with an X for their position. She set a compass rose on the map, placed the jungle at the west, the mountains to the northwest, and the forested plateau to the east and south-east. The water south encompassed most of the, with a circle and the word “passage” scrawled near the entrance they’d found. She etched out a route, prepared to alter the route in time. It stretched forward into the plains, curved with them to the mountains, and down to the jungle and water.

She passed it off to the others, “We’ll start moving in twenty minutes. Until then, I need two people taking samples from here, and someone getting as much footage as possible from this vantage point. If we find a suitable place along the trail, we’ll set camp. Chad, cam duty; Tony and Ray, samples.” They set to work as she looked to Liana, “I need to see your bag.”

She nodded, dropped her pack to remove the components of several weapons. In the space of five minutes, she assembled three firearms of various sizes beside boxes of ammunition of their calibers.

“Jesus,” Elliot remarked. “Were you expecting an army?”

Liana laughed, “This is standard for any expedition I partake in. Outfitting for war is much heavier.”

“Speaking of which–”

“There is no worry,” she interrupted. “It’s eighteen kilos plus the eighteen you provided. I was trained to carry fifty-five on a light day. I’m fine.”

“This is only eighteen kilos?” Elliot asked, surprised at the arsenal before her.

A pistol laid beside a larger, pistol-like weapon, and beneath a long, menacing rifle. Beside them were small, white, clay-like blocks.

Liana explained, “These are super-lightweight, special law enforcement weapons. The rifle is the heaviest at three kilograms, the SMG at one and a half, and the pistol at one and a third. I brought five magazines each for the rifle and SMG, seven for the pistol. Most of the weight comes from the magazines and ammunition; one hundred rounds for the first two, and ninety-four for the pistol.”

“That’s a lot of ammo.”

Elliot suddenly thought of her fight with the predator, wondered what it would to take down a land predator. She had gotten lucky during the attack. Large land-predators would be much more difficult. She gave an unconscious look at the bandage Chad had affixed as Liana stole her gaze.

“It is not that much. There is no doubt we could use it all.”

“Is this why they sent you? So they could send military armaments to protect us?”

“Not exactly,” Liana admitted uneasily. “Georgian soldiers use Russian hardware. This is German.”

“German?”

“These are Heckler and Koch weapons,” she pointed to each weapon in turn. “The rifle is an S-L-eight, the SMG an M-P-seven, and the pistol an M-K-twenty three. They’re German-made for civilian agencies, collectors, and stockpiles– I believe your own military even uses them– Unfortunately, they are also very illegal right now.”

Elliot suddenly remembered a news article she’d read before she’d left for Abkhazia. Illegal weapons had turned up in militant hands near the Georgian borders. A silent question suddenly rested on her lips, Liana sensed her apprehension.

“I see you have heard something of these weapons, no?” Elliot winced. Liana explained quietly, “Yes, these are militant weapons. Understand this though; the Georgian government sent me, but did not outfit me. I was not walking into the unknown unarmed. As such, I choose the best of what was available to me.”

The words did little to ease her tension at their illegality. If, for some reason, these weapons were connected to her team, they could face a serious issue upon exiting the caves. She stilled a rapid heart-beat; there were more important considerations at hand.

She looked to the white blocks, “So what’s this?”

“Composition-Four.”

“Which is?”

“Explosive ordinance,” Liana replied. “Highly-potent in any quantity. I don’t intend to use it, but it could be useful.”

Elliot’s face filled with concern, “Is it dangerous?”

“Not unless it is armed,” Liana reassured her.

Elliot returned her attention to the weapons, “Will all this do the job?”

“Without a doubt,” Liana replied, her face fixed, certain.

“Give me the pistol,” Elliot said. Liana hesitated, raised an eyebrow. Elliot was instantly defensive, “I’m not walking away unprotected if I have a choice.”

She reluctantly passed Elliot a holster, “Clip it to your belt.” She pointed to a the side of the pistol, flicked it back and forth in its grooved housing. “Safety on while it’s holstered or not in use… Safety off otherwise. Understood?”

Elliot nodded. Liana had been right, the weapon was light in her hands, even lighter as it slid into the holster. She snapped the holster shut, took the magazines from Liana, slipped in them in the pockets of her pack. Liana slung the other two weapons over her shoulder along with her pack.

Chad started for them, “Tapes done, Ellie. Got as much as I–”

A bright light suddenly flared ahead of them. It began to crawl upward along the impossibly distant walls of the cavern, sprinted along to its high ceiling to shower light down on them. It was a fiery, porous sunlight that overtook the brilliance of the chemical luminescence through-out the cavern. As it climaxed in bright haze, the green glow dissolved away and the haze thickened.

Chad fumbled with the camera, pointed it at the ceiling, his voice airy with delight, “Looks like it’s finally morning here in the lost world.”