Guns of Mars 28
A Martian action-adventure by The Legend Chuck Dixon
CHAPTER 8.2
They left the light of the dawn sky behind to descend into the darkness of the tunnel. Its smooth bore ran at a gentle incline through the base of the escarpment. The gloom embraced them as Kal rode, leading the other thoats behind. The bounty man walked well ahead. He was untethered for all the good it would do him. Barefoot with his arms bound at his back, there was little chance of escape by running. And there was nowhere to run to. The tunnel lay ahead, straight as a rod with nothing but smooth, featureless, uninterrupted walls enclosing them for miles and miles.
And, if he were to make it into the open of the canal beyond, he would still be trapped in the walls of the great channel carved so long ago from the rock. And should, by some miracle, he elude his captor, he would be helpless prey for whatever species of predator called the canal home.
This was what the thark meant to be his revenge. It was the bounty man’s turn to be afoot, denied food or drink, to serve as a sacrifice for any creature they came upon. Kal took great pleasure in his retribution, making certain the man could see him breakfasting on portions of fatty strips fried on a hot rock. The thark made certain that his captive served as a witness each time he took a long draught from a water skin. He even enjoyed a bit of a bath, using some of the water to wash the black stains of dried blood from his torso and arms. The man turned away as he performed his ablutions but could not possibly miss the sound of splashes upon the rocks as Kal poured a generous stream over his soiled limbs.
After several hours they had left the light of the tunnel entrance behind them to be swallowed in the murk. They were now in full darkness, though the bounty man knew that tharks had keen eyesight even in the blackest gloom. It was their huge discus eyes that drank in any available light that allowed for this. While he stumbled blindly, occasionally tripping over debris that he could identify as bones by their clatter.
Time meant nothing in this ceaseless night. He only measured the passage of hours by the gnawing ache in his empty belly and the swelling of his tongue. It seemed as though an entire day had passed when they became aware of a nascent glow in the distance, a grayish haze that lightened as they neared a muted luminescence like a moon as seen through the mist of a sandstorm.
It was perhaps early evening when they came to the end of the tunnel. Though it was difficult to determine a time of day as they made their egress onto the floor of a mighty canal. The walls rose shear to either side leaving only a strip of sky visible above. The rock was cleft in parts with deep fissures, a mile high, formed over the millennia since the great canals had been dug at the direction of the once great Jeddaks. The floor was miles across and composed of smooth rock, worn thus by the water that had run down it through the ages. Here and there lay patches of dried lichen, the only sign of life in this forbidding place.
Special Note: GUNS OF MARS is now available in a hardcover edition. It is available at Amazon and at NDM Express.
