They all looked northeast, expecting to see a second dark cloud rise up. But nothing happened. Still, King thought they were connected. Whatever was causing the ground to shake had begun at the Durrington Walls.

“How far is it?” he asked.

“Two miles straight shot from here to there, but a little more if you don’t have wings.” Her face brightened. “I can get you there in three minutes if you don’t mind getting your hair mussed.” She looked at King, his hair slightly askew as usual. “Which I can see won’t be a problem for you.”

She cheerfully walked to the bus, though her walk was now closer to a skip. She hopped in the big red double-decker, turned on the engine, and gunned the gas twice. A thick cloud of gray coughed from the muffler. She leaned out the window. “C’mon, mates. I have forty-five minutes before I have to take these Yanks to the next stop.”

Alexander motioned to the bus. “After you.”

They entered and took seats behind Lauren. Then they were off, speeding back onto the road. She glanced at them in the large rearview mirror. “It’s always boggled my mind why people are so much more interested in Stonehenge than the Durrington settlement. Granted, the stones are something to look at, but when it comes to history, the village is far more informative. What they ate, how they cooked, what they slept on, what weapons they had. It’s all boring details to some, but it reveals who lived there. Who knows, maybe Merlin’s magic wand is buried in that field’s dirt?”

King thought her statement might not be far from the truth, then held on tight as she made a hard left turn.

“What’s really interesting is that both sites were constructed at the same time as the pyramid of Cheops in Egypt.”

“That is interesting,” King said.

“The sites are thousands of miles away from each other and somehow, around 2500 B.C., people simultaneously developed the technology to move giant stones over long distances? Bollocks, I say. And we still can’t figure out how they did it.”

Alexander pointed beyond her. “We’re here.”

Lauren hit the brakes hard, bringing them to a stop across the street from a green field, which was now scarred by a dark hole at its center.

They left the bus and entered the field. The hole opened up before them, thirty feet across, burrowing into the soil at a forty-five-degree angle. Darkness filled the void, but echoing from deep within was a constant droning rumble.

King took a step in and turned to Lauren. “Best if you notify the authorities. Get the Stonehenge parking lot cleared out.”

“What? Why?”

“Because this tunnel heads southeast and we’re not feeling the rumbling here like we did there. Whoever made this hole is beneath Stonehenge by now.”