Dirk Pitt 1 - Pacific Vortex (25 page)

A sudden explosive cracking sound rolled through the cavern and vibrated into a thunderous crescendo as the tremors shook the hard rock walls.

For a fleeting instant, Pitt thought Delphi had fired the gun. Then he realized the cracking sound had originated from overhead. One wall had broken loose and was crumbling down the stairway in a sweeping avalanche. Pitt gave Summer a violent shove which sent her flying from the steps into the yellow pool. In the same swift motion he threw himself on top of Adrian, blanketing her body with his.

The avalanche hit Tons of gold-tinted rock bounded down the sloping wall burying the stairway. One of the carved, sphinxlike statues stood firm on its pedestal against the onslaught, but the second figure succumbed to the crashing force and toppled over, to Pitt's dazed mind looking like a cowboy who fell off his horse in the middle of a cattle stampede.

Pitt gritted his teeth and tensed his muscles as the rocks mercilessly rained down on his back. One tumbling boulder smashed into his side, and he heard, rather than felt, a rib snap. His face itched as blood trickled down his cheeks from a gash in his scalp. An odd piercing cry reached his ears over the rumbling din. It seemed far away, but then it dawned on him that it was coming from Adrian's lips only a few inches away as she screamed in uncontrollable hysteria. The rocks kept coming, covering Pitt's legs to his waist He was pinned and unable to move. He clutched Adrian more tightly, as if his arm could squeeze the fear out of her.

It took almost a full minute before Pitt became aware of a heavy silence, broken only by an occasional small rock clattering down the slide and splashing into the water. He could now feel Adrian's spasmodic movements as she sobbed in numbed terror.

He slowly raised his head and peered over the jagged rubble. A veil of phosphorescent dust hung in the damp cavern air and slowly settled, like a swarm of glowing fireflies, to the stone floor. One statue still stood, staring coldly into nothingness while its base lay encircled by a thick layer of rocks. Its mate was missing, but on a closer inspection, Pitt could faintiy see it on one side, a shattered and broken piece of antiquity.

Then something moved beneath the fallen sculpture. Pitt strained to penetrate the gloom. He freed one hand to rub the blood and dust from his eyes. The object rose slightly and turned, two glinting eyes staring in Pitt's direction. It was Delphi.

The great body lay crushed beneath the broken statue; only the head and one shoulder were visible above the broken mound of sculpture. Blood oozed from his mouth, but he seemed unaware of it. Then the gold, venomous eyes narrowed when they recognized Pitt.

It was becoming lighter now, and Pitt and Delphi saw the Colt at the same time, its steel blue barrel poking up from a pile of debris about four feet from Delphi's head. Pitt cursed his helplessness while Delphi's hand crawled toward the gun. Pitt struggled with every ounce of his ebbing strength to pull free, but his legs were pinned too tightly beneath the rubble. His breath came in great gulping pants; his mind raced with a growing sense of hopelessness. The gun was a good two feet closer to Delphi.

Delphi's face was contorted with the strain; his skin glistened with sweat. He said nothing, conserving every gram of his diminishing strength. He looked at Pitt again, shook his head as if gripped by an enormous spasm of hatred, and willed his fingers on toward the Colt To Pitt, the seconds decelerated until time slowed to a sluggish halt. He frantically began pushing the boulders from his buried legs, but each try was a tremendous agony, and he had precious little left to give the effort.

Delphi's fingertips touched and clawed at the Colt. The barrel tilted slightly and he hooked two fingers around the muzzle tip and pulled. The gun gave an eighth of an inch, but Delphi lost his fragile grip.

Again and again he tried, until at last the .44 fell within reach of his palm. Then he clutched the handgrip with such force his knuckles turned bone-white.

Delphi coughed and a wave of blood spilled from his mouth, staining the rocks beneath him. But his intent never wavered; his face twisted fiendishly as he raised the gun barrel. He thumbed the hammer back A grin swept his face, revealing a set of crimson-coated teeth as he leveled the sights at a point between Pitt's eyes.

Suddenly there was a movement a few feet in front of Delphi. Pitt watched in stunned fascination as another arm snaked upward from the rubble. Lake a ghostly apparition rising from the grave, the arm and its attached hand rose and swung in an arc toward Delphi. Slowly the hand doubled up and closed into a fist except for the little finger which remained extended. Next, in one lightning motion, the fist fell and rammed against the gun muzzle, imbedding the little finger up to the first knuckle inside the barrel.

Giordino could not quite reach far enough to grasp the gun; he had jammed his finger in the barrel, knowing that if Delphi squeezed the trigger, the stoppage would momentarily expand the charge and the breech would blow up in the giant's face.

Incredulous surprise cast its shadow over Delphi's eyes. He feebly jerked the Colt from side to side—his strength was gone; he could hardly hold the gun level, much less engage in a struggle to dislodge the obstruction. The finger stayed. Delphi seemed to ponder the situation, but blackness was seeping into his mind. For the last time he flashed his blood-covered grin, and pulled the trigger.

The muffled crash shook the cavern; several small rocks broke and tumbled from the vaulted ceiling.

The right side of Delphi's face dissolved. The mangled gun dropped from his hand, and he fell forward, his head striking heavily on the rocks.

Giordino had uttered no sound. His arm and hand were still erect as he unclenched the fist and revealed a thumb and three fingers—the little finger was smashed to its base.

Pitt renewed the fight with his rock prison. He finally managed to tear himself free. Then he lifted Adrian from her confining position and leaned her against the standing statue. She had passed out cold.

“If you're up to it,” Giordino murmured through tight lips, “how about excavating me from the ruins?”

“Hold on,” Pitt answered.

He crawled over the rubble to Giordino. Together they shoved away the boulders that had entombed all but Al's face and right arm.

“Any other bones broken besides your missing pinkie?” Pitt asked.

“No,” Giordino answered tersely, grimacing from the pain in his hand. “How about you?”

“A bent rib or two.” Pitt slipped out of his torn swimming trunks and began tearing them into strips. “Here, let me wrap your hand.”

“I've heard of giving a friend the shirt off your back,” said Giordino, smiling gratefully, “but this is a new twist.”

Just as he finished, Pitt heard a low gasp where the rock slide ended in the pond. Summer was pulling herself out of the water, her eyes dazed and glassy. She looked vacantly at Pitt.

“My father... what? ...” Her voice trailed off and the words became jumbled and incoherent.

“Rest easy,” Pitt said. “We'll be out of here and safe in a few minutes.”

He reached over and pulled her to him, cradling her head in his arm. His fingers gently pushed the dripping hair from her face; he could see a dark red cut on her temple which was starting to swell. He whispered a few words in her ear and kissed her lightly on the mouth.

The water was rising rapidly throughout the cavern, creeping up the stairway, but Pitt wasn't aware of it. His face was tight with pity for Summer. He wanted to cry out that he loved her, but his lips moved soundlessly. She looked up into Pitt's eyes with an expression of faraway detachment. Her lips moved; she reached up and placed her hand on his chest.

“He's dead, isn't he?”

“Yes, the rock slide,” he lied, but it was only a little lie. The exploding Colt only hastened Delphi's end. His crushed and broken body would have given up the fight within the hour.

“I hate to keep coming between you two,” Giordino said, “but I think we better make our getaway, if you'll excuse the expression, before the roof falls in.”

Pitt kissed Summer once more and then rose unsteadily to his feet He was about to ask Giordino to revive Adrian when she appeared, naked, covered with golden phosphorescence, looking like a gilded nymph.

“Do you think you can swim?” Giordino asked her.

“I'll try,” Adrian muttered weakly.

“Al, you and Adrian go first,” Pitt said. “Have her hold onto your shoulders. Summer and I will follow.” He nodded reassuringly at Giordino. “We'll meet you in the next chamber.”

Giordino looked around. “Too bad some of our equipment isn't still around.”

“Even if it was, we'd never find it under all this.” “Come along,” Giordino said to Adrian. “The Albert Giordino Great Western and Pacific Underwater Express waits for no one.” He led Adrian gently into the water. He had trouble walking, but swimming came easily. He guided her arms around his bull-like neck and she buried her face on his back between the shoulder blades. “Now hold tight and take a deep breath,” he ordered. Then they both disappeared, leaving only a spreading circle of ripples.

Summer gazed back at the mound of rocks surrounding the fallen statue. “There's nothing that can be done?” she asked. “Nothing.”

Grief is a strange emotion. Summer's sad and lovely face suddenly became a mask of haunting serenity, edged by an icy expression of determination. “I love you, Dirk, but I... I cannot go with you.” Pitt stared at her. “That's nonsense.” “Please understand,” she pleaded. “This seamount has always been my home. My mother lies buried here and now my father.” “That's no reason to die here too.” She laid her face against his chest. “I once promised my father I would never leave his side. I must honor that promise.”

Pitt had to fight to overcome an urge to order her to dive into the water. Instead he stroked her hair and tenderly said: Tm a selfish man. Your father is gone and now you belong to me. I want you. I need you. Even he wouldn't wish you to die to fulfill a young girl's promise.“ He hugged her tightly. ”No more arguments. We're leaving together and we're leaving now."

Summer was still softly crying when hand in hand they slid beneath the yellow-tinted water.

Giordino and Adrian were sitting on the ledge in the outer chamber when Pitt and Summer broke the surface.

“What took you two so long?” asked Giordino. “This waiting around is making me hungry.”

Pitt remained in the water, holding onto the ledge, unable to pull himself onto its dry surface. “We're halfway home now,” he said confidently. “A quick swim to the surface and then it's off we go for Honolulu.”

“We'll go up in the same order,” Pitt said firmly. “And remember, exhale as you swim toward the surface. There's no sense in any of us getting an air embolism after coming this far.” He turned to Summer. The water had turned her green robe into a transparent veil, and the clinging wetness of the material revealed every contour of her body. He had known many women of all shapes and sizes, but they all seemed colorless when compared to this woman from the seamount His mind was so occupied with Summer that he hardly noticed Giordino and Adrian sliding into the water.

“See you topside,” Giordino said, smiling. But the concern in his eyes was obvious. There was no telling what they might find on the surface. If anything.

Pitt managed to smile back. “Good luck. Keep a sharp watch for sharks.”

“Don't worry. If I see one, I'll bite first” He waved his good hand, and, with Adrian securely draped around his neck, dove down and out of the underwater entrance.

A strange stillness gripped the chamber. The murky

water lapped gently at the walls and spilled around the tiny sealife attached to the rock. Dim light from the outside danced upon the roof, throwing fleeting shadows across the broken surface.

“There's a new life for both of us up there,” Pitt said softly.

Summer gazed into Pitt's green eyes and caressed his face lightly with her fingers. Then she wept; her mind and being torn between love for her father and new love for a man she barely knew. She struggled within her heart to reach a decision, her long sunset hair lifting and falling with the gentle waves, tears mingling with the saltwater on her cheeks. Then she knew what she must do.

“I am ready,” she said. “You are sorely hurt so you must go first I will follow.”

Pitt nodded silently, yielding to her logic. He brushed his lips over her hand. Then he smiled and ducked under the surface and was gone.

Summer watched his naked form glide beneath the rocks and vanish into the sea,

“Good-bye, Dirk Pitt,” she murmured to herself and the empty chamber. She climbed up on the ledge, arched her supple body, and dove cleanly into the water. For a brief instant she stared at the sunlit entrance to the outside world. Then she turned and swam back toward the yellow cavern and her father.

The water became warmer as Pitt rose upward. Fifty feet, he thought, that's what Giordino's depth gauge had read when they had entered the small, air-pocketed chamber. He peered through the bluish-green liquid, just making out the rhythmic sway of the sun-dazzled surface above. He exhaled bits of breath slowly, erasing the pressure on his lungs and watching with loose curiosity as his air bubbles trailed alongside his head during the ascent It was as if they were hanging motionlessly in space.

He bobbed to the surface, met by the burning tropical sun. The breath rasped in and out of his lungs like air cycles from a pneumatic stamping press. He relaxed a few moments, as much as his aching and exhausted body would allow, floating in the gentle rise and fall of the swells. His eyes blinked clear, and he searched for Adrian and Giordino, spotting their heads twenty feet away as they rose on the crest of a wave just before they dropped and disappeared momentarily in the trough.

Suddenly there was a thunderous rumbling sound below as a great spreading swell of bubbles carpeted the sea. Then the depths gave up a clutter of debris containing shattered pieces of wood, slicks of oil, and bits of torn cloth. It was the final end of Kanoli; the final end of the Pacific Vortex.

Pitt looked for Summer, desperately searching each wave crest. But there was no sign of her flaming red hair. He shouted her name. But his only answer came from the distant rumble on the seafloor. Burying his head in the water, he dove back to find her. But his body would not respond—it had long reached its limits of endurance. Somewhere in the watery distance he thought he heard the distorted sounds of voices and he feebly fought to regain the surface.

A monstrous fish, that's the only description his numbed brain could offer, a monstrous black fish rose up from the sea and towered above his head, threatening to devour what was left of him. Pitt didn't care; he was ready. The sea had offered him someone to love, only to steal her back within its depths.

Then something caught his arm and gripped firm. Nearly insensible with exhaustion, he looked up. A

maze of blurred faces came down from the monstrous black fish, gently lifting his nude and badly injured body and wrapping him in a blanket. One of the faces detached itself from the rest and leaned closely over Pitt

“Christ!” Crowhaven said in awe, “Whafs happened to you?”

Pitt tried to talk, but he choked and coughed instead, spitting up saltwater and vomit on the white blanket Hoarsely he whispered: “You...the Star-buck ... you raised her?”

“The Crowhaven luck,” he said patiently. “The Monitors missile exploded on the opposite side of the seamount so we were partially shielded from the main force of the underwater shock waves. The concussion was just enougjh to pop the bottom suction and up we came. The Navy won't take too kindly to what Tve done to their submarine though. The starboard prop is sheared off and the port prop looks like a sick pretzel.”

Pitt leaned his head up. Giordino and Adrian were also on board, similarly encased in the heavy white woolen U.S. Navy blankets. One of the seamen was attending to Giordino's hand. “A girl... there's another girl out there.” Crowhaven hovered over Pitt. “Rest easy, Major. If she's out there, well find her.”

Pitt coughed again and fell back. He felt drained and shrunken. His mind was empty, surrounded by a creeping cover of black mist.

Crowhaven's men searched endlessly, but no trace of Summer was ever found. The mysteries of Kanoli were buried forever.

The tide of Kaena Point was coming in; the surf swept the sands just before it touched the feet of the overlooking bluffs. As each wave receded, the clear, tide-washed sand reappeared while tiny sand crabs burrowed new holes in the firmly packed grains.

Pitt stood on the bluffs of Kaena Point and watched the restless waters. He stood for a very long time, even after the tide reached high water and started to ebb. This is where it all began, he thought. And, for him, this is where it would end. Yet there were some things, he knew, that stay with a man until his heart hits the last rhythmic beat.

An albatross lazily circled overhead in ever-widening arcs. Then, as if sensing danger, it broke and winged away toward the north. Pitt studied the great white and black feathered bird until it became a small winged speck, finally vanishing in the flat blue sky.

The fragrance from the wisp of plumeria in his hand pierced his nostrils; from somewhere beyond the horizon a soft voice seemed to say: “A ka makani hema pa.” The words were carried on the light breeze that drifted in from the ocean.

Pitt listened intently but heard no more. He stared at the bouquet for a moment and then cast it into the sea, watching as the surf rolled over the white blossoms, scattering them in the foaming sand.

As he turned away from the shoreline, Pitt sensed a vast feeling of relief. He began to whistle as his AC Cobra leaped down the winding dirt road, leaving a thin vapor of dust to slowly settle over the empty beach.