"It's been a while. We don't have volcanoes in Pittsburgh."
"Obviously it's dormant now, but Mount Halla's eruption formed this island millions of years ago. Everything you see-the hotels, the lakes, the trees-is sitting on volcanic rock. But the most remarkable part is what you can't see. The core of this entire island is surging with lava tubes, massive wormholes snaking through the earth like giant veins. And I'm not talking small caves. I'm talking huge. The largest is more than eight miles long."
Running throughout the northeastern corner of the island, Manjanggul is one of the longest lava tube systems in the world. The width of the main cave varies between six and seventy feet, while the height soars to more than ninety feet in certain spots. Tourists flock to three main entrances, where they are able to explore the naturally formed lava pillars and stalactites, including a landmark called Turtle Rock, which looks like an ancient turtle crawling out of the depths of Earth. Public tours are stopped six-tenths of a mile deep, leaving seven and a half miles to scientists who observe bats and other underground creatures in their natural habitat. They also study the tubes themselves, trying to ascertain why rivers of lava that once flowed deep underground burst to the surface, leaving massive chasms behind.
Experts believe there are more than a hundred lava tubes on Jeju, but only 60 percent have been documented in public records. The others are either undiscovered or being used for alternative purposes-such as the cave the U.S. military was studying. It was being protected by the top soldiers in the Pacific fleet.
A thick rope hung between two camphor trees at the bottom of the rocky trail, blocking all unauthorized personnel. Two soldiers dressed in casual clothes sat on folding chairs, checking IDs. If they were trying to look inconspicuous, they were unsuccessful. Their size and skin color gave them away. Thankfully, other soldiers fared much better. Their painted faces and camouflage uniforms blended in with the nearby woods, making them virtually invisible. They scanned the terrain with their sniper scopes, poised to eliminate any trespassers who tried to approach the cave. Although this island was South Korean, this hillside temporarily belonged to the United States of America.
Members of Payne's team flashed their credentials and were given immediate access to the site. Led by the soldier from the SUV, the trio climbed the path behind him, careful where they stepped. First Jones, then Kia, then Payne, his eyes darting back and forth, noticing everything. Azalea bushes, no longer in bloom, dotted the lower landscape, as did fields of long brown grass that rustled like dead leaves every time the wind blew. Up ahead, larger trees lined the basalt trail, roots and trunks squeezing out of narrow fissures in the stone. Fingerlike branches waved overhead, swaying against the breeze, as if urging them to stop. Under their footsteps, rocks crunched like broken bones, the sound mixing with the stale scent that wafted down the hillside like a waterfall of stench. The entire place felt macabre, like nothing Payne had ever experienced before. In his mind, he likened it to the setting of an Edgar Allan Poe story.
"Good Lord," Payne said. "What in the world is that smell?"
The driver answered coyly. "It's the reason you're here."
7
Fifteen feet from the cave entrance, each member of Payne's team was given three things: a surgical mask, surgical gloves, and crime-scene booties to be slipped over their shoes. Yet no instructions or details were provided.
Jones eyed the driver. "Are you worried we'll contaminate the scene?"
"Just the opposite. We're worried about the scene getting on you."
"What does that mean?"
The driver inched backward. "You'll find out soon enough."
Kia frowned. "You're not coming with us?"
"Not a chance. I saw it once and that was enough for me."
Confused, she turned toward Payne. "Sir, what's going on here? What is this place?"
He shrugged while sliding his mask over his nose and mouth. "We're about to find out."
In the summertime the six-foot crack in the stone mountain would have been covered by leaves and vines that dangled from the overhead cliff. Now the only thing protecting it was the team of snipers who hid in the trees. Payne studied the natural opening, looking for clues as to what might lie ahead. The only thing that stood out was the stench that seeped through his mask. It was a smell he recognized, one that foreshadowed a change in their assignment.
This wasn't going to be a rescue mission. It was something far worse.
Turning on his flashlight, Payne took a few steps inside and let his eyes adjust to the gloom. Jones and Kia followed closely. The breeze that had been prevalent on the outside had relented, replaced by dampness in the air that made the stone floor slick and the walls seep. The year-round temperature in the caves on Jeju was roughly fifty degrees, but the high humidity made it feel colder. Moisture clung to their clothes, their hair, their skin. So did the ghastly stench. It was far worse than a sewer. It was like walking into an autopsy.
Payne focused on Kia. "Are you squeamish? If so, I need to know right now."
"No, sir. I'm not squeamish. Why?"
"Because this is going to be bad. Worse than anything you've seen before."
Kia grimaced. "How do you know?"
"Experience."
"You used to investigate crime scenes?"
Jones answered for him. "No, we used to cause them."
Payne said nothing as he turned from Kia. He knew she was aware of their background with the MANIACs and the types of missions they used to run. Still, for a split second, he was embarrassed. Not for his actions-he was quite proud of his military record-but the way his past had been framed. Kia was a new member of his team, and he didn't want her to get the wrong impression. He wasn't a killer or a criminal. He was a soldier. Nothing more, nothing less.
Up ahead a shadow danced on the cave wall. Payne spotted it and headed toward the source of the light. It was a faint glow deep within the bowels of the mountain, yet he knew its intensity would increase tenfold when he reached the scene. Each step brought new sensations that he noted. The rumble of a portable generator. The artificial heat from overhead lights. The echoing drip of seeping liquid. And a stagnant cloud of that god-awful stench. It was inescapable. Unforgettable.
"Don't touch anything," he stressed to Kia. "And if you feel nauseous-"
"I won't feel nauseous."
Payne stopped and put his hand on her shoulder. "But if you feel nauseous, just leave the scene. Don't ask for permission. Just go. Get some fresh air, collect your thoughts, whatever you need to do. Just don't get sick at the scene. That's very important."
"I'll be fine, sir."
"Thankfully," Jones joked, "if she does vomit, this place will smell better."
"I'm not going to vomit," she insisted. "I'm not the least bit squeamish."
Payne nodded, hoping she was right. "Well, we'll find out soon enough."
Kia lasted less than ten seconds before she bolted toward the entrance. But Payne and Jones didn't stop her. Or blame her. During their time in the military, they had never witnessed anything like the scene inside the cave. It was beyond gruesome. It was barbaric.
Blood covered everything. The ceiling. The walls. The floors. Crevices in the stone were filled with sticky red puddles. Cracks looked like surging rivers, the liquid flowing from one point to the next, as if the cave had been drenched with a crimson rain, the downpour searching for a way to escape. Only there was nowhere for it to go because the entire chamber was saturated with fluid. Like a giant heart had exploded and coated everything in its wake.