pull you out. Got it?” Morgan asks.
“Yes, sir.”
I grab the rope and step into nothing. Dangling, I hold onto the rope with my left hand while clutching the emitter. They lower me down. The sandstone walls of the shaft surround me. As I go deeper they squeeze in tighter. The certainty that I’m going to get stuck gnaws on me. And there’s not…enough air… I…can’t…breathe…I’m…
“Status, Lawrence,” Morgan barks in my ear, startling me out of my panic attack.
“Good,” I reply and even manage to sound convincing.
Breathe. You’re not claustrophobic. You’re not claustrophobic, I repeat over and over. When I drop out of the shaft and into the open, I relax. The cool air is light and refreshing. Soon my boots hit the floor.
“Touchdown,” I say. But I don’t unhook my harness. Instead, I pry my fingers off the rope and draw my flashlight. I shine it around the room. There is a row of tall boxy alien machinery along one smooth wall. However, the shadows are normal. “Clear.”
Now I detach from the rope. And I attach my flashlight to the top of the emitter’s barrel. Velcro is a wonderful thing and in the five hundred plus years since its invention, no one has designed anything better. I check the adjoining rooms and then follow Dad’s directions on how to find the large cavern with the Warrior hearts.
Sand crunches under my boots as I traverse the corridors. Otherwise it’s silent. After a short walk, I enter the main factory. Warriors lie prone on hundreds of tables throughout the space as if they’re waiting for surgery. Even though I’ve been here a couple times before, it’s still creepy. Along the back wall are more tables, but this time they are filled with Warrior hearts. I shine the beam over them. The silver alien symbols engraved on them gleam, but the black porous material drinks in the light.
They’re the same shape and size as a human heart. And now to test if what I witnessed the last time I was here actually happened or was due to panic because all the lights went out, I switch off the flashlight. The blackness is instant. Then I blink and a row of ghost Warriors appear. They’re identical to the Terracotta Warriors, standing tall and staring straight ahead. Except they’re white and a bit translucent. Nice to know I didn’t imagine them.
“It’s a go,” I say. Toggling on my flashlight, I wait for the others to join me.
It doesn’t take long for Morgan, Elese, Beau, Zaim, Ho, and Rance to arrive. Bendix stayed on the surface in case that’s our only way out. The team peers into the shadows with anxious expressions.
“No HoLFs down here,” I say, but don’t add it’s peaceful because they already suspect I’m crazy. No need to confirm.
“What do we do?” Morgan asks.
She and the others are lined up by the table.
“It’s easy. Just pick one up. It’s going to crumble in your hands, but there’s no way to avoid it.”
“Anything else we should expect?” Beau asks.
“Yes, it’s gonna feel like your hand’s been stabbed by an icicle, but it doesn’t last long.”
“Wonderful,” he mutters.
Everyone hesitates as if no one wants to be first. Then Morgan huffs and grabs a heart. As expected, it disintegrates, raining fragments. She wrinkles her nose, but doesn’t remark on the pain.
Beau shrugs and picks one up. Or he tries; it’s dust by the time he lifts his hand. “Ow, that sucker stings.” He wipes his palm on his leg.
The rest follow. Four more hearts are destroyed—sorry, Mom. No one else comments on the pain. Rance and Elese rub their arms as if their muscles ache.
“How do we know it worked?” Morgan asks me.
“Everyone turn off your flashlights,” I say.
They do. Elese curses in surprise. Zaim and Beau reach for their emitters.
“Can you all see the ghosts?” I ask.
“Hell, yeah,” Rance says. “And to think we made fun of you about them.”
Nice.
“And we really didn’t believe you, either,” Zaim says. “Sorry, Ara.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Rance and Ho echo.
I glance at Elese and Beau.
“Don’t look at us, we believed you,” Elese says, giving the others her hard stare.
“The real test will be if we can see the HoLFs,” Morgan says. “Flashlights back on for now. Rance, get the floodlights ready.”
“Yes, sir.”
Since we only have six emitters, Rance is in charge of the floodlights. With Morgan in the lead, we creep over to the hatch. I’m surprised the ladder is still there, although I don’t know why. Icy air pours