9

Slater entered the large elevator leading to the caverns with a weight of foreboding in her gut. She had slept fitfully, bugged by any number of anxieties. Worry about Aston and the complicated feelings that circled her mind like vultures. Worry about the job itself, what it might mean, where it might lead. Worry also about the key players. Not just people like Sol Griffin, who was in charge on the ground. He seemed unrealistically upbeat all the time and that discomforted her. But the others, out of sight. Arthur Greene chief among them, the man behind all of this. What did he really want? A new source of green energy was an admirable goal, but was that all of it? And why not be here to see it happen? Perhaps he was old, infirm, agoraphobic. Although being claustrophobic would be more likely to keep him away from this gig. Being down in those caverns and tunnels was oppressive. Anyway, there could be a hundred different explanations. But no matter how she thought about it, she had a bad feeling about the whole endeavor.

Then over breakfast this morning, she had spotted another thing. The entire team acted excited, keen to get to work, all eating fast and talking faster. Except for Sam Aston. He looked pensive, troubled. He watched the rest of the team with a suspicious eye, like he tried to fathom something just beyond his grasp. Like he felt exactly as she did. On a couple of occasions they caught each other’s eye and while there was still ice between them, a new kind of knowing existed too. She still retained a fury at the asshole for what he’d done, but she realized as well that perhaps he was the only genuine ally she could rely on. And it seemed he recognized that about her, too.

They stood near each other in the elevator as it rattled its seemingly endless descent, but they didn’t speak. Aston had a large canvas kit bag over one shoulder, packed full. She had some extra handheld lighting to set up clearer shots, but nothing else. The scientists all carried all kinds of extra kit, and Sol and the security detail carried supplies for a potentially long stint. Though she couldn’t imagine staying under for more than twenty or thirty hours, there seemed to be no reason not to return to the surface regularly. How far did Sol think they might travel underground?

Chatter on the way down was muted, but the excitement remained. When they reached the first cavern, that had been so mind-blowing on the first encounter, they all streamed directly through without a second glance, heading for the impossible door. Dig O’Donnell stood to one side, taking close looks at the stones of its frame, taking more photographs of the carvings on them, double-checking in a notebook and a couple of textbooks he had in his pack. Meanwhile, the others waited restlessly for the guard to push the door open and let them through.

It was a different guard to the day before, Slater noted. Besides Terry Reid and his two henchfolk, Gates and Tate, Slater had seen at least a dozen other base security and hospitality staff around, so she assumed the guard posts changed often. A person would want to be rotated out of standing in a cave all day on their own, after all.

Slater held back Jeff and Marla, set them to recording as the team milled by the door. “Stay by the door here, get everyone passing through, then tail them. Try to get the scale of the place, yeah?”

Jeff nodded. “You got it.” He shifted to one side, Marla moving on his back left like a shadow. For all his infuriating habits, Slater had to admit that Jeff was good at his job. He had an eye for direction, and producer’s knack for the best attention-grab.

The crew all moved along the passageway, leaving only Dig still examining the door and Reid and Tate waiting to bring up the rear. Reid gave a curt smile, gestured Slater forward. She figured the guy had decided to always be at the back, but then again, perhaps that was exactly his job. Although she couldn’t help feeling like a cow being herded to the slaughter. She needed to shake off the black mood that hung on her like a heavy cloak.

A short way along the passage to the next cavern, a discoloration on the smooth wall caught her eye. She moved closer, crouched to see better. Along with regular flashlights, they’d all been issued LED lamps mounted on headbands and she wasn’t wearing hers yet. But she pulled it from her jacket pocket and flicked it on. The patch on the wall was exactly what she’d thought it was. Red. She touched a shaking finger to it, and her fingertip came away wet with blood. It had to be blood. And why was it still wet? She assumed the temperature, humidity, and generally slick surface would have something to do with that, but even so, it had to be fairly fresh. Her mind flickered back to the change of security guard by the door, suddenly now a potentially far more sinister turn of events.

She glanced back. Dig was still examining the door, and Reid and Tate stood back, patient. The other guard, Gates, with his dull eyes, broad stubbled jaw, and generic football jock body shape, had gone ahead with Sol Griffin, leading the party onwards. Aston, leaning into the weight of the bag on his shoulder, had paused and stood looking back at her.

“Sam!” Slater’s voice was a hiss, a forced whisper. She gestured for him to come over. He frowned, clearly wondering what she was up to, but apparently saw the urgency in her eyes and his expression changed. Immediately she saw the friend from Lake Kaarme, and something in her was beyond grateful for that.

He came to crouch beside her and she showed him the smear. “It’s blood, right?”

Sam put a fingertip to it as she had, examined the mark in the light of her headlamp. “Yeah. Gotta be.” He looked around the passage, presumably for any other signs of injury. Then he leaned back, turned slightly. “See how it kind of smears across like that?”

“Like someone was bleeding and they fell against the wall?”

“Or were dragged along it.”

Slater sucked in a breath. “Jesus, Sam.”

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions, okay? We haven’t seen other drops of blood or stains. I can’t see any now.” He gestured to the floor right below the mark on the wall.

“Don’t you think that’s odd?” Slater asked.

“Yeah. Maybe it is. What’s this?”

He reached down, fingers probing into a small crevice where the tunnel wall curved into the floor. He pulled out a metallic blue fidget spinner. “What the hell is this doing here?”

A thrill of shock made Slater’s heart rate speed up. “Remember the guard on the door yesterday?”

Aston’s brow creased as he thought back, then his eyebrows rose and he nodded. “Yeah, of course. This was his.”

“So where is he?”

Sol Griffin appeared beside them, silent as if he’d materialized from the air. “You two okay?”

Without a word, Aston held up the spinner. Slater noticed that he didn’t mention or even indicate the blood stain.

Sol took the spinner, turned it over on his palm. “That’s Aaron’s, he was on duty last night. Must have dropped it. Thanks.” Griffin dropped the spinner into a jacket pocket and strolled away, heading back along the passageway.

Slater frowned, looked at Aston. “Did we just get the brush-off?”

Aston nodded, his eyes troubled.

As they stood to move on, Dig closed up his books and came along, Reid and Tate following.

“Everything okay?” Reid asked, his deep voice echoing off the stone.

“Yeah. All good, mate,” Aston said quickly, flicking a glance at Slater.

She read his intent immediately, Let’s keep this to ourselves for now. She nodded subtly and they all started marching on the long walk through to the next cave. Slater realized that she and Sam had fallen naturally into stride with each other, hanging out together with unspoken ease. She wasn’t sure how good she felt about that, but given the blood on the wall, she could put aside any other hurt and be glad of an ally right now.

Eventually they arrived back in the next cavern and the team slowly investigated, paying more attention than Sol had allowed them time for before. Moving clockwise around the roughly circular space, checking each small tunnel leading away, they discovered the first three only went a few dozen yards before tapering off into dead ends or tiny crevices too small for even a child to get through. The fifth and sixth tunnels were the same. But the fourth one around seemed to go further, and deeper. The floor of it slowly angled into a descent.

“There’s a brighter glow this way,” Jahara Syed called back from some twenty yards down the passage. “I think we should follow it.”

With unspoken agreement, they all filed into the tunnel. Slater checked for Jeff, but he was already on it, filming them pass then falling in behind, only Reid and Tate behind him. She and Aston stayed just ahead of the camera. The tunnel went on, and down, for some time, the only light their headlamps playing hectically as they all looked in different directions. But Syed was right, there seemed to be a greener glow emanating from somewhere ahead. After perhaps a hundred yards of dark tunnel, they emerged into a new chamber.

Slater’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God!”

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