James Rollins - Deep Fathom

Karen took it, and the women clung to one another. The wall of flames blocked escape, and the air grew smokier with each breath.

“I’m sorry,” Karen mumbled.

“Could there be another way out?” Miyuki asked. “A secret passage.”

Karen bit her lower lip, straining to think past her panic. “I don’t know. If there was, it would probably be near the altar.” Her eyes were again drawn to the altar’s snake carving. Something had been bothering her about it, nagging for her attention. Her gaze caught again on the snake’s ruby eyes. With her free hand, Karen touched the stone carving. Then she saw it, reflected in the firelight — a defect. One of the ruby eyes shone much brighter than the other. It was almost as if a hollow space lay behind it. Using a finger, she pressed against the faceted eye.

“What are you doing?” Miyuki asked.

The jewel pushed back into the snake’s skull, she heard a sharp click , then felt the snake’s head loosen in her grip. “It’s a lock release!” She could now swing the figure’s head back and forth. But nothing happened. What was its purpose?

The smoke, meanwhile, settled thicker in the chamber. Near the tunnel, the flames receded, the kerosene almost spent. Karen rubbed her sore eyes. Outside, she heard the attackers stir. Since their initial volley had failed to smoke them out, what might they do next?

The answer came quickly. A flaming glass bottle flew into the room and exploded against the front of the altar. A wave of fire burst up.

Karen fell backward, and Miyuki ducked farther behind the altar with a startled squawk.

“Goddamn them!” Karen swore. Ignoring the flames, she moved back to the altar. The secret release suggested the carving was more than decoration. Could there be a hidden passage? The heat burned Karen’s cheeks as she studied the stone snake. The serpent curled fully around the edge of the altar, its tail not far from its raised head. A thought occurred to her. The worm Ourbourus. The snake biting its own tail. A symbol of the infinite. Many cultures had similar mythic images. It was even in Mayan astrology.

Beyond the tunnel, Karen heard the men’s voices grow heated, argumentative, impatient. Then a bullet blasted into the chamber, ricocheting in a shower of stone shards. Ducking, Karen shoved the sculpture’s head all the way around until the tip of the serpent’s snout touched its own tail.

A loud grinding sounded under her toes, and Karen tensed.

“What’s happening?” Miyuki whispered, waving the smoke away.

Karen backed up as the altar stone lowered, dropping into the slab floor. “C’mon!” Karen took the penlight from a pocket and flashed a long beam into the inky darkness. The altar had fallen down about two meters.

She sensed that a larger chamber lay below, and leaned closer, trying to get a better look. A bullet whizzed past her left ear. She felt the heat of its passage as she dropped to her belly. “There’s no other way out of here,” she said, glancing at her friend.

Miyuki’s eyes were huge, but she gave a quick nod.

Karen popped the penlight in her mouth. “I’ll go first,” she mumbled. Swinging her legs into the pit, she probed with her toes. No footholds. With a glance below, she aimed for the top of the lowered altar and pushed off. Her feet hit hard, dropping her to one hand.

She flashed her light around the chamber. Pools of dank water dotted the floor. Pale ropes of algae hung from the roof. On the far side, a dark tunnel led away. She stood and shifted her light for a better look. No, not a tunnel — a stairway . It descended at a steep angle. Wherever it led, it was better than here.

A second shot blasted overhead, quickly followed by another.

Miyuki squeaked, laying flat.

Straightening, Karen called up. “Toss my gun and holster.”

Miyuki’s face disappeared for a moment. “Here!” She dropped the leather holster strap. The gun followed a second later. Karen caught it in one hand.

“Now you!” Karen urged.

“Not yet.” Miyuki disappeared again.

What was she doing?

Miyuki’s legs reappeared. Karen reached up and guided her friend’s ankles. “Okay. You’re clear.”

Miyuki let go, landing almost on top of Karen, who held her friend steady. “Good job.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Miyuki muttered, clutching her satchel of equipment tight to her chest. She caught Karen’s glance. “I wasn’t leaving Gabriel behind.”

Karen grinned, despite the situation. She bent and collected her pistol. It seemed each of them had their own security blanket. Holstering the gun, she tossed the strap over her shoulder. “C’mon.”

She hopped off the altar, and Miyuki followed. As soon as the petite woman left the stone table, they heard gears grinding overhead. The altar stone and its platform thrust back up, rose on a basalt pillar and jammed back into place.

“Pressure sensitive,” Karen said with awe at the keen counterbalance system. It astounded her that the mechanism functioned after being immersed for centuries in the salty sea.

Gloom settled over them. Distantly, the drip of water echoed up from the neighboring stairwell. Miyuki took a flashlight from her bag, clicked it on and shone it forward. She wore a determined expression. “You go first.”

Karen nodded, and led the way. The stair was narrow, but the ceiling high enough to walk upright. Within the passage, the echoing drip of water grew louder. Karen splayed out her light, ran a finger along the damp wall. “The stone blocks are fitted perfectly. I can barely feel the seams.”

Miyuki made a noncommittal noise. She kept glancing back over her shoulder as they moved slowly down the stairs. “Do you think they’ll follow?”

Karen directed her light forward again. “I…I don’t know. But if they do, let’s be as far away from here as possible.”

Miyuki was silent for several steps. Her breathing, though, was strained and tight. She finally asked the question uppermost in Karen’s mind. “Where do you think this leads?”

“I’d guess some royal burial chamber. But I’m not sure. This passage is pretty steep. We must be close to the base of the pyramid by now.”

Proving her theory true, the stairs ended at a tunnel. The next passage led in a straight line away from there. A long way. Karen’s light failed to find an end. She assumed the tunnel led beyond the pyramid itself.

Frowning, she moved down to the last step. Ahead, the tunnel lay partially flooded. At least a foot of water covered the floor. Within the beam of her light, Karen watched trickles of water drip and flow from cracks in the ceiling. “We must be underneath the pyramid…underneath the sea itself,” she muttered. “Look at the walls here. They’re not carved stone blocks, but solid rock. It must have taken decades to tunnel out this passage.”

Miyuki leaned beside her. “Maybe not. It might just be a lava tube. Japan is riddled with them.”

“Hmm…maybe.”

Miyuki stared over at the dripping water. “I don’t know about this. Can’t we just wait—”

A ringing sound cut her off, echoing down the stairs to them. Metal on rock. The two women’s eyes met.

“They’re trying to dig themselves inside,” Karen said.

Miyuki pushed Karen toward the watery passage. “Get going!”

Karen splashed into the water and gasped as the cold clamped around her ankles. The tang of salt was sharp in the stagnant air. Miyuki followed, holding her equipment bag tight. They continued down the long tunnel, their splashes echoing up and down the passage. The noise made them both edgy.

Karen ran her fingers along the wall here, too. It was still smooth, almost glassy. Too smooth to have been carved by crude tools. It seemed a natural passage, as Miyuki had suggested. She tapped the wall with a knuckle.