“What is it?” Ben asked.
She turned. “You might want to see this.”
The group followed her to the side of the cave, and Ben had to ease past a jostling Koenig and Jenny.
She pointed. “Your ancestor reaches out to you.”
On the wall, scratched into the stone was writing. Ben came in closer and held up his own light. He then rubbed at some of the mineral excretions and algae that were masking some of the words. He began to read them.
“This is a lost world, and we are lost within it.”
Ben used his palm, faster now, to wipe more lichen from the letters.
“Time is running out. If we delay, we’ll be trapped here forever.”
The two sentences made his stomach flip, and he couldn’t imagine the horror for the two solitary men trapped here. He read the last line.
“They come at night. We know they’re watching. BBC. 1908.”
“BBC — Benjamin Bartholomew Cartwright,” Ben breathed.
“They come at night.” Koenig nodded. “And, they’re watching.” Koenig’s mouth twitched. “I’m thinking maybe we need two on guard duty.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking the same.” Ben turned away. “Baxter never made it off the plateau. But somehow Benjamin did.”
“Well, Ben the 1st is not giving away any clues today,” Steve observed.
“Maybe he hadn’t worked out how to escape yet,” Koenig mused.
“Good point.” Steve nodded. “So, tomorrow’s another day.” He looked up. “Who’s on first shift?”
“Emma, you okay?” He saw that the young woman was still distracted, and her eyes were rimmed.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” She walked a little closer to the words on the wall and reached up to touch them.
She didn’t look it, Ben thought. They were all being ground down.
“I can do the first shift of two hours. Then Jenny and Walt, followed by Steve and Janus.” Ben looked to Barlow. “Edward, you can do the last shift with me again.”
Emma spun, frowning. “That’s not fair, you doing two shifts.” She jerked a thumb at Bellakov. “Make him do two shifts.”
“It’s not a problem; I won’t be able to sleep anyway.” Ben shrugged. “Besides, if it wasn’t for me and that stupid notebook, you all wouldn’t even be here.”
“That’s not true,” Emma protested.
“Sadly, my dear, it is true,” Barlow added. “Mostly.”
Ben turned, his lips curled. “Except for you. If your men had done a better job stealing it from us in England, then you’d be here, and we wouldn’t. So you’re getting everything you deserve.” Ben grinned menacingly.
“Easy there, young man. It was just a poor attempt at humor.” Barlow returned Ben’s glare with a half-lidded disinterest.
The group cleared a space around the fire, threw some more logs on, and then settled down to try and get some sleep. Ben and Emma moved to sit beside the cave entrance.
Ben handed her his canteen. “Try not to look back at the fire, it’ll reduce your night vision ability.”
“Got it.” She took the canteen and sipped, and then handed it back. “I don’t trust Bellakov, or his gross little paymaster.”
He took the canteen. “Neither do I. But we need them. And once we’re all off this plateau, we never have to see their ugly mugs again.”
She nodded and then smiled, but it crumbled quickly. “What do you really think happened to Dan and Andrea?”
He looked back out at the darkness. “Steve said Dan was taken by something from the lake. He didn’t see what happened to Andrea. I trust Steve’s version.” He shrugged. “That’s all we can do.”
She was silent for many minutes, ruminating. “So, tomorrow…” she began, “… What’s the plan?”
He snorted softly. Frankly, he had no idea, but was determined to stay positive, if only for her.
“Priority one, we stay alive.” He held out his canteen again, but she declined. He sipped and then stared out into the darkness. “We’ve been up on this plateau for less than a day, and we’ve already lost four people. So tomorrow, we use what we’ve learned from those tragedies to be a little bit smarter.” He turned to her. “But bottom line, we need to find a way down, and maybe take some risks. Staying here is not an option.”
She nodded, but then glanced at him. “Your great, great grandfather said that time was running out, and that there was a risk they could be trapped up here forever. What did he mean by that?”
Ben sighed. He also remembered Benjamin saying this place could only be found or rather, seen, once every decade. Nothing made sense anymore. He shook his head.
“I don’t know exactly, Emm. But I have no intention of any of us being trapped up here for even one more minute, let alone forever.”
Behind them, Barlow began to snore softly. Ben scoffed. “Glad someone is comfortable. Don’t know how he does it.”
“I think I’m like you. I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to,” Emma said. “I just want to go home.” She leaned against him. “Get me home, Ben; just get me home.”
The hours burned down just like the fire. The bodies tossed and turned, none of the group really falling into a fitful sleep. The two watching at the mouth of the cave also lapsed into a sense of lassitude, as the warmth of the night’s humidity coupled with the smell of wood smoke became comforting and entrancing.
Outside, there was the ever-present noise of a jungle — things moved, scurried, and far out from the cave, something died, probably brutally. But close to them, all seemed calm.
But from the depths of the cave, eyes watched — a few at first, then hundreds, and then thousands.
The surge finally came around 3:00 in the morning.
“Ouch.”
Ben opened his eyes at the sound of Barlow’s voice. The man shifted his sleeping bulk and relaxed again.
The first thing he noticed was the fire had burned down to a soft red glow. The second thing he was aware of was the almond-like smell that Jenny had first detected when they entered the cave was now pervasive and strong enough for him to pick it out over the top of the carcass, and the smoke.
Ben sat up, all vestiges of sleep falling away, and he let his eyes travel over the cave’s interior. He saw the outline of Steve and Janus at the cave mouth, on their shift, and both doing their job staying focused on outside. Around the shrunken fire, there were the sleeping bodies of the group.
But now he was sure there was something else. Ben sat straighter and closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated — there it was; a small sound like dry leaves rustling, or perhaps very faint click-clacking like tiny knitting needles.
Barlow slapped at one fat leg and rolled over again, trying to get comfortable. The big man was the furthest inside the cave’s interior as Ben guessed he wanted everyone between him and the cave mouth for added protection. Bravery didn’t exactly flow like fire through this guy’s veins.
Barlow grunted and slapped at himself again, and then he sat up, or rather jerked upright, with his eyes as round as silver dollars. But it was his scream that made the hair on Ben’s head feel like it was standing on end.
Everyone was suddenly up and in a panic, and only then did Ben flick on his light and train it on the struggling man.
He wished he hadn’t.
Edward Barlow was in the middle of a glistening carpet of shells — insects — all about as long as a thumb.
“Jesus Christ.” Ben shot to his feet. The wave was coming from the depths of the cave, and the sea of bodies had first found Barlow. In just the time that Ben spent watching, they had swarmed over the man.