I studied the furniture. There were two piles of it, one in front of the other. Each pile was carefully balanced and gathered in a tight space.
I pointed my beam at the smooth rock floor. It looked clean. There was no garbage or debris. However, I noticed something else. "The ground is marked up. They didn't even bother to carry the furniture. They just dragged it."
"Maybe they went stir crazy." Graham added his beam to mine. "I'd lose my mind too if I had to live here."
Numbness came over me as I strode to the furniture. I took off my glove and weaved my hand between some chairs and a cabinet. My fingers touched metal. Oddly enough, it felt slightly warmer than the rest of the room. "There's definitely a door back here."
"So, they barricaded their own door?"
"It sure looks that way."
He gave me a look of disbelief. "And you want to open it?"
"I don't think we have a choice."
Chapter 82
The sound of gunfire swept over the grotto. I ducked my head and scrambled toward the furniture pile.
Graham grabbed a chair and tossed it to one side of the room. I grabbed a second chair and hurled it in the opposite direction. For the next two minutes, we attacked the pile. Slowly, the outer layer began to thin. We cleared the rest of it away and then shifted our attention to the inner layer.
A series of loud popping noises penetrated my ears.
"Did you hear that?" Graham cocked his head. "They can't hold out much longer."
"Then we'd better pick up the pace."
I grabbed one end of a desk. He grabbed the other end and we hauled it to the side. He hurried back to the pile and picked up another chair. I waited for him to clear out of the way. Then I grabbed a giant cabinet and rocked it away from the wall. Just behind it, I saw a metal door.
I grabbed the knob. It turned easily enough but when I tried to pull it, the door held fast.
"There's a deadbolt." Graham crouched. "Actually, there are two of them."
I pointed my beam at the metal surface. "There's a third one up here. Why would the Nazis put deadbolts in the middle of nowhere?"
I didn't wait for an answer. Instead, I pushed the top deadbolt. Metal screeched against metal as it slid open.
The sound of crackling gunfire intensified.
Graham released the other two deadbolts. I yanked the knob again. The door opened. Stale air swept into my lungs.
"Beverly," I shouted as I pushed Graham through the gap. "Pat. Come on."
Footsteps pounded against rock. The gunfire grew louder.
I darted through the door. The temperature climbed a couple of degrees. A sweet scent wafted into my nostrils.
I shifted my beam. I saw Beverly and Baxter sprinting toward the door. Behind them, I noticed figures squeezing through the rock gate's small opening. "Hurry up," I whispered frantically.
They ran faster and darted past me. I swung the door shut. Graham swept his flashlight beam over the frame. Then he bent down and slid two bolts into place. I found another bolt at the top of the door and forced it into position.
I could hear footsteps in the adjoining room. They paused. Whispers rang out. Then the footsteps started again, albeit at a much slower pace. They crisscrossed the grotto. Furniture creaked. Sheets were tossed to the ground.
"Come on," Beverly said. "We can't stay here."
"Hang on a moment." Graham pointed his beam at the door. "Check that out."
The metal looked bruised as if someone had attempted to batter it open. Long scratches and dents were etched into its surface.
"The Nazis must've kept their prisoners here," Graham remarked. "They probably revolted. That explains the piled furniture."
"No. I've seen scratches like this before." Baxter knelt down. Slowly, he traced them with his finger. "I'll never forget them."
"You mean …?"
"Prisoners didn't make them." He exhaled. "Fenrir did."
Chapter 83
"Damn, it's warm." Graham wiped his brow. "What's down there anyway? Some kind of volcano?"
"God, I hope not." Beverly swept her flashlight in a circle. The tunnel was wide and sloped deep into the ground. "Well, it doesn't look like a lava tube."
Graham unzipped his parka. "How much do you know about this place?"
"Enough."
"Why'd the Nazis choose to build it here?"
"Secrecy and privacy, I suppose."
"There's no food source." His frown deepened. "And maybe this place gave them privacy. But it also isolated them. How could they possibly spread the Great Dying from this lifeless hunk of ice?"
Beverly didn't answer.
"Another door." Beads of sweat dripped down my forehead and I brushed them away. "Looks like it took a pounding too. But it wasn't bolted like the other one so it didn't stay shut."
Beverly gave it a gentle shove. Metal screeched and it swung open.
I pointed my flashlight into the void. I saw a massive cavern. A dull white light illuminated a small section of it.
"Where the hell is that light coming from?" Graham asked.
I glanced up. "There's a small aperture in the ceiling. A little bit of sunlight is shining through it."
Water dripped from the ceiling. I followed it downward. My eyes settled on the center of the room. Puzzle pieces clicked into place. "I know why it's so warm in here."
Graham cocked his head. "Well, let's hear it."
"Because of that lake." I pointed at a large pool of water in the middle of the cavern. "It's not a typical lake. It's a geothermal lake."
Chapter 84
My eyes bulged as I walked into the cavern. The lake was roughly the size of a professional basketball court. Fungi covered the rocks along its shoreline. I noticed a few green plants as well. It was beautiful in a way, a veritable underground paradise surrounded by miles of endless snow.
"Lots of space," Graham eyed the lake. "And free swimming too."
My gaze locked onto the nearest wall. I saw streaks of blood as well as bits of rotten gore. A light breeze touched my face, carrying with it the faint odors of feces and raw meat. The area didn't smell like an untouched lake. It smelled like a slaughterhouse.
So much for paradise.
"It's not so bad," I replied. "If you can get past the stench of death."
A smooth rock floor stretched around the lake. At the northern end, I saw a long passage. I thought I saw a door at the end of it, but it was too far away to be certain. A door, large and circular, stood on the far side of the lake. It looked like the door to a bank vault and was cracked open a couple of feet.
Baxter knelt down next to the water. He held his hand out over the surface. "How does it stay so warm?"
"It's being heated by the Earth," I replied. "The water must extend deep into the crust, all the way to the mantle. It mixes with hot rocks and flows back up here."
"In other words, it's one big pool of thermal energy. Too bad this isn't closer to Kirby."
"It looks like the Nazis made good use of it." I pointed to a series of long pipes. They entered the lake on the south side and quickly vanished underwater. "They built some kind of primitive geothermal pump to extract heat from the lake. They must've used it to generate electricity."
"Do you think it still works?"
I held up a finger, cutting him off. I listened hard for a few seconds, trying to distinguish sounds from the howling winds high above us.
Graham frowned. "Hear something?"
"Yes," I replied. "It was like a strange skittering sound. But I don't—”
"Look." Graham stabbed his finger toward the opposite side of the lake. "Over there."