The Anomaly(48)

I realized either I hadn’t spotted these before, or that we’d changed things, somehow polluted the water, compromised this place, by bringing in stuff from the outside world.

By being here.





Chapter

28



I wasn’t especially hungry when I woke the next morning to find our area already dimly lit by a flashlight on the ground. I was cold—my clothes were still a little damp from the time in the pool—and I was sure as hell thirsty. It has long been my practice upon rising to imbibe a quantity of coffee equal to (or greater than) the volume of my own body. Ken operates a similar policy. I would, in fact, pity the fool who tried to out-caffeine us before noon, if we ever teamed up and went pro. Realizing there was no coffee was therefore an ominous start to the day.

I stood, creaking, rolling my shoulders to try to get the kinks out. The spasm in my back from Gemma’s slide down the canyon wall had faded to a dull ache. I got a measure of my thirst and informed it that what it was about to receive was all there was for now, and to be grateful. I took a sip and sluiced it slowly and thoroughly around my mouth before swallowing. I saw Ken do the same, then look dubiously at the scant third of a bottle that remained.

“Going to need a top-up trip to the pool before long,” he said.

“I don’t know whether that’s still a good idea.”

I told him what I’d noticed there in the night, though not about what Molly and I had discussed. She got up and stretched as I was updating him, and strode off by herself down the main passage toward the stone ball. I hoped this meant the talk might have helped, a little.

Ken shrugged. “If it was there last night, then it was there when we found the place,” he said. “Nothing grows that quickly. Except bamboo. Or a bar bill in Vegas with an all-female crew. Seriously. I’m still paying that one off. Plus, if you’d seen some of the shit I’ve eaten over the years, then you’d know a few single-celled organisms don’t stand a chance of fucking me up. And your gut’s been all right, hasn’t it?”

“Fine.”

“Well then.”

“On that subject,” Gemma said. We turned to find her standing with unusual diffidence a few feet away.

“What?”

“I was wondering. Should anybody require to divest themselves of waste products of the digestive process, quite soon, what’s the protocol? I’m…asking for a friend.”

“Eh?” Ken said.

“Pick a room,” I said. “And we’ll designate it the latrine. The archeologists will hate us but it’ll limit site damage. And, you know, fuck ’em. They’re not here.”

“Roger that,” she said, and set off toward one of the corridors with her backpack.

“Oh,” Ken said after a moment. “That’s what she meant.”

“Yeah. And it makes me realize we’re already dehydrated. I haven’t personally divested myself of even liquid by-products for a long time now.”

“Me neither. You really think we ought to avoid the pool?”

“I’m not drinking it again unless things get desperate. In terms of water loss, the absolute last thing you want is explosive diarrhea.”

“I do enjoy our chats, Nolan. Always have.”

Molly came running back into the room. “Guys,” she said. “Feather’s gone.”



“Feather?”

It was the fifth time Ken had called. I’d tried multiple times, too. And Molly, and Pierre.

“So where the hell is she?”

“Maybe she got an early start on going back down the shaft,” Molly said. “It’s seven thirty. It will have been light for an hour or two out there.”

“She wouldn’t have gone without telling us. Would she?”

“Maybe she tried, and we were all asleep.”

“Doubt it,” Pierre said. “I’ve been awake since four.”

“Seriously?”

He looked embarrassed. “I thought I heard something, like a thud. A couple of times. Just bad dreams. But then I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Or she got confused about the time?”

“She wears a watch,” Molly said. “She showed it to me.”

“Maybe she’s exploring,” Pierre said. “Gone to the canyon wall to see if she could dislodge those rocks. Or to check if we missed anything in the side corridors. We never actually got to the ends of those, right? Could be they’re super long and she hasn’t heard us calling.”

I thought about it. “I could buy the idea of going back to the canyon wall. Not the side corridors. Would you? By yourself?”

“If I had to.”

“But if you didn’t? With a little flashlight? And if you didn’t know how long the batteries would last?”

“Probably not.”

“She has her phone as a backup,” Ken said.

“No, she doesn’t,” Molly said. “It’s in her backpack. Which is with us.”

“Either way,” I said, “I find it hard to believe. But if she went to the end wall, it’s a straight shot down that passage. She would have heard us calling, and called back.”

“So what, then?” Molly said. She was scratching her arm, back and forth, in what looked like a nervous reaction.