Free The Bone Labyrinth by James Rollins

this set of caverns might lead to that abyss and a way out of here.”
    “Wrightson believed it might,” Gerard said. “But it’s never been fully explored.”
    “How far away is that town?”
    Roland answered, “About seven kilometers as the crow flies.”
    That’s over four miles.
    She felt a sinking despair.
    “I have ropes, climbing gear, and extra batteries in my pack,” Gerard offered.
    Trying to stave off panic, she stared down at the rising water. “What if the rest of that cavern system is equally flooded?”
    “ Je ne sais pas,” Gerard said with a shrug. “I do not know, but here it is definitely flooding.”
    Roland turned to her. “What do you want to do? If you wish to remain, I will stay with you.”
    Lena flashed her light toward the mouth of the tunnel, pondering the unknowns that lay out in that darkness. But the French soldier was right. Better to head off into the unknown than stay here, where death was almost certain.
    She straightened her back and faced the two men.
    “Then let’s go.”
    4:04 P . M .
    Gray clutched a handgrip near his shoulder as the helicopter jostled roughly through the storm. Rain swept in heavy sheets across the window canopy, threatening the ability of the craft’s wipers to maintain visibility. Though sunset was still a couple of hours away, a heavy cloak of black clouds hugged the mountaintops and turned day into night.
    Next to Gray, the pilot struggled with his controls as the rotors chopped savagely through the harsh weather. Winds continually buffeted the small craft, seeming to come from all directions at once as they fought higher into the Alps. Finally they cleared a mountain pass and a scatter of lights appeared in the next valley.
    “Ogulin!” the pilot yelled through his radio, swiping beads of sweat from his brow. “That’s as far as I can take you in this storm. Reports say the weather is even worse in the mountains beyond.”
    Gray turned to Seichan, who lounged in the rear cabin, seemingly unperturbed by their turbulent ascent into these mountains. She shrugged, accepting this change of plans just as readily.
    Half an hour ago, the two had landed in Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, where a local pilot and helicopter had been waiting for them. The hop to the coordinates of the missing French unit should have taken only fifteen minutes, but the storm had doubled that flight time and now threatened to pummel them back to the ground.
    Gray faced around, preparing to browbeat the pilot into continuing onward, not wanting to lose any more time. The longer they delayed, the more likely they’d lose any trace of the research team and their guards. But as he stared at the black skies, at the crackles of lightning forking over the mountaintops, he sank back into his seat.
    “Take us down,” he conceded.
    The pilot nodded, blowing out a sigh of relief, and lowered the craft toward the lights scattered across the bowl of the valley.
    “I can land in a field at the edge of town,” the man said, pointing. “I’ll radio for a car to meet us. Once the worst of the storm blows out, we can try again. But it’ll likely be morning at the earliest. I can arrange a hotel in the meantime.”
    Gray barely heard him, already adjusting the timetable in his head, seeking alternatives. “How long would it take to reach the site on foot?”
    The pilot cast him a skeptical look. “You can take a car to the village of Bjelsko. It’s only six kilometers away. From there, it’s a hike of forty minutes. But that’s in good weather. In this storm, through those dense woods, with the trails washed away, it could take hours, and you could just as easily get lost. Better to wait out the storm.”
    As if to punctuate this recommendation, a hard gust pounded the helicopter, jolting it to the side. The pilot returned his full attention to landing his craft in the field.
    Gray reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. He used his thumbprint to decrypt its contents and