The feeling of being watched abated, but it didn't go away.
If anything, it now felt less like someone or something was staring at him and more that the environment itself, the quarry, the forest, the air even, had somehow gained awareness and could sense him moving through it.
And it didn't like him.
It was a paranoid thought, a crazy one, but it was there nonetheless. Kane ignored it all to the best of his ability, instead focusing almost viciously on maintaining his situational awareness. This was the perfect environment for a surprise attack. It was darker than ever now. No sunlight, no moonlight, the stars now hidden behind a thick cloud cover. The rain was coming down a bit harder. The soft staccato pattering of it came from every direction, a constant white noise. He stalked away from the collapsed mine entrance and the main office with its disturbing message, towards the elevator. It was still a good distance away.
Kane had spent a lot of time alone in his career.
He'd had to put up with a great deal and as such he'd built up quite a tolerance against things like discomfort, fear, hunger, sleep deprivation. So why was he feeling this way? On the surface it made him ashamed, but below that it worried him. He saw two possible scenarios to explain this level of anxiety and fear. Either something had gone wrong in him, or something was wrong with his environment.
What he was feeling felt almost...external. As if it was being imposed on him, almost like a side effect of radiation or some noxious gas. Had the Covenant developed some new psychological warfare tactic? He knew there were certain frequencies of sound that were just below the threshold of human hearing, but not so low that they could not be sensed. Being exposed to these produced inexplicable feelings of dread and apprehension. Was that what was happening here? It wasn't impossible, but it seemed unlikely.
Then again, this whole thing had felt weird from the beginning.
Kane picked up the pace. He wanted up and out of this damned quarry. He played his light across the surrounding environment, but there was just more wet gravel, distant rainwater-slicked walls of rock to his left and right, and the occasional piece of evidence of a mining operation. He spied a few more crates that looked like they'd just been dropped, an industrial yellow forklift, a pair of mostly empty supply sheds.
He paused as his light revealed a bright yellow hardhat.
It had blood on it.
Kane approached the hardhat and knelt. He pushed it with the barrel of his SMG, flipping it over. There was more blood on the inside. Feeling an uncomfortable cold creeping up his spine, he got back up and did a three sixty, looking around. He remained alone. Kane picked up the pace again, this time jogging the rest of the way. A few minutes later, he'd found the elevator. He approached the broad metal shaft.
Clearly it was a cargo elevator, meant to bring down vehicles and back up shipments of whatever it was they produced around here. It was cut right into the rock wall. And it was without power. Kane figured it out as soon as he stepped up to the control panel. The elevator was not in its dark nest. He could just make out the flat, dull metal baseplate high overhead. He sighed, returning his attention to the control panel.
He spied a thick black cable sprouting from the back and followed it with his light. Maybe thirty feet away he spied the squat chromed form of a generator. Okay, well, he could deal with that. Kane set off, the gravel crunching beneath his feet, the rain continuing to fall all around him. He kept seeing that bright yellow, bloodied hardhat in his mind's eye. What had happened? It was possible that there had been some kind of accident, but…
But.
Could something else have happened? What? He looked around at the stark, rainy gloom that enshrouded him and imagined things moving in that darkness, just beyond his light's reach. Things with tentacles and snapping mandibles and razor claws. He shook his head, hard, and returned his attention to the generator, which he was closing in on. He shut those thoughts down with a harsh effectiveness that years of military service provided. Just nerves, he told himself, or tried to anyway. Kane focused on the generator.
Here was a problem he could fix.
Well, hopefully.
He crouched down by the device, studying it, checking it over to see what had gone wrong. It might just be that power was out in the region. What would he do then? Well, either see if there was an emergency ladder in the elevator shaft or find some way into that mine. Not that he wanted to. Not after...he shook his head, that had to be some kind of hallucination. But he'd never experienced a hallucination before.
Kane found the problem. The generator's energy cell was dead.
Well, he could fix that. Provided he could find some a spare cell. He stood up and played his light across the environment. There. Maybe fifty feet away, a supply shed. He began making his way over to it. While he did, Kane activated his radio. He tried reaching out to his team once more, and this time, he received a slightly clearer response, and it sounded like Hux for sure, but when he tried to respond, the signal faded, then died.
And he was left alone with static.
It made him feel a little better at least. The man might be nearby, and Hux, despite his asshole nature and bad attitude, would be welcome company after this quarry. Kane reached the shed and opened the door. The interior was dark and cramped. The left side of the small room was taken up by a pair of workbenches, the surfaces of which were scattered with greasy spare parts and oily tools. There was a stack of crates to the right.
And there, on one of the workbenches, was a power cell.
"There we go," Kane muttered to himself, retrieving it. He studied the solid, heavy square of black and silver metal and technology. The little screen on the side indicated that it was full power. Okay, perfect. Kane turned, mentally reviewing what-
There was a dark figure standing in the doorway.
Kane let out a startled shout and dropped the cell. Even before he could grab for his gun, the figure was gone. It flashed out of existence with a fresh lightning flare.
"Goddamnit!" Kane snapped, shaking from the adrenaline surge. He took a deep breath and let it out, then knelt and retrieved the cell, hoping it wasn't broken. But these things were built tough, and it was still intact despite his mishandling of it. Kane carefully left the shed, SMG now in one hand, cell in the other, but still his isolation persisted. Thankfully, nothing happened on the trek back to the generator.
He made sure that the generator was in the off position, took out the dead cell, set it aside and slotted the new one. Once it clicked home and he closed the panel back up, Kane reactivated the generator. It hummed to life, and over to the his right, a few work-lights attached to the elevator shaft flared up, punching holes in the obsidian curtain. He felt a stupid but very real sense of relief at the sight of it.
Upon reaching the lift, he hit the down button on the control panel. Somewhere high overhead, gears started to turn and grind, power hummed and the huge flat lift began to lower. Kane looked around, back into the quarry, suddenly paranoid that his activity, (or more basic than that, his success), would draw unwanted attention. It wasn't an entirely irrational thought, but it stank of ritual more than it did of rational.
The lights revealed less of the quarry than he thought they would, almost as if the darkness was somehow thicker here on Darkholm. Seconds bled into minutes. The sense of tension from before was more powerful. Kane kept as vigilant a watch as he could, but nothing showed up as the lift settled into its nest. And there was nothing waiting on it for him. He quickly stepped aboard and hit the up button, riding the loud, slow lift back to the surface.
Finally, he was out of the damned quarry.
It felt like he'd spent ages down there, but according to his chronometer, little more than forty minutes had passed. He tried to clear his head as he rode the lift, tried to refocus on the mission, on his objectives. Right now, he had to either reestablish contact with his team or reunite with them. Then they'd probably have to at least investigate the status of the locals. He imagined that Goll would send him and two others off to the Marine outpost if they couldn't raise them on the comms while he and the others recovered the data drive.
That was, provided, things went as they were supposed to.
He had an idea that they weren't going to.
The lift finally reached the top. Kane played his light across the way beyond, as there was only one work-light on up here. For the most part, all he saw was trees. They seemed to be everywhere, extending away in every direction. However, there was a single structure up ahead, as well as a road that moved away to the left and a pair of well-worn paths that led off into the forest. Kane began to consider what to do next.
However, the decision was made for him.
He was aware of a presence about a second before a familiar voice called out: "Identify yourself!" It was Hux.
"Corporal Kane," he replied.
The team's resident medic walked out of the woods off to his right, lowering his SMG. "What the hell are you doing walking around with your damned flashlight on, Kane?" Hux snapped as he approached, coming to stand arm's length from him.
"My VISR is dead," he replied. "I think that purple pulse knocked it out."
"Purple pulse?"
Kane frowned. "Yeah, it lit right as we were coming down. Knocked me off course. It's why I was down in the damn quarry. I think it might be screwing with my radio, too."
"I didn't see any purple pulse," Hux murmured. He suddenly glanced behind him. "You seen anyone else? Civvies? Marines? Anyone?"
"...no," Kane replied after a moment. He almost told him about the strange, burned figure he'd seen in the mineshaft, but he didn't think it counted. Nor did he want Hux to think he was coming unhinged. The medic was already concerned enough about Kane's mental status. God knew he'd given the guy enough ammo over the months towards recommending him for a Section Eight. "I found some weird shit down there, though."
"Weird shit?"
"Found a hardhat with blood on it, and it looked like there was an altercation in the main office down there. What about you?" he asked.
Hux grunted, again glancing around. "I dunno, thought maybe someone was tailing me...come on, I was going to check that building out." He turned and began walking towards the low, rectangular structure up ahead. As they neared it, Kane realized it was a simple public bathroom. They headed into the men's side first.
"What have you been doing since touchdown?" he asked.
"Trying to get in touch with the squad, or anyone, really," Hux replied. He sounded frustrated and agitated. "But my radio's been pretty crap. I thought I heard you a few times, and I did manage to get a partial transmission from Sergeant Goll. I caught that he wants us all to regroup at the Ranger's Station, which is about a mile north of here. So we at least have an objective."
That bolstered Kane's spirits a bit as they searched the men's room. Nothing there but a lonely row of empty stalls, sinks and urinals. They headed back outside and crossed over into the women's side. "I checked out some cabins on the way here. Two of them were empty, like they hadn't been used in a while, but the third one seemed like someone had been there, and they'd been...taken," Hux continued. "So we've got that to deal with."
"Great," Kane muttered.
In the end, the public restroom yielded nothing worthwhile. The pair of them moved back outside and lingered at the edge of the forest, staring into it. Neither of the paths, nor the road, headed to the north, and time was a factor.
"Well," Hux said, "let's get to it."
"Uh-huh," Kane muttered.
They began walking into the dark, mist-shrouded woods.