Matt Archer: Blade's Edge (21 page)

“Me, too.” It didn’t worry me, though. Brandt wasn’t exactly a buddy of mine; maybe I could only hear people I knew well. “So, do you believe me now?”

“Yes, I believe you.” Parker stared at his hand, stunned. “Go get Major Tannen; we have an attack to plan.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

G
etting to the caves turned
out to be more trouble than we thought. Old IEDs—improvised explosive devices—were always a concern, so we traveled a winding route the Army Explosive Detection team deemed safe. As we crawled along in M-ATVs, the sun, just as bright as the day before, burned skin already chapped by the wind and my lips peeled no matter how much water I sipped to keep hydrated.

We reached the bottom of the mountains early in the afternoon. We’d have to climb from here.

Mike did a headcount as we piled out of our vehicles. Johnson and I, along with Schmitz, made up our core team and Parker had allowed Murphy and Lieutenant Patterson to join us. They were two of six guys from Ramirez’s team who’d volunteered to work the search and rescue mission. Patterson clapped me on the back and his square head cast a big shadow on the ground next to us.

“You planning to cook some demons?” I asked, pointing at the ordinance pack on his back. “Or is that just for show?”

He chuckled. “What’s a party without a little C-4?”

Murphy grunted a laugh, intent on checking over the weapons cache with Schmitz. Rifles and pistols were laid on a small tarp. When it came time to dole them out, Murphy gave me a questioning look when I asked for a pistol.

“You’re packing a knife,” he said. “Not sure you need any help.”

Schmitz handed me a shoulder harness, pistol and extra magazines. “Major Tannen wants him armed.”

Murphy frowned. “I sure hope he doesn’t need to use it, otherwise we’re in bigger trouble than we thought.”

The gun belt felt weird on my shoulders. Worried it would restrain my reach, I practiced some moves with the knife to see if it’d interfere. Parker joined me a minute later, and we did a bizarre ballet together, turning, jabbing, slicing the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some of the men pausing to watch us. A few, like Lieutenant Gotley from the command tent, had their mouths open. New guys for sure.

My knife sang a high pitched note and Parker’s answered.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Parker said. “All right, listen up! Major Tannen has blue team. Red team, you’re with me. Let’s get up that mountain before nightfall!”

“Hooah!” the crowd answered.

The mountain pass turned out to be a narrow goat track between two walls of rock. We didn’t have to climb, but the way was steep and uneven. I stubbed my toes more than once, and my BDUs were soaked with sweat before we’d made it halfway.

We were about a hundred feet from the top when the trail abruptly ended at a sheer rock face. Everyone stopped to stare.

“What are you looking at?” Parker said. “Murph, Gotley—climb that wall.”

Gotley stood a little taller when Parker singled him out. Without a word, the guys shed their backpacks to make seating harnesses out of rope.

“This’ll be good,” Schmitz whispered.

“Why?” I asked.

“Both these guys are pretty competitive, and both of them finished top of their classes in mountaineering.” Schmitz grinned and called, “I got ten on Murph.”

“Twenty,” three or four voices answered.

Gotley and Murphy approached the wall. They checked it out for a minute, probably looking for good handholds. Murphy glanced at Gotley and said, “I’ll be waiting for you at the top, sir.”

Gotley chuckled. “Not if I can help it, Master Sergeant.”

Then they were off, climbing that rock face like a pair of spiders. Murphy was bigger and gained a lot of ground with each toehold. Gotley, younger than Murph by a good ten years, was quicker, though, scampering from one handhold to the next on invisible crevices. I had no idea how he was ascending, but the dude was scary-good.

Murphy put on a burst of speed, pushing off hard with his legs to catch handholds well above his head. More than once I was sure he was going to plummet to the ground, convinced the rope anchors he’d driven into the rock face would give under his weight. Somehow he didn’t, crawling up the wall through pure will and brute strength.

They neared the top, neck and neck. Murphy had to stop to anchor in, and dropped his pin. Gotley drove his anchor into the wall on the first shot, and struggled past the lieutenant. He caught the top of the rock face, grinning down at us.

Before I could register what was happening, something grabbed his arms and jerked Gotley onto the cliff and out of sight. His screams were cut off in a matter of seconds. After a final, weak gurgle, the mountain pass fell silent.

“Master Sergeant, get down!” Uncle Mike yelled.

Murphy swore and swung down his rope at top speed. Everyone else scurried behind boulders, weapons pointed at the top of the rock face. Nothing stirred for several minutes. Schmitz glared at the top of the cliff, his finger resting by the trigger of his pistol.

This whole nightmare made spots dance in front of my eyes, but it also told me one thing: we were in the right place. We hadn’t seen any other entrance to the caves en route, and it made sense the Takers would have a guard outside their lair. I could hear Parker and Uncle Mike discussing retreat in low whispers. My knife rattled urgently in my pocket.

No turning back,
the spirit whispered.
We have to find him.

I agreed—if we left now, we’d never get Ramirez or his knife back. “We can’t retreat,” I said. “Which means I’m climbing that rock face.”

Uncle Mike shook his head. “No way.”

“Whatever’s up there probably can’t be taken out with a gun. A wielder has to go up and clear the way,” I said through gritted teeth. I nodded to Parker. “No offense, Captain, but this is a job for me.”

“None taken,” Parker said. He pointed at Schmitz. “You got his back?”

Schmitz rose into a crouch. “Always.”

I made sure the knife was securely in its sheath, wondering if I’d gone too far to prove myself. Could I make it up the rock wall? My only climb was when I trained with Schmitz; this was a completely different story than a fake rock face in the gym. I squared my shoulders—being a wuss about it wouldn’t get the job done.

Murphy made a rope seat for me and helped me get set. “Anchors are in,” he said, tightening the straps around my waist. “All you have to do is tie in and climb. I even left the rope up there. You can do this, kid.”

I nodded. It wasn’t a matter of “can.” This was a matter of “had to.”

Schmitz and I crept to the rock face. Nothing flung boulders down on us, so I grabbed the rope and tied in. My hands shook, and my lunch swirled in my stomach. No, I couldn’t freak now. I had to get a grip—literally.

I found an easy toehold two feet off the ground and pushed off. The next handhold was a fissure in the rock. Another toehold to the right and up eighteen inches.

Slow. Set your foot, grab the wall, balance, tie in, reach for the next one…

I chanted, “don’t fall, don’t fall,” again and again. Schmitz kept pace with me although I knew he could’ve climbed much faster. When we were even with the last set of anchors, I loosened the knife in its sheath. Carrying it my mouth didn’t seem like a good idea; I’d just have to trust I’d be able to draw it in time. Schmitz gave me a little nod, and looked up to the edge.

Not wanting to go in blind, I braced my feet on the top anchors and pushed myself up so that my head peeked over the side.

There it was, squatting in the shadows of not one, but two cave entrances.

It wasn’t a Taker—this monster was something else entirely. It cocked its head, staring right at me and the knife’s power surged through my veins. I pulled it from the sheath, bent my legs for power and launched myself onto the cliff’s floor.

The creature screeched and came running. It had wide, flat feet, knees that bent the wrong way, a thick chest and a face that resembled a pug. Hair grew out of its ears and nose, and the thing stank to high-heaven like the worst B.O. I’d ever smelled. Might’ve been comical if it wasn’t twelve-feet tall and covered with ropy muscles, too. If I lived through this, I needed to call some science magazines, because I’d found the Missing Link.

It swiped a huge hand at my head. I ducked and its wide, blunt fingers whooshed over me with the force of a wrecking ball. Diving into a roll, I swung the knife to slash its ankle. The thing howled and slammed both fists on the ground. I swear the rocks shook under the blow.

Men yelled my name from the base of the cliff. Surely Schmitz had the good sense to slide back down. I popped to my feet, knife at the ready, as the creature swung at me again. This time I was expecting it and ducked under its arm to deliver a quick stab between its ribs. It squealed like a wild boar. I yanked the knife free to attempt a killing blow, but the monster wrapped a hand around my waist, pinning my arms, then flipped me over and dangled me upside down.

All the blood rushed to my head as a giant, gaping mouth of broken teeth filled my field of view. I squirmed and managed to kick it in the face. Growling, it squeezed me until my air wheezed out and I saw stars. The knife-spirit called to me, but I couldn’t work the blade free.

Then, weirdly, a rock hit the monster in the cheek.

“Hey, over here, stupid!” Schmitz called.

The monster dropped me on my head and I lay gasping on the rocks as Schmitz danced around the thing. It’d swipe; he’d duck or jump. He was faster, and kept the monster a bay for a few swipes, but one time, he was too late. The thing snatched Schmitz and yanked him up by one ankle. The monster tilted its head back, jaws open wide, dangling the master sergeant over its mouth.

I struggled to rise, but it took a few big gasps to get my wind back. Finally, I pushed myself up and the knife’s handle glowed, giving me strength.

“No dinner for you,” I shouted. I took a running leap, then plunged the knife into its lower back. Pulling hard as I came down, I sliced the thing’s torso open. The monster teetered, and I rolled aside as it collapsed backward with Schmitz on top of its chest.

Schmitz got to his feet, looking shaky. “Thanks, Archer. I owe you one.”

“You kidding?” I said. “You saved me.”

“We’re even then.” Schmitz scanned the cave openings. “Only one guard?”

“Doubtful,” I said, cleaning the knife on my pant leg. “Maybe just one outside, but I’m betting it’s like a zoo from Hell inside those caves.”

We called down to the others, and two-by-two they ascended the rock face. Once assembled, Captain Parker split the teams again. “Pair of entrances…Red goes right, Blue, left.”

Uncle Mike nodded. “If we don’t find the major in three hours, the bottom of the cliff is the rendezvous point. Radio silence unless you find him. Three squawks if you do.”

Evening was falling; in three hours it’d be dark. Maybe it didn’t matter, since the caves were so dark themselves, but the thought of being up here at night gave me the creeps, reminding me of the vision/psychotic break I’d had at school. I couldn’t kill what I couldn’t see.

“Let’s move out,” Uncle Mike said.

I kept the knife unsheathed. The others held pistols at the ready, carrying flashlights in their other hands. The entry wasn’t wide enough for anything but single file. I took the lead, with Mike right behind me. He was followed by Johnson and Murphy, with Patterson and Schmitz bringing up the rear. The floor wasn’t quite sandy, but rock dust and dirt crunched under the soles of my boots, sounding loud in the confined space. The walls were uneven and the ceiling sloped up and down. Sometimes we could walk upright, but we had to duck a lot, too. Really crappy place to be if you were claustrophobic.

Maybe I wouldn’t think about that.

Finally the tunnel opened up a little bit, dead-ending at a fork. “Which way?” I asked.

Uncle Mike said, “Right,” and Johnson said, “Left.”

I gave the knife’s handle a little squeeze, hoping the spirit would give me an answer. She didn’t. In fact, she seemed…undecided, almost like she was pacing in my head, trying to figure out a puzzle. Something down here had her confused.

“We should go right. Left might send us back out to the entrance,” Uncle Mike said.

With a sigh, I shined my light down the tunnel on the right. The beam only cut a few feet into the darkness. I glanced back at Uncle Mike, who shrugged.

Okay, then. I forged ahead, shining my light on the ground so I wouldn’t trip or run into something lying in wait. The caves seemed awfully quiet for a place guarded by a Darwinian reject; that usually meant trouble. I grasped my flashlight tighter.

The path took a sharp curve to the right again, leading into the heart of the mountain. I paused; something glowed up ahead. I clicked off my light to be sure. Yep, glowing.

“You guys see that?” I asked.

No one answered.

I turned around. Oh, crap.

I was alone.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I
tried not to panic; maybe
they’d stopped before the bend in the tunnel. I went back a few steps to check, but the bend in the tunnel was gone. In its place stood a solid wall. My gut clenched as I touched the rough surface of the rock; it wasn’t an illusion. Oh, man, where did I end up?

I started to get lightheaded—I was totally lost. How would anyone find me if I was trapped behind solid rock? I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to stay calm. Every once in a while someone would call my name, but the sound echoed, not giving me any real sense of direction.

Then I heard a new call coming from straight ahead.

“Matt.”

I stumbled toward the voice, almost like my feet where dragging me that direction, and entered a large cavern with a dry, clean rock floor. The air glowed a soft yellow, not unlike candlelight; I couldn’t find the source, though…maybe it came from the walls themselves.

“Here I am.”

The voice was silky, caressing the back of my neck. I looked up and froze.

The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen stood at the opposite end of the cavern. Her waist-length hair was jet black, contrasting with her golden skin. The woman’s eyes shone jade green, and her mouth was curved in a smile that made all kinds of promises as she glided toward me with cat-like grace. I could almost hear Fiona Apple’s
Criminal
playing in tempo with her footsteps as her midnight blue robe brushed along the floor.