Cave Eggs

CAVE EGGS

A coppery scent infused the air as I warily crept forward. A sound like horses stepping on twigs echoed from the tunnel ahead, but this deep in the cave system that sound just didn't make sense.

All I saw as I entered the chamber ahead - smaller than most of the others I'd ventured into this week - were piles of rocks. For an instant I pondered the low ceiling, and whether it would suddenly drop on me, leaving me only partially crushed, to starve in the darkness once my lamp's batteries went dead. I remembered the story about the hiker was hit by a boulder and was forced to cut off his own arm with a survival knife or else starve to death alone in the wilderness. Could I do such a thing to save myself?

The snapping, cracking sound shook me from my imaginings, back to stark reality. Why was it so warm in here, too? No breeze coursed through here, resulting in a stable temperature and the linger of that metallic-organic odor.

My ears told me the sound emanated from somewhere in here, with me, but my eyes wouldn't tell me where. I trained my lamp's furtive cone of light on a nearby pile, looking like a pyramid fashioned of rust-brown, basketball-sized boulders.

A sudden cracking assailed my ears, and I winced. Whatever made that sound, it was in that pile. I shuffled closer, feeling the cold sweat in my coveralls.

I swear: a rock moved. An involuntary yelp escaped my throat, and the amber orb of light cast forth from my lamp coursed everywhere, across the rough ceiling and worn floor.

Stabilizing myself on my knees, I gripped the lamp with both hands. The pool of light quivered as I slowly moved it back to the rock pile. More clattering followed, along with the scraping of something akin to metal on stone. It dissipated and I swallowed.

Where was that pile of stones? It was there just a moment ago. In place of the former pyramid, there was now more of a ziggurat. Its flat top conspicuous and - to me - terrifying.