Clive Cussler - Lost Empire

“Waves,” he whispered.

He pulled back, dug into his pocket, found his penlight. He clicked it but nothing happened. “Come on . . .” He unscrewed the bottom and dumped the batteries on the ground and used his shirt to dry each one in turn. He reassembled the flashlight and clicked the button. He was rewarded with a bright beam.

He stuck his head back into the opening and shined the light around. A three-foot-wide, smooth-walled shaft descended diagonally into the slope. At the edge of Sam’s flashlight beam the tunnel curved right into darkness.“Fargo!” Sam pulled his head out. “Here!”

“Twenty-five minutes left.”

He had a decision to make. With no idea where this tunnel led and without proper gear, he could easily find himself beyond earshot of Rivera or, worse still, he would hear Rivera’s check-in call but be unable to answer it within the allotted ten seconds. He had no doubt that either of these circumstances would lead to Remi being shot again.“He’s going to kill us anyway,” Sam said to himself. “Roll the dice.”

Feet first, Sam wriggled into the opening and started downward.

HE HADN’T GOTTEN ten feet when Rivera shouted: “Fargo!”

Sam scrambled back up the chute and stuck his head into the light. “Here!” He checked his watch: nineteen minutes.

He backed into the chute and let himself slide, braking with his toes and palms until he reached the bend, where he had to curl his body to navigate the angle. The chute steepened, continued for ten feet, then suddenly widened out. Sam felt his legs dangling free. He clawed at the walls, trying to arrest his slide, but gravity took over. He slipped from the chute and started falling. CHAPTER 49

HIS PLUNGE LASTED LESS THAN A SECOND.

He landed feetfirst in a pile of something soft, rolled backward in a reverse somersault, and came to rest on his knees. His flashlight lay a few feet away. He crawled over, grabbed it, and cast the beam about.

The pile into which he’d fallen was almost pure white. His first thought was sand, but then he smelled it: the distinctive tang of salt. The rush of the waves echoed around him, bouncing off the walls, fading and multiplying as though he were caught inside a fun-house auditorium.Sam checked his watch: sixteen minutes.

He looked up. The chute from which he’d fallen was ten feet above his head. He turned around, panned his flashlight. The wall nearest to him sparkled as though encrusted in tiny mirrors. He stepped up to it. “Salt,” he murmured.

Beneath the faceted white veneer he could make out a darker streak. It was green-translucent green. The stripe rose up the wall, widened into a foot-thick band, then turned again, forking into dozens more veins. The branching continued until it was a giant latticework beneath the white salt veneer.

The cavern itself was roughly oval and no wider than forty feet in diameter. Eyes fixed on the ceiling, he started across the cavern. He felt a jet of air blow up his leg. He stopped and crouched down.

The four-foot-wide hole in the floor was perfectly disguised by a crust of salt, punctuated by pencil holes through which the air was being forced. Sam stood up, looked around. Now knowing what to look for, he could see dozens of holes within the beam of his flashlight.

He reached the center of the cavern. Spaced at regular intervals around him were what looked like salt-encrusted stalagmites, each one approximately five feet high. There were seven of them. These were ceremonial cairns, he realized. Each cairn a metaphor, perhaps.“The Place of the Seven Caves,” Sam murmured. “Chicomoztoc.”

Careful of his footing, he strode over to the nearest cairn, knelt down, and pressed the head of his flashlight against the surface. Beneath the crystallized salt he saw a dull green glow. He used the butt of the flashlight to lightly hammer the surface. On the third blow, a scab of salt fell away, followed by a Ping-Pong-ball-sized rock. He picked it up. It was a translucent green, the same as the maleo statuette. The stone absorbed the beam of his flashlight, swirling the light until the interior seemed to glow and sparkle of its own accord. Sam pocketed the stone.“. . . argo!” Rivera’s faint voice called.

“Damn!” Sam muttered. He whirled around, casting his light wildly about. He needed a plan. He needed something . . . His beam fell on the salt pile. The kernel of an idea formed. It was sketchy at best, but it was all he had.

Dodging holes, he sprinted back to the salt pile. He grabbed a handful of it and stuffed it into his pocket. He scanned the flashlight along the wall beside him. It curved to the right. He followed it. The floor sloped down, then up, then left. The hiss of waves faded behind him. To the right he glimpsed a faint light source. He ran toward it. The walls closed in, and the ceiling descended until he was running hunched over.He stumbled through a wall of foliage and fell forward.

“. . . argo!”

Sam rolled onto his back, caught his breath. “Here!”

“Eleven minutes.”

Sam lay still for thirty seconds, picking at his plan until satisfied it could work. But, then again, could was a far cry from would. He had no choice, no other options, and virtually no more time.He picked his way to the bottom of the bowl, then made his way back to the clearing. “I found something.”

“Are you lying to me?” Rivera replied.

“No.”

Rivera stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Give me a minute.”

Sam walked over to Remi and sat down beside her. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Hi.”

“Hi. Does it hurt?”

“No. It’s dull throbbing. I’ve been counting my heartbeats to pass the time.”

Sam chuckled. “Never bored, are you?”

“Never.”

“I found something. I’m taking Rivera there now.”

“Is it-”

“I think so. I think we found it.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m going to take him in there,” he whispered. “With any luck, I’ll be coming out alone.” “Then I’ll see you when you get back.”

Sam stood up and turned to Rivera. “Ready.”

“Lead the way.”

SAM TOOK RIVERA to the exit, then handed him the flashlight and stood to one side as Rivera ducked his head into the entrance. Rivera tossed the flashlight back to Sam.

“What’s in there?”

“I didn’t go far.”

Rivera paused. Sam knew he was debating whether the Fargos had suddenly become extra baggage.

“But as far as I went, I got lost three times. In one of the side tunnels there’s a drop-off; beyond that, I saw something on the wall. A symbol of some kind.”

This did the trick. Rivera gestured for Sam to enter the tunnel. He stepped inside and hunch-walked until the walls and ceiling widened out. Rivera was a few steps behind.

“Which way?”

Sam feigned confusion for a few seconds, then headed right and followed the sloped floor’s dips and rises and turns until finally they emerged into the salt cavern.

“Are those waves?” Rivera asked, looking around.

“I think so. There’s probably a maze of sea caves down there.”

“And the walls? Crystallized salt?”

“Sea salt, blown up from the caves. Do you see the dark streaks?” Sam pointed the flashlight at the nearest wall. “Take a look.”

His gun fixed on Sam’s chest, Rivera sidestepped to the wall.

Sam said, “It’s some kind of mineral deposit. Emerald or jade.”

Nodding absently, Rivera followed the veins with his eyes as they spiraled up the wall and across the ceiling. “Where’s this side tunnel?”

Careful to keep the beam off the floor, Sam shined the flashlight across the cavern. He held his breath, half expecting Rivera to notice the cairns and their arrangement, but he didn’t.“Go on.”