Nen (3 page)

“This elevator takes you one thousand feet underground and we will reach the General’s Tomb.” Wong said.

“No kidding man, this old guy still safe for use?” Howard looked around a little doubtfully as he strolled into the construction elevator which resembled an oversized metallic bird cage.

“Very safe sir, everyone can come in,” Wong giggled, looking at Howard, “Like Eiffel Tower Elevator. No danger.”

The entire tour group managed to squeeze themselves into the gargantuan construction elevator. After ensuring that everyone was inside, Wong pushed the ‘down’ button on the side panel and the elevator started to descend slowly.

Outside the army bunker, down the cobbled stairway where the coach bus was parked, dark and gray clouds were starting to form quickly as the sun faded and flashes of lightning streaked across the greyish sky at unpredictable intervals. Dense and heavy snowflakes fell from above and cemented the bus with a thin coat of ice.

The elevator finally came to a stop at a small lift landing. The sturdy wire-meshed elevator doors slide open with a sharp screech and the tourists emptied out. Wong led the group through a tunneling passageway about four feet wide, eight feet high, dimly illuminated by flickering fluorescent lamps that lined the side walls. The air was warm and still in the narrow passageway. The tourists strode in a single file for almost fifty yards before coming to a halt outside a bolted timber door at the end of the passage.

Wong gently tapped the heavy timber door using his boney knuckles on his left hand and the rhythmic rattles that sounded like some kind of Morse code echoed through the passageway. After a moment, faint footsteps could be heard approaching from the other side of the door followed by clanking keys unlocking the bolted door.

The door creaked open slowly and a young Chinese man who looked more like a peasant than a night guard was standing behind the door. Wong handed over some cash to the night guard and he motioned to the group to move on.

The group passed through the timber door and found themselves in a cavernous subterranean chamber with a ceiling that was at least twenty yards high. The door where they came from was located at an obscured corner of the underground chamber. There were some construction machineries and excavation tools scattered over the place and slipshod ‘Welcome’ sign boards and amateurish banners were hanging loosely on the chamber walls. It didn’t take long for the tourists to realize that there were no other people in the subterranean chamber except for the young night guard.

At the very far end of the chamber lay an ornate marble door which could have been an entrance to the tomb. Between the tourists and the elaborate marble door were clusters of stone statues depicting Chinese mythical creatures such as dragons, Kirins, heavenly turtles and phoenixes. The statues were all beautifully sculptured and they were positioned in such a manner that if one were to looked at them from above, it would appeared to the viewer that the heavenly creatures were all staring at the marble door and waiting for someone or something to emerge from the tomb. Interestingly, two soft drink vending machines were fitted near the tomb entrance, creating an unsightly view alongside the ancient stone statues.

Wong was standing in front of the tourists. He spun around and spoke enthusiastically, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the General’s Tomb.”

“Oh my god, what a sight.” Gupta grunted with despair.Henry shook his head and said, “Seems like some illegal activities are going on here.”

The tourists were utterly disappointed by the mediocre sight that was presented before them. However, most of them began to roam about the massive chamber, some posing and taking pictures with the heavenly creatures that seemed to have frozen in time.

Howard Smith paced the cold hard ground of the subterranean cavern and took some pictures with his Canon digital camera. He saw Kevin Tan and his fiancée Sarah loitering at the ornate marble door and he walked up to them.

“This place kinda gives me the creeps,” Howard said, “It ain’t look like nothing from the tourist magazines.”

“Yeah,” Kevin Tan replied, raising his eye brows, “I think we were ripped off. Big time. Thanks to Paul.”

Wong scanned the disappointed faces of the tourists. He decided to keep up to his role as a tour guide by gesturing the group to gather in front of the marble door.

“Gentlemen, this is the west wing of the General’s Tomb,” Wong said with a grin, “It’s not opened to the public yet.” He pointed to the construction machineries at the far corner of the room and chuckled, “You are lucky to see a real excavation site in China. Like Indiana Jones you know..hee..hee.”

Paul noticed that the tomb entrance was locked and he pulled Wong aside.

“Comrade, the tomb entrance seems to be locked. Can you ask your friend over there to open it?” Paul asked in mandarin.

“Hey, I can’t help with that. I promised to bring you here. I didn’t say you could go into the tomb.” Wong said curtly.

“What? You are a cheat!” Paul bellowed with a shriek and abruptly pushed Wong a step back. All eyes were now on him and Wong.

“Guys, he is not going to bring us into the tomb, the key attraction,” Paul said furiously, his sweeping hand gesturing at the marble door, “What do you think we should do?”

Mr. Park stepped forward with a frown on his face and pointed his forefinger at Wong. “You bring us in there or I will report you to the Police. Don’t cheat on us.”

Wong ignored Mr. Park’s confrontation and turned toward the tourists.

“Gentlemen, all the roads to this place are closed today. You pay good money and I bring you here,” Wong said, “now, please go and take more pictures.” He waved at the night guard to come over and continued with that perpetual smile on his face, “We are leaving in ten minutes so chop chop.” After saying that, Wong intended to walk away from the crowd and he muttered to himself in local dialect, “A bunch of fools.”

Paul heard him crystal clear and he immediately stretched out his firm hand and grabbed Wong on his shirt collar, “You son of a …”

Before Paul could spell out his expletives, he was abruptly shoved aside.

Paul realized that the night guard standing behind him was the one who pushed him over. He paused for a second. To the surprise of many, he suddenly swung a fist at the Chinese man but missed him by inches as he was forcefully held back by Howard.

“Cool off brother. There’re children here,” Howard said as he slowly released his grip on Paul, “We will report to the authority when we get back to the hotel.”

About four hundred yards above ground, deafening thunders roared like a beast and heavy snow was pouring in all directions. The sky was elephant gray and the old bunker building was hardly visible until a streak of lightning struck the bunker on its roof. Sparks flew off the zinc roof and fell to the ground. There was an excruciating buzz and all of a sudden the lamps went out.

CHAPTER 7

The fluorescent lamps illuminating the underground chamber flickered for a second or two and then there was total darkness. Pitch black engulfed the entire west wing of the General’s Tomb. Some ladies among the stunned tourists screamed and their cries of fear turned into echoes that resonated strongly in the chamber. Then there was a brief moment of silence before an outburst of clanking metals and heavy footsteps.

“Comrade Lang, where are you?” Wong asked in anxiety, “Where are the flashlights?”

Wong could hear someone moving towards him at top speed and that person was hitting an object continuously, producing a series of tapping sound, each tap louder than the previous. At that very moment, a beam of yellowish light slashed across the subterranean chamber, instantaneously brightened up part of the room. It was Lang the night guard, holding a flashlight in his left hand.

“Wong, it’s me,” Lang said in mandarin, “Don’t worry, I will take a look at the power room now.” He handed the flashlight to Wong and flipped open his cell phone. Harnessing the faint light that radiated out of his tiny LCD phone screen, Lang aimed the light beam at the marble floor and he was happy with the result. He gave Wong a thumbs-up before heading back into the darkness.

Wong beamed the yellowish flashlight on his own face and shouted “Everyone, please come here. Be careful.”

Specks and spots of lights started to appear all over the underground chamber and the dispersed light points gradually closed in at Wong. People had realized that their mobile phones could be used as mini torches, guiding them to gather around Wong who was holding on to the only decent light source in the cold, dark and eerie chamber.

“What happened? Is this normal?” Howard asked Wong.

“Don’t worry sir,” Wong said with a smile while he counted how many tourists were standing around him, “the lights will be back in a few minutes. Is everyone here?”

Mr. Chan’s eight year old son Pete was sobbing and tears were flowing down his rosy cheeks.

“Daddy, I’m scared.” Pete uttered.

“Hold onto me tight son, it’s just a blackout.” Mr. Chan assured his son and he tightened his hold on him.

It all happened gun-shot-quick. A loud crashing sound erupted and Pete’s heart went up into his throat. Many including the men yelped at the top of their lungs.

Everyone turned towards the direction of the deafening crash and all of a sudden a human figure came dashing out from the dark. Squeals and screams broke out among the tourists who thought that some kind of animal was leaping onto them. Unexpectedly, it was Lang, the Chinese night guard who almost scared the wits out of everybody.

Lang was sweaty and almost out of breath. “Sorry, I knocked down one of the statues, it is too dark” He looked at Wong and stammered in local dialect, “Wong, this is bad, the main power switch was fried…we need to take the elevator up.”

“Where is comrade Zhang and comrade Chen?” Wong asked.

“They have gone back. I am the only one here.” Lang answered.

“Damned,” Wong muttered to himself. He gestured to the tourists and said in mandarin, “Okay, please follow me closely. We are going back now.”

Realizing that some of the tourists do not speak Mandarin, Wong further elaborated in English, “No power and lights here. It is dangerous. We must go back. Come, please follow us to the elevator.”

The tourists were fuming but at the same time fully aware of the unfavorable circumstances that they were in. They could hardly wait to get out of that cold and lifeless place. In fact, most of them were glad that all the discomforts of this trip were going to end soon.

In a single line, the tourists tailed Wong and Lang along the narrow passageway leading back to the construction elevator. Wong was walking at a slower pace than before as it was complete darkness in the passage and he relied on his flashlight to beam the path ahead. Occasional exchange of grouses could be heard among the group but Wong simply paid no attention as there were other things that had preoccupied his mind.

CHAPTER 8

The hail storm struck with furious intensity. Within minutes, the wind was screaming through the dilapidated army bunker windows at more than forty knots, lashing them with stinging pellets of hail.

In sharp contrast, deep down underground, in the western annex of the legendary General’s Tomb, there was this unnerving calmness in the air and all was morbidly quiet.

The tourists were standing outside the elevator shaft and they were all looking up. A couple of emergency lamps around the elevator shaft were functional and they illuminated the small landing space with a faint yellowish glow.

The gunmetal elevator doors were half open and the entire passenger cage was stationary at about ten feet above their heads. Wong and Lang pressed all the buttons they could find near the elevator shaft but none of them was making the elevator work.

“No shit,” Howard said as he stared into the tall elevator shaft, “how high is this shaft?”

“Very high sir, something is wrong here. The elevator should have power.” Wong said with a worrying tone while he struggled with the red and green buttons on a control panel located on the left side of the elevator landing.

Paul flipped open his mobile phone, stared at its LCD screen for a second or two and then closed it back curtly, “Damn it, there’s still no signal.”

Sarah Tan, Mr. Chan and a few of the tourists tried to make calls using their mobile phones but like Paul, they were unable to get any phone signals underground.

“Why don’t we do this, I will climb up the elevator shaft,” Lang the night guard said to the group in mandarin, “and when I am up there, I will call for help.”

“It’s too dangerous,” John Chan responded in his unpolished mandarin, “I suggest we wait out here for a couple of hours. Surely someone will come to help us?”

“Oh,it..it is not..possible” Lang started to stammer as he looked away from the eyes of the tourists.

“Is there another way out of here?” Sarah Tan asked, looking at Lang gravely. Lang did not answer her.

Tour guide Wong had apparently given up hope on the buttons and switches he was meddling with and he let out a long sigh, “This is the only way in and only way out.” He glanced at Lang and continued, “We have to get out of this place, because…”