Area 51: The Sphinx-4 by Robert Doherty
Authors: Robert Doherty
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Action & Adventure, Espionage, Political, High Tech, Area 51 (Nev.), Ark of the Covenant
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sounded like a nonending series of drums rumbling. He reached out, searching the stone ledge. "Burton left something in this place. He could get in here during the dry season that year. Every forty years
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or so during a drought the river dries up and the falls are silent. Burton came here during one of those occasions."
"Why is this Mission trying to kill us?" Bauru was still focused on the immediate danger.
"They work for the aliens." Mualama's fingers brushed against something. Slick cloth. Wrapped around something. He picked it up. It was about twelve inches long by eight wide by two deep and covered with a soft pliant cloth. He slipped it into the waistband of his shirt as Bauru suddenly turned on a small penlight.
Above the rock, one of the Guirani scampered down the rope to the rock. He had a length of cord over his shoulder that he tied to both of the bodies. He fastened the free end to the piton, then rolled both bodies into the river, the blood swirling into the silt-laden water, the corpses banging against the rock. Then he unfastened the nylon rope from the piton and climbed, hand over hand, hack to the top of the gorge. He pulled the rope up.
The small party stood still for a few minutes, watching. Then the water around the two bodies exploded in churning red froth.
"What do we do now?" Bauru asked: He shined the light around. They were inside a chamber about four feet from the ledge, three high by six wide. The rock walls had been polished smooth when water had carved it out ages before.
"We must get out of here," Mualama said.
"They might be waiting for us."
"We cannot stay here much longer," Mualama said. "The air is growing stale."
Bauru considered the situation. "If we stay underwater and swim with the current, we might be able to get far enough down the gorge so that they will not see us.
-53-
"All right." Mualama was anxious to be moving, to get outside in the light where he could see what treasure he had uncovered.
Bauru turned the light off and slid over the edge into the water. Mualama prepared to follow, when the guide screamed and splashed about.
"What is wrong?" Mualama yelled.
Bauru screamed again, and literally jumped out of the water onto the ledge.
Mualama could hear him cursing, flopping about.
"Get it off me!" Bauru yelled.
"What is it?"
"Get it off me!" There was a ripping sound, then something splashing into the water. "Oh, God." Bauru's voice was low now as he slumped back. The light came on, and Mualama saw a long, jagged tear down the other man's chest. There was another on his leg. Blood pulsed out of the wounds.
"What happened?"
"Piranha." Bauru grimaced as his fingers probed the wound on His chest. The skin was torn for almost ten inches, the edges of the wound rough. Blood oozed out over Bauru's fingers.
Mualama tried to help him, but they had nothing to stop the bleeding with.
"We have to get out of here," Mualama insisted.
"How?
"We wait for the fish to leave?" Mualama suggested.
Bauru looked up at Mualama, his face resigned.
“They have tasted me. They have the blood scent. They will not leave. I have seen such fish block a river crossing for four days after taking down the lead horse in a column. They stripped it down to a skeleton, then waited for more.”
Mualama took a deep breath to steady his nerves, but all that served to do was remind how stale the air in
-54-
their small prison was. He tried to help the other man stop the bleeding, but the wounds were too wide and long. A pool of blood was forming on the rock beneath Bauru.
Mualama looked over at the dark surface of the
"There is no other way out than through the tunnel." Mualama said.
Bauru laughed, a manic edge to it. "I know that. The only choice to be made is to die here slowly or to go in the water and die quickly." He leaned back, hissing in pain. "What did you find?" he asked, nodding toward the packet stuck in Mualama's belt.
"I don't know."
"Is it important?"
"I
-52-
or so during a drought the river dries up and the falls are silent. Burton came here during one of those occasions."
"Why is this Mission trying to kill us?" Bauru was still focused on the immediate danger.
"They work for the aliens." Mualama's fingers brushed against something. Slick cloth. Wrapped around something. He picked it up. It was about twelve inches long by eight wide by two deep and covered with a soft pliant cloth. He slipped it into the waistband of his shirt as Bauru suddenly turned on a small penlight.
Above the rock, one of the Guirani scampered down the rope to the rock. He had a length of cord over his shoulder that he tied to both of the bodies. He fastened the free end to the piton, then rolled both bodies into the river, the blood swirling into the silt-laden water, the corpses banging against the rock. Then he unfastened the nylon rope from the piton and climbed, hand over hand, hack to the top of the gorge. He pulled the rope up.
The small party stood still for a few minutes, watching. Then the water around the two bodies exploded in churning red froth.
"What do we do now?" Bauru asked: He shined the light around. They were inside a chamber about four feet from the ledge, three high by six wide. The rock walls had been polished smooth when water had carved it out ages before.
"We must get out of here," Mualama said.
"They might be waiting for us."
"We cannot stay here much longer," Mualama said. "The air is growing stale."
Bauru considered the situation. "If we stay underwater and swim with the current, we might be able to get far enough down the gorge so that they will not see us.
-53-
"All right." Mualama was anxious to be moving, to get outside in the light where he could see what treasure he had uncovered.
Bauru turned the light off and slid over the edge into the water. Mualama prepared to follow, when the guide screamed and splashed about.
"What is wrong?" Mualama yelled.
Bauru screamed again, and literally jumped out of the water onto the ledge.
Mualama could hear him cursing, flopping about.
"Get it off me!" Bauru yelled.
"What is it?"
"Get it off me!" There was a ripping sound, then something splashing into the water. "Oh, God." Bauru's voice was low now as he slumped back. The light came on, and Mualama saw a long, jagged tear down the other man's chest. There was another on his leg. Blood pulsed out of the wounds.
"What happened?"
"Piranha." Bauru grimaced as his fingers probed the wound on His chest. The skin was torn for almost ten inches, the edges of the wound rough. Blood oozed out over Bauru's fingers.
Mualama tried to help him, but they had nothing to stop the bleeding with.
"We have to get out of here," Mualama insisted.
"How?
"We wait for the fish to leave?" Mualama suggested.
Bauru looked up at Mualama, his face resigned.
“They have tasted me. They have the blood scent. They will not leave. I have seen such fish block a river crossing for four days after taking down the lead horse in a column. They stripped it down to a skeleton, then waited for more.”
Mualama took a deep breath to steady his nerves, but all that served to do was remind how stale the air in
-54-
their small prison was. He tried to help the other man stop the bleeding, but the wounds were too wide and long. A pool of blood was forming on the rock beneath Bauru.
Mualama looked over at the dark surface of the
"There is no other way out than through the tunnel." Mualama said.
Bauru laughed, a manic edge to it. "I know that. The only choice to be made is to die here slowly or to go in the water and die quickly." He leaned back, hissing in pain. "What did you find?" he asked, nodding toward the packet stuck in Mualama's belt.
"I don't know."
"Is it important?"
"I
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