Chapter Three
Sandra reacted quickly and instinctively. She realized that Victor would have to be dug out and soon. Where were the shovels? No one at this party carried any. They must be on top of the hill then or in the village! She made a digging motion to the still stunned soldiers. They understood and began to remove stones and dirt with their hands. They made little headway. She turned around and took one man with her as they hurried to the cave mouth. Since she had taken a penicillin shot, she stopped worrying about the sickness. In an instant she had removed her protective suit; the soldier did the same. Together they ran down the path toward the burning village, waving their arms to attract attention.
On the hill the Chinese General had been intently watching the proceedings, noting with satisfaction the razing of the village, shaking his head with approval as first one large building and then two more fell victims to well-placed explosives. Dark clouds billowed out over the valley signaling the burning of the dead villagers.
“Just like the last war,” he murmured, “but it is a war just the same.”
Some movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention. He turned his glasses in that direction, caught sight of two figures running down the hill. He realized one of them was the girl. He reacted swiftly. He turned to the Major and barked out an order.
“Take the truck down to the village with some men and the rest of the equipment. You should be safe since you have been vaccinated and the town is burning. The rats are not around. I believe that the doctor and his team are in trouble inside the tunnel. Move it, now.”
In no time a truck was on the road.
Sandra reached the village and signaled to the men that they should take the explosives and the few shovels and follow her. The five men removed their suits and all double-timed up the hill.
Victor quietly scrambled off the ground, stood still and shined the light around the tunnel. He saw no exit. It seemed in his agitated state that the tunnel was packed to the ceiling with shining green eyes. The doctor looked behind him; he was alone. He braced himself for the fight of his life.
General Wu realized that he needed reinforcements and transportation. Some team members would no doubt need help. Where could he find it? The capitol city was far away and, besides, there might not be any helicopters available. He looked north, toward Siberia. He had a solution the big Russian base at Irkutsk. He frantically turned some knobs on his radio.
Sandra returned to the tunnel in time to see that the soldiers had begun to make a difference, but not fast enough to suit her. She indicated that the explosive expert set some dynamite sticks inside the rubble at a few spots. He understood.
Victor wondered when the rats would attack. He had no weapon. His brain began to function again. The doctor realized that the soldiers on the other side of the cave-in would be digging toward him. He reached behind him and slowly removed debris while keeping an eye on his watchers. As if divining his actions, the rat pack began to surge forward. Victor faced the attack with a feeling of despair and horror. Thousands of tiny grasping feet and gaping mouths filled his vision; a thunderous squeal straight out of hell overpowered his senses. He flailed his flashlight about him, knocked some animals aside. Victor hoped the visor was sturdy enough to protect his face. Some rats gained a foothold on his suit. He felt parts of it rip. The flashlight slipped from his hand; the tunnel was plunged into total darkness. The doctor grabbed some slimy bodies and hurled them away from him; it was an exercise in futility performed in desperation. He felt a bite on his skin. The mass of maddened hungry rats rolled over the struggling man like a black evil tidal wave. Victor Cranston’s last thought was of his daughter: what would she do alone—again.
Sandra became frantic and was on the verge of losing her faculties as she realized that Victor would be overwhelmed. Like all humans she felt a revulsion concerning rats bordering on hysteria. The men with the shovels stepped back as a soldier set two sticks into the rubble and lit the fuses. She and the others retreated some distance and watched the action. A dull rumble echoed through the mine shaft as the explosives tore a huge hole in the mass of rocks and dirt. The men hurried forward and cleared some more debris. One soldier reached inside, grabbed Victor by the shoulders and hauled him out. Two men with tanks on their backs immediately shoved nozzles inside the opening and pressed the triggers. Tongues of flames shot out and engulfed the rats as the mad pack tried to follow its victim. Sandra shouted and pointed. A mass of rats still clung to the doctor’s ripped suit.
She screamed out. “Get those devils off him. Pick them off!”
Soldiers grabbed the maddened animals and flung them against the walls. Sandra noticed two rats scratching Victor’s face mask. Thoughts of Orwell’s final vision of hell in his horror creation, 1984, flashed through her mind, gave her a bad case of the screaming meemies. She shrieked, jumped forward and pulled the rats off, sent them screeching and squealing against the wall.
The girl covered her ears to shut off the ear-splitting shrieks and squeals. Dante had it all wrong about hell, she thought hysterically. This is it! When the tanks ran dry, two more men took up the fight, followed by two more. The tunnel was now a blazing funeral pyre of squealing rats. Sandra became nauseated by the smell of burning flesh. She felt guiltless; it was a fight to the finish, one more in mankind’s endless war for survival.
The girl checked out the unconscious doctor. His suit was in shreds; his body bled from a thousand bites. Two soldiers picked him up and ran to the entrance just in time to see the truck careening to a stop in the village. Sandra fought down the panic that threatened to engulf her. She hoped that the penicillin would now take effect and save the man’s body. Then a new worry set in. How would this affect his mind? Sandra wasted no time on speculation.
She helped the medical technician remove the protective suit and then both took off Victor’s clothes. The only thing they could do was to wash him down with alcohol and stop the worst of the bleeding. He had lost much blood; shock would soon set in. Victor needed to reach a hospital quickly. When he opened his eyes, blubbered something, and made sit-up motions, the medic injected him with a sedative. He fell back unconscious. Two soldiers bundled the doctor in a sleeping bag and placed him in the truck. Sandra jumped in the back, held Victor’s hand as the vehicle took off for the top of the hill. She despaired. They would never reach the hospital in time by taking the road. They needed a miracle. It came in the form of a helicopter beating its way in from the north. A startled Sandra realized that the chopper came from Russia. She did not wonder at the coincidence.
Sandra insisted on accompanying Victor as the helicopter lifted off and flew southeast toward Ulaanbaatar and the hospital. She looked back in time to see the mountain come crashing down, obliterating the mine entrance.
