Part 88 (1/2)

I moved forward and the darkness closed around me. It was surprisingly cold, surprisingly damp. Like the way you'd imagine a dungeon would feel. Clammy and wrong. Immediately, a part of my mind said, f.u.c.k this.

Seriously, I wanted to turn right around and run the h.e.l.l out of there.

Yeah, I said run.

Understand something here-I don't spook easily. Usually when something's weird and violent and mysterious, I want to go grab it by the throat, wrestle it to the ground, and wail on it until it makes sense. A somewhat Neanderthal approach, I grant you, but it's worked for me in a lot of very bizarre situations. This one, though, had a different feel to it.

I didn't get the impression that a mixed group of Taliban and al-Qaeda thugs were lurking behind a rock ready to spring on this blue-eyed, blond-haired agent of the Great Satan. Nor did I have the feeling that Doctor Doom or Lex Luthor was watching me on video cameras from the safety of a secret lair, one hand stroking a white cat, the other holding a detonator that would send Mama Ledger's favorite son to see Jesus on a mushroom

cloud.

Without understanding a single thing about what was going

on-or what was inside that cave-I knew for sure that this was

not going to be anything I'd faced before. Don't ask me how I

knew that. But I was absolutely sure.

And that scared the living s.h.i.+t out of me.

Icy lines of sweat trickled down my back and my mouth kept

going dry.

I moved deeper into the cave, leaving all traces of daylight

behind. We'd brought night-vision gear with us, but the electronics on that were as fried as the computers and radio. The path was more obstructed than I expected, with rocks

thrusting out over the sandy walkway and a few unexpected

deadfalls.A man running in the dark would be in serious trouble. Sweat stung my eyes and I dragged a forearm across my face. And that's when the voice spoke.