Page 44 of Hollow Trace

“The Devil’s Throat.”

“Afraid so.”

Quinn nodded, glancing at Scout, eyes a bit wild before he pushed out a breath and rolled his shoulders. “Brea’s inside that mountain.”

Scout eased her chair back, then stood, brushing her hand across his as she glanced at Neve, then at the rest of her teammates. “Then, it’s time to break out the rappelling gear because come midnight, we’re going underground.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hell.

At least, this is what Scout assumed Hell would be like — a complete absence of light. The temperature slowly climbing with every foot they descended, turning the already thick, humid air into a heavy layer of stale, warm soup. Water dripped down the walls, echoing up the shaft, as she slowly rappelled into the heart of the Devil’s Throat.

The scent of old wood and wet rock saturated the air, the metal frame of the ancient elevator shaft adding a metallic tang to the aroma. Expectation weighed on her shoulders, and she knew, despite his claims, a part of Quinn would be lost if they didn’t get Brea out alive.

Scout slowed her near-silent descent, nothing but the raspy hiss of rope through carabiners and the slide of fabric across rifle barrels sounding around her. Her boots hit the next metal platform, a hushed clang ringing through the dark as she grabbed ahold of a steel crossbeam, shuffling to one side as the rest of her team descended to the catwalk. Their weak, red LEDs barely illuminated more than a foot of distance. Just enough for Zadie to snap a mesh-network node beside their next anchor point — connect their comms to the main relay outside the entrance — as Coulter secured the second line, then heaved it over the side.

It slithered out of the bag, dropping into the darkness, the end snapping once it reached its limit. Coulter double-checked the attachment point, then waved Scout on. She waited until Zadie had checked their comms, her voice sounding in Scout’s earpiece before she released her descender, clipped it to the new line, then stepped backwards into the void.

Air whistled up the funnel, the occasional flutter of leathery wings rustling past her as she lowered deeper into the shaft.

It took two more pitches to reach the bottom—the last rope coiled on top of the metal cage roof with the end trailing down one side. Scout landed with a dull thud, nearly slipping off when her boots slid on the thick layer of grease, rock dust, and water covering the steel bonnet. She placed one hand on the wall, using it to help keep her balance as she made room for Quinn.

He dropped down beside her a few seconds later, looking incredibly stable as he straddled the roof, running his hands along the top in search of the escape hatch. It only took him a moment to find the latch. But years of rust and water had obviously cemented the damn thing shut.

Quinn didn’t waste any time. He simply removed the rabbit tool from his kit, wedged the compact, hydraulic spreader between the hatch and the frame and started pumping the handle. Under thirty seconds later, the metal groaned, the hatch bowing inward. Another ten, and it hinged open, slamming against the roof before swinging back, finally stopping to hang straight down.

Scout smiled. Quinn never ceased to amaze her — how he’d fit into the team as if he’d been running maneuvers with them for years. The same way Coulter had slotted in as if he’d always been there. She just hoped this wouldn’t be Quinn’s last mission. That he wouldn’t find a way to sacrifice himself for Brea.

Or worse, for her.

Water rained down from the walls, tapping on the roof like Morse code, each strike echoing in on itself. She accepted Quinn’s hands, trusting him to hold her weight as she stepped into the opening, dangling mid-air. He eased her down, allowing her to drop the last few feet. She landed with a hushed thunk, instantly moving to the side, rifle at a high ready, the muzzle pointed at the door.

The rest of her team followed suit. Zadie clamped the last mesh-network node on top of the cage before Quinn lowered her inside. Both Quinn and Coulter jumped through on their own, hanging from the lip before landing like freaking cats, nothing but a soft whoosh sounding inside the cage. Scout waited until everyone had their weapons notched into their shoulders before opening the door and darting out.

She went left and low, Quinn high and right, clearing each side then darting ahead, taking up point as Neve and the others fell in behind them. A string of dull lights swayed overhead, the weak, yellow glow barely touching the dark shadows lining the walls.

The main tunnel continued for about fifty meters before disappearing off to the right, a white glow from somewhere beyond the corner brightening the end of the path.

Scout quickstepped to the branching tunnel, the air noticeably warmer with notes of ancient dirt and weathered pine adding to the humidity. She pressed her back against the stone, counted to three then snuck a quick peek around edge. “Holy, shit.”

Her voice barely carried, but she felt the weight of the words in the pit of her stomach.

Quinn darted in beside her, moving with her when she fully stepped out, stared at the official entrance to The Foundry.

Glass.

Jutting out from the jagged rock walls as if it had grown in place like a crystal. Huge cubes built in a modern, modular design, each square a mixture of reinforced panels, steel, and harsh, white LED lights that made the entire complex look like a glowing spaceship dropped inside a prehistoric cave.

A constant, low-frequency hum vibrated through the walls and floor, a distinct breeze pushing past them as massive air scrubbers fought to clean the damp cavern air. Sheets of slotted plastic hung at the entrance to one of the branches with what looked like colored floor lighting leading off in different directions.

Scout led her team over to the door, stepping aside to let Zadie in close. Zadie popped the key-code lock cover, hooked up a cable to her tablet, then started working. Numbers scrolled across the screen for several seconds before the access light pulsed green. The door detached from the magnetic locks, a whoosh of positive pressure hissing from around the edges as the door slid open, a blast of dry, cool air rushing out.

Quinn breeched first, taking up sentry as the rest of them spread out, Scout guarding Zadie’s six as she hacked into the cameras, had them looping old feed before finding a schematic of the facility and launching it onto her screen. Scout backed into the complex, still guarding their six as Zadie enlarged the image.

Zadie tapped on their current location, drawing her finger across the surface. “There are two distinct wings. The east wing holds cryogenic storage, data servers and chemical processing. The west houses quarantine and observation units as well as staff quarters and services. Brea should be in the west half.”

Their comms buzzed, Gus’ voice sounding in their ears. “Neve, did I hear Zadie correctly? That this complex might house samples of Pryce’s TITAN variant as well as all the intel Zadie couldn’t transfer from that warehouse trailer before it purged?”