Chapter 165: Voices in the Deep
The first cry faded into the darkness below Millhome, leaving the broken gate and descending passage quiet once more.
Nobody moved for several seconds.
The sound had been weak, strained, and distant, but there had been no mistaking it. Someone was alive below. More than one person, judging by the second voice that had answered from farther down. Whether they were the missing Greyhaven civilians, survivors from Millhome, or captives taken from other parts of the Underroad remained unknown.
For Marcus, the distinction did not matter yet.
People were alive.
The problem was reaching them.
He crouched near the edge of the descending passage and swept. The captives were alive, close enough to hear, and likely in immediate danger. Yet the enormous claw marks across and old, others fresh enough that loose the passage without preparation could turn one rescue team into another group of prisoners.
Tomas moved beside Marcus and listened toward the lower route. "How far?"
"Hard to tell," Marcus replied. "The tunnel carries sound."
Selvar stepped closer to the gate, though his face remained pale. "There is a holding chamber below the first descent. Millhome used it for storage before the eastern route became dangerous."
"How far from here?"
"Perhaps half an hour on foot."
Rolf looked into the darkness. "That sounds close enough to become terrible very quickly."
Marcus ignored the comment and keyed his radio. The signal struggled even with the relay network, but after several attempts, the forward base answered through bursts of static.
"Atlas Actual to Forward Base. Millhome located. Refuge abandoned. We have confirmed human voices below our position and signs of mass capture. Request second expedition element move to Relay Three and hold."
Captain Garran’s reply arrived broken but understandable. "Copy. Second element preparing."
"Send additional medical support, stretchers, lights, and ammunition. No one moves beyond Relay Three until Tomas confirms the route."
"Understood."
Marcus lowered the radio and looked toward his team. "We do not rush. We clear the first descent, establish another relay, locate the voices, and assess the enemy. Rescue only proceeds if we can maintain a route back to Millhome."
Nobody objected, though impatience showed on several faces.
The voices came again.
This time, the call was weaker.
"Please!"
Selvar flinched.
He stepped toward the passage before Marcus caught his arm.
"My people are down there."
"I know."
"They may not have time."
"And if we move blind, neither will we."
Selvar pulled against his grip once, then stopped. His fear remained, but he understood the logic. The Underroad had survived through caution, sealed doors, and generations of people learning which passages not to enter. Desperation had already killed enough of them.
The engineers began preparing the descent.
A new power cable ran from the portable generator established near Millhome’s western entrance. Floodlights were mounted along the stone gate and first section of stairs, pushing the darkness back several meters at a time. Gas detectors showed normal oxygen but elevated moisture and traces of an unknown organic compound. The medic distributed breathing masks anyway, instructing everyone to secure them immediately if symptoms appeared.
Marcus studied the massive grooves across the gate while preparations continued. The cuts were too clean to have come from stone collapse. Each one descended almost three meters, passing through reinforced rock and iron. Whatever made them possessed strength far beyond the surface Collectors.
"How often do the deep ones come this high?" he asked.
Selvar shook his head. "They did not before."
"That is not an answer."
"It is the only one I have."
The deep Collectors had once remained near the buried city and the Nest Below. Millhome’s gate existed because earlier generations knew something larger lived beyond it, but the barrier had apparently held for years. Its destruction meant the behavior of the creatures had changed.
The same pattern repeated everywhere.
The Collectors were expanding upward.
The Dominion had expanded outward.
Every threat Marcus discovered in this world seemed to begin by crossing an old boundary.
Tomas checked his squad and signaled readiness.
Marcus assigned two infantrymen to remain at Millhome’s gate while the rest formed into a narrow column. Tomas led the point element with two soldiers. Marcus followed with Selvar and an engineer carrying the relay equipment. Rolf remained near the medic, providing rear security while complaining quietly that underground stairs should be illegal.
The team crossed the broken gate.
The passage descended sharply.
Unlike the King’s Road above, this section had been built for function rather than travel. Stone steps followed the natural slope, turning around thick pillars cut directly from the surrounding rock. Water ran down grooves beside the walls, disappearing through narrow drains covered by rusted grates.
Human drag marks covered the floor.
Some appeared as long streaks in dust and damp soil. Others showed heel marks where captives had tried to resist. Torn fabric clung to rough stone. Near the first turn, they found a broken wooden bracelet marked with the Millhome symbol.
Selvar picked it up.
His fingers shook.
"Who?"
"My aunt wore one like this."
Marcus waited while he slipped the bracelet into a pocket, then motioned forward.
The voices had stopped.
That worried everyone.
The first Collector appeared ten minutes into the descent.
It clung upside down to the ceiling nearly thirty meters ahead, its pale armor blending with mineral deposits above. The point soldier noticed a small movement from its feelers before anyone stepped directly beneath it.
He raised one fist.
The column stopped.
Tomas looked through his optic and saw the creature clearly. It was larger than the juveniles near the King’s Road but smaller than the surface hunters. Its body remained flattened against the stone while hooked legs gripped cracks almost invisibly.
It was waiting.
Marcus studied it through his own optic. The Collector’s head faced the column, feelers moving slowly. It knew they were there.
Yet it did not attack.
Rolf leaned closer. "I don’t like that."
"Join the club," Tomas whispered.
The creature released one limb.
Then another.
It crawled backward along the ceiling and disappeared around a bend.
No one fired.
Marcus did not like wasting ammunition on a retreating target, but the movement carried a clear meaning.
The Collector had seen them.
Soon others would know.
The team increased pace without sacrificing formation.
At the second turn, they discovered the first dead captive.
A man lay against the wall with his hands bound by twisted fiber. His clothing matched the rough style of Millhome residents rather than surface travelers. There were no bite marks. No missing limbs. A dark bruise covered one side of his head, and dried blood marked his nose.
The medic knelt briefly.
"Dead several hours. Blunt trauma."
Selvar lowered his head.
Marcus looked toward the bindings. "They restrained him."
The fibers had been woven deliberately, tight enough to prevent escape but not random enough to be natural debris. Whether the Collectors made them or used material taken from Millhome remained unclear.
Rolf crouched nearby. "Animals don’t tie prisoners."
"No," Marcus said. "They don’t."
The intelligence assessment changed again.
The Collectors might not possess human language or technology, but they used tactics, routes, restraint, and selective capture. Their behavior suggested more than instinct.
The second relay was installed near the body.
Communication with Millhome improved enough for Marcus to report the casualty and request additional restraint-cutting tools for the rescue element. Tomas marked the location and direction of travel on the expedition map.
They continued down.
The corridor eventually leveled into a wide natural tunnel. The stonework ended abruptly, replaced by rough cavern walls covered in pale fungal growth. Their lights reflected from shallow pools, mineral crystals, and discarded shell fragments scattered across the floor.
Small holes lined both sides.
Too small for humans.
Large enough for juvenile Collectors.
Selvar stared at them. "These were not here before."
The words were barely above a whisper.
Marcus swept his light across the openings. Some looked freshly widened. Scratches marked the edges, and pale dust covered the ground beneath them. The Collectors had created side routes around the old passage, perhaps to bypass gates and barricades.
Tomas signaled the squad to tighten formation.
The first clicking began behind them.
Soft at first.
Then answered from the walls.
The team continued moving while rifle lights shifted between openings. Nothing emerged, but shadows moved beyond several holes. The creatures were following through the side network, keeping pace without exposing themselves.
Rolf checked behind them. "They’re herding us."
Marcus had already reached the same conclusion.
The Collectors were not trying to block the route.
They wanted Atlas to continue deeper.
That was enough to stop.
Marcus raised one hand. "Hold."
The column formed a defensive circle inside a wider section of the tunnel. The engineer placed the relay on a stone shelf while the medic checked air readings again. Oxygen remained safe. The unknown organic reading had increased.
"Mask up," Marcus ordered.
Everyone secured breathing masks over their mouths and noses.
Selvar struggled briefly with his until the medic helped tighten the straps. The equipment muffled voices but protected against dust or spores the Collectors might release.
The clicking stopped.
Marcus hated that.
He keyed the radio. "Millhome, this is Atlas Actual. We have possible coordinated movement through side tunnels. Keep second element at gate. Prepare fallback defense."
Tomas looked toward him. "We continue?"
Marcus listened.
No voices.
No movement.
Only water dripping into shallow pools.
He considered withdrawing and returning with a larger force, but the captives below had called for help. Every delay increased the chance they would be moved deeper or killed.
"We continue to the holding chamber," he said. "No farther."
Selvar nodded quickly. "It should be beyond the next slope."
The team advanced again.
The tunnel narrowed, then opened onto a stone bridge spanning a deep crack in the earth. The bridge had no railing. Darkness swallowed the drop on both sides, and cold air moved upward from below.
Atlas crossed one at a time.
Halfway over, a Collector climbed onto the underside.
The first soldier saw hooked limbs curl around the edge near his boots and fired downward. The creature released the stone, shrieking as it fell into darkness. Its clicking continued for several seconds before fading.
That single shot triggered movement throughout the cavern.
Collectors poured from the side holes.
Not dozens.
Seven.
Perhaps eight.
The first two rushed the rear element while three more climbed the walls toward the bridge. Their pale shells flashed under rifle lights as Atlas opened fire.
The confined space amplified every shot.
Tomas fired controlled bursts into the first creature’s joints, shattering one front leg and forcing it sideways. Marcus targeted the softer underside of another as it climbed over the edge. Dark fluid sprayed across the stone. Rolf and the rear guard held the western approach, dropping a smaller Collector that tried to leap from the wall.
"Move across!" Marcus ordered.
The point element reached the far side and formed a firing line. One infantryman remained on the bridge, helping Selvar and the engineer cross while rounds cracked past them toward the approaching creatures.
A Collector struck the bridge from below.
The stone trembled.
Selvar lost his footing.
Marcus grabbed the back of his vest before he fell over the edge and pulled him down onto the bridge. The engineer seized his arm from the other side, and together they dragged him to safety.
The bridge shook again.
A larger shape moved beneath it.
"Something big below us," Tomas called.
Rolf looked toward the drop. "I was happier before knowing that."
The team cleared the bridge just as one section cracked near the western end. Stone fragments fell into the abyss. The Collectors hesitated at the damaged section, unwilling or unable to cross immediately under fire.
Marcus used the opportunity.
"Engineer, collapse the near edge."
A small breaching charge was placed against an already fractured support. The team withdrew into the eastern passage before the engineer triggered it.
The explosion shattered the damaged span.
Several meters of bridge collapsed into the darkness, taking one Collector with it and leaving a gap too wide for the remaining creatures to cross easily.
The clicking turned furious.
For once, the sound pleased Rolf.
The team continued east.
Selvar’s estimate proved accurate.
The holding chamber appeared less than fifteen minutes later.
A pair of heavy wooden doors had been fitted into a natural opening between stone columns. One door remained closed. The other stood partly open, blocked by something on the floor.
A human arm.
Marcus approached carefully.
The body belonged to an Underroad guard who had died while trying to hold the door shut. Deep punctures covered his back. His fingers remained wrapped around a rope tied to the inner latch.
Beyond him, the chamber was full of people.
At least forty.
Men, women, and children sat or lay behind crude barriers inside the cavern. Many had bound hands. Several were injured. A group near the rear looked like surface travelers based on their clothing, while the rest wore the rough garments of Millhome and other Underroad refuges.
For a moment, none of them reacted.
They stared at Atlas in stunned disbelief.
Selvar removed his mask and stepped forward.
"Millhome!"
The chamber changed instantly.
People stood.
Several cried out his name.
A woman pushed through the crowd and nearly collapsed before reaching him. Selvar caught her, both of them speaking too quickly for Marcus to follow.
The missing captives were alive.
At least some of them.
Marcus entered the chamber with Tomas while the squad secured the entrances. The captives looked weak but not beyond movement. Their bindings had been made from the same woven fibers found on the dead man.
A surface merchant stared at Marcus’s uniform and rifle.
"Who are you?"
"Atlas."
The man’s eyes filled with relief so quickly it was almost painful.
"Lord Cedric sent you?"
"Yes."
The merchant laughed once, then began crying.
Marcus turned toward Tomas. "Accountability."
The soldiers counted captives and separated the injured. The medic moved through the chamber, checking breathing, bleeding, and consciousness. Forty-three people were alive. Six matched the missing road group. Nine came from the mill settlement. Five belonged to the river crossing.
Twenty of Cedric’s missing twenty-seven.
The rest were Underroad residents.
"Seven surface captives unaccounted for," Tomas said.
Marcus looked toward the deeper exit at the far end of the chamber.
It stood open.
Drag marks continued beyond it.
A Millhome elder overheard and shook his head. "They took the strongest deeper."
"How long ago?"
"We do not know. There is no sun here."
"Hours? Days?"
"Before the last sleep."
Probably less than a day.
Close enough that the remaining captives might still be alive.
Rolf entered from the western door. "Collectors are gathering near the broken bridge. They haven’t crossed yet."
Marcus checked the time and ammunition status.
They had found forty-three captives.
That was a successful rescue.
Going deeper now risked everyone already recovered.
The decision hurt, but it was simple.
"We withdraw."
The merchant grabbed his sleeve. "There are more."
"I know."
"You cannot leave them."
"We are not leaving them. We are getting you out first."
The man looked toward the deep passage.
Marcus understood the fear.
Once Atlas withdrew, the Collectors could move the remaining prisoners farther below.
Still, forty-three civilians could not survive a firefight through unknown territory.
The rescue column formed quickly.
Those able to walk were grouped around the center. Injured captives went onto collapsible stretchers. Children were assigned directly to specific soldiers so none could become separated in the dark.
The Millhome elder looked toward the deep passage before joining the column.
"What about the others?"
Marcus secured his mask again.
"We come back."
The elder studied him, uncertain whether the promise came from confidence or madness.
Perhaps both.
The western bridge remained broken when the column returned, but Collectors waited on the far side.
More than before.
At least fifteen pale shapes gathered near the darkness, clicking and shifting around one another while testing the collapsed edge. Two larger creatures remained behind them.
The rescue route had become contested.
Tomas looked toward Marcus. "We can hold them while engineers rig a temporary crossing."
"That exposes civilians too long."
Rolf stared into the gap. "There may be another way."
Selvar pointed toward a narrow ledge along the southern wall. "Maintenance path. Dangerous, but it reaches the western side."
Marcus examined it.
The ledge measured less than a meter wide in places and ran above the same bottomless crack. Moving forty-three captives across would be slow, but the Collectors could not reach it easily from their position.
"Safety lines," Marcus ordered.
Engineers anchored ropes into the stone while infantry maintained fire discipline on the Collectors. The civilians crossed in small groups, clipped into harnesses or tied to guide ropes. Atlas soldiers stood every few meters, steadying them against the wall.
The child from Millhome crossed first among the captives.
Halfway along the ledge, the Collectors attacked.
The larger creatures pushed smaller ones into the gap.
Several leaped.
One caught the far edge with two claws and began pulling itself onto the western side. Tomas fired into its exposed head, dropping it back into the darkness.
Another landed on the ledge behind the rescue column.
Rolf turned and fired at point-blank range. The creature crashed against the wall, nearly sweeping a civilian over the edge before an infantryman caught her harness.
The column continued.
One step at a time.
Shots echoed through the cavern.
Collectors fell.
Ammunition dropped.
The last stretcher reached the western side as one of the larger creatures climbed onto the remaining bridge support. Its armor covered most of its body, and the first rifle rounds sparked away without penetrating.
Marcus pointed toward the open mouth.
"Inside!"
Three soldiers fired together.
The creature recoiled.
Tomas placed a grenade into the gap between its lower plates and shoved the rescue column farther into the western tunnel.
The explosion tore through the Collector and shattered the last standing section of bridge.
Stone, shell, and dark fluid vanished into the crack.
The route behind them disappeared.
Nobody stopped to celebrate.
The team pushed back toward Millhome, carrying forty-three rescued captives through the same dark tunnels that had swallowed them days or weeks earlier. Relay stations guided them home, each small device carrying updates toward the forward base.
When Marcus finally reported the confirmed rescue count, cheering erupted through the surface radio.
He barely heard it through the static.
The mission was not over.
Seven surface civilians remained missing.
Dozens of Underroad residents were still unaccounted for.
And the deeper passage beyond the holding chamber continued toward the Nest Below.
Yet as the first rescued child stepped through Millhome’s broken gate and saw electric lights stretching toward the upper tunnels, Marcus allowed himself one brief breath of relief.
They had entered the darkness.
They had found the voices.
And this time, the voices were coming home.
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