She left the front of the jacket open.
Getting to his feet, Hank put his jacket on. It clung to his sweaty skin. He pulled up the zipper, stuffed a flashlight into a side pocket, and lifted the sledge hammer.
'Are we going to take the hammer and the pick?' Brad asked. He already had the pickaxe resting on his shoulder.
'I guess just one or the other,' Hank said. 'Might as well make it easy on ourselves.'
They decided to leave the sledge hammer and wedge behind. Brad insisted on being the one to carry the pickaxe. Hank lifted the lantern by its wire handle. 'I guess we're all set,' he said, and a tremor passed through him as he turned toward the dark opening of the cave.
He entered first, on his knees and one hand, the lantern held out before him. The twin mantles glared silvery-white and produced an amazing amount of light. He saw the stream stretching out ahead of him until it was engulfed in darkness. The walls around him formed a low, narrow tunnel. Though the ceiling was several inches above his head, he felt it pressing down on him, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. His heart hammered. He gasped for air. But he kept crawling.
'You all right?' Chris's voice. Close behind him.
'Yeah,' he managed.
He heard a clank, apparently the head of the pickaxe bumping a side of the cave.
They're all behind me, he thought. Blocking the way out. Jesus.
A vice was tightening around his chest. He heard a ringing in his ears. He made high-pitched wheezing sounds each time he sucked air into his shrinking lungs.
A hand rubbed the calf of his right leg. Chris. 'God,' she said, 'it's really bad for you. Do you want to go back?'
'No,' he gasped.
The hand went away, and he kept crawling. Though the cave seemed to be crushing him, he could see that it was growing larger. A short distance ahead, the walls and ceiling seemed to vanish. He scurried forward, sprang to his feet, and rushed on to make room for the others to come through behind him. Then, stopping, he raised the lantern high.
The ceiling, jagged with stalactites, was probably thirty feet above him. The walls to his right and left were barely visible at the far extremes of the lantern light. Surrounded by columns and stalagmites, he felt as if he were standing in a forest of rock. The formations gleamed and glistened and cast deep shadows.
'How are you doing?' Chris asked.
He turned around and watched her stand up. The legs of her pants were wet from the knees down. She rubbed her hands on her thighs. She looked wonderful.
'Better,' he said. He was better, though he hadn't realized it until now. He still felt trapped under the weight of the hill, he still struggled to breathe, but he was no longer wheezing and his heart had slowed down somewhat. It no longer slammed inside his chest as if trying to smash through his ribcage. 'It's not… so tight,' he said.
Chris stepped closer, and he swung the lantern out of the way. She put her arms around him, pressed her cool cheek against his. And the vice on his chest loosened just a little more. He curled his free hand over the firm soft mound of her rump. Squeezed it. Then moved his hand up her back as Lynn crawled out of the tunnel's mouth.
The girl stood up and staggered toward them. Her blouse was untied. Her breasts, half covered by the hanging fabric, bobbed and swayed. They stopped moving a moment after she did. Smirking at Hank, she shook her head.
As Brad came up behind her, she fastened a button at her waist, then a second one a few inches higher.
Hank lowered the arm that was wrapped around Chris. She kissed his cheek, then turned around. Hank could still feel the warmth her body had left on him. Too quickly, the cold seeped in.
'How are you doing?' Brad asked.
'Better.'
'You sounded terrible back there.'
'Well, it's not so bad now.' But it seemed to be getting worse now that Chris was no longer holding him.
'Good.' Brad's head tipped back and swivelled. 'This is incredible,' he said. 'You realize, we're the first people to set foot in here since…'
'1923,' Lynn supplied, and looked pleased with herself.
'Man,' Brad went on. 'Just think of it. It's awe-inspiring. I've been hearing about this end of the cave all my life. To think that nobody but us… nobody… has set foot in here during all that time. Hell, my grandfather was a kid in 1923. Incredible.'
'Incredibly creepy is what it is,' Lynn said. She looked around. Her lip was curled up. 'I mean, this is where Elizabeth Mordock bit the big one.'
Chris, who'd stepped around behind Hank while the others were talking, took hold of his left hand. The lightness in his chest eased slightly. He looked at her and smiled.
He gulped a few quick breaths, then said, 'We might as well get going.'
Still kept her grip on his hand as they turned around.
'Up the middle of the stream?' Chris asked.
'The River Styx,' Lynn informed them.
Scanning the lighted area in front of him, Hank saw that the stream itself was lower than its banks and free of obstructions. All the stalagmites and columns and other rock formations, which seemed to surround him, were actually off to the sides of the narrow waterway.
'It'll be a lot easier if we stick to the stream,' he said, and began walking, Chris at his side.
'I wouldn't mind getting my feet out of the water,' Lynn said. The beam of her flashlight poked in among the cones and pillars on the high ground to the right. Hank glimpsed the far wall of the cave, probably thirty feet beyond the shore of the stream. Lynn's light swept to the other side. More of the same. 'Forget it,' she muttered.
Prefers wet feet, Hank thought, to climbing around in all those shadows.
Can't blame her.
'Creepy as shit,' she said.
'I'd thought you might be used to the cavern,' Brad told her.
'Yeah, right. The lighted side. Where there's for christsake a sidewalk. And where there isn't any goddamn stiff. '
'I don't think we'll run into the stiff,' Brad said. 'It's supposed to be at the bottom of a chasm.'
'Yeah, well, it's here just the same. I don't have to see it to know it's here.' She splashed up behind Hank, appeared at his side, and wrapped her fingers around his upper arm. The arm carrying the lantern.
'I need this for myself,' he said.
'Sure.' She let go, but stayed beside him.
The stream was really too narrow, Hank soon realized, for the three of them to walk side by side. Though Lynn often nudged him, he refused to give ground and force Chris over. Let Lynn be the one crowded against the bank. Maybe she'll get tired of it.
When they came to a thick truck of rock on the stream's edge, Lynn turned sideways to squeeze by. Her backpack hissed against it. Her left breast rubbed against Hank's upper arm. 'Excuse me,' she said, and edged out in front of him. The rubbing had brushed the blouse off her breast. Her nipple, jutting out like a fingertip, nearly touched the lantern's glass chimney. Hank quickly swung the lantern out of her way, though it crossed his mind that he might've let her get burnt as a lesson. Saying 'Woops,' she covered herself.
'Maybe you should stay up in front of us,' Hank said. 'Or go back with Brad.'
'Yeah,' came Brad's voice. 'I'm all alone.'
'Too bad, so sad.' Sidestepping, she grinned at Hank. Her pack hit another stalagmite. Yelping, she twisted around and flopped facedown into the water.
Chris groaned. Brad started to laugh.
Hank, pleased but worried, said, 'Are you okay?'
Gasping, 'Oh shit, shit, shit!' she pushed herself up to her hands and knees. Chris hurried forward, clutched her arm, and helped her up. 'God damn!' Lynn turned around. Hunching over and shivering, she looked down at herself and shook her head.
'Did you hurt yourself?' Chris asked.
'Yes! No.' With a whine in her voice, she added, 'Shit, I'm soaked.'
Her dark hair was matted across her forehead. Her face dripped. Her blouse was dark and clinging to her chest and belly. The front of her pants hugged her l
egs.
'Let me carry the backpack,' Chris offered. She held it while Lynn squirmed out of the straps.
Brad came forward and stopped beside Hank. He was still chuckling. 'Fall down go boom?' he asked.
'Eat my shorts.' She plucked the blouse away from her skin as if its touch were repulsive. Then she opened the two lower buttons and took it off.
Brad whistled.
'You don't have to watch,' she said. She used the dry back of her blouse to wipe her face, her arms, her chest and large pale breasts, her belly and sides.
Though Hank watched, the sight of her stirred no desire. She had a fine body, he couldn't deny that. But he felt embarrassed that she had stripped like this in front of Chris. He was annoyed, too. Her fooling around, acting the tease, had led to an accident that might've been serious, an accident that was delaying their progress through the cavern, postponing the moment when he would reach Paula.
'Hold this,' Lynn said, and handed her blouse to Chris. Making no attempt to cover herself, she staggered toward Hank. 'The lantern,' she muttered. Hank was holding it down at his side. He raised it as she approached with outstretched arms.
'Careful,' he warned her.
She stepped close to it, and looked as if she might hug the glowing lamp to her chest. She sighed. 'Ah. Ah, that feels good.' Her head tipped back. She shut her eyes. Her mouth hung open. She might have been standing under a shower, luxuriating in its hot spray. She took long, deep breaths. She began to rub her breasts.
'For the love of Christ,' Hank snapped.
Her eyes shot open.
'Put on your jacket and let's get going.'
She gave him a hurt look. 'I was just trying to get warm.'
'You're getting me downright hot,' Brad said.
She scowled at Brad, then pulled apart the sleeves of the jacket tied at her waist. Backing away from the lantern, she put the jacket on. She tugged its zipper up to her throat and said to Hank, 'There, are you happy now?'
'Can we go?'
Chris, coming up behind the girl, met Hank's eyes. She shook her head, grinned, and tapped Lynn on the shoulder.
Lynn took the wet blouse from her. 'What are you smiling about? You think this is real funny?'
'I'm just happy for your boobs,' Chris said. 'I'm sure they're a lot warmer now.'
'Hardly far.' Lynn tied the sleeves of the blouse at her waist. 'You're a real laugh riot. I don't know what I'm doing here anyway.'
'You don't have to stay,' Chris told her.
'Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you.'
'You're holding us up,' Hank said.
'I fell. Or doesn't that mean anything to you?'
'I'm sorry you fell, but…'
'Do you want me to leave?'
Here's my big chance, Hank thought. Say yes, and she'll probably go.
To his amazement, he realized that he felt sorry for her. She was somehow like a kid, a troublesome brat, but a brat who was starved for attention, approval, even love.
Don't go soft, he told himself. She's a pain in the ass, all that won't be the end of it unless you get rid of her.
'Well?' she asked. 'Just say the word, and I'm out of here.'
'I don't know. Will you behave?'
'Behave? Are you shitting me? You sound like my old man.'
'I believe,' Brad explained, 'that Hank is asking you to stop acting like a bitch in heat.'
'Spare me, huh?'
Chris put a hand on Lynn's shoulder. 'You don't want to go back alone,' she said.
Lynn stared at her. No smart remark came out.
'Let's get moving,' Hank said. 'Take the lantern, Lynn. You can lead the way, and the thing'll help warm you up.'
Nodding, she took the lantern from him. She turned around and began walking upstream, her shoes making soft splashes. Brad followed, the pickaxe resting on one shoulder. Chris put her hand in Hank's. They walked up the stream behind Brad.
They were in shadows. Though Hank could see the brightness ahead, the dark seemed to be pressing in on him. Sometimes, when Lynn passed a bend in the stream and high rocks blocked the light, he felt the cavern shrinking. His heart hammered. He struggled to breathe. When the brightness bloomed ahead of him again, the pressure receded slightly.
He wished he hadn't given the lantern to Lynn.
At least she's out of our hair, now, he told himself. Then he realized her annoying antics had been such a distraction that, for a while, he'd forgotten he was in the cave.
I ought to thank her, he thought.
Ought to hurry on ahead and catch up with the little twit and encourage her to start flaunting herself again.
'Do you smell that?' Chris whispered.
He sniffed the dank air. Though he'd been inhaling it, often frantically, from the moment he crawled into the cave, he hadn't given any thought to its smell. Now, he did. And detected faint odours he hadn't noticed before. 'My God,' he muttered.
'It smells like… faeces. And rotten meat.'
'Must be…' He fought for breath. 'Animals. Must live in here. And die.'
The hooch was suddenly on top of him, crushing him. Not just the hooch, but his gunner, Willy Jones. Blackness. A stench of shit. He knew Willy was hurt, felt the blood running all over him. It didn't take long to realize Willy was dead. But he couldn't move, couldn't get out of the blackness, couldn't get out from under the body. Which started to rot.
'Hank? Hank!'
Chris was in front of him, shaking him, then clutching him tight to her body as he shuddered and wheezed.
Light came. As he began to recover, he saw Brad and Lynn in front of him, staring with alarm.
'I'm okay,' he gasped.
'You're in no shape to go on with this,' Brad said.
'Maybe we'd better all turn back,' said Lynn.
'No. Got to…'
'It's all right,' Chris whispered close to his ear. 'You're all right, now.'
'What set him off?' Brad asked.
'We were talking about that odd smell.'
'Yeah, what is that smell?' Brad asked. 'I just started noticing it, myself.'
'Death,' Hank muttered.
Chris rubbed his back.
'Can't be nothing dead in here,' Lynn said, sniffing the air. 'It's all closed up.'
'So what's the stink?' Brad asked her.
She shrugged. 'Does smell a little like shit, I guess. But that's impossible.'
'Not just shit,' Brad said. 'It's like there's a rotting carcass.'
'Elizabeth Mordock? Maybe we're close to that chasm.' Lynn, still sniffing, started to look around as if searching for it.
'She's been dead sixty years,' Brad said. 'She's got to be nothing but bones by now.'
'Maybe we'd better get out of here.'
Brad looked at Hank. 'You going to flip out again?'
Flip out.
Hey, this guy's flipped out.
Well fuck, wouldn't you?
That's what they'd said, the Marines who pulled him out. Pulled him out after an eternity that had actually lasted three days - the time it took to recapture the base camp after it had been shelled by the NVA and overrun.
'I didn't flip out.' Hank told Brad. 'You don't know what the fuck flipping out is.'
He felt Chris go rigid, as if shocked to hear the hard words spew out. He stroked her hair. Some of the tension went out of her body. She ran her hands down to his hips. 'You okay?' she asked.
He nodded. 'Let's keep going.'
They parted, and he saw Lynn shaking her head. 'Not me. No way. This is getting too damn weird. I mean, you're throwing fits and… and it doesn't smell right in here. It didn't smell like this before, and that means something's up ahead and I mean it must be dead and stinking, whatever it is, and I don't want to find out. No thanks. It's not like they even need to get rescued. If you don't get to them, they're just gonna get taken up in the elevator shafts so what's the point anyway? It's stupid. So from here on, you can just count me out.' She thrust the lantern toward Hank. He took its wir
e handle. 'Adios.' She turned her flashlight on, and stepped forward as if to pass between Hank and Chris.
'Wait,' Hank said.
'You're not going to talk me out of it, this time. Huh-uh. I'm getting bad vibes about this place, real bad. So you guys enjoy yourselves.'
'Hold on. Chris, maybe you'd better go with her. Brad and I can go on ahead, if he's still willing.'
Brad nodded.
'I'm not leaving,' Chris said.
'I don't need an escort,' Lynn said. 'I'm a big girl.'
'I'm staying with you, Hank.'
'Something's very wrong about all this,' he told her.
'I know.'
'This part of the cave is supposed to be closed up. Isn't it, Lynn?'
'It was till we knocked through the wall.'
'No other way in or out?'
'Not supposed to be.'
'Well, something has been decomposing in here.'
'And taking dumps,' Lynn added.
'It's turning nasty,' he said to Chris. 'I've got… bad feelings, myself.'
'Well, I'm going with you.'
'Bye.' Lynn stepped between them and started to run.
Looking over his shoulder, Hank saw her dashing down the middle of the stream, the beam of her flashlight jumping around the rocks. Then she disappeared around a bend. The sound of her splashes faded.
'Let's stick close together,' Hank said.
Holding the lantern out ahead of him, very aware of Chris gripping his other hand, he started walking. Brad stayed close behind them.
Though Hank still had some trouble breathing, he felt as if all his senses had been put on alert.
There was danger here.
Danger that he could feel, that he could smell in the subtle foulness of the air.
The cave no longer squeezed him. He wasn't in a cave, he was in the jungle, on patrol. He didn't know what to expect, so he expected anything.
Midnight's Lair Page 17
