Beneath the Mountain

The village sat at the edge of the world, cradled between the mountains like a secret never meant to be found. A place of silence, where the wind carried whispers through narrow streets, and the people spoke in cautious murmurs.

Jessica stepped out of the jeep, stretching her legs as the cold bit at her skin. The altitude made the air thin, pressing against her lungs with every breath.

Olivia adjusted her scarf, shoving her hands into her pockets. “This place gives me a bad feeling.”

Leanna was already scanning the village with her usual sharp-eyed scrutiny. “They’re watching us.”

She wasn’t wrong. The villagers lingered at doorways and windows, eyes shadowed beneath worn hats and shawls. None approached. None needed to.

Jessica exhaled. “Let’s find a place to sit down. Get a feel for things.”

---

The cantina was small with only a handful of wooden tables and a bar where an old man stood polishing glasses with methodical precision. He barely glanced up as they entered.

The place smelled of wood smoke and damp stone. A fire crackled in the corner, fighting against the mountain chill. A few locals sat hunched over their drinks, speaking in low tones that stopped the moment Jessica and her team stepped inside.

They chose a table near the back, where they could see the door. Instinct. Training. Habit.

A woman approached, her face lined with years of hard living. She took their order with minimal words, just nods and wary glances.

Leanna leaned in as soon as she was gone. “They’re scared.”

Jessica nodded. “The question is, of what?”

Yuki, who had been silent since they arrived, finally spoke. “Not what. Who.”

Jessica turned to her. “You think someone’s still up there?”

Yuki’s expression was unreadable. “I think someone never left.”

Their drinks arrived—small clay cups filled with something strong and herbal. Jessica took a cautious sip. The burn was immediate, warming her from the inside.

The old bartender finally spoke. His voice was rough, heavy with years of smoke and altitude.

“You shouldn’t go up the mountain.”

Jessica set her cup down slowly. “Why?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes, clouded with something that wasn’t just age, flicked toward the window. Toward the peaks. “People go up. They don’t come back.”

Leanna’s fingers drummed against the table. “What happened up there?”

The old man shook his head. “A long time ago, men came. Foreigners. They built something inside the mines. Then, one day, the sky burned, and the mountain swallowed them whole.” He glanced at Jessica, his gaze lingering for a second too long. “But not all of them.”

Jessica’s pulse ticked faster. He knows something.

The old man turned away, wiping down the counter as if the conversation had never happened.

Leanna exhaled. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

Olivia finished her drink in one go. “I think we should leave a tip.”

Jessica pushed back her chair. “We leave at first light.”

No one argued.

---

They moved at dawn, the village shrinking behind them as they climbed into the mountains. The air grew thinner, colder, each step pressing against their lungs.

Hours passed in near silence. The terrain was rough, the path barely visible. No signs. No markers. Nothing to show that people had ever come this way. Yet, they had.

By midday, the clouds had thickened, rolling over the peaks like heavy smoke. The wind howled through the valley, a low, keening sound that felt too much like a warning.

Leanna paused, adjusting the strap of her pack. “We should be close.”

Jessica wiped sweat from her brow, her breath fogging in the cold air. She turned, scanning the ridgeline. Something about it made her uneasy.

Yuki stood at the edge of the path, watching the valley below. Jessica caught the way her posture stiffened.

Jessica’s voice was quiet. “We’re being followed.”

Yuki didn’t react. She already knew.

---

The mine entrance was almost invisible, swallowed by time and rockslides, its metal door rusted, half-buried. No signs, no insignia. But Jessica knew. Vanguard had been here.

Jessica paused at the threshold, hand resting on rusted steel. If Ryan had ever walked this path, his footprints were long since buried.

She ran her fingers over the cold steel, feeling the weight of the past pressing in. How many had entered before them? How many had left?

The first clue had been the displaced rocks on the path. Someone had passed through recently. The second was the subtle impression of footprints in the thin dust inside the cave. Too fresh.

Jessica unholstered her 1911, keeping it low by her side. “We’re not alone.”

Leanna nodded once, gripping her own weapon.

Olivia swallowed, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. She whispered, “This feels like the part of the story where everyone dies.”

They stepped into the mine, and the mountain swallowed them whole.