by Judith Price
“I think so. The needle spikes are almost all gone.” Jill hobbled towards Jake, bent down in front of the stone icicle and sliced his zip-ties. It took all of two seconds to free him. He stood up quickly and leaned over her. “Give me your wrists.” He grabbed the scalpel from her and worked on the thick rope. He was almost through when he heard something. He stopped and looked in the direction where Matthew left. He saw no light, but heard movement. He must be close. Jake worked faster and cut the last strand of string.
“Come on, we gotta go.” He pulled Jill by the elbow. She leaned on the giant stone icicle and watched as Jake grabbed her neatly folded clothes and shoes beside the workbench. He rushed back over to Jill and began to dress her, as if she were a child. “Here, lift your foot and put it in here.” He pointed to her shoes.
“I’m fine.” Jill snapped back. She pushed her foot into the last shoe and said, “Where do we go?” She looked over at Jake’s swollen face. His right eye was practically shut. “Can you see?”
“Yeah,” but Jake felt groggy. “He went out that entrance,” He pointed. “He’ll be back soon. We’ll need the light.” Jake walked over to the light, but it was fixed to the wall. He moved to the workbench and began to fumble through the items. He picked up a gallon size jug and read the label –alcohol. No doubt to clean his tools. He cringed. The room swirled and Jake swayed trying to regain his focus.
Jill stepped forward and grabbed the jug out of Jake’s hand before he dropped it. “You okay?” Jake just nodded. She reached over and grabbed Matthew’s mop handle resting against the stone wall. She took a small towel that was neatly laid on the workbench and wrapped it around the end of the mop handle. “No, we’ll use this one.” Jill picked up a different jug that was full of lamp oil and doused the towel. “We need fire. You still have that lighter, you know, that stupid Zippo you kept flicking open and closed that night at the bar?” As if waking from a trance, Jake reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the shiny silver lighter.
“You’re going into shock, Jake,” She grabbed the lighter and lit the makeshift torch. Leaving Jake leaning against the workbench, she strode quickly to the first opening in the cave’s room and held up the torch. The flame stood straight at attention. She moved to the next hole in the wall. Still, no movement from the flame. It wasn’t until the last hole that they watched the flame pull itself into a ninety-degree angle. “Bingo, lets go.”
Another light flickered in the dark tunnel behind them. It was him. “Jake,” she grabbed at his sleeve and tugged. “This way. Now!”
Seventeen
The tunnel smelled like old shoes. Jill held the flame high as they shuffled quickly through it. After about one hundred feet of twists and turns, they stopped and listened. “I don’t see any light. Maybe the sound we heard wasn’t him?” The flame on the torch burned faster and forward as if pointing them to an exit. “We gotta keep moving.”
They started in the direction of the flame when Jill stopped fast. Her shoe hit something wet. She angled the torch down and saw a river of water. She didn’t know how deep it was, but they couldn’t stop now. They couldn’t go back. They had to keep going. Jill looked at Jake. His head was bleeding more now and his breathing came faster. “Come on, Jake, try and slow down your breathing. If you are going into shock your body needs to absorb the oxygen” Jake stumbled slightly and used his right hand to catch himself on the tunnel wall.
“Here, grab my waist band. There’s water up ahead and I don’t know how deep it is. Hold on, don’t let go,” Jill pressed. She lifted the torch up high and scanned the tunnel ahead. “There, see?” The torch illuminated their path and she thought she could see the end of it. “Come on,” she huffed.
Cold water pierced her feet, then her shins, like shards of thin glass. She walked toe-heel-toe-heel-toe-heel, moving slowly in the murky water feeling her way along the base of the tunnel. Suddenly, Jake pulled back hard and splashed down into the water almost pulling Jill in after him. “What the …” Jill regained her balance, squatting slightly, so that she wouldn’t fall in after him.
Jake splashed as he fought to stand up in the shallow water. Jill turned and held the torch in front of him. “Let me help you.” She reached out and gripped his solid bicep and yanked him up. He held her shoulder attempting to get his bearings. Then he brushed his wet hair away from his one good eye. “Grab my waist band again. Stay close.” Jill hesitated to listen. Nothing.
They sloshed quietly following the pull of the flame. With each step forward the water began to recede and they stepped out of the tunnel into a cave similar in size to Matthew’s chamber of horrors. The cave ceiling hung low, and under different circumstances she would have admired all the beauty of the stalactites and stalagmites in the cave system. The golden limestone-saturated water had to have been dripping there for centuries.
Jake was still unsteady on his feet as Jill led him over to a giant stalagmite. “Sit here and rest.” Zombie-like, he complied. “We only have two choices to get ourselves out. Wait here. Don’t move. I’m going to check them out.” Jill knew they were running out of time. Surely Matthew had returned to the cave by now. Surely he’d travelled these caves before. There was no time to waste. There was no time to take the wrong tunnel. Jill looked up at the torch. It was embers now.
“Here, take this.” Jill reached over and put the lighter into to Jake’s shaky hand. All he could do was nod and shiver. “You need to stay awake, Jake. Make sure you stay awake.” But she knew how bad he had gotten hit. She was surprised he could even walk.
Jill rushed towards the first tunnel opening and held up the torch. The embers on the torch glowed slightly stronger. Then she walked four feet to her left and held it up again. Red embers glowed stronger than she’d seen in the first tunnel. Jill hesitated, but instinct nudged at her. She stepped into the mouth of the second tunnel, stopped, and turned. “Jake,” she whispered. “Jake?”
After a pause, she heard a groggy, “Yeah.”
“I’ll be right back.” She turned and walked into the dark abyss.
Eighteen
Jake
What the hell is wrong with me? Jake thought. I’m a friggin feebee, not some pansy-ass chick who sees dead people. Jake sighed feeling his swollen eye with his right hand. Yup, it was swollen shut and he hoped he hadn’t lost his right eye. How could he have been so stupid, not to trust Jill’s vision? He should have had backup. And for a moment, he thought of Tracy. Would she come looking for him? Probably not. It was the end of her workday and he knew that she would be out celebrating an anniversary with her husband. It dawned on Jake to reach his left hand to check his holster. It was empty. He hadn’t seen a gun in Matthew’s cave. He must have it on him?
His heart raced. Racing too fast for the effort he was making. He was in great shape. He had to slow down his breathing. He knew one of the first symptoms of shock was an elevated heart rate. He’d slow down his breathing. But he was tired, very tired. And if he slowed his breathing down any more, surely he would pass out.
The cave was dark, and other than the sound of his breathing, all Jake could hear was the trickle of water. Then he heard something. Was it an echo? Jake held his breath. There it was again. An echoed sigh. Or was it? Trickle, drip, trickle, drip. He held his breath then listened again. Nothing.
He fumbled for his lighter, turning it upright. He was shivering from the dampness and from sitting on the cold cave floor. When he finally managed to open it, he placed his thumb and pulled at the gear—it barely made a sound. A flame flicked on. He held up the lighter and scanned the dark cave. The light danced on the cave walls. He looked to the left to where Jill had gone. Maybe she was coming back? How long had she been gone?
He pinched the top of the lighter lid with his thumb and index finger and closed it, dousing the flame. He sighed. He couldn’t see anything in the blackness of this goddamn cave. The room began to spin. He placed his hands on his hips trying to steady himself. Nausea crawled up his stomach.
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He didn’t know how much time passed when he heard the sloshing sounds. He knew he was drifting in and out of consciousness. But for how long, he did not know. His mouth felt dry and he tried to lick his lips. He heard a soft sound. Slow gushing. Gush, slurp, gush, slurp. The sound was so subtle that if he hadn’t been concentrating on stopping the cave from spinning, he might have missed it. He held his breath and waited. Nothing. His kept his good eye open, but he couldn’t see anything in the darkness. A wave of air moved past him as if someone had turned on a small fan. He heard a sound. Was it a pop? Was it a shuffle? Was it Jill?
Then he heard a crack. It was unmistakable, like someone cracking a knuckle or a knee. His right hand slightly shook as he lifted the lighter, slowly opened the lid, and thumbed the gear. He pulled it once. Nothing. Pulled it again. The flame flicked on. His eye focused. Jake blinked at a man wearing goggles not more than ten inches from his face.
He thought he felt pain in his left eye. He knew something had happened. The lighter fell from his hand and clinked onto the cave floor.
Nineteen
Soft music played and Andrea Bocelli’s voice echoed throughout the dining room. Red velvet curtains hung heavy, outlining the sheer covered windows. Outside, a gust of wind flipped the signboard against the shutters that read ‘Malandrino's Fresh Italian Bistro’.
“Olsen.” Tracy snapped into the phone.
“Agent Olsen, this is Eric Wallace from the RV team. I’ve been trying to reach Jill Oliver. Is she with you and Agent Acker?”
Tracy sucked the last inch of spaghetti between her lips and mouthed the word “sorry” to her husband who was sitting across the table from her. Eric continued. “I went past her house after what happened the other day. Not sure if you heard about that drug scum that broke in to her house, but anyway, she wasn’t there. So I figured she must be with you two?”
Tracy looked at her watch: 19:50. She sighed into the phone. “Last I heard from Jake he was following up on some crazy lead generated by one of your team members. Guess it must’ve been Jill. I wouldn’t worry, didn’t think much of it. Had to do with some cave expedition company out by where they had found the bodies. That was a few hours ago.” Tracy looked down at the cooling Bolognese pasta and rested her fork on the plate. “Maybe they stopped for dinner or there’s no mobile coverage or something.” Tracy picked up her glass of Merlot and took a sip.
Eric piped up. “I eh … I wouldn’t call it a crazy lead, Agent Olsen.”
This made Tracy slightly straighten. “What?”
“Well, I think Jill’s viewing was quite accurate. The team had finished the viewing summary and …” Tracy leaned her elbows onto the table and rolled her eyes at her husband. “Ah, it’s pretty clear that all the viewers sketched similar targets, albeit it in slightly different ways. But they all point to that cavern. I did more research after the viewing summary and it does appear that the team targeted the Luray Caves. Out by Luray.” He finished.
“There’s more, Tracy. Jen’s sketch also included a man lying on the ground inside the cave. She drew the figure with an ice pick protruding from his face.” Tracy sighed again and shifted. “And that’s not all.” He said hurriedly. “The figure had a distinguishing acronym on its chest.” A pause. “It had three letters. FBI.”
Twenty
The dark cave cast shadows as Jill passed each curve. Jagged limestone shards dripped from the ceiling. A stone fountain frozen in time took up the full wall in front of her and lit up as she passed. She had to get out. She had to find a way.
She was moving quickly now, but not fast enough for her thoughts not to catch up. Stale air passed silently in front of her. A dark thought invaded Jill’s mind. She stopped and looked at the low light that remained of her torch.
Rattled, she shook her head as if trying to shake out the image. She was there again, imagining that she was in that dark room. But it wasn’t a room. What was it? In her vision, she could see through the steps of a porch. She was watching for someone. Her heart pulsed rapidly. But who was it? Then she heard heavy foot falls down the steps. A man. A woman. “Where is she?” the large man slurred as he shouted.
“I don’t know, that little bitch will hide just about anywhere.” She slurred back.
“You promised me a performance.” He belched.
“Oh, come on back in,” she mumbled. “She’ll be back soon.”
“Fuck that,” he shoved her and started grumbling towards the dirt road ahead of him. “Tease, bitch,” he slurred.
***
Jill jerked around. She thought she heard a faint scream. Who was screaming? She stopped and waited. Nothing. Jill shivered. I’m losing my mind. I gotta keep focused. Maybe I am going into shock, too. Still, whatever the sound was, it was creepy. Jill looked up at her torch. It was almost dead now and she was no closer to finding a way out.
She had to go back. Jake had the lighter. It would be better than nothing. She had a steady shiver now, her breath fogged the air as she pussyfooted back in the direction of Jake. She held the torch slightly to the right of her head as the air sucked embers behind her. This had to be a way back. Had to be.
She stopped abruptly when she thought she heard a sound. Scuffling? Was Jake moving around? She guessed she was only fifty yards away. She could see no flicker of light. She waited another thirty seconds before she continued. She was glad she did. As there it was again—shuffling. Water gurgling.
What the hell was he doing? I told him to stay put. He’s probably passed out and the idiot is drowning himself. Why the hell did I trust him? Why the hell did I want to come along anyway? I’m a remote viewer, not an FBI field agent.
The thought she tried to avoid, flooded her mind. Could it be the Iceman? She couldn’t see any light. She had to stay focused. Grounded. But what if the Iceman was close? She glanced up at what was left of her torch. He’d see her coming—if he was around. She made a decision as she worked her way quickly through the tunnels. Just before the last bend, she stopped and listened. If she moved around this bend, the reflection of the red embers would surely be seen. The faint sound of dripping water clogged her hearing.
She wanted to call out to Jake, but she knew she couldn’t. She had to think. She had to move. She had to survive. The last of the lit embers floated to the ground. She began to move again. If she remembered correctly, around this last corkscrewed bend, she’d be several feet from the mouth of the cave. She held up the mop handle in her right hand. With her left hand, she grazed the cave wall to guide her.
When she reached the mouth of the black cave, she stopped. She listened. Seconds passed, but she knew what she heard. It was Jake, breathing rapidly. Relief flushed Jill. She figured that he was about eight feet from this tunnel entrance. She stood silent, determining his location from his breaths. Yes, it was breathing all right. His breaths seemed to increase in tempo. She couldn’t wait any longer. They needed to get out of this goddamn hell hole.
“Jake,” she whispered. “Jake, flick on the lighter so I can see where you are.” Silence followed. “Jake!” She spoke a little louder. She continued to inch her way towards his breathing. She remembered the giant stone icicle that she had perched him up against. “Jake!” she said a little louder than she should have. Jill held the mop handle out in front of her and tapped it on the ground like a blind person’s cane.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Then a different sound reverberated from the tap. The stone icicle. She leaned over and felt the side of it and slowly crouched running her hand down to where it curved into the floor. What the hell? She could feel a warm spot. But Jake was not there. She waited and listened lifting her head. Then she thought she heard a giggle. She whirled the stick in the air like a ninja before she felt the crack on her skull sending her downward. She fell face first, smashed against the large icicle, and hacked out a tooth. The taste of blood was all she knew before she passed out.
Twenty-one
The rail hung in the dimly lit room. Matthew was meticulously
cleaning his instruments. Rubbing them harder and harder. They clinked each time he picked one up and put it down. He cleaned them over and over and over again.
He glanced over his shoulder and looked at Jill who was now bound tight where Jake once was. He’d wait it out. See if she’d vomit. After all, he didn’t want her dying on him before he had his fun. She was spitting blood and he was thankful that he had not put her on the rail. Well, not yet anyway.
Matthew wondered about this woman. She was feisty for such a small package. The thought of her being a worthy adversary thrilled him. But Matthew wasn’t stupid. He knew what to do.
And that moan. He felt her moan travel down into his groin. Vaginas were full of bacteria and Matthew would never even consider sticking his prick in her. But that moaning. The fear. He felt his erection coming.
Her head drooped. Her arms and legs hugged the stone icicle.
Matthew leaned over her. “Now look at what you’ve done.” He raised her chin in his hand. “Not so pretty with no front teeth.” He released his grip and Jill moaned when her face hit the hard rock. “I don’t like it when people change my plans. Lucky Mandy the manager,” he spat.
He began to pace around the cave and for the first time realized something: Mandy saw these cops, he wasn’t worried about her. But the receptionist Sylvia knew they were there. Someone would ask questions. There would be an investigation. He had to think. He started rubbing his forehead back and forth. He paced faster now. He immediately marched over and grabbed Jill’s chin. Her eyes glared open. “Who else knows you are here?” He yelled. “I said, who else knows you are here?” Jill blinked then spat blood in his face. Matthew dropped her chin. This time Jill held it and softly placed it back against the rock.
