“Nice job.”
They continued on in the darkness. There was such a regularity to the passageway that Maddock found himself wondering if they were moving forward at all. Finally, the way began to open up. The tunnel grew wider and taller until they could walk hunched over and then, finally, stand up straight.
“Holy crap, that sucked.” Bones turned to Dima. “Hey, are you any good at deep tissue massage?”
“I am, but don’t count on getting one for me. I don’t know you that well. At least, not yet.” She grimaced and stretched. “I guess we have a decision to make.”
“What do you mean?” Maddock asked.
Dima pointed down the passageway. About twenty meters up ahead, another lava tube intersected the one in which they walked. “Left, right, or straight ahead?”
“Let’s check it out.” Maddock strode quickly down the passageway, invigorated by the open space and the chance to actually walk upright on two legs. When he reached the intersection he stopped and shone his light down each tunnel in turn.
“What do you see?” Bones asked.
“There’s a lot of rubble in the tunnel to the left,” he said. “Makes me think the ceiling is unstable. The one to the right,” he turned and shone his light in that direction, “narrows pretty quickly. I say we go straight ahead.”
“You’re the boss. How about you take the lead for a while? Give me the gun and I’ll bring up the rear.”
“You just want to do some shooting,” he said, handing the Glock to Bones.
“You bet I do, and if you don’t hurry, I’ll be forced to start with you. Let’s move.”
Maddock chuckled, turned, and moved on ahead. The tiny, narrow beam of his Maglite danced off the shiny surface of the lava tube. There was no more ice here, only black rock, and as they walked, the air grew warmer and drier.
“I wonder where we’re headed,” Dima said.
“Worst case, into the heart of a volcano,” Bones replied. “I hope you brought the marshmallows.”
“I can’t decide if you are funny or annoying.”
“Join the club,” Maddock said. “I’ve felt the same way for as long as I’ve known him.”
“Haters,” Bones said. “You just…” He paused. “Hold on a second. Everybody quiet down.”
Maddock stopped and turned. Bones stood, lips pursed, eyes narrowed, head cocked to the side, listening intently.
“Someone’s coming,” he whispered.
“I don’t hear anything,” Dima said.
“That’s because you don’t know what to listen for. We need to get a move on.” Bones put a big hand on the small of Dima’s back and gave her a gentle push to get her moving.
Maddock didn’t ask how Bones knew what was coming. His friend had sharp ears and good instincts in situations like these. He set a faster pace, a slow jog which he knew he and Bones could keep up with ease for a long time. “Let me know if you need to rest,” he said softly to Dima.
“I ran a 10K two weeks ago. I think I’m good.”
At this, Maddock picked up the pace a little more. He kept his eyes glued to the floor in front of them, not wanting to risk tripping or stepping into a crack. A twisted ankle could spell doom for all of them.
After an hour of steady running, Maddock called a halt. They were all breathing heavily, but no one was yet spent. That was good.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Dima huffed. “I can go on, especially since there are armed men behind us.”
“I like this girl. We should keep her around.” Bones winked at her and she made a face that wasn’t quite a frown.
“I wonder if we put much distance between us and them,” Dima said.
As if in reply, a distant voice sounded in the darkness. And then another.
“You have got to be freaking kidding me.” Bones turned and raised the Glock. “I almost wish they’d catch up.”
“Let’s go.” Maddock took off, this time at a run. His light bounced up and down in front of him, revealing the unrelenting black rock and darkness up ahead. His legs soon began to burn and his chest tightened from exertion. Just as he was contemplating calling a halt so they could turn and fight, his eyes fell upon an unexpected sight.
“Handholds! Look.” He stopped and Bones and Dima skidded to a halt behind him. There was no mistaking it. Someone had carved a series of hand and footholds in the rock. He played his beam up the wall and saw that, about five meters above their heads, a section of the ceiling had given way and the handholds led through the small opening and into the darkness above. With no time to waste, he stuck his Maglite in his mouth, clamping down with his front teeth, and began to climb. With any luck, they would be out of here long before their pursuers reached this spot. And if the men who followed them didn’t have sharp eyes, they just might continue on down the passageway, not knowing where Maddock and his friends had gone.
The climb would have been easier had he not been running for a couple of hours, but at least he had plenty of strength remaining in his shoulders and arms. He clambered up the steep face and out of the lava tube. Here, the stone was dark red in color and he realized they were now climbing through a natural fissure in the native rock.
He quickly reached the top and climbed out onto a rock strewn-ledge. He clambered over the rubble, turned, and waited for Dima to catch up. He helped her over and then offered Bones a hand, which was ignored.
“Just keep moving,” Bones grunted.
There wasn’t far to move. Ten paces ahead they hit a wall.
“So I guess we sit here and Bones shoots people as they climb up?” Dima asked.
“I don’t think so. Someone carved those handholds, which means they must lead somewhere, or they did at one time. Look around.”
They began a thorough inspection of the wall. Minutes later, Dima found something.
“Look at this. I think it’s a dove.”
Maddock and Bones shone their lights on the spot she indicated. The image was faint, as if someone had hurriedly scratched it, but the shape was unmistakable.
“What does it mean?” Bones asked.
“The dove is a symbol associated with the Noah story,” she said.
Maddock nodded. “It could be our frozen monk scratched the symbol here so he could find his way out again. But how to actually get out?” He looked closer and noticed that the tiny oval that marked the eye of the dove was not scratched out like the rest of the image, but was in fact a small indentation in the stone.
He pressed his finger against it.
Nothing.
He pressed harder, and with an audible click, a meter wide section of wall descended into the bedrock.
“No way,” Dima breathed. “I thought this sort of thing only happens in movies.”
“If only.” Maddock stepped over the descending wall and took a few steps. Up ahead, bars blocked their way.
“What is this? Where are we?” Dima asked.
“It looks like a dungeon,” Maddock said. They were in a small cell hewn from the bedrock. Off to one side, a stone bench ran along the wall. There were no windows, only three stone walls, and floor to ceiling iron bars where the fourth wall should be.
“I think I know where we are,” Dima said, looking around. “This is the Pasha Palace.”
“Maddock, I think we have a problem,” Bones said. “The trapdoor isn’t going back up and I think I hear the bad guys coming.”
“Are we stuck?” Dima asked.
“I don’t think so.” Maddock reached for the cell door and pushed. It squealed open, assaulting his ears with the sound of rusted metal on metal. “It’s not like they use this place for prisoners anymore, and they wouldn’t want a tourist locking himself in. Come on out.”
When Bones and Dima had exited the cell, Maddock knelt, pried up a floor tile, and shoved it into the small space beneath the cell door. He gave it a few kicks to wedge it in firmly, and grinned.