Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) (27 page)

“S
he’s armed,” one of the soldiers says.

The other soldier nods. “Don’t worry, it’s just a light weapon. Nothing our armor can’t handle.”

Both of them walk forward a few paces, keeping their light on Jessica and Eva. The one in front lowers the tip of his shoulder cannon until it points directly at the two women huddled on the floor.

“Now,” Eva says.

Jessica slowly squeezes the trigger. In the darkness, fire jumps out of the barrel of her pulse rifle. A string of projectiles hit the ceiling of the tunnel just over the head of the first soldier.

He looks up in time to see the roof fall in upon him, knocking him and his companion to the floor.

Dirt and sand pour on them out of a large hole, filling the tunnel from top to bottom.

“What now?” Jessica pulls the cloth away from her mouth long enough to speak, and then quickly reapplies it. Choking dust hangs in the air.

Eva pulls on Jessica’s shirt. “This way.”

Random shots burst from the pile where the soldiers are buried, whizzing past Jessica and Eva. They drop to the floor of the tunnel, pressing their cheeks close to the ground. Jessica counts twenty shots over her head and into the wall before they stop.

A deafening silence follows.

Eva switches on her light and points it at the pile of dirt. “Looks like they stopped. Follow me.” She jumps up and sprints ten paces to the blocked entrance of the tunnel, and then stops, pointing her light at the wall. “Should be here somewhere.” Her hand runs along the smooth dirt surface. “Right here.”

Jessica catches up. “What is it?”

Eva takes two steps back. “No time to explain. Just blast a hole.” She draws a line in the dirt wall with her hand. “Start here.”

Raising the barrel of the pulse rifle, Jessica hesitates. “You’re sure the whole ceiling won’t come down on us?”

“No, but it’s our only chance.”

Holding the tip at point blank range, Jessica squeezes off the trigger and holds it for a count of five, spraying across the wall, dropping on a diagonal and back across, tracing a large “Z”. Fire jumps out of the tip of the barrel. Small projectiles bite into the wall, opening a hole large enough to jump through.

“Can you swim?” Eva says.

Jessica grins. “Like a fish.”

“Good.” Eva twists her lips to the side. “Next question. Can you freefall?”

“Freefall? What do you mean?”

Eva takes a step closer. “Exactly what I said.”

Jessica stares at her.

“Listen to me.” Eva dims the light and holds it in one hand between them so they can see each other’s eyes. Her hand reaches out and pulls Jessica’s face close. “Strap the rifle across your back so your arms are free. Count to thirty. Get a run and jump through the hole. Hold your breath before your feet leave the ground.” Eva stares into Jessica’s eyes. “Most important thing. Don’t let your arms float up away from your body. Don’t swing them. Just keep them stiff, at your sides. Think of floating in space. Arch your back. Chin up. Don’t look down. Got it?”

Jessica swallows. “Got it.”

Eva backs up, bends into a sprinter’s posture and runs through the opening, disappearing into the void beyond.

Jessica listens intently for several seconds, but there’s no sound.

A sudden movement in the tunnel jerks her attention to the left. She hears the sound of crumbling dirt.

A light pierces through the black pile of debris. One of the soldiers breaks out.

“You OK, Frank?”

Jessica slings the pulse rifle over her shoulder, tightens the strap, backs up a half dozen paces, bends her elbows and knees like a sprinter and blasts through the black opening, holding her breath at the same time.

The bottom drops out, and she goes into freefall.

M
att tries to remember.

A name, a face, anything. Was there ever a time when he did not float in the semi-liquid sea? Probably. But he can’t be sure. His gut tells him the answer is yes. There must be more to his existence than what he can see and feel.

He searches for a change or variation, some clue to who or what or where he is. But all he sees is a general pinkish glow. No smells. No taste. No sound.

Almost complete sensory deprivation.

A wave of sleep gently rolls over him, and his eyes close.

It explodes his reality.

The pinkish glow is gone, replaced by darkness. The shock wakes him up, and he opens his eyes.

The world lights up. The pink glow rushes in, causing him to make a discovery. His eyes blink open and shut, and the world goes from dark to light. He plays with it, relishing the control it gives him.

Another new sensation comes like a bolt out of the blue. Something touches him, drawing his eyes to it. He sees it.

Five fingers.

They float down and brushes against a leg.

His hand. His leg.

All of this comes as a new revelation. Soon, both his hands are moving over his own body, exploring, cataloging.

Remembering.

He has a body. Hair. A nose. Teeth.

Reaching his fingers to the back of his mouth, his stomach muscles tighten. Warm fluid bubbles up his throat and pours out over his tongue, its bitter taste a sharp contrast to the tasteless world engulfing him.

He spits the watery green liquid out of his mouth. It pools in front of him. Stirring it with his hand, he watches it float away.

The motion gives him an idea.

Moving his own arms and legs, he discovers that he can glide through the liquid. It flows past his face and body. The movement triggers a fragment of a memory.

He’s falling into a churning, white surface and gets pulled under, into darkness. With the memory in mind, his arms and legs flail until they hit a hard surface. He stops and explores it with the palm of his hand, following it in a circle.

It gives him pleasure to move through the liquid, running his hands along the smooth surface. But then it raises a question in his mind.

What is on the other side of the surface?

Leaning in close, he presses his forehead against it and squints his eyes, trying to see into it or through it. Vague shapes appear off in the distance, some blue and others green. He wants to get closer to the shapes, to explore them with his hands, to understand what they are.

But the smooth inner surface holds him back.

Without understanding why, both hands bend into fists and start to bang against the glass. Over and over he hits the side until the sound of his fists registers like a drum in his ears. Bringing his head close to the glass once again, he bumps it gently, and then with more and more force, exulting in the vibrations it sends through his body and the adrenaline rush that comes with it.

His senses now awakened, he swims through the tank, looking for a way out.

A
fter the initial rush of falling into darkness, Jessica tries to remember what Eva told her.

Don’t let your arms separate from your body. Arch your back.

Don’t look down.

That last instruction was meaningless. Jessica has no idea which way is down.

She stops counting after five long seconds of freefall through the black void and closes her eyes.

Impact with the water, when it finally comes, is a surprise. She goes in deep. The strap of the pulse rifle pulls hard against her chest, squeezing out the air left in her lungs. When her body slows its descent, she lifts her arms up and claws her way to the surface. But the water works against her, sweeping her to the side and pulling her deeper into the darkness.

Take a big gulp of air on the way down.

That hadn’t been part of Eva’s instructions, but Jessica wishes it had. Without a light, it’s impossible to judge how deep she might be. But without air, nothing else matters.

She makes an attempt at swimming against the current, and then, sensing the resistance, gives up, turns her body and swims in the opposite direction,
with
the current. Her arms and legs shoot out like a frog’s and pull back in, close to her body.

Her mind screams for air, and she is soon spent, utterly exhausted. Her body goes limp, but her mind races.

Where is Eva?

Saturated in darkness and cold, she no longer has the strength to keep her eyes open.

Just As they drop shut, a light appears. And then another. Strong arms grab her body on each side and pull her through the water. A soft cup goes over her face, sealing against her skin from her forehead to her chin. Something warm blows against her lips. She opens her mouth, taking the air in by gulps until she is light-headed.

A garbled voice plays against her ears. “Slow down. Breathe easy. Don’t hyperventilate.”

Her eyes open, and two beams of light sweep past a dark shadow that looks like a massive manta ray. She scans from side to side and identifies two men, one on each side, pulling her toward the dark form.

Twenty meters ahead, two other men guide Eva up into the belly of the shadow.

Pulling the warm air into her lungs, Jessica swims with the men until they come to the underside of what now appears to be a waiting submersible. A large hole opens up, and the men push her through it. She enters and ascends up a short tube. At last, her face breaks through the surface. Hands pull her out, laying her on the floor next to Eva.

Someone pulls the mask off her face.

The smell of human sweat is overpowering.

Eva turns to her with a weak smile. “Glad you made it. I had my worries about whether you would.” Her face turns up to the men standing. “As soon as Kane and Dallas are out, let’s go.”

The first of the two men that helped Jessica comes out of the water.

“Saw some lights back in the cave,” he says. “They’re coming this way. Fast.”

“Where’s Kane?” Eva says.

One of the men that pulled Jessica from the water points down the diving tube. “Should be right behind me.”

An explosion rocks the ship from below. All of them crowd the edge of the diving lock and look into the water. A man’s face stares up at them. The lower half of his body is gone except for hanging shreds of skin, tendons and muscle. He reaches a hand up in desperation, but another explosion and a flash of light catches him in the chest. Blood and water burst up through the tube and out of the opening.

A man next to Jessica jumps up and slams the palm of his hand against a large red button on the wall. The diving lock seals shut like an articulated camera eye, and the ship lurches forward.

“Poor Kane,” one of the men says.

Two more explosions rock the ship, one overhead and one squarely in the side.

Jessica freezes.

“Don’t worry.” Eva reaches out to steady Jessica, grabs the lowest rung of a ladder welded to the wall and pulls herself to her feet. “Carbonite armor is stronger than shoulder cannons.” She climbs up the ladder through an open hatch overhead, her voice trailing behind. “Go deep. Before they can lock on our position from the air.”

Air bleeds from a nearby valve. Pain presses on Jessica’s ears, and she swallows a couple of times to equalize the pressure.

Eva’s voice drops through the hatch. “Come with me.”

Jessica grabs the ladder, pulls herself to her feet and crawls up.