Clickers III (13 page)

Rigiri,” Susan murmured.

Mount Rigiri was the small mountain in the center of the island that had, thus far, lain unexplored to modern science until recently when a small team of scientists somehow managed to sneak on to the island and trek inland on an expedition. They’d alerted Susan’s team on the nearby island of Pohnpei of the findings. Susan had, in turn, called Ed in Hawaii. It was those phone calls that had opened the gates to the scientific community.

“Those carvings do bear an uncanny resemblance to the Dark Ones, don’t they?” Wade agreed.

Jennifer had only seen the photos, taken by the team who had made the initial discovery. She had yet to venture into the lush jungle to see for herself. She’d spent much of her time along the island’s south shore gathering specimens and venturing a little bit inland to explore a small lake where she’d discovered several new amphibian species. The animal and plant life on Naranu was simply amazing. Some of it was highly toxic—one of the natives had warned them of a giant orb-weaving spider that grew to the size of a dinner plate and possessed venom strong enough to kill a man within seconds—but thus far they had yet to run into anything truly dangerous. As professionals, they had all been extremely cautious. Jennifer had handled her specimens with gloves and had been careful to not allow skin contact with any of them, especially the frog specimen she’d found, which had resembled a poison arrow dart frog.

Ed looked grave. In addition to his background in Paleovertebrates, he was a herpetologist, with a specialty in prehistoric reptiles and amphibians, not dinosaurs per se, but the links between dinosaurs and modern day reptiles and amphibians. It had been Ed that had discovered and named
Titanaboa
, a prehistoric anaconda that had grown to a length of sixty feet in the South American jungle. Steinhardt had also worked with a team of scientists during the Clickers/Dark Ones invasion a few years ago and held a keen interest in the physiology of the Dark Ones. Jennifer was adamant that if he had the capability, he’d study one in a controlled environment.

“The Dark Ones,” he said, “possess a cunning that is unprecedented in my field. Reptiles and amphibians are, by nature, solitary creatures. Their intelligence rating is the most primitive of all the land-dwelling vertebrates. Komodo Dragons are an exception to this rule; evidence suggests they not only hunt in packs, but they communicate with each other in a pack mentality. Pack leader instructing the lesser members of his pack in the hunt, so to speak. They’ve also been known to intentionally startle pregnant deer to induce miscarriage, which they then proceed to eat. ”

Jennifer nodded. “I’ve read about the reports. And the article in
National Geographic
.”

“The Dark Ones are human-like in their reasoning capability,” Dr. Steinhardt continued. “We’re still learning about them. The few remains we were able to preserve from the DC event has yielded much information. Their physiology is unlike anything we’ve ever seen.”

“You can say that again,” Jennifer muttered. “And there’s that new Clicker to think about, as well—the black one that killed the vegetation topside. Is it a mutant? A one-off genetic freak? Or are there more of them?”

She cast a backward glance where they’d come. So far so good; there were still no sounds of pursuit. Apparently noticing Jennifer’s nervousness, Keoni gestured down the corridor. “We should get moving.” He set off down the tunnel. The others resumed behind him. Jennifer watched the flashlight beam grow dimmer.

“Where are we going?” Wade asked.

“We’re going to the High Priest’s quarters,” Keoni answered. “These tunnels empty out in the cellars of half a dozen homes in the village, all belonging to tribal elders. We’ll talk to Josel Buada, the High Priest. Besides, I’m sure the tribal chiefs are in the process of getting an evacuation plan in action.”

“Evacuation plan?” Susan asked.

Keoni shrugged. “Yeah, they told me once that they’ve got an emergency evacuation plan. I don’t know what that’s all about. I always assumed it was due to the volcano.”

“Volcano?” Jennifer asked. “What volcano?”

Not pausing in his stride, Keoni turned around and grinned. “The god that sleeps beneath Mount Rigiri? That’s their volcano. It’s blown a few puffs of smoke in the last few hundred years, and some scientists think it last blew its top a few million years ago. Might be time for another big blow up, don’t you think?” He faced forward again.

Dr. Steinhardt nodded. He smoothed his long gray hair back from his forehead. “You might have a point. I’ve heard there’s been a lot of seismic activity in this part of the South Pacific lately. That would indicate something’s brewing below.”

“Maybe their god is waking up, after all,” Jennifer mused.

“Maybe the Dark Ones are their harbingers,” Wade added. “They show up, attracted by the warming waters or the seismic activity—and

that signals another eruption.”

Susan went pale. “My God…”

Jennifer noticed Dr. Ehart’s expression. “What?”

“The natives believe they’re guardians to their god,” Susan reiterated. “The god sleeps beneath the island, has lain there since the dawn of time.”

“Yeah, and?” Wade looked impatient.

“The carvings on the wall of Rigiri suggest depictions of the Dark Ones,” Susan continued. “And the way the natives were ambivalent to us…their cautions and strange behavior…” She looked at Dr. Steinhardt. “They really
were
warning us.”

Ed looked like he might be about to get sick.

Jennifer put the connection together. “The natives worship the Dark Ones?”

“No.” Susan regarded them all. “They do the Dark Ones’ bidding.”

Jennifer blinked in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“The Dark Ones worship the god that sleeps beneath the island,” Susan said, her voice heavy with dread. “Those carvings on the wall…some depict the Dark Ones…others depict…something else…a squid-headed monstrosity.”

“So…the natives have been doing the Dark Ones’ bidding,” Ed repeated. His voice was low, soft. His eyes reflected contemplation of what Susan was insinuating. “They’ve been protecting them. That’s why they’ve been keeping people off this island for so long.”

“
Oi Sole, kefe!
” Keoni muttered.

Jennifer had no idea what Keoni had just said, but she had to imagine it was some kind of Samoan profanity. The only Samoan curse word she knew was
palagi
, the term he’d directed toward Susan earlier back at the command center.
Palagi
was derogatory slang for non-native white people. It was obvious he was making some kind of connection with what Susan was saying.

“They’ve been like this for a reason,” he said, mostly to himself. “Other island people…never understood why Naranu people were so secretive…so fierce in their defense of this island. They kept other people away from the island because the Dark Ones ordered them to.”

“So why didn’t they attack us?” Jennifer asked. “I mean, sure, they warned us. Suggested we leave. But they didn’t outright attack us. What stopped them?”

“Maybe they knew they wouldn’t have to,” Wade sug-gested. “Maybe they already knew the Dark Ones were coming.”

Jennifer shook her head. “No, that doesn’t seem right. If that were so, then—”

There was a rumbling. Dirt drifted down from the ceiling as the earth shook. Jennifer’s heart leaped in her throat as she reached out to steady herself. From some-where above ground came several guttural roars followed by the sound of hissing. Somewhere in those sounds were screams of agony. Of pain. Fear. Death. Then came the all-too familiar noise.

CLICK-CLICK! CLICK-CLICK! CLICK-CLICK!

“Dark Ones and Clickers,” Wade whispered. “They must have found some of the rest of our team.”

Keoni grew pale. “Those aren’t
palagi
. They’re Naranu-ans.
Ga’o!
” He turned to Susan. “And you’re right. They’ve been keeping others off this island at the Dark Ones bidding, but for whatever reason, they failed with our expedition.”

“And the natives are paying for it now,” Ed said. “With their lives.”

There was a noise from behind them. It was faint, barely audible, but the silence of the tunnels amplified the slightest sound perfectly. They all turned around. Jennifer tensed up. The sound was unmistakable.

Footsteps. Heading down the tunnel toward them.

“Let’s go,” Dr. Steinhardt said, his voice still low. “We’re far enough away that they might not hear which direction we go. Come on, let’s move.”

Keoni leaped into action. He motioned them forward and they dived down the tunnel as one solid unit, Keoni’s fading flashlight illuminating the way.

The briefing that Amethyst gave Tony and Clark after they were airborne was short, to the point, and primarily directed at Tony. Clark paid close attention, soaking it all in, as they told Tony what his role would be. Tony didn’t seem to take the mission’s sit-rep seriously. He cracked jokes, flirted with Ruby, and at one point got a little smile out of her. Not so with the other three. Those guys were as hard as nails. Eventually, the ex-hitman seemed to settle into his new role. Amethyst explained that Tony was one of seven special individuals who were best equipped to deal with this crisis, and that he was the only one of The Seven who the organization could find. The other six appeared to be missing. Clark tried to focus and struggled to pay attention, but his attention soon began to drift.

Clark had remained calm as they were escorted out of Tony’s condo and whisked to a waiting car—a black, nondescript sport utility vehicle—which took them to the Phoenix International Airport. Once there, they’d driven to a secure location where they boarded a private jet. No need to bother with airport security in this section of the runway. Clark had been to this airport numerous times when Air Force One had touched down during his past life as a Secret Service agent. The Black Lodge group seemed to enjoy the same privileges and received the same treatment from the airport staff on the ground.

Once in the air, Clark had taken in his surroundings. The plane they were in was a Learjet 31A. Nice plane. Fast. Efficient. Under the radar. Clark had no idea how they were going to land the goddamn thing on Naranu, but Ruby answered that question for them during the brief sit-rep. “We will touch down on the north side of the island where there’s a small landing strip we maintain.”

“You guys maintain their airport?”

“On the contrary,” Ruby said. “Naranu doesn’t have an official airport. The landing strip I speak of is private and is in a remote part of the island. Most of the inhabitants don’t know of its existence.”

“These people don’t even maintain their own fucking airport?” Tony had asked. “What else don’t they maintain? Do they at least have their own resort hotels? Because when this shit’s over, I want a weekend at a resort. Five star all the way.”

“I’m sorry, but Naranu is not the kind of island people vacation at.”

“Will we get to eat once we get there? ‘Cause if they plan to feed us, I don’t eat that weird shit those island people eat. You know, monkey brains and fried spiders and birds nest soup and shit like that.”

Clark had listened to Tony’s banter and monitored the agent’s response to it. Then Onyx had turned his attention to him. The big man told Clark that he’d accompany Tony to the Naranu chief’s home. “Although you are not one of the seven, you did indeed fight the Clickers and the Dark Ones. Your military training and your past dealings with these creatures will be an unexpected asset in this situation.”

“What makes you think my training will be of any use to you?” Clark asked. With the exception of Ruby telling the other Black Lodge agents about his plans to kill former Secretary of State Donald Barker, the agents had not said one word to each other or to Tony about Clark’s background. Clark had no idea if they even knew the full extent of his background.

“Oh, come now. I thought we were done with this.” Sighing as if bored, Onyx approached Clark and took his hand. He held it in his own and squeezed, his eyes never leaving Clark’s. Then he said, “You’re Special Agent Clark Arroyo. You’re a retired Secret Service Agent. You killed President Jeffrey Tyler during the attack on Washington DC.”

Tony, who was across the aisle, turned toward him. “You
shot
that crazy fucker?”

“I shot him. I didn’t kill him though. I killed a fellow agent named Walpow, but Tyler was still alive.”

“Hell, even still, when this shit’s over, I’m buying you a drink! Hell, I’ll buy you a night on the Vegas strip! Anything you want, it’s yours! Gambling, pussy, dope, you name it!”

Both men ignored him. Ruby just shook her head. Amethyst and Diamond sat near the front, huddled together and apparently oblivious to anything going on around them. Their heads were bowed and almost touching. They had their eyes closed and their expressions showed intense concentration, as if they were meditating. Their foreheads and cheeks were bathed in sweat.