Toxic fumes.
Chapter 77
If my leg was long enough, I would’ve kicked myself. When heated, altered, or even touched, arsenopyrite released arsenic into the air. It accounted for the garlic odor. Hell, it accounted for everything.
Once upon a time, the Caborn-Welborn culture had started a massive fire around the mesa’s exterior. In the process, they’d heated the arsenopyrite ore, unleashing arsenic into the air. Hundreds of people, if not thousands, had died and the culture vanished from the history books.
Centuries later, Justin’s crew took refuge within the giant cavern. They’d blocked off most — if not all — forms of ventilation. After the Army had abandoned its search, they’d proceeded to heat canned goods over a large fire. The fire caused toxic arsenic to enter the air.
And their lungs.
Skulking along the wall, I made my way toward the open plate. The scent of garlic invaded my nostrils and I was forced to hold my breath. Saul’s buddies lay everywhere. Some bled from fatal wounds. Others were merely unconscious.
“Cy!” I twisted toward the bellowing voice. Saul and a few of his friends stalked toward me with blood in their still-dazed eyes, furious beyond belief.
My gaze fell to the myriad of guns clutched in their meaty paws. I stood in a wide-open section of cavern with nothing for cover. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They had me dead to rights, condemned to perish in a blaze of gunfire. But I knew something they didn’t know.
Condemned men are the most dangerous of all.
I whipped out my pistol and sprinted forward. I took my time and made each shot count. My first bullet caught one guy’s throat. My second one ripped into another guy’s chest, narrowly missing his heart. And that was all it took for Saul’s men to tuck tail and scatter to the far recesses of the cavern.
Unfortunately, Saul was a different story.
He backed up just enough to take cover behind one of the trucks. Then he knelt down and returned fire.
Bullets began to shoot toward me at a deliberate pace. The first one missed me by a couple of feet. The second one nearly hit my feet. Changing direction, I started to zigzag across the space, heading for one of the other trucks. But each shot got closer and closer.
Loud honks sounded out. Bright lights flashed. The gunfire ceased and I raced to cover.
A small truck appeared. The driver hit the brakes and the vehicle slid sideways to a halt directly in front of the foremost dump truck. Seconds later, the doors opened and Graham and Beverly appeared. Beverly held a rifle and Graham sported a shotgun.
They hiked into the cavern on either side of the dump truck. Together, they laid down a raucous blaze of gunfire. Saul’s men tried to return fire, but they quickly succumbed to the deadly hail of bullets.
Meanwhile, I retreated to the back of the cavern and took out the stragglers as well as the guy who’d been watching over the tunnel. Afterward, I returned to the plate where Graham and Beverly were huddled in a small circle.
“You okay?” Graham asked.
I turned around, taking in the many corpses. “Better than them.”
The air rushed and the hairs on my arms stood on end. Abruptly, tiny pings rang out all around me.
I grabbed the others and we took up position behind the foremost dump truck. Peering around the corner, I surveyed the clearing.
“Who is that?” Beverly asked. “The Army?”
“Nope, it’s Saul.” My gaze tightened. “And he’s got back-up.”
Chapter 78
A sharp blast erupted, followed by hissing metal. Air whooshed as a bullet barreled into the back-end of the dump truck, just a foot or so from my face.
I realized now that Saul had split his gang into two groups. While the first one set about taking the trucks, the second one waited around the area, presumably to help clear the way. Now, the second group was being pressured into active duty.
I fired off a few shots to keep Saul and his men honest. They ducked low and halted. When they started toward us again, it was at a much slower pace.
I looked over my shoulder. Fire raged in several places and the odor of garlic was particularly pungent. My gaze turned to the many corpses strewn about the cavern. They’d been armed, so we weren’t hurting for weapons. But we were still heavily outnumbered.
Graham and Beverly ran to the other end of the dump truck. They managed a few shots, but were quickly driven back into cover by a hail of bullets.
“Any chance K.J. and his men are coming?” I called out.
“We never reached him,” Graham replied. “We doubled back when we heard the explosion.”
“Which leaves us with two options,” Beverly said. “Either we hold off Saul’s guys and hope K.J. comes back soon or we handle this on our own.”
I shot a quick glance into the clearing. It was hard to count them all, but I figured Saul had at least a dozen shooters at his disposal. If they knew even a modicum of military strategy, they’d easily overrun us in a matter of minutes. “Hey Dutch,” I called out. “Did you notice how the breeze died off? It’s stifling out there.”
A slow grin creased his visage. “You’re right. Saul and his friends must be sweating up a storm.”
“Think you can blow some air up their skirts?”
“Let’s find out.” He stripped the shirt off of one of the newly-dead corpses. Tying it around his face, he hustled deeper into the cavern.
“What are you up to?” Beverly asked.
“Taking advantage of the terrain.” I nodded at Saul’s team. “Can you handle them for a few minutes?”
“You know I hate playing alone,” she said with a pouty look.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“You’d better.”
I took a deep breath of fresh air. Then I stripped a second corpse of its shirt, tied the fabric around my face, and darted after Graham.
Taking shallow breaths, I hustled past the trucks and around the bend. The heat from the fires lessened and I picked up speed, sprinting all the way to the small cave. Some fresh air leaked in through the gap, but the odor of garlic was still quite strong.
Graham, flashlight in hand, stood within the cave. Silently, he appraised the many machines. Then he twisted around and pointed his beam at some toolboxes and a couple of gas canisters.
I took up position near the smoke machine. Then I aimed my gun at the gap leading out to the clearing, just in case any of Saul’s guys tried to sneak up on us.
With the sound of gunfire ringing in our ears, Graham began scurrying about the area. For the next five minutes, he tightened screws, hammered down panels, sliced off frayed wires, and rewired control panels.
“Well, the inflator is shot.” Graham grunted. “Same goes for the smoke machine.”
I kept my eyes on the gap. “Can you still filter air through the pipes?”
“I don’t see why not.” He hustled to the wall. Grabbing one of the gas canisters, he hauled it to the smoke machine’s air compressor and began pouring gas into a circular hole. Liquid splashed loudly against metal.
He grabbed more canisters and proceeded to fill the rest of the tank. Then he did the same for the inflator’s air compressor.
Meanwhile, I climbed through the gap and entered the hole we’d dug earlier in the evening. Peeking above the rim, I saw Saul’s men creeping across the clearing, keeping low in order to avoid Beverly’s gunfire.
I slipped back into the small cave. Graham continued to fiddle with one of the air compressors, connecting wires and tightening fasteners. Then he tightened a few more screws and took a deep breath. Reaching out, he flipped a red switch on the control panel. Loud clanking noises rang out as air began to pump into the machines.