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More bullets. He turned and fired back. Another pause.

“Nate!” King warned, seeing a giant black shape shooting like a torpedo through the water. He reached down with both hands and grasped Raine under the armpits, hauling them both backwards just as the enormous Orinoco crocodile breached the surface, jaws agape, teeth gnashing. The reptile propelled itself six-feet out of the water and landed with half its body of the path. It whipped around its head, jaws mere inches from Raine and King’s feet. Together, they kicked it once, twice and, a third time, with all their strength. The crocodile, perched precariously, lost its balance and rolled back into the churning water.

More bullets chewed up the ground. “Come on!” Raine jumped to his feet, firing the last of his own bullets and manhandling King down the throat of the stone snake.

“I’ve had enough of being shot at!” King complained.

“You get used to it!”

The narrow, manmade path grew narrower and the ambient light from the city faded to little more than a flickering glow. Footsteps echoed behind them as their attackers gave chase, following them around a sharp U-bend. A beam of red laser light pierced the gloom, hitting Raine’s back—

The ancient path collapsed under their combined weight and they hit the fast moving water just as it crested the top of a series of underground rapids.

The freezing spray stung King’s eyes and the rocks of the tunnel scraped his skin as he was hurled over one rapid, the current dragging him under. He breached the surface, looked about, and saw Raine take the full brunt of an impact to the chest. He went under and didn’t surface before King hit the next series of rapids. These were longer and steeper and despite thrashing his arms and legs, he could not control his angle of descent. He cried out in terror as the blackness took him. He felt his skin slice open on razor sharp, jagged teeth of rock.

Instinctively, he reached out and grasped an outcrop, ignoring the pain as it tore his flesh and then pounded him against it.

The ping of a bullet whip-lashed off the rock only an inch from his hand. He released his hold and was swept away once more. Spinning in the eddies, he saw Raine surface and fire wildly up the tunnel. Through the light of his muzzle-flash, King saw another humanoid figure being swept towards them. A barrage of bullets answered his challenge, super-hot metal striking sparks off the walls.

“We’re not gonna make it!” King shouted.

Raine grasped him by the shoulders and swung him around. “Don’t be such a pessimist!” he scolded and pointed ahead down the tunnel.

King saw the most welcome sight of his life. A single stream of golden sunlight piercing the gloom up ahead.

They had made it.

Almost.

The torrent of water swung them around another bend in the tunnel. The light faded, returned. Then they dropped again, a six-foot high fall, sending King’s stomach up into his throat. They both went under, surfaced—

The black-clad soldier was there, struggling in the maelstrom of frothing, churning liquid. The glassy face-plate of his helmet turned towards King, then looked down at the pink purse he still carried, the Moon Mask within. He lunged at King just as they hit another rapid. King was hurled over the rocks, clear out of the water. The impact sliced through his clothing and his skin, causing him to cry out. He rolled down them, splashing back into the water—

The soldier’s hand grasped the purse and ripped it from his body, the straps snapping. King lunged at him but the butt of his rifle slammed into his chin.

Stars exploded behind his eyes as he fell backwards. The cold water brought some sense back to him, as did the lungful of liquid which he vomited out.

Raine tore up out of the frothing chaos, having been dragged in the current from the mini-waterfall. Propelled against a rock, he slammed into the soldier before he could aim his rifle. King saw both men go under, limbs thrashing. He swam towards them, saw the purse, reached out—

His back smashed into a large outcropping of rock. He spun around and was blinded by the intense glare of sunlight streaming in through the tunnel’s exit. Below, he saw a flash of emerald green — the jungle canopy.

That meant they were high.

Very high.

Raine and his opponent surfaced just in time to see the deluge of water pour over the lip of the tunnel and drag all three of them down.

“Not again!” Raine called out as they were tossed like flotsam and jetsam, spewed out of the innards of the enormous monster that was Sarisariñama.

20:

Resting Place

Jaua-Sarisariñama National Park,
Venezuela

Benjamin King felt consciousness tickle at the corners of his mind an instant before he awoke in a fit of coughing, spluttering foul tasting water over the undergrowth. The distant roar of cascading water impacting a lagoon echoed over the other noises of the jungle; the whoop of monkeys, the cries of colourful parrots, the hiss of reptiles and the buzz of insects.

He suddenly became very aware of the dangers around him and quickly scrambled out of the narrow channel down which he had been swept.

Wiping water out of his eyes, he surveyed his surroundings. He couldn’t see the pool of water in which he must have landed and realised the current had swept him, unconscious, several hundred yards downstream. The thick canopy of trees obscured much of the pounding rain as the storm continued to rage overhead, but as the sun began to set, red streamers of light cut horizontally through the jungle, setting it aglow.

His hand instantly went to his side where the purse containing the Moon Mask had been for most of his insane adventure. He remembered the soldier ripping it from him, Raine desperately trying to tear it free.

But, where was it now?

* * *

Nathan Raine broke the surface of the pool at the base of the Sarisariñama tepui. He coughed to clear his lungs and quickly took in his surroundings. A channel of water snaked away from the sheer face of the mountain, cutting deep into the rainforest.

There was no sign of King but, as he swam quickly to the edge of the pool and clambered ashore, he saw a black-clad soldier lying, arched impossibly backwards, over jagged rocks at the base of the cascade.

Clutched tightly in his hand was the strap of a pink purse.

The Moon Mask.

* * *

The rain splashed in the water of the pool as King followed the river’s course back to the base of the tepui. He scanned the darkening jungle, searching for any sign of Raine, the soldier, or the Moon Mask.

He found the soldier sprawled across the rocks, his outstretched hand empty. The Moon Mask was nowhere in sight. Neither was Nathan Raine.

His eyes absorbed all the details of the sheer mountain face, peering up to the cloud-wreathed summit. Once again, he thought about Sid, wondered about her fate. But he knew he had to focus on his task. If what Nadia had said was true, he couldn’t let the mask get into the wrong hands.

He pushed into the Venezuelan jungle, the enormous leaves of the world of giants casting a gloomy shadow on the world below. He was tired, his body desperately needed a break. His skin was slashed and bruised, his bones aching, but he continued on, wandering aimlessly.

A noise froze him!

Another made him swing his head around.

But there was nothing but the green prison of humongous leaves and snaking vines. Then, some distance away, he saw the underbrush swaying, heard another crunch of foliage beneath heavy boots.

He was being stalked.

Hunted.

But by who? The Chinese? The black commandoes?

Raine?

He spun around and would have yelped in surprise had not Raine’s hand suddenly clamped around his mouth, silencing him. He dragged him to the ground and hid beneath the giant leafs. For a moment, he resisted the attack.