James Axler – Demons of Eden

So I see , responded Ryan. What other way is there ?

At the base of the hill there are a series of tunnels and passages, running adjacent, but not connected to the cavern. I have never been in them, but

Ryan interrupted. Then how will we keep from becoming lost ?

We must rely on Blood-sniffer to guide us.

Ryan glanced over at the wolf. It cocked its head at him. He didn’t care for the prospect, but unless they took the wolfs way in, they might as well give up the whole attempt to seize Sisoka.

We’ll try it.

Aloud, in a whisper, Ryan explained the plan to J.B., concluding by saying, “You can stay here if you want. Wouldn’t blame you.”

“I’m going.”

The wolf slunk down the forested slope on a circuitous route away from the encampment and led them into a gully that opened up on a shallow ford at the river. The water was barely hip deep, and the pebble-spotted hump of a sandbar thrust up from the surface at the midway point.

The opposite bank was cut by a small streambed debouching from the river. It was almost dry at that time of year, the high banks hiding the encampment from them as they approached it at an oblique angle.

They moved down the streambed in close single file, treading on the muddy, rocky ground as carefully and as quietly as they could. Their path ended at a dark cleft, wide and tall enough for a human to enter.

The wolf paused before the mawlike opening, then it crept into the darkness. Joe, Ryan and J.B., weapons in hand, followed. After a few feet they were in absolute, impenetrable blackness. J.B. turned on his hand torch, startling everyone, including the wolf, with the bright white rod of light.

“What is this place?” J.B. demanded softly.

The flashlight beam glinted off mineral deposits embedded in the rough wallssilvery granite, brilliant quartz and green-speckled limestone. By the light they saw the walls were decorated with faded, crude paintings and carvings, representations of bizarre figures and shapes. J.B. paused to examine one of the paintings, which depicted some kind of horse-like, squat-bodied animal with two horns on its nose.

The tunnel was obviously very old. The brooding, unbroken silence bore down on it like the pressure of vast, invisible hands.

The wolf trotted deliberately forward, the tunnel gaining a slight incline. The three men followed, occasionally confused by their own writhing shadows. The passageway forked, and the wolf unhesitatingly took the left-hand path.

They moved after Blood-sniffer, wincing at the clink and crunch of stones beneath their feet. They hadn’t gone far when Joe lurched to a halt, biting back a startled exclamation. Resting atop a shelf of rock, at eye level, was a yellow-brown skull. Looking over his shoulder, Ryan saw it wasn’t a human skull, but that of an animal, one he had never seen. Feline in shape, it was twice the size of a normal panther’s, and two great fangs, six inches in length, curved down from the upper jaw. Word-pictures were painted across the brow. The sight of the skull raised Ryan’s nape hairs and stirred to life old stories and even personal experiences with cave-dwelling monsters.

The tense, silent progress through the tunnel continued. Ryan tried to keep other thoughts, other worries and fears, from intruding into his single-minded march, but a few penetrated his guard. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he, J.B. and Joe were blithely striding through a death trap.

He sneered at his growing dread, but when he hazarded a swift backward glance, he glimpsedor thought he dida shadow shifting in the gloom. Then he heard the faint sound of a stealthy footfall.

Aloud he said, “We’re being followed”

Even as the words left his lips, Blood-sniffer acted. The wolf whirled and bounded back in the direction they had come in an explosion of hair-trigger reflexes and steel-spring speed. Its heavy body was a shaggy battering ram that knocked Joe down, slammed Ryan to one side and sent the flashlight flying from J.B.’s hand.

” Knew it!” J.B. said as the hand torch clattered and smashed out against the rocky tunnel floor.