‘‘Anybody has claustrophobia, now’s the time to say something,’’ he said, and laughed.
Diane followed him. Neva came right behind her, and Mike brought up the rear.
The entrance chamber was small and filled with de tritus blown and washed in from the outside. The walls were steep solid rock that curved upward and inward to make a dome-shaped ceiling. The entrance didn’t allow much sunlight to filter in, so the twilight zone— the dim area between the light of the outside world and the deep darkness of the cave—came quickly. Diane saw a black hole in the rear wall. She remem bered on the map it led to a short passage and to a larger chamber beyond—the Tail of the Lizard, MacGregor had labeled it.
‘‘Now entering the twilight zone,’’ said MacGregor, and he hummed the theme song from the TV pro gram. Diane glanced in Mike’s direction. He smiled and shrugged.
They had to duck low to enter the new passage. The limestone walls closed in with smooth, undulating shapes with bulges that curved gently like the begin nings of an arm carved eons ago. They were entering the realm of geologic time where the amassing of years was almost impossible for humans, who have been on earth the mere blink of an eye, to wrap their brains around.
Diane loved everything about caves—the an cientness, the wildness, the ornate shapes, the bejew eled and flowered mineral features, cave creatures and even the absolute velvet darkness. The lights from their headlamps made strange shadow puppets of the shapes and protrusions of the wall. Had any of them been overweight, the passage would have been a squeeze. She glanced briefly at Neva. She looked fine.
The tunnel was short. It led into a larger chamber strewn with boulders of various sizes, the largest being the size of a human. The rock face of one wall leaned toward the chamber, looking like it might fall over on top of them. They were in the dark zone now. Without their lights, they would be as blind as some of the creatures who lived there.
Diane turned and examined the tunnel they had just come through so she could recognize it from the oppo site direction. You have to learn how to see in a cave. You can see only in the direction your head faces because your light is on top of your head and points straight ahead. And in the darkness of a cave, the light beam is quickly swallowed up. You don’t get the panoramic view your peripheral vision gives you up in the world of sunlight.
She took another reading of the marked it in her notebook. They all books. Mike had a camera and snapped shots of the formations, making a quick burst of light with each picture. He wrote things in his notebook that looked like chemical notations, from the brief glimpse Diane got of them. Neva drew sketches in her notebook. MacGregor looked like he was writing a novel. Per haps he was, and a cave was where his muse talked to him. Diane could understand that.
The easy trail through the cave was a succession of tunnels and rooms like beads on a string, frequently crossed by other passageways. MacGregor’s chatty na ture was useful inside the cave, for he freely explained what was down each passage they crossed.
‘‘There’s lots of mazes in this cave—little twisting passages that all look alike.’’ He laughed, indicating that he’d just told a joke, or quoted something.
‘‘Zork, an old computer game,’’ Mike whispered to her.
Sometimes they took one of the cross tunnels when it was marked as part of the easy route. They came compass and carried note to a passage that MacGregor called Fish Scale passage and was just what Diane thought it would be—a tun nel that once had water moving through it, creating scallops in the ancient streambed as it flowed. The steep side of the scallops was the upstream direction from which the water had traveled. The small size of the scallops and the curviness of the passage told her that it had been a fast-moving stream. Mike snapped pictures, made measurements and explained the water movement to Neva as she rubbed her hand on the water-carved surface.
Diane continued taking compass readings as a pre lude to mapping. Direction gave her an understanding of the cave. That was how she defined a cave—a direc tional space through rock. Her compass readings hardwired the cave system in her mind, giving her a visual image of it. That made it easy when she got down to actually drawing the maps. With every compass bear ing she took a backsight from the opposite direction to check her first reading, in case the cave had mag netic rocks that influenced the compass, or in case she made an error.
Mike moved ahead. Neva followed, and MacGregor walked quickly to catch up with Mike. Walk slowly in a cave, thought Diane, but she didn’t say anything. This particular tunnel was clear of breakdown, jutting or overhanging rocks. Not much to bump into or stum ble over. They came to another cross passage. Diane tried to visualize it on the map. She walked slowly, looking at every feature of the tunnel.
Mike had taken the lead, following the things he was interested in, and they all followed him. He fre quently checked the map to be sure they didn’t stray into a wild zone. MacGregor seemed to be trying to regain leadership.
‘‘There’s a small chimney up here,’’ said MacGregor. ‘‘Are you game to give it a try, Neva?’’
‘‘I don’t think so—not this time. Anyone notice that the lights are acting funny?’’
‘‘What do you mean?’’ asked Diane.
‘‘I don’t know. I think someone’s light is flickering.’’
‘‘It’s not Mike snapping photographs?’’
‘‘Maybe.’’
‘‘We better check out the headlamps,’’ said Diane.
As they walked, the tunnel changed midstream, so to speak, from a rectangular passage to a rounded tunnel.
‘‘Well, this is interesting,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Funny how the shape changes,’’ said Neva.
‘‘The slope too,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Yeah, I’ve always wondered about it,’’ said MacGregor.
Mike was scrutinizing the walls. He took photos of the change.
‘‘What do you make of it?’’ asked Diane.
Mike grinned. ‘‘I think it’s a place that marks the change from phreatic water movement to vadose water movement. This is why I love caving. Where else would you get to see this?’’
‘‘Ooookay,’’ said MacGregor, ‘‘I’m glad we cleared up that little mystery—yes, sir, I’ll sleep well tonight. What the heck does that mean?’’
Mike had started to explain, when Diane heard a sharp crack. The next thing she knew, MacGregor was staring at her, a puzzled look on his face.
Chapter 44
The first thing Diane saw after hearing the noise was blood dripping down MacGregor’s shirtsleeve. He clutched at his arm and looked at the blood on his hand, confusion showing in his eyes.
‘‘What the hell?’’ Mike saw him and took a step toward him.
‘‘Gun!’’ yelled Diane. ‘‘Get out of this tunnel.’’
She grabbed MacGregor and pulled him into a side passage. Mike and Neva followed on her heels. The lights from their headlamps made chaotic swaths of light across the walls and ceiling. But she could see they were in a large chamber strewn with breakdown. Diane shoved MacGregor behind a large boulder.
‘‘I’m bleeding. Is somebody shooting at us?’’
‘‘Who the hell are you?’’ yelled Mike. ‘‘Are you crazy?’’
‘‘Dr. Fallon, you’re a hard woman to find. Good thing you left maps and directions for me.’’
The voice sounded familiar, but it was distorted by the echo effects of the large chamber they were in.
‘‘What do you want?’’ she yelled.
‘‘I want my goddamn fucking diamonds.’’
‘‘Diamonds?’’ MacGregor’s voice was approaching a high-pitched squeak. ‘‘What’s he talking about? There’s no diamonds in this cave,’’ he yelled. ‘‘I’d have found them already.’’
Diane turned off her headlamp and Mike and Neva followed suit. She reached over and turned off MacGregor’s. The eerie glow of a flashlight radiated around the corner from the passage they just left
.
‘‘I don’t have your diamonds,’’ said Diane.
‘‘You know where they are, and I’m going to haul your ass back to get them.’’
‘‘You know, it’s not safe to shoot off a gun in a cave,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Then don’t give me any trouble.’’
‘‘Detective LaSalle?’’
‘‘Right on the first try.’’
‘‘How did you get here so fast?’’
‘‘I never left.’’
He walked from around the corner, holding a flash light in his left hand just above his left shoulder. He had a gun in his other hand.
‘‘I’m on vacation. I told them at the station up in Buffalo that I was still working on little Alice Little ton’s case, and to forward any calls about it to me. I figured if you ever ID’d the bodies, you’d call the Buffalo police.’’
Diane could see the faint figures of Neva and Mike slowly moving toward LaSalle, keeping out of the beam of his flashlight. No, she wanted to shout at them. Don’t try anything. But they were moving. Damn.
‘‘So you killed Ashlyn, Justin and Cathy?’’ Diane desperately wanted to keep his attention focused on her.
‘‘No. Everett made that little mess.’’
Without warning, he fired and Mike fell. ‘‘No!’’ yelled Diane. ‘‘Damn you!’’
Diane rushed toward him as Neva jumped for La Salle. He’d seen Neva coming, and with the force of his whole body behind it, met her head-on, knocking her flying across a large slab of sloping rock on the floor of the cave toward a black opening.
Neva started sliding. Diane switched on her headlamp as she ran for her. Neva grabbed and scratched at the rocks as she slid over the edge of . . . of what?
Neva screamed. Diane ignored LaSalle shouting for her to stop. She scrambled across the rock and looked over the edge.
Her heart lurched in her chest. Neva had fallen into a narrow slit between vertical rock walls. She was slowly sinking, becoming more tightly wedged in the gap. Below her dangling feet lay only black ness. She was hanging in the opening above a cavern so large that the light from Diane’s lamp did not penetrate it. Diane reached down and grabbed her hand.
‘‘Help me,’’ Diane yelled at LaSalle.
‘‘Leave her and get over here.’’
‘‘Hold on to the crack in the wall.’’ Diane pulled Neva’s hand toward a fissure to use as a handhold.
Neva’s eyes were wide, frightened and panicstricken. Diane pulled Neva’s other hand upward until Neva’s fingers grabbed into the fissure.
‘‘Hold on.’’
Neva’s fingers slipped out and she fell farther into the crack. Diane grabbed her wrist and pulled hard. She felt herself slowly sliding forward toward the edge. If she slipped into the opening headfirst, it would be over for all of them.
‘‘Help me, damn you! You can’t leave her like this!’’
‘‘I work for people who are going to cut me in two with a chain saw—before they kill me. Don’t tell me what I can’t do. I’m trying to survive here.’’
‘‘I have to get some rope,’’ she said to Neva. ‘‘Hold on.’’
Diane pushed back against the rock to keep from sliding.
‘‘Please don’t let me go,’’ Neva pleaded
‘‘Neva, you can do this. Hold on for just a couple of minutes while I get some rope. I’m letting go. Hold on to the rocks.’’
‘‘I’m slipping. There’s no place to hold on to.’’
‘‘I have to get some rope.’’
‘‘I am so scared. Oh, God.’’
‘‘I’m going to get you out of this.’’
She let go of Neva’s hand and scrambled off the huge slab lying on the edge of the crevice. She turned and faced LaSalle.
‘‘We’re going to get my diamonds,’’ he said.
‘‘I’m going to get her out of there.’’
‘‘You get the hell over here, or so help me God, I’m going to shoot you.’’
‘‘Okay, you win. Shoot me.’’
‘‘You stupid . . .’’ LaSalle raised his gun at her and held it there for several seconds. He wavered, then dropped it to hip level. ‘‘Dammit, go ahead, get her out.’’
‘‘I need help,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Well, you don’t have any.’’
Diane glanced at Mike lying on the cave floor. He was trying to move. There was a growing dark stain on his shirt. It looked as if the bullet hit him in his side.
MacGregor was huddled against a rock, whispering a mantra of ‘‘Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.’’
Diane ran for her backpack.
‘‘Don’t for a second think of trying anything,’’ La Salle said.
‘‘With what? We have no weapons. Just rope and candy bars.’’
‘‘Dick,’’ she called at MacGregor. ‘‘Help Mike.’’ He didn’t move. ‘‘MacGregor!’’ That got his attention. ‘‘Mike needs help.’’
Dick MacGregor looked at her a moment, switched on his headlamp and crawled over to Mike.
‘‘He’s bleeding.’’
‘‘Take off your shirt and apply pressure to his wound. Do it.’’
‘‘Will you hurry up?’’ said LaSalle.
Diane didn’t say anything, but pulled a tough, al most new nylon rope from her backpack. She uncoiled it and began tying foot slings on one end using a bow line on a bight, creating two nooses. She dressed and set the knot so the parts were properly aligned and very tight. Neva was about five feet six, and she needed several more feet for a harness. Diane tied handhold loops higher up on the rope.
‘‘My patience is wearing thin.’’
‘‘I’m hurrying as fast as I can. Your diamonds aren’t going anywhere. You didn’t call the Canadians, did you? Just didn’t want me to call and alert them.’’
Diane fished candy out of her pack. ‘‘I’m throwing you a candy bar. Snack on that while you wait.’’ She threw it toward his feet.
He actually said thanks.
Diane secured the other end of the rope around a boulder with a figure eight bend, tying it off with an overhand knot to keep the rope from slipping.
‘‘I see you’re good with knots,’’ said LaSalle. ‘‘Ever ett Littleton was good with knots. His knots never got loose. He was one pissed-off son of a bitch. I told him I didn’t have anything to do with his sister Alice’s death. That was all Ashlyn and Justin trying their to bacco scam on the wrong people.’’
Diane didn’t say anything. She remained focused on what she was doing. If the knots were tied incorrectly, they would reduce the strength of the rope or slip loose. With the rope anchored to the boulder, she went back to Neva, who was literally hanging on by her fingernails.
Neva was stuck at hip level. So far there was room around her chest for her to breathe. Diane had wanted to make a harness around Neva’s chest, but she was too far down for Diane to reach safely without help, and LaSalle wasn’t willing to help. Damn. She untied the handhold loop she had made and tied another one lower on the rope.
‘‘Okay, Neva. I’m lowering the rope beside you, down through the opening. I want you to find the loops with your feet. There are two of them. If you can, put a foot in each loop. If not, put at least one foot in.’’
‘‘I think maybe I broke my right leg.’’ Neva’s voice was very high-pitched and soft. ‘‘Please don’t leave me hanging by my hands again.’’
‘‘I’m going to get you out of this. The rope is going to support you.’’
Diane dropped the end of the rope down through the crevice in the rocks, stopping it with the end loop near Neva’s left foot. Diane took off her flannel shirt and used it as a pad to protect the rope from being cut by the edge of the rock.
‘‘Okay, Neva, find the loop. You need to raise your foot slightly.’’
Neva tried and missed the loop. She whimpered. ‘‘I don’t want to die here.’’
‘‘You’re not going to. Concentrate on puttin
g your foot in the loop.’’
Neva tried again. On the third try her foot found the loop.
‘‘Now you can put your weight on the rope. Hold on to the handholds on the rope.’’
Neva pushed against the rope. ‘‘That’s better. Maybe I can climb out.’’
She strained, pulling on the rope. Diane pulled as hard as she could on her end.
‘‘I’m stuck.’’ Neva started to cry. ‘‘It hurts.’’
‘‘Okay, Neva, I want you to listen to me. Right now you are a cave creature and your only purpose in life is to hang on to this rope. No matter what happens, no matter how tired you get, no matter how much you hurt, the only thing you have to do is to hang on to this rope. You understand?’’
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