Victoria translated along. But when she looked back at Julie, she knew there was something wrong. “That’s just it,” Victoria said. “I haven’t seen any of those shafts, and neither have they.”

  “But… you said they exist.”

  “That’s what they told me, but they haven’t ever seen any from inside the mountain. Their village knew of two, but there was only twenty or thirty feet of length before the shafts were stopped up with rocks and debris.”

  “And they were human-made?” Ben asked.

  Victoria asked the man.

  “Absolutely,” she said after a moment. “They explained that the shafts were square-shaped, with perfectly straight walls, chiseled out of the stone itself. They were part of the myth and lore of the region; a way for the ‘keepers of the mine’ to access the outside world.”

  “Okay,” Reggie said. “We need to find one of these little shafts. Let’s get back to the stairs, head up a level.”

  “Agreed,” Ben said. “If there are any, they’ll be at the top level.”

  Julie found herself once again following along, once again wondering if they would actually be able to find an exit, and once again wondering how she’d gotten them into this whole mess.

  They reached the stairwell — once again — and began climbing. Julie noticed the water level rising, and the pace of the water was increasing.

  74

  Ben

  At the top level of the base, Ben looked around for anything that might hint at potential freedom. Unfortunately the place was exactly the same as they’d left it — the long, straight hallway dumping into the small video booth at the end of the hall, and the smaller, older shaft covered by a curtain next to it. He tried to see if there were anything else that seemed out of place, but the lights were beginning to flicker. Two bulbs near him had already gone out, either from the original explosion and earthquake or due to a short from the flowing water.

  There was no water collecting on the floor up here, but Ben saw it trickling from the ceiling and pouring down the walls. He hadn’t noticed the tiny cracks in the ceiling before, but it was almost as if the ceiling blocks were somehow hovering, not actually connected to the walls. It was a feat of engineering, but it was one he’d seen before.

  Ever since they’d determined that this place had originally belonged to the Atlanteans and Chachapoyas, the details began revealing themselves. The size of the shafts was similar to those of the tunnels they’d found in Egypt, and the design, build quality, and workmanship was exactly the same as well.

  “Want to go to the video room again?” Reggie asked, still holding the Desert Eagle.

  Ben shook his head. “I have no idea. There’s nothing up here. It’s the same as we left —”

  Ben’s feet fell out from underneath him. He felt his knee overextend a bit as he landed hard on it, but he regained his balance. Julie and Reggie crashed to the ground in front of him, while Mrs. E bounced off the wall behind her.

  “The hell was that?” Reggie asked.

  “Aftershock,” Ben answered. “The mountain’s shifting.”

  “You don’t think Sturdivant hit us again, do you?” Julie asked.

  “No need,” Ben said. “The exits were most likely blocked off during the first explosion, and he’s probably got men on the ground to take out anyone who’s made it beyond that.”

  “In other words,” Reggie said. “The mountain’s coming down on top of us.”

  “Just like Jeffers said.”

  To answer, the water surged and picked up, pushed along from a space beyond Ben’s vision. It curled and ebbed against his boots, first at the ankle, then up to his calves.

  “Water’s coming in fast, now,” Reggie said. “We need to figure this out now, guys.”

  Ben was thinking the same thing. They were on the top level of the base, and where there had been no standing water on the floors before there was now a river.

  And that river was rising — fast.

  Two of the Peruvians, a man and a woman, began breathing rapidly. Ben turned to face them when Victoria translated.

  “They cannot swim,” she said. “They are scared.”

  “We’re all scared,” he replied. “But they’re going to have to learn to swim, and stat.”

  “Over there,” Mrs. E said. “It looks like the water is coming from that tunnel.”

  It was the tunnel they’d been led through by Victoria, the one that had been obscured by the curtain. They trudged toward it.

  “Why did your father hide this tunnel behind the curtain?” Ben asked.

  “He only meant to make it more difficult to find the interrogation room,” she answered. Ben sensed a hint of regret in her voice. “You all weren’t the first he used it on.”

  Ben nodded. “Besides connecting this side of the top level with the stairs on the other end, does it go anywhere?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

  “It’s graded,” Reggie said. “The water’s coming this way because it’s slightly downhill from the origin point.”

  As he spoke, the water in the tunnel reached Ben’s knees. It was beginning to froth and foam up, miniature whitewater rapids around their legs.

  “Let’s get up there,” Ben said. “We don’t have a better option. The lower levels will be even more flooded than this one.”

  No one spoke as they sloshed forward. Ben waited for the four villagers to hike past, taking up a point at the back of the line, just in case someone slipped. He wasn’t about to let anyone else die on his watch.

  The three men and one woman from the group of villagers were surprisingly strong as a group. Their feet were solid on the stone floor, though it was growing more slippery by the second. They held hands and pulled each other along, one step at a time.

  By the time the water was at Ben’s waist, they’d reached the end of the narrow shaft. He could barely see the source of the water in the dying light. It spilled out from a small, rectangular slit in the ceiling, one that disappeared upward into the rock.

  “Have you seen this before?” Ben yelled. The water was crashing out of the hole with a fury, and he knew they had only minutes before it would completely consume this shaft.

  “No,” she said. “But I wasn’t privy to much of it. He only showed me a few of the main rooms before he…”

  Before he took over her mind, Ben thought, finishing the sentence for her. Before he took his own daughter’s mind and turned it into his slave.

  Ben turned to the rest of the group and shouted over the din of the pouring water. “Best guess, we’ve got a minute before this whole place is an underwater tomb. That means we can’t head back the way we came — it’s already underwater.

  “And we have nowhere else to go, unless it’s up.”

  “But that means —”

  “That means we have to wait until the water’s done pouring into this shaft, then swim up into it.”

  “And we’ll be holding our breaths the whole time.”

  Ben nodded. “And we’ll have to hold our breath.”

  One of the Peruvian men in their group spoke to Victoria. She tuned to Ben. “How do we know there’s open air up there?”

  Ben looked around, just as the water level rose to his shoulders. The current had slowed, so he found it relatively easy to keep his balance. The Peruvian woman, a whole head shorter than Ben, was treading water and holding onto the shoulders of the man next to her.

  “Guys — we don’t. We don’t know anything. We’re just hoping now, that’s all. This little ventilation shaft — whatever it is — might be our only way out.”

  He paused, looked around his team and the villagers they’d picked up along the way, wondering if this would be the last time he saw them.

  “Or it might be the end.”

  75

  Ben

  The water had reached Ben’s eyes. The Peruvian men and woman were treading water, their lips pursed and pointed upward as their heads barely breached the surface. Julie was treading water as well, but Reggie and Mrs. E were still able to touch the ground.

  “Julie, you go first with two of the villagers,” Ben shouted. “Then Mrs. E and the other two. You two are their lifelines — got it?”

  Julie and Mrs. E nodded. “Keep them in front of you, and push them if you need to. Remember, Reggie and I are last, so we’ll be holding our breaths the longest.”

  Julie swam over to Ben.

  “Ben,” she said, softly, speaking into his ear so the others couldn’t hear. “Let me go last. I can hold my breath —”

  “No.”

  He didn’t argue, he didn’t even look at her.

  “Ben…”

  He grabbed her hand underwater, pulling her closer. “I love you, Jules. I’m not arguing. Get these people out, and wait for me.”

  She nodded. It looked like there was a tear falling down her face, but their faces were all covered with splashes of water.

  “Thirty seconds!” Reggie yelled. Victoria translated, asked the villagers if they needed any other instructions. They shook their heads.

  Suddenly the water was at the ceiling. Ben pushed his lungs free, expelling all the air from them, then sucked in the deepest breath he was able. Next to him Julie and Reggie did the same.

  Before he’d even pulled his head completely underwater Mrs. E was pushing forward, nearly throwing the first two villagers into the rectangular ventilation shaft. She violently kicked and shoved the three of them up against the slowing current.

  In a few seconds she was gone, and Julie was in her place, working the two remaining villagers into position. She swam with them, having an easier time of it as the water had finally stopped pushing against them and these two villagers were capable of pulling themselves along.

  And then Reggie went.

  Ben’s breath was still in his lungs, but it was beginning to poison him. He felt the burning sting of the air souring, his body beginning to fight back against it, willing him to open his mouth, and then —

  It was his turn.

  Reggie’s feet were in his face, but Ben wasn’t about to wait another second. He kicked with everything he had, using energy that meant it was directly working against his ability to hold his breath. He pulled with his arms, the rectangular slit not wide enough for him to move forward with his arms fully extended, while continuing to kick with his legs.

  He made progress, but it was too slow.

  His lungs were about to burst, the involuntary desire to breathe growing as strong as his voluntary ability to prevent it. It was a balancing act, but it was one he would eventually lose. The human body was incapable of preventing its most basic needs, and breathing ranked high on the list of things that were required.

  There was no light.

  The darkness of the shaft penetrated his soul, and the water consuming him caused him to feel as though he were weightless, lying at a diagonal in the center of a black hole. He focused on the walls, focused on the smooth, hand-cut stone blocks, the gaps between them nearly unnoticeable.

  But it still wasn’t enough.

  The darkness deepened somehow, his throat and mind constricting, and he knew he wouldn’t make it.

  He reached forward, knowing that if he could just feel Reggie’s boot, grab his friends ankle for just a moment, it would be enough. He would find a bit more strength and stamina there.

  But there was no boot. There was no ankle to grab hold of; Reggie was gone.

  76

  Ben

  Ben was alone now, floating in his black hole, fighting the slip into unconsciousness.

  He’d read somewhere that death by drowning was one of the better ways to go — your mind experiences a state of euphoria, of an elated sense of self. The problem was that he’d also read that the moments before death — the period during which the body tries desperately to stay alive — is severely uncomfortable. The body sucks in gasps of water, screams as it realizes there is no air with which it can breathe, and then struggles in vain to get to the surface.

  Ben was experiencing this now. Bubbles escaped the corners of his mouth, his lips barely strong enough to keep in the last of the life-giving air. He also knew that life-giving air was now mostly carbon dioxide, and it was this that his body was trying to expel.

  He flailed, feeling the helplessness and terror set in.

  I’m not going to make it.

  Ben fought, hard, against the darkness, but he no longer knew which way was up. The walls seemed to disappear, taunting him as he strained to reach them.

  He let out another burst of carbon dioxide. The bubbles tickled his face, his nose. He wanted to scream, and so he did.

  The last gasp of air left his mouth and was immediately replaced by water. Cold, sweet death. It fell into him, covering his throat and his lungs and his mind. Water everywhere, and yet he continued screaming and struggling and fighting until…

  Everything stopped.

  Everything fell silent.

  His mind felt the elation. The true euphoria of near-death setting in. He saw lights — gold, silver, greens and blues — dancing across his vision. Were his eyes even open?

  He remembered something, something that seemed distant now. Swim toward the light, he thought. Was that just a saying? Something he should actually do?

  He decided not to. Everything was perfect in here, everything calm and still and perfect. He liked it. This was true bliss, and yet he knew the end had come. Was this, then, a transition? Something that would lead to something else? Or was this it?

  Was this all it was at the end?

  He didn’t know. Didn’t care. His mind was racing along, but it was no longer his own. He was in control of nothing, and finally, he didn’t care.

  He let himself be pulled along by death, allowed himself the sweet satisfaction on not having to worry anymore — about anything.

  Ben smiled. Or thought he did. He didn’t know, nor did he care. This is it, he thought. My final thought. And my final wish.

  No. There was more. He was still in the black hole, in the tunnel of lights, but now there was something else. Julie. He felt her lips, felt her caress.

  My wife. He was dreaming of her, reaching out to her.

  Julie. He wanted to say her name. He wanted to grab her hand, to pull her in close and kiss her back, but he couldn’t do a thing.

  Death had set in, and he was now merely a spectator to his own end. To whatever transition there was. He believed there was something else, something more, but he had the realization that if there were something else, it was taking a long time to get here.

  He felt himself swallow, then — something lunged out of him and some of the lights disappeared. The blues and greens were gone, the golds and silvers still there. The darkness still covered all of it.

  He thought he could feel his body again, a gentle tingling sensation as it moved and shook. He felt Julie’s lips, soft and warm, a real feeling.

  They were gone, and then they returned once again.

  Julie.

  He tried saying it aloud. Forced everything he had to form the words.

  “Julie.”

  It was a whisper, but he knew he’d heard it. Sound. It had been real.

  “Julie — lips.”

  And then his eyes opened. There was gold, and silver, the lights he’d seen. Blues and greens shifted into the form of humans and water and whatever sat behind them.

  And there, right in front of his face, were lips.

  He felt something pushing against him, against his chest and lungs. He could breathe, but it hurt.

  He blinked, allowing the lips to come into focus.

  They belonged to Reggie.

  He was laying on his back on the stone floor, the water seeping out of him and around him. He was cold. Reggie smiled back down at him as he stopped compressing his chest.

  “Man,” Reggie said. “I knew you had a thing for me.”

  77

  Julie

  Julie was crying, but also trying to watch Reggie work. It was a constant battle between wiping away tears and trying to stop shaking. Victoria was holding her, and the four villagers were standing behind them. The woman had her hands on Julie’s shoulders.

  Mrs. E, for her part, was kneeling next to Reggie, ready to take over the CPR as soon as Reggie needed a break. Julie couldn’t see clearly through her own tears, but it seemed as though the other two members of her group — the closest friends she had in the world — were also struggling to keep it together.

  And then, with a sputtering splash of water that began inside Ben’s mouth and ended on Reggie’s face, Ben came back to life.

  “Julie — lips.”

  “I knew you always had a thing for me,” Reggie said, wiping his face with a sleeve.

  She smiled.

  Reggie laughed, then spoke quietly to Ben. She moved over to her husband and kissed him, but Reggie gently pulled her back.

  “You might want to stand back, Jules,” he said. “There’s usually another —”

  On cue, Ben rolled to his side and coughed out another bucketful of water, mixed with vomit and spit and bile. It splashed her knees, but she didn’t move. She went back in for another kiss.

  “Ben,” she said. “I love you. I love you. I thought —”

  “I was — I was dead,” Ben said.

  “Yeah, because you’re an idiot,” Reggie said. “You were three inches from the surface, but you kept sinking back under. I had to stick my whole upper body into the hole to grab you, or you would’ve sunk back to the other shaft.”

  “Th — thanks, man.”

  “Eh, don’t worry about.” He held up his right arm. “You’d better hope this thing is waterproof, though. Or it’s gonna cost you another one.”

 

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