Unlawful Chase

by C J Schnier

  My new surroundings surprised me with how different it was from the previous chamber. It was another sinkhole, but that is where the similarities ended. Instead of sheer cliffs, the hole looked more like a crater; the sides sloping up from the depressed center. Ahead of me, what appeared to be a beach consisting of smooth pebbles rose out of the water towards yet another cave peeking out from behind the few hardy plants calling this place home. On either side of the cave entrance I could see faded paint, more artwork left by the indigenous Taino people. It couldn't be coincidence, this was all part of the same cave system.

  The game isn't over yet, Jaye Mercury. I'm coming for you.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I dragged myself up the pebble beach, grateful to be out of the water and back into the warmth of the jungle. The sky above was changing from blue to gold, dappled with clouds hanging low and pink. Nightfall was coming fast, and I needed to get moving. Hurriedly, I sat down, untied my soaking wet shoes from my belt loop, and slipped them on with a wet squelch.

  No longer concerned with stealth, I pulled the flashlight from my pocket and made my way towards the cave, pushing aside the low bushy palms and vines. The cave was beyond black, pulling me in with its darkness as I approached. The opening was short and narrow, almost tunnel like. And, like the entrance above, carvings and paintings lined the walls. There was only one way to go, forward. I took two deep breaths and allowed myself to shiver against the cooler air of the cave. Then I moved into the pure darkness beyond.

  My path took a few turns, first to the left and then back to the right before gradually sloping upwards. The beam from my light played back and forth from one wall to the other as I neared the top of the ramp. The walls spread farther and farther apart as I went, leaving a massive black hole in front of me.

  I kept to the right wall, hoping to find a split in the path that would take me back to where Jaye had tossed me in the water. The reality of my unpreparedness struck me like a baseball bat. I knew nothing about this cave system. Nobody did. There could have been a cave-in blocking my escape, or it could be a maze with dozens of paths branching off. I only had one source of light, no food or water, no extra batteries, and absolutely no safety equipment. I was breaking all the rules of caving, just as I had broken all the rules of freediving a few minutes before. It's a good thing rules are meant to be broken, I thought.

  Tales of caving accidents bubbled to the forefront of my mind. Explorers like Floyd Collins, John Ogden, and others, all of whom were much more experienced than me, had died in caves. What the hell was I doing here? I was a sailor, not a dwarf. My place was on the sea, not inside of a mountain.

  Self doubt hit me like a wave, but like every good waterman, I let it roll off of me. Doubts and misgivings wouldn't do me any good here. Burying all of my negativity, I moved on. Worst-case scenario: I could retrace my steps and attempt to climb out of the crater-like hole. At least now I had a fighting chance at survival, and with any luck, I might still recover the idol.

  The cave steadily widened. Blackness devoured the thin beam of my flashlight whenever I let it wander from the floor or walls. The ceiling, which had been low enough to cause me to duck, now retreated to unknown heights.

  Curious indentions speckled the walls of the mammoth underground room. There was something unnatural about them. The spacing was too regular and precise, and the carvings were unlike any of the symbols or images I had seen elsewhere in the cave, covering each indention.

  I shined my light into one of the odd recesses, and a ghastly face grinned back at me. I jumped back, fumbling and nearly dropping the flashlight in my surprise. Recovering control of the light, I shined it back in the hole. It wasn't a face, at least not anymore. It was a skull. The rest of the skeleton lay in a chalky heap below it.

  It was dusty and brittle looking, lying on its side. The ribs had long ago collapsed into a pile. The legs were bent and the arm outstretched as if asleep. Only the deathly grin of the skull broke the sense of peacefulness.

  I probed another niche and then another and another. Each contained the remains of a body, and when there were two, they were placed facing each other in a permanent embrace, like lovers in an eternal slumber.

  My light revealed hundreds of the small alcoves cut into the rock. As I walked through the room, I could see distinct differences in the carvings that adorned different areas of the tomb. They've been burying people here for generations, I realized. The style of carvings changed after every twenty graves. I followed the progression of deaths until I came across what looked to be the sharpest and newest of the carvings. Here, dozens upon dozens of open graves stretched around the enormous room, all in the same style.

  The skeletons were not laid out in as peaceful of a manner as the rest. Their bones told a different story than that of their ancestors. This looked hurried, almost desperate. Some of the last graves, which nearly butted up to another passageway leading out of the tomb, were unfinished and devoid of carvings. It was as if the people had died off so fast they could not keep up. This is what genocide looks like, I thought.

  Suddenly, the reason for the Taino wanting to preserve part of their culture made sense. These people had lost everything. They had watched their friends and family die, their culture and way of life collapse. Sickness from the invading Europeans would have devastated the population, leaving them in chaos.

  The weight of these people's grief was nearly tangible. It descended upon me, smothering me until I could not breathe. Unable to take it, I fled from the room, using the nearby passage, continuing on through the cave system.

  Thoughts ran through my head as I gasped for air. Why would anyone want the last remnant of these people? Why would anyone want a monument of death?

  As a youth growing up in The United States, I was familiar with the concept of genocide. We'd all learned about the Holocaust, the near eradication of the native Americans, and some other ethnic cleansing programs throughout the world. But I had never seen the aftermath of it. I had never had to confront the reality of death on such a massive scale, and it unnerved me.

  I knew the Taino people were extinct from the conversations with Pruitt and Blatt. I hadn't realized how quickly they had been wiped out. Removing the idol, the soul of the Taino people, now seemed a vile sacrilege. I wanted nothing more than to allow it to remain undisturbed. But I knew that was impossible.

  If I didn't take the idol, Jaye Mercury would. And if not her, General Bardales would find it, eventually. The location was out, and while not precise, it was only a matter of time. At least if I found it, the Taino would not be forgotten. I'd also get paid and avoid a Cuban prison. Both of which were substantial marks in favor of recovering the idol. Self preservation is a powerful motivator. It didn't feel right, but it had to happen.

  Knowing the idol was my only chance, I pushed off the wall and forged ahead through the adjoining section of the cave. I had to reach it before she did. The next chamber was small, and unlike most of the cave, boasted a smooth flat floor. I sped up to a slow jog, and after a few dozen feet, I found myself in another massive room.

  There were no niches or alcoves cut into the barren, smooth walls of the room. No paintings or carvings adorned the surfaces. My light danced from surface-to-surface until it landed upon a flat-topped pillar of rock standing three feet tall. An object, small and round, rested on top of the rock.

  A smooth gray stone sat on top of a plate of gold. Under it was a single scrap of paper, too pristine to belong in a four hundred-year-old tomb. Upon closer inspection, I saw it contained English writing.

  It simply read, "You're too late!" in neat block print. Below that, in smaller scribbled writing: "Sorry for throwing you off a cliff."

  "Damn!" I shouted out loud. Mercury had once again outplayed me. I let the momentary anger pass and collected my thoughts. She had beaten me to the idol, which meant I now needed to find her before she left the island. The idol was too important to let fade into obscurity. The hundreds of bodies in
terred in the previous room deserved more than that.

  A quick scan of the room's walls showed there were two exits. The one I had come through, and one other directly across from it. She must have doubled back the way she came. Time was ticking, and with every second she came closer to escaping.

  I rushed down the passageways, no longer giving the now familiar Taino artwork even a cursory glance. There was only one thing on my mind. The cave would occasionally open up from rock-choked entrance ways to reveal small rooms, forcing me to stop long enough to check for alternate passages. The pathway remained linear, and I only lost a few seconds at each chamber until I came to a vast chasm.

  A simple plank bridge spanned the gigantic crack in the floor. Made of ancient wood and fiber ropes, it looked like it was from the set of a movie. There were no handholds, and it was less than three feet wide. How did these people carry bodies across this thing? I thought as I tested the first plank with my weight.

  The board creaked and the whole bridge swayed and moaned under the pressure of my weight, but it held. Even though Jaye must have crossed the bridge twice, I probably weighed fifty pounds more than her. But there was no other way across, and time was wasting. All I could do was hope the bridge could handle the extra weight.

  It was roughly twenty-five feet long, anchored to large square stones at each corner. Five careful steps brought me to its middle. The ancient structure sagged and quivered under my unsteady legs. I made the mistake of looking down and felt my legs tremble more violently. I had never liked heights, there was a reason I lived at sea level.

  The black void stretched out below me as my vertigo increased. Forcing myself to concentrate, I put one uncertain foot in front of the other. My heart skipped with each creak and crack. Step by step, the far side grew closer, only two more steps to go.

  A loud snap reverberated off the chasm walls, and the bridge heaved. I dropped to my knees to avoid being thrown off. A cacophony of sounds erupted from the far side of the chasm. Abandoning all semblance of safety, I threw my flashlight and made a desperate leap as the bridge dropped out from under me!

  I landed on the edge of the chasm, desperately clawing for a handhold as I slid backwards towards the abyss. My fingers clamped around one of the remaining planks of wood and I prayed it wouldn't break as I got my other hand on it and hoisted myself clear of the cliff. The ancient wood creaked and groaned, drowning out my grunts of exertion. Carefully, I drew one knee over the ragged stone edge of the cliff and then followed it with the other.

  I am really beginning to hate this cave, I thought as I rolled over to safety on my back. I wanted nothing more than to rest and collect my thoughts, but I settled for a quick self evaluation. My ribs ached from where I had landed against the rock, but they were not broken. My hands throbbed where my mad scramble had scraped away their skin, and I probably used up a couple of years' worth of heartbeats. Just another day at the office.

  There was no time to revel in my narrow escape from the jaws of the pit. Jaye Mercury had the idol and a significant head start. I couldn't lay there and let her get away. Every second mattered. I rolled to my feet, groaning against the soreness in my chest, and retrieved my flashlight from beside a cluster of delicate-looking stalagmites.

  I resumed my dash through the cave, ignoring everything except the path leading slightly upwards. There were no offshoots or other cave-ins, and except for a few loose rocks, the floor was clear enough to allow me to make excellent progress.

  The level of darkness didn't change much when I came upon the massive sinkhole like it had been earlier in the daylight. A quick glance up showed a black sky and millions of stars. Sporadic wisps of torn clouds glowed silver, illuminated by a mostly full moon. They gave me hope for a dry and easy trek back to the village.

  Leaving the sinkhole behind, I sprinted through the now familiar cave and out into the relative brightness of the jungle night. A moment later I was crashing through the brush in pursuit of history and the biggest payday of my life.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Navigating the jungle would have been difficult with a manicured trail. Trying to follow a path carved out by machete in the dark was nearly impossible. It had been easy enough when I was high on the mountain where the vegetation was thinner. With less canopy coverage, I had used the moon to help guide me. But once I had descended back into the tropical rainforest, the moonlight disappeared completely, and with it, the path too disappeared.

  My flashlight was no use either. It was too bright and its beam too focused. I dared not turn it on. The risk of being seen was too great, and I doubted that the thick foliage and underbrush would conceal such a powerful light.

  Roots and rocks rolled under my feet as I slipped and stumbled down the mountain, hoping that I was on the correct path. The squawking birds had all gone dormant with the setting of the sun, and each sound that I made hung long and loud in the thick night air. Unseen branches slapped me in the face, forcing me to duck and weave as I descended.

  Despite my clumsy progress, I knew that Jaye Mercury would have just as much of a hard time. All I could do is hope that I was at least keeping up with her pace. If I was lucky, I could close the gap between us. Once out of the jungle, I could only think of two places for her to go. The hotel or her plane. My bet was on her returning to the hotel first. That is where I would catch up with her.

  Once or twice I thought I had lost the path, but somehow I stayed on it. Progress down the mountain was faster than the ascent, but it was rough on the joints and my knees and ankles were threatening to give out with each step. By the time I had made it back to the rocky stream where the soldiers had almost found me, the pain had become a constant distraction.

  I came bounding over some rocks near the stream and almost bumped into two men. I had forgotten about Bardales' patrols. One man was a few yards away, leaning against a rock with his back to me, taking a leak. The other was sitting with his back to his comrade, a mere six feet away from where I had burst from the trees. His rifle was already up and pointed at me.

  Reacting instantly and without thought, I ducked and feinted to the left and then leapt and rolled forward and to the right, closing the distance. The closest man shouted something as I popped to my feet next to him and grabbed the barrel of his gun. Instead of trying to pull it from his grasp, I pushed backwards violently, pushing him off balance. In one fierce motion I then yanked the weapon forward, bringing him with it, and smashed my elbow into the side of his head. He let out a weak grunt and went limp, releasing his rifle.

  A quick glance towards the other man was all I needed. Taken completely by surprise, he still had his pants undone as he scrambled to retrieve his own weapon. The thought of shooting him popped into my head, but I dismissed it immediately. A gunshot would bring more troops. No, it was best that I handle the situation as quietly as possible.

  Not bothering to readjust my hold on the gun's barrel, I swung it with all of my might. The butt stock of the rifle caught the unlucky soldier in the back of his head as he stooped to pick up his gun. He collapsed, driven to the ground by the force of the blow. The entire event was over in less than ten seconds.

  Even in the darkness I could see blood already running from where I had hit the second soldier. Fearing that I had killed him, I knelt to check if he was alive. I grabbed his wrist and found a weak but steady pulse, and then I noticed his torso rose and fell as he lay in the rocky dirt. He was breathing and his heart was pumping. He was alive, but he was going to have a hell of a headache whenever he came to.

  It's about time I won a fight, I thought to myself as I gathered up the men's rifles. I ejected the magazines from both and tossed them into the jungle to my left. Then, I racked each rifle, making sure they were empty, and threw them into the jungle as well.

  The first man was already starting to stir behind him. A low, painful groan escaped him. It wouldn't be long before he was back on his feet and looking for me.

  I took off down the mountain pathway
again, now moving at a reckless pace. My legs were pumping as fast as I dared, all thoughts of joint pain erased from my mind. I knew those two soldiers would be pissed when they woke up, and I knew they would come after me. I just hoped they wouldn't call for reinforcements. Shouts and Spanish swear words filled the jungle moments later. Yep, they are definitely pissed off.

  I increased my pace, no longer caring if I stayed on the tiny pathway or not. I knew the direction of the village, and I was pretty certain that I could find it in the dark. Limbs and vines slapped and scraped at me from every angle. Somewhere I had missed a turn. Now I was just running blind through the jungle. I kept my eyes straight ahead, giving myself every chance I could to navigate my way through the thick foliage. Moonlight suddenly shone through the trees ahead. Oh shit! The cliff!

  An expanse of unbroken air opened up through the trees and forced me to come to a sliding stop a foot from the edge. In front of me was three hundred feet of open air straight down to the jungle treetops below. Behind me, I could hear the crashing and shouts of the soldiers closing in quickly.

  Desperately, I hung my head over the edge and looked at the face of the cliff, but it was too steep for me to climb and the soldiers would pick me off long before I made it to the bottom. There was nothing but a dark wall of trees and bushes to my left. That left me with one option. Go to the right. Damn cliffs. Like I haven't had enough cliffs for one day.

  I fought my way through the growth, careful to avoid a misstep that could end in a three-hundred foot free fall. The men following me must have noticed my shift in direction, I could hear them angling to cut me off. I had to come up with something soon, or I was taking a one-way trip to a Cuban prison.