Page 16 of The Hive Queen

I turn carefully to take the lead. The path is so narrow that I have to suck in my stomach to stop the holster on my back from brushing the wall on my right.

I flick my red light around as I walk back to the last place the path split, where I pull out an aerosol can from my tool kit. Slowly, I spray the white mist into the path ahead, and catch a flicker of light.

“We have a tripwire,” I whisper. “Knee height, one yard in.”

Murmurs of acknowledgment come from the others, and I walk forward, carefully stepping over the light.

I continue forward, slowing my pace to compensate for them having to go over the tripwire so I don’t get too far ahead.

My heart beats faster as I near the basement door, and a moist, rhythmic sound drifts up from its depths, like a bellow filled with water. I take several deep breaths, willing my pulse to slow. I was on a limited food diet to help reduce the smell of sweat, but adrenaline does crazy things to the body’s chemistry.

A spray of my white mist reveals several tripwires guarding the door, along with a few old-school alert systems in the form of cans on strings. It’s a good thing we’re not here to kill the danguri, or we’d have a hard time sneaking up on it.

I breathe easier when the wet sound of the danguri’s sleep fades behind me, and I carefully traverse the maze down the alternative path. My internal compass says we’re on the right track circling back toward the front door, and a moment later, the stairs come into view.

Here, the collection of trash teeters precariously, and my first step up makes the pile near the banister tremble with the threat of falling.

“Keep your steps light.” I creep up the stairs. “The hoard itself is a trap.”

I put my weight on the third to the top step, and it sinks beneath my boot. Quickly, I pull back and hold my breath as the wall on my left shifts, then settles.

Pulling my shotgun from its holster, I use the butt to press on the step above.

“Do we have a problem, Marc?” Savannah asks from farther down the stairs.

“There’s a weak board, third from the top.” I lean my weight on the shotgun, but the step above doesn’t give. Cautiously, I move from the fourth step to the second, and it holds my weight. I take the final stair up and enter the south tower. “Just skip the step. The rest are fine.”

“Got it,” Trent grunts.

I turn in a circle, shining my light around the room. One good thing about all the shutters being closed is we don’t have to worry about the neighbors calling the police to report strange lights.

Just like the first floor, trash lines the walls and the center of the room, with a narrow walkway forming a ring around it. When not bringing in new items to add to its hoard, the danguri spends its waking hours coating its treasures in musk and making sure everything is where it’s supposed to be.

I tip my head back and shine the light at the ceiling, searching for the promised access to the rafters.

I spot it at the back of the room, close to the wall, which is less than ideal. A small mercy is that the pile beneath it doesn’t rise all the way to the ceiling.

Savannah and Trent step into the room with me, and I point to the opening.

“We’ll have to lift someone above the trash to reach it,” Trent says.

We both turn to Savannah, who shakes her head. “I weigh more than the old man.”

“But I’ve got vertigo,” he counters. “You throw me up there, and I’m more likely to fall on the hoard than get into the ceiling.”

They both turn to me.

I holster my shotgun. “Boost me up, you sorry excuses for treasure hunters.”

“Hey, Jerry’s the acrobat.” Savannah flexes her biceps. “We’re just here to look pretty.”

We take up a position as close to the ceiling access as possible, then Savannah and Trent crouch and grab my legs. On the count of three, they stand, and I fling up a hand to catch my balance against the ceiling.

Hand over hand, I walk my upper body to the panel and push it up, then slide it off to the side. I grasp the edges and twist as I lift myself into the ceiling.

Savannah lets out an appreciative sigh. “Any time you want to leave your team, I’ll take you on.”

“I’m telling Elizabeth you said that,” Trent threatens.

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