Sinkhole by Deborah Jackson

Author:Deborah Jackson [Jackson, Deborah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2012-11-28T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-nine

Kat waited as Megan gazed at the hieroglyphs, her brow etched and furrowed with creases and lines.

“What? What is it, Megan?”

“Nothing. Just trying to read this.”

Megan wouldn’t meet her gaze. What had she found? What could be worse than the situation they were already in? Or the confessions they’d just made?

“I don’t care how bad it is, you have to tell me.”

Megan fumbled a hand through her hair, as if she was still considering, then with a whispered sigh turned to Kat. “It might not be anything. This hieroglyph has only recently been translated. And my colleague could very well be wrong about the translation.” She pointed at the strange falling figure, oddly like a man parachuting from an airplane.

“Tell me what it might be then.”

“She thought it might refer to a catastrophe. An earthquake, a hurricane—anything that wipes out a population. A cataclysm.”

Kat took the flashlight from Megan’s hand and directed it toward the field of human skeletons beyond the nearest pillar. “Something devastating wiped them out? It must have been gas. Maybe there was volcanic activity on the surface during their burial rituals. But how did they write about it, then, if they’d all been asphyxiated?”

“That’s just it. I think someone wrote this while he was dying. The glyph is shaky, not as precise as the others in the text. It’s almost like he was trying to leave a warning.”

“But,” said Kat, “it’s doubtful he could do that if he were dying from volcanic gas. It works quickly. He wouldn’t have had time to carve a glyph.”

“You wouldn’t think so,” said Megan.

“Well, I don’t think we need to worry about a catastrophe. Whatever happened here happened a long time ago. We still have enough oxygen to protect us from a gas leak. The only thing we should concern ourselves with is getting back to the surface.”

Megan nodded. “And perhaps bringing some of these artifacts with us.”

Kat flicked the flashlight back toward Megan. “If we find an exit, we’re not going to burden ourselves with relics. That would be something for another time.”

“Of course,” Megan said instantaneously, shielding her face from the light. “It’s just, this is such an amazing discovery. I feel like Howard Carter or Lord Carnarvon.”

“Yes,” said Kat. “You probably do. But remember, Lord Carnarvon died. And I’m not going to let that happen to you.” She reached out and gave Megan’s hand a squeeze.

Megan smiled and returned the gesture. It seemed she’d conquered her fear of human contact, at least with Kat.

“We’re back,” said a gruffly familiar voice behind them. “Did you miss us?”

“Every minute,” said Kat, releasing Megan’s hand and turning toward the breakdown hill. Ray was staggering under the weight of two packs and three rebreathers. Pete had had the good grace to carry one extra pack along with his own rebreather. The increased illumination from his helmet light was an added comfort.

“So what did you find?” he asked. “Has Megan uncovered the secret of the hidden stash?”

Megan had returned to her

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