Operation: Mongolia

- 19 -

Banks and Hynd made good time after leaving the dry riverbed behind. The weather had improved markedly, the lack of rain giving their headlights a wider range. They were now able to more easily pick out the rock from the sand and they maintained a better speed than they’d been managing previously. They smoked as they finished the coffee, passing the thermos between them.

“Do you think there are more big buggers like that last one?” Hynd said after a while.

Banks nodded.

“The water’s got them all swelling up is what I think. It might only happen once a decade when the big rains come, but I think we’ve had the misfortune to arrive slap-bang in the middle of the fuckers’ breeding season.”

“And what happens next with them?” Hynd asked.

“I’ll be buggered if I know, Sarge, and I don’t care. Let’s just get the professor and the lad home. That’s all I care about now.”

It only took them twenty minutes to cover the ground it had taken them hours of running to cross. They arrived back at the settlement on the rocky outcrop under a clear starry sky and saw Wiggins coming down the steps to meet them as they parked.

Banks took one look at the corporal’s face and knew it wasn’t going to be a happy reunion.

Once they got to the top of the rock, Banks took Wiggins’ report out of earshot, standing outside the doorway while the others gathered their kit inside.

“I don’t know what else I could have done, sir,” Wiggins said when he was done. “The big fucker was on the roof and when Wilkins hit it, it just fell apart and…”

Banks put a hand on Wiggins’ shoulder.

“Don’t sweat it, Wiggo. We saw the same thing out there tonight and it surprised me as much as it surprised you. You kept your head, the squad did what it had to. The man’s death isn’t down to you.”

Wiggins managed a grateful grin.

“Reid’s in shock,” he said. “He’s coming ‘round but we’ll need to keep an eye on him.”

“Hopefully not for too long now,” Banks replied. “A few hours on the road then we’ll be in town and hopefully able to get some word out about the situation. Get your gear, Wiggo. We’re heading for home.”

When Banks went into the room, he saw that Reid stood staring into what were now the dying embers of the fire.

“We can’t just leave him here,” the younger man said softly. “It’s not right.”

“What’s right is we get you home so you can tell his story,” Banks replied. “It’s all any of us can really hope for and we know where he is—we’ll someone to come and fetch the remains home.”

“Aye,” Reid replied. “Him and his finds can go home in the same box.”

Reid turned away without another word.

Before leaving, Banks had Davies and Wiggins collect the ceramic jars and copper wire and stow them in the rear of the truck. The vases sat alongside the kit bags under the feet of Davies, Wilkins, Wiggins, and Reid where the men sat up on the rough benches that ran down the side of the bed of the truck.

“Just in case,” he said when he saw Hynd’s querying look. He got in the passenger seat and Hynd took the driving duties again. “South, the way we came in. When we hit the road, go east until the service station. We’ll stop there to give you a break and see what’s what.”

They set off south, the truck’s suspension creaking and squealing under the extra weight of the men in the back.

The sun was lighting the eastern sky by the time they reached the east-west track. It had been a bumpy twenty minutes and more than once Banks had heard squeals of protest from the men in the back, but the ride smoothed out when they reached the road and it only took them ten minutes after that to reach the service station. Although it had only been half an hour of driving, the effort of keeping control in the rutted ground had obviously tired Hynd after the exertions of the night before.

“Fag break time,” Banks said as they approached the service station, “then I’ll take a spell at the wheel for a bit.”

The station was as deserted as before, with no sign that anyone had passed since their visit of the day before. The sun came up into a clear sky, the cloud having completely disappeared, heat haze already rising on the horizon. Both rocky ground and sand looked dry, as if last night’s rain was no more than a memory.

“What’s the plan, Cap?” Wiggins said as the squad gathered at the rear of the truck to stretch their legs, get some water in them, and have a smoke.

“We head east,” Banks said. “There’s a town a few hours’ drive away and that’s where we’re headed. I’m hoping this road takes us straight there. Is that right, Doctor Reid?”

Reid hadn’t joined them and was still sitting on the bench in the truck, his head down. When he looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed as if from crying.

“Aye, it should take you straight to town if my bearings are right.”

Banks saw that the man was hurting and offered something he thought might help.

“We can afford a detour—we could go south and pick up your finds.”

“Fuck them,” Reid said harshly. “Whoever comes for the professor can get them all at the same time. I just want to get home.”

“Amen to that,” Wiggins said softly beside Banks.

Five minutes later, they were on the way again, with Hynd in the passenger seat and Banks driving.

The truck felt cumbersome and heavy, unresponsive to the accelerator unless it was pressed to the floor, wallowing in any slightly softer areas and squealing ever more loudly in both axles every time they hit a bump.

“This thing’s liable to rattle to bits before we get too much farther,” Hynd said, lighting another smoke from the butt of the last one.

Banks took the speed down from twenty miles an hour to around eighteen and the ride smoothed out a bit, although the squealing in the suspension didn’t appear to diminish any. It was getting uncomfortably warm in the driving cab now, even with the windows wide open, and he felt sweat trickle down his back.

It’s going to be a long day.

At least the track was a straight line heading east but the heat haze meant that anything beyond a few hundred yards was merely shimmering in the distance. They didn’t spot the hollow until they were almost on top of it; the ground fell away in a dip that ran from their northwest to the southeast, a dip that looked to be more than a mile wide. Banks knew exactly what he was looking at.

“I think it’s all part of the same dry riverbed system,” he said. “This used to be a lake at one time, probably one that the river ran into.”

He brought the truck to a halt at the highest point, looking across the wide expanse of sand. The other side—if there was another side—was invisible in the haze.

“You think this is where the worms that we saw last night were headed? Some kind of final breeding ground?” Hynd asked.

“Given what we’ve seen so far, I wouldn’t bet against it.”

“Do you think we can get across?”

Banks didn’t answer, getting out of the truck to stand on the ridge for a better look down. There was a clear track from their position into the hollow and across the lakebed, but it looked more like compressed sand than rock and stone and the fact that they couldn’t see the far side disturbed him.

“What’s the holdup, Cap?” Wiggins asked. Banks saw that the corporal was already red in the face, developing sunburn from sitting up exposed in the back of the truck.

Banks quickly explained to the others about the migration of worms that he’d seen the night before.

“Aye, but they only come out in the rain, don’t they?” Wiggins said.

“You want to bet against your pension on that, lad?”

“No, but I’m willing to bet yours, Cap.”

“What’s the alternative?” Hynd added.

“Going back to the service station, heading south to the dig site and along the roadway there?” Banks said.

Reid spoke up.

“It’s not any better than this—there’s a big dip just like this one, although I’ve never had any problems driving across it.”

Banks looked down into the hollow again. His gut was telling him it was a bad idea but he was more than ready to get home and by the fastest means possible. He nodded, coming to a decision.

“We’ll chance it. If we’re lucky, we’ll all be in a bar waiting for a lift by this afternoon. You guys in the back keep your eyes peeled and shout if you see anything but I’m not intending to stop for a photo opportunity.”

They headed down into the hollow. The truck wallowed as soon as they left rock and drove onto the sandier terrain but it kept going forward although the top speed was little more than ten miles an hour. The engine ran hotter than it should and they belched out blue smoke from the exhaust. Banks was starting to think the sarge might be right about it rattling apart before the day was out.

But we’re still heading in the right direction.

Half a mile in, Wiggins banged on the roof above Banks and shouted.

“Movement, nine o’ clock.”

Banks looked out his window and saw the surface of the sand dance as several large humps surged through it, worms and large ones by the look of it but heading away to the west. He didn’t slow but only ten seconds later, Wiggins banged and shouted again.

“Movement, eleven o’clock, a hundred yards.”

Banks saw it just in time to slam on the brakes. The truck skidded to a halt in a flurry of sand as a six-foot-high mound went left to right across the track directly in front of them, churning up the road surface and leaving a small hollow in its wake.

Davies banged on the roof above Hynd.

“Movement. Three o’clock, fifty yards… and six o’clock, thirty yards.”

Banks sat there with the engine grumbling over as another mound even larger than the first went across his field of view churning up the track.

We’re surrounded.