Instinct: A Chess Team Adventure - By Jeremy Robinson Page 0,65

and skull. It fell at the feet of the first.

A scraping sound slid from the tunnel. Then it stopped. Hoots, different than before, boomed from the tunnel, but these were less aggressive.

“They’re running away,” Rook said. He stepped over the two dead bodies and aimed up into the dark tunnel. He fired his remaining four rounds. Sparks flew as the bullets bounced off the walls, moving up the tunnel. Then Rook heard the sound he was hoping for. A grunt of pain followed by sliding. Wet sliding.

The third creature fell from the tunnel moments later, its back and left leg shredded by Rook’s bullets.

Rook pushed it over with his boot, looking into its dead eyes.

A distant roar stopped Rook in his tracks. They’d killed three and sent the rest packing. But these things were smart. They’d be back. Probably with reinforcements. He slapped a new cartridge into his Desert Eagle and handed two more to Bishop. “I’ve got two more for myself, but that’s it.”

Bishop nodded and pocketed the cartridges.

Somi spoke, but neither man understood the language. They turned around and found her standing, leaning against what appeared to be a stone statue.

“What’d you say?” Rook asked.

Somi looked back, her eyes wide. “I said, ‘good God.’ ” She turned away from them again. “Look.”

Throughout the action at the base of the tunnel neither Rook nor Bishop had taken in their surroundings or wondered much about the green glow that allowed them to see. The penlight fell from Rook’s mouth as he took in the vast grotto.

Seventy feet across, twenty feet tall, and hundreds of feet long, the chamber was immense, but that was its least impressive aspect. Lining the walls and forming structures throughout, like a city, were layers of bones—glowing green. The crumbled statue supporting Somi’s weight represented one of a few nonbone structures in the subterranean cavern. The rest looked like a scene from Dante’s Inferno, a metropolis built from the dead.

Rook moved slowly toward the nearest structure. He focused his attention on a skull, noting its size, structure, and teeth. “It’s not human.” He looked back to the others and motioned to the dead creatures. “I think it’s one of them. Or something like it, at least. The canines are smaller.”

Reaching out, Rook slid his finger across the forehead of the skull. Its cool surface was coated with a thin layer of what felt like damp dust. The line he traced with his finger ceased glowing, like a scar across the skull’s forehead. His finger came up glowing like the rest of the bones.

“Fungus,” Knight said. “Bioluminescent.” He hopped toward the entrance of a nearby structure and peeked inside. Two steps, built from rows of skulls, led to a five-foot door frame. The dark interior was also entirely constructed from rended skeletons and some kind of mortar. Built into the walls were what looked like long benches with femur tops, almost the size of twin beds. Knight eyed the flat space longingly as his body pulsed with pain. He sat on the top step, leaning his head against the skull-lined doorframe.

“Think it’s dangerous?” Rook asked.

“Probably not,” Knight said. “But I wouldn’t eat it.”

Rook wiped his finger off on his flak jacket, smearing the green glow all over his chest. He shook his head in frustration. This place was more like an alien world than the underside of a mountain in Vietnam.

“It’s a catacomb,” Bishop said. He’d crawled on top of the stone base Somi still leaned on and had a view of the entire emerald chamber. “Generations of their dead must be buried here.”

“Catacombs . . . ,” Rook said. “Like in Rome?”

Bishop nodded.

“But that would make them . . .”

“Civilized,” Somi finished. “And intelligent.”

She reached out for Rook and held on to his arm for support. As he braced her weight against his body a pang of guilt surged through her. She had betrayed this man, who now shared her weight. Worse, she knew they would probably die to save her. She pushed her conscience away, choosing to focus on the dilemma at hand. “But not now . . .”

“Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass,” Rook said. “I say we jump ship now.”

“Running blind might not be the best idea,” Somi said. “Understanding them might help us—”

“Knowing is half the battle. I get it. That doesn’t change the fact that we’re being hunted.”

“But look,” Somi said, pointing out the green skull’s canine teeth. “These are small. Almost human in size.” Somi pointed at the three