Breathing

The echo of a sledge pounding brick came reverberating past the narrow stairwell like the torpid footsteps of a colossus. Each beat was both thunderous and soft, as steel met stone, first cracking, then grinding and finally milling all in one fluid motion of the bulky Edgar Lusk's arms. With the finality of an arbiter's gavel, he dropped judgment on each brick, clearing the first layer in less than an hour.

Edgar Lusk was the sort of knuckle dragger that Professor Norcutt would normally have taken great lengths to avoid acknowledging but on this day Norcutt howled commands at Lusk as well as his associates. Lusk worked for William Hayle, the man that was called by most "Breaker Bill" and Breaker Bill was currently under the employ of Prescott Research Group and under the direct control of Professor William Norcutt.

In the case of Norcutt, Breaker Bill had found that William did not equate to Bill, as it did in his own case. In fact, I had been there the first time the chief of the destruction crew had called the Professor "Bill", and the savage look from Norcutt that followed made me cringe inside. I did not fear the Professor physically, but he had looked to be hungering for murder in that moment.

For as long as I had been studying at Prescott, Professor Norcutt and his boot-licking assistant Quentin Kellogg had seemed to have a problem with anything and everything I did. In fact, my first week at the Group, I politely disagreed with the Professor on a matter of relevant findings in Wales that had recently been unearthed, and for it I received ridicule and chastisement in front of my peers.

When the Professor asked me along on this dig, I could hardly believe my luck. When we bussed out from Manchester to the decrepit farmhouse in the Welsh countryside I learned the truth of it. Norcutt only wanted me along so he could have someone to shoulder the burdens he would feel bad saddling Kellogg with. As if the lackey would ever complain about a chore issued by the Professor.

I also believe there was to be a fair amount of petty gloating when he uncovered his find, as I had originally dismissed the notion of what he would find here as childish fancy. Norcutt wanted to prove me wrong.

Again the drop of the sledge brought a concussive crack and grind; but this time when the hammer was pulled back away from the cement I heard something different. Something that seemed impossible, terrifying and exhilarating all at the same instant. That first time it was faint, but we would hear it louder as the next few minutes wore on and the layers of brick, mortar and concrete were eaten away. To me, it sounded like the labored breathing of a sleeping dragon.

"Do you hear that?" I rasped through a suddenly dry throat.

Lusk tipped back his hard hat and leveled his gaze at me. Around the room, I saw their eyes all make their way to me, and the quiet conversation they had all been participating in ceased.

"What? I can't hear anything," Lusk growled in his thick Welsh accent.

"Why are you stopping, Lusk?" Professor Norcutt snipped. "Ignore the boy and keep at your work. I want to be through that wall by sundown."

Before the sledge again slammed down on the concrete, I heard another of those faint rumbling gusts, this one followed by a light skitter.