virus had become, the witch doctor — Koritoia-Ope — had eventually agreed to lead his people to the research centre and allow West to take blood samples from them in an effort to develop a vaccine. Furthermore he had agreed to take a party up to the sacred Kuruni burial site early the following morning, so they could get a sample of the stable form of the virus.
Sam had never before appreciated the sheer bliss to be found in what he had always thought of as the simple things in life — taking a shower, putting on clean clothes, eating a good meal, sleeping in a comfortable bed. It might have been only twenty-four hours since the outbreak of the virus had reached pandemic proportions, but by the time they arrived back at the research centre and he was finally able to enjoy a bit of downtime. He felt like he’d been fighting and running for days.
It was agreed that he and Purna would accompany Koritoia-Ope to the burial site at dawn the next day, while Logan and Mowen would monitor proceedings at the research centre and keep Ryder White up to date with developments. At first Logan had offered to go with Purna to give Sam more time to get over his latest zombie bite, but Sam had insisted that he’d rather be doing something than hanging around — and besides, although he didn’t say so, he was pretty sure that Logan’s knee would not be able to stand up to what Mowen had told them would be almost a full day’s hike there and back over pretty tough terrain.
It was obvious that the same thought was in the back of Logan’s mind too. Shrugging he had said, ‘Well, if you
By the time they finally arrived at the burial site, Sam was beginning to regret telling Logan that he’d rather be doing something than nothing. It was still only 10 a.m., but the reflection of the sun on the pale ground was enough to make him wish he’d thought to ask Mowen if he could borrow his shades, and every outcrop of rock he touched with his hands or brushed against with his leg was red hot. He was relieved when Koritoia-Ope stopped and pointed at a carved stone arch jutting from the mouth of the cave, which was stoppered by a boulder just as tall and at least three times as wide as Sam himself.
The witch doctor unleashed a stream of words, nodding and pointing to emphasize what he was saying.
Purna nodded back at him. ‘I think this is it,’ she muttered to Sam.
Sam shrugged off his backpack and delved inside, grateful that he’d heeded Mowen’s advice to bring plenty of water. Finding a full litre bottle he unscrewed the cap, gulped several mouthfuls and poured some over his head. He was almost surprised when the water didn’t sizzle and evaporate on contact with his skin.
‘Don’t waste it,’ said Purna. ‘We’ve got the return journey to make yet, remember.’
‘Yeah, I was thinking about that, and I figure I might catch the bus back,’ said Sam.
Koritoia-Ope waited patiently while Sam and Purna rehydrated. Purna offered him the water bottle, but he simply looked at it with a mixture of suspicion, perplexity and contempt before shaking his head. Certainly he didn’t seem to be affected by the heat; his skin appeared as dry and leathery now as when they had started out. Walking up to the boulder plugging the cave entrance, he made a pushing gesture with his hands.
‘Great,’ said Sam. ‘Manual labour. Just what we need.’
‘If you don’t stop moaning I may be forced to break your nose,’ Purna said mildly.
Sam laughed. ‘Man, I bet you are one high-maintenance chick.’
‘You better believe it.’
Shrugging off their backpacks and laying their guns carefully on top of them, Sam and Purna walked forward and placed their hands on the boulder. Once again the witch doctor made a pushing gesture.
‘I think we get the general idea,’ muttered Purna.
Gritting their teeth, Sam and Purna pushed as hard as they could. At first the rock seemed immovable, but eventually it shifted a little before settling again.
‘I think we need to rock it,’ Purna said.
‘I been rocking it all my life,’ replied Sam.
They tried again, coordinating their movements, giving the boulder a series of shoves rather than trying to shift it with one sustained effort. Sure enough, after ten seconds or so, the boulder began to rock backwards and forwards, just a little at first, and then more and more as it gained momentum. Finally, face sheened with sweat, Purna said, ‘One more big one … Now!’
The two of them grunted and heaved, and the rock rolled aside before toppling over with a crash.
Released from the cave, a wave of air rolled out and over them, and although they welcomed its chilliness, Purna and Sam wrinkled their noses at its fetid odour. They turned to the witch doctor, who was chattering excitedly. Purna pointed at the dark cave opening. ‘We can go in?’ she asked.
Even though they were unsure whether Koritoia-Ope had understood the question, they took his answering nod as confirmation. Retrieving their guns and backpacks, they ventured inside, Sam first, Purna just behind him and the witch doctor bringing up the rear.
The interior of the cave was dank and cold and dark, the ground uneven. Indeed, immediately upon entering, there was a series of natural steps, which all but cut off the spill of daylight from outside and resulted in the floor level quickly dropping by several metres. Purna took a flashlight from her backpack and shone it around. The passage ahead was narrow and winding, the walls rising up from it in a curve. It made Sam think of that old story about Jonah in the belly of the whale.
‘How far?’ he asked the witch doctor, but the old man simply waved him on, the jangle of the bone bracelets on his wrist echoing eerily. They ventured forward, wary of stumbling and turning an ankle or worse on the slippery floor.
In fact, it wasn’t long before the passage widened out into a huge cavern, the ceiling high above their heads and the walls lined with row upon row of alcoves hacked from the rock. In each of the alcoves had been laid a body, virtually all of which were now nothing more than exposed grey bones and mummified flesh, the bindings they had been lovingly wrapped in having perished to grey scraps as insubstantial as cobwebs.
Looking around, Sam said glumly, ‘A couple of years, West said. But these guys look as if they’ve been dead for centuries.’
Koritoia-Ope, however, was already pushing past them, taking the lead, gesturing towards a black opening on the far side of the cavern. He spoke urgently, nodding all the while.
‘This is obviously the oldest cavern,’ Purna said. ‘I guess once this one was full, the Kuruni had to go deeper. That’s where the fresher meat will be.’
‘Nice,’ said Sam.
They moved on, passing through the valve-like opening on the far side of the cavern into another narrow tunnel. Purna’s flashlight beam slithered around the walls, highlighting the gleam of dampness and the black ridged shadows in a startling and somehow primal chiaroscuro.
After another fifty metres or so the tunnel widened into a second vast cavern, the walls of this one too resembling a vast hive for the dead. As Purna had guessed, the bodies were fresher here, as evidenced not only by the sight of them, but also the smell.
Sam felt his gorge rise and swallowed it down with an effort. Taking shallow breaths, he muttered, ‘Let’s get this done quick. It ain’t nice in here.’
‘Shh,’ Purna said.
‘What’s up?’
She raised a hand. ‘Just be quiet a minute.’
Sam stood still and listened, holding his breath. He could hear the steady drip of water, and something else too. A scratching sound.
‘What’s that? Rats?’
Purna’s flashlight beam danced across to her left. ‘It’s coming from over there.’
As soon as she began to head in the direction she had indicated, Koritoia-Ope ran across and stepped angrily in front of her, blocking out her flashlight beam, shaking his head and waving his hands.
‘What’s with him?’ said Sam.
Purna halted, looking at the agitated witch doctor thoughtfully, but she didn’t retreat. ‘There’s obviously something he doesn’t want us to see.’
‘Something alive, from the sound of it,’ said Sam.
‘Or some
