The Skull Hunter, 6
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They went back to dragging the screaming man to the hole. I took my other pistol and fired. The bullet struck one of the figures in the shoulder, spinning it around. I fired again, and it squealed with rage, falling to its knees. The others released the man and grabbed the wounded figure. They quickly jumped into the manhole, and I continued firing at them until my pistol was empty. A sudden burst of steam exploded from the hole, and all was silent once more.
I got on my feet and ran to the man they had been dragging. “Are you all right?” I asked, but the man was quivering in terror either unwilling or unable to speak.
Hearing footsteps behind me I whipped around ready for anything when I saw the old man I had been talking to earlier.
“Now you know the horror we tend to every day. Go home and forget this place,” he said turning away.
“Wait, I can’t leave. Is that what happened to Sam? Did those things get him?”
“The answers you seek are in there,” he said pointing to the manhole. “But be aware that the devil himself lives beneath our feet. If you go in there, you may find your answer, but if you’re dead, whom will you tell?” The old man walked away and disappeared in the shadows of the alley.
“Damn,” I said as my options quickly dwindled away. I picked up my other pistol off the ground and headed for my car. I opened up the trunk, took off my trench coat, and threw it inside. I had come prepared for a fight. Inside the trunk was a shotgun with a shoulder belt of ammunition. I slung it across my shoulders. I reloaded both pistols and placed them into a belt holster that I cinched around my waist. Four extra clips were placed into a separate pouch. A long knife was placed in a hanging sheath and a smaller one I strapped to my ankle. I took my hat off, slicked back my hair, and then set it squarely back on my head. Closing the trunk, I walked toward the hole.
As I passed the man, who was still in the road shaking, he tugged at my pant leg. “Thank you... Oh thank you for saving my life,” he said in a quivering voice.
“Yeah,” I answered reaching into my front pocket. “Here are the keys to the car. If I don’t come back, it’s yours.”
He looked at me dumbfounded. I stopped at the manhole as the steam poured out. Slinging the shotgun over my shoulder, I draped my legs over the side, feeling for the ladder with my feet. Slowly I began descending into the darkness.
The steam dissipated about half way down as the temperature seemed to rise the farther I got. Reaching the bottom of the shaft, there was a small dim light bulb attached to the wall. I quickly put my shotgun to my shoulder ready for an attack, but there was nothing there. All I heard was the steady stream of water that ran down a narrow trench.
The tunnel was lined with bricks and metal conduits marked for gas and waterlines stretched about midway up the arced walls. Dim lights were evenly spaced along the ceiling going in each direction. I had no clue which way the dark figures had gone. I slowly, cautiously moved down the tunnel looking for clues. I grabbed my knife from its sheath and made periodic scratches on the bricks. The tunnels under Chicago twisted and turned for miles. The last thing I wanted to do was get hopelessly lost.
I walked for several minutes and went to mark the wall when I noticed a fresh reddish blue smudge. It was wet and running down the brick. It looked like blood that had started thickened in the warm moist air. It must have been from the creature I shot. I knew I was on the right path and continued on for several more minutes. Above me there were tunnels leading back to the surface with dim rays of morning sunlight glowing through the steam.
As I passed one of the exits, I heard something rustling behind me. I swung my shotgun around, but nothing was there except for a few rats running along the thin ledge by the constant stream of waste. The smell was nauseating, and I was glad I hadn’t had time for breakfast.
I heard rustling again as I continued down the tunnel. Suddenly the light bulb behind me shattered plunging me into darkness. I whirled around firing the shotgun. In the split second of the blast, I saw a large figure with its outstretched arms reaching for me.
It tore the shotgun from my hands. Something grabbed me from behind and thrust what felt like a knee painfully into the center of my back. Still holding my knife, I slashed at the darkness until I felt it plunge into something solid. A scream echoed through the tunnel as I felt a solid blow strike the back of my head. I fell to my knees fighting stay conscious, but it felt like a thousand fists were hitting me until consciousness faded.
When I awoke, I was lying on my back with my hands bound behind me. My eyes slowly opened to the flickering light of torches. I was in some sort of brick-lined chamber with several tunnels branching from it. The domed ceiling was at least twelve feet above my head. A large metal pipe ran floor to ceiling in the middle of the room, and several boxes with conduits running to them were attached to the walls near the other tunnels.
Slowly I managed to get to my knees and was about to try and stand when several of the dark figures entered through the other tunnels. There must have been twenty or more of them as they stood in dark cloaks along the rounded walls, their arms folded. It was then that I noticed my ammunition belt was gone along with my knife and hat. I could still feel the smaller knife sheathed to my ankle, but I wasn’t sure if the knife was still in it. I lowered my butt onto my calves, trying to reach for my pants leg when a voice boomed through chamber.
“I see we have a visitor,” the voice announced in a deep throaty tone. I squinted my eyes against the glare of the torches and saw a thin shadow move slowly down brick stairs that wound up the chamber. “It is so seldom that we have the privilege of welcoming someone new to our home.”
“If this is how you treat your guests, I understand why,” I said, still trying to reach the small knife.
The slim figure laughed as it descended around the stairs. “Take my word for it, you are receiving the royal treatment, Mr. Vargo, or would you rather be called The Skull Hunter. It has such an interesting ring to it — The Skull Hunter — I think I like that.”
“Where am I,” I shouted as I watched him reach the bottom of the stairs. “Who are you and what have you done with Sam King?”
“Here you do not ask questions, Skull Hunter. Here you do as you’re told, but I will allow you this one breach in protocol and answer your questions.”
As he spoke, he walked in large circle around me. His cloak was adorned with colorful stitching around the hem and along his sleeves. A large hood covered his head so I couldn’t get a good look at his face, only glimpses of the side, which was a cold grey.
“We are called my many names in many languages. Here, in your country, we are known as The Changed. We are an ancient race of people who have taken to living beneath the ground. Over the millennia we have spread through the globe living just below you unsuspecting surface dwellers.”
“Why would you want to live in such a damp. dark place?”
“It was our ancestors who moved underground to flee from the ravages of marauding hordes who came to our villages to steal our women and children. In time, the children became used to living underground, and as generations passed, their descendants became sensitive to the sunlight.
“Even after the threat was long past they were unable to return to your world. Since a thousand years before your earliest ancestor walked, we have been living away from the sun’s deadly light. Our people have, as all people do, spread out to the rest of the world.”
“Look, I didn’t come her for a history lesson... Where is Sam?” I said this as I finally had reached the small knife and was beginning to cut at the rope around my wrists. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible so the figures around me wouldn’t notice. The dark man pointed to one of the figures who reached inside a tunnel and pulled out Sam. They walked to where I was kneeling and forced Sam down beside me.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Vargo?” Sam asked.
“I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” I said, smiling. “Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of this.”
“How?” Sam looked at me and then at the figures around us.
“I’m working on it.”
The dark man stopped and stared at us. “A friendly reunion, how nice.”
I had almost cut through my bonds and was trying to stall for time. “So, do you have a name or do I just call you ugly?”
“A poor attempt a subterfuge, sir. I know that you at this very moment cutting away at your bonds.” He panned his arm across the room. “Where is it you plan to go once you are free?” he motioned to two of the others who walked to us. One of them ripped the knife from my hand while the other removed Sam’s rope then removed mine.
“There, is that better? I hope you now understand the futility of escape.”
“Okay, but what I don’t understand is why you steal human beings from the surface.”
“Very simple: we eat them.” The dark man said, as he stepped forward removing the hood from his cloak. His face was almost blue and his eyes were pale grey, lacking any pupils. Thick veins bulged across his head like wiggling snakes. He bared his bright white teeth as he grinned at us.
Sam looked at me in horror as all the blood drained from his face. I could see him start to shake at the thought of becoming lunch for these grotesque creatures. I wasn’t very happy with the prospect, either, as my mind kept looking for some way out of there.
“You see, living underground has its advantages as well as its disadvantages. We found out that the sun does more than just warm the planet and give light. There is something in the light that all living creatures need to survive. Long ago we found out that by consuming the flesh of humans we could absorb this nutrient that we lack.” He spoke in such a matter-of-fact manner, that it was like anyone else speaking about eating a chicken.
“Now I understand why you hang around Rummer’s Alley. Who cares if some wino disappears?”
“Exactly. In fact, we are providing a type of service to the community: ridding them of the dregs of society.”
“So does everyone get this speech or are we just lucky?”
“No, Mr. Skull Hunter, you are special. You see there is a group of people... a committee if you will... that is not very pleased with your recent activity. They asked us to get involved in a sort of quid-pro-quo situation. When we found out that Mr. King was a friend of yours, it was a simple matter to use him as a lure. And here you are.”
This was the second time I had heard of this committee. First it was Joshua Kain, and now this guy. Whoever the committee was, they were starting to get on my nerves. “Great, well now that you got me what do you plan to do with me?”
“With you, nothing. We will deliver you to the committee as agreed. Mr. King however, is a different matter. He is of no further use to us except in one other capacity. It is a dreadful business I know, but such is the way of life.” He motioned to the two men beside us and they grabbed Sam. He struggled but their grip was too strong. “Take him to the processing chamber.”
“The hell you will!” I screamed as I tackled one of the men, knocking him to the ground. He rolled hissing through drool-soaked teeth. The other one released Sam to strike me. I ducked just in time for the blow to miss my head. I ran for the tube in the middle of the room. On the tube was a large wheel attached to a valve. A sign on the pipe said ‘Caution Gas Line’. Moving quickly I turned the wheel clockwise to shut down the valve. The needle on a gage near the pipe began to rise as the enormous pressure from the gas began to build.
“Stop him,” boomed a voice as all the cloaked men in the room rushed towards me.
“Sam, get out of here. This thing’s going to blow,” I called out, heading for the brick stairway, trying to evade the cloaked figures.
“But...”
“No buts. Just get out of here!”
Sam ran into one of the tunnels just as the men swarmed on top of me. They ripped at my clothes tearing my flesh. All I saw was row after row of snarling white teeth. I fought with every ounce of strength trying to get up the brick staircase. I looked down and saw the grey man moving towards the valve.
That is when I saw a glint of metal near the entrance of one of the tunnels. I rolled to the edge of the stairs and fell several feet to the floor below. The horde of creatures screamed as they rushed after me. I ran towards what I had seen and was shocked to find my shotgun. I knew I had one chance to survive. I fired quickly into the crowd of creatures who were almost upon me; then took aim directly at the gas pipe.
Sam wound his way through the shadowy tunnels until he saw daylight coming through a manhole cover above him. He quickly pulled his tired body up the metal ladder. Using every ounce of strength he had left he heaved the heavy cover upwards just enough for him to crawl out. Sam was out of breath and exhausted, as he lay for moment in the bright light of day.
Suddenly the ground beneath him shook violently. He jumped to his feet just in time as a huge fireball lifted the manhole cover off the ground, throwing it high into the air. All around him, flames leaped up from the sewer grates as more covers exploded upward. The force of the blast blew out shop windows for blocks. Sam fell backwards onto the hard road. His ears were ringing from the explosion. Clouds of billowing black smoke rose from the manholes and grates as Sam gathered himself.
He moved slowly towards one of the holes waving the smoke from his eyes. “Mr. Vargo... Mr. Vargo...
Copyright © 2006 by S. Michael Leier
