THE CRADLE CONSPIRACY

by Robin Perini

  Trouble whined and pawed at the carpet.

  A steely calm came over Daniel, not complete, but closer than he’d felt in almost a year. Someone was alive and needed him.

  His damn freak-out would have to wait until later. He needed to keep it together now.

  After propping the flashlight so he could see, he shoved several rocks to the side. The smell of blood hit him, nearly slamming him into a flashback, but he fought for control.

  Daniel swept aside the small rocks that covered the carpet, then threw the larger ones to the side.

  “Help me...” The voice faded to silence.

  He grabbed the Bowie from his leg sheath and slashed through the two taped areas with the knife, then rolled the carpet open. A woman, beaten and bloody, lay half-comatose on the filthy carpet.

  Daniel pressed his fingers against her throat and felt the thread of a pulse.

  She was chilled and in rough shape, but alive.

  Relief loosened some of Daniel’s tenuous hold on his emotions, so he quickly ran his hands over her arms and legs, knowing he needed to get them both out of this death trap fast. His examination didn’t reveal any broken bones or severe lacerations on her body, but blood caked one side of her face and hair. The rest of her long hair spread across the carpet like a raven’s wings.

  He’d seen enough of the birds growing up in Texas, and he’d befriended one in Bellevaux while on surveillance. Sitting in the tree above his hideout, for the price of a few breadcrumbs the damn bird had kept Daniel from going insane while he’d been stuck in one location for weeks. After being forced into that godforsaken dungeon, Daniel had imagined the raven’s life. Outside his cell. Outside the prison. Free. Daniel would imagine being free someday like the raven, and used the memory as a lifeline when the world had seemed hopeless.

  Maybe this was a sign?

  Or maybe he had totally lost his mind, and it was just dawning on him now.

  The ground trembled slightly.

  Daniel cursed, then scooped her into his arms and stood. “Let’s go, Trouble.”

  The woman’s eyes opened, gorgeous, fear-filled eyes, the color of cinnamon. “Who are you? Did I come here with you?”

  “I’m not the one who put you here,” he said. A rumble sounded from somewhere overhead. He let out a curse. “We’re in an unstable mine, and we have to get out. Now.”

  Her eyes widened. He clutched her close against his chest and took off toward the bend.

  The mountain shook again, then a spray of dirt and debris showered over both of them before one of the ceiling supports gave way with a loud crack.

  “Cave-in!” Daniel curled her beneath him and covered her with his body, hoping she wasn’t bleeding internally. And hoping to hell the roaring panic slamming through his mind didn’t make him explode. They were being buried alive, and he was losing it fast.

  * * *

  DIRT AND ROCKS pelted the ground around her, but they didn’t hit or hurt her. The man lying on top of her let out a soft grunt, his broad shoulders protecting her from the onslaught.

  The dog she’d seen momentarily, before all hell broke loose in the cave, now sidled up against her and whined, burying his cold nose against her hand. She grabbed its fur, then slowly released her grip enough to pet it, trying to calm the animal’s fears as well as her own.

  The man groaned and shifted against her; the contours of his hips and thighs settled over her, pinning her down. She took a panicked breath. Who was he? She couldn’t remember him, and yet he’d protected her.

  And why had he said he wasn’t the one who put her here?

  She couldn’t be sure of anything with the incessant pounding in her head. Her mind spun with confusion. A bevy of rocks cascaded down the wall, thudding on the ground. At any moment the cave could bury them both.

  She knew they had to escape but couldn’t focus on anything except the feel of strong arms holding her and the hard body shielding her from the cave-in. She couldn’t let reality in because something was horribly, horribly wrong. She was supposed to be somewhere. Doing...something. Something important but she couldn’t remember what.

  Her heart seized, and she struggled to regain control.

  “Hey, you okay?” the man on top of her whispered. “I’m going to try to move and see what shape we’re in.”

  As he spoke, his warm breath caressed her ear, helping her relax a bit. She didn’t know why, but she felt safe with him. Which was stupid, considering where they were.

  The mountain around them rumbled again, and she trembled, gripping his shirt. He wrapped her closer, pressing her cheek against his chest. Despite his calm demeanor, his heart raced. Did he think they would die here? Her head throbbed like the devil pummeling his way into heaven, but she didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to know they were trapped.

  When the tremors stopped, he raised his head. She blinked and stared at his face. The beam from the flashlight had gone dim in the dust, but she could make out his features. Barely. His dirt-filled hair fell over his forehead and nearly reached his chin. The scar down one side of his cheek made him look like a pirate, and the hard pulsing line of his jaw seemed to confirm her worst fears. “Are we going to die?”

  The shadow that swept through his hazel eyes was there and gone so fast she thought she’d imagined it.

  “No.”

  “Thank you, if you’re lying.” She reached up to his face and touched his cheek, his jaw still clenched, contradicting his assurances.

  He met her gaze, and his eyes flashed with gold. “Are you hurt?”

  She tried to sit up, but rocks surrounded them. Oh, dear God, how would they get out of here? She couldn’t breathe. Her head throbbed worse whenever she moved, and her heart thudded against her chest like she had run a sprint. The feeling that she had to do something struck again. What was she supposed to be doing? Every time she tried to focus, pain stabbed through her brain, triggering flashes of light and odd sounds...and terror.

  “My head feels like it’s going to explode, and I’m seeing double. I can’t think.”

  She struggled to rise, and the world grayed. She clutched at his shirt, twisting the fabric hard. She panted and stared at him, unblinking, willing the world to come into focus.

  The first thing she noticed was the bloodstained carpet, and she gasped. “Was I inside that?”

  The man backed away, preparing to stand aside, but she clung to his cotton shirt. She didn’t want him to leave. She needed him close. He was the only thing real in this craziness. “Someone tried to kill me, didn’t they?” she asked, pressing her hand to her bloodied forehead.

  She should know the answer, but her entire mind was blank.

  “I don’t know what happened,” he whispered, his voice deepening. He stroked the back of her hand, his touch gentle but steady. “But you’re fine. Just breathe in. I need you calm for us to escape.”

  His gaze held her captive. He took in a deep but shaky breath.

  She did the same. The dog pushed against her leg, and she curled her fingers in its fur again. Daniel exhaled, and she mimicked him, breath for breath. Unable to look away, she pinned her focus on him, inhaling through her nose, letting her lungs expand and fill.

  Her grip eased a bit on his shirt, but not enough that she couldn’t feel the rapid heartbeat beneath her hand. “Are you okay?”

  Something dark and haunted crossed his face again. A second later it was gone.

  “I’m fine, but you’ve got a hell of a knot on your head.”

  She raised her hand and felt the swelling and the sticky residue. A small whine escaped her. “It hurts.”

  “I bet it does.” He pressed his fingers gently against her scalp. “Why don’t you sit back down and drink while I dig us out.” He tugged a canteen from his belt, tilting it against her lips.<
br />
  Gratefully she let the water sluice down her throat. “Thank you.” Her voice cleared somewhat.

  She took another sip. “How did you find me?”

  “Trouble must have heard you.” The man turned and started pulling stones to the side to clear the passageway.

  “Trouble?”

  “The dog. I’m Daniel, by the way.” He threw a large rock farther away. “And your name?”

  She opened her mouth, and nothing came out. Why couldn’t she think of it? Everyone knew their own name. In an instant the crushing pain was back. The flashes of light. Muffled cries and hazy images. Trying desperately to stop her head from spinning, she clutched the heart-shaped locket around her neck like a good-luck talisman. “Oh, my God...”

  Daniel turned around at the panic in her voice.

  “I don’t know my name.” Her hands clutched at his. “Daniel, how can I not know my own name?”

  Chapter Two

  The dust from the mine filtered the beam from the flashlight, but it was more than enough to let Daniel know they were screwed. Sweat that had nothing to do with exertion slid down his back. He was fighting off a PTSD meltdown and now this. How could he comfort her when he felt borderline psychotic?

  He had to get outside. Fast.

  “What’s my name?” the woman repeated, her voice shaking.

  Daniel’s grip tightened on the rock he held. He hated the fear and bewilderment in her words, and he’d be damned if he let her see his alarm for both of them.

  The blood on her temple oozed again, droplets landing on her dusty silk shirt. Someone had wanted her dead. That person might still succeed if Daniel didn’t dig them out quickly. He had no answers for this terrified woman, and couldn’t give her much in the way of comfort except to wrap her in his arms and hope she mistook his trembling as her own.

  Daniel stroked her dark hair. “You’re going to be okay,” he reassured, knowing his words may not be true. “Once that bump goes down, you’ll remember everything.”

  “What if I don’t?” She shivered.

  He pressed her closer. “You will. It’s common with head injuries to be a little fuzzy.”

  She shook her head, then winced, pressing her hand to her temple. “This isn’t fuzzy. I. Can’t. Remember. My. Name.” She paused, her eyes widening, then she whispered, “I can’t remember...anything.”

  Swearing internally, Daniel gently stroked her black hair and forced what he hoped was a confident smile to his face. “Maybe we should call you Trouble. You deserve the moniker more than the mutt over there.”

  At the sound of his name, Trouble’s head cocked.

  “Or we could go the princess route. Sleeping Beauty might be appropriate.” Daniel kept his tone light, trying to divert her focus...and his. “Except she had blond hair. You could be Snow White. Her hair was black.”

  A small smile tilted the corners of the woman’s mouth. “You’re an idiot, but thanks.” She bit her lip. “Seriously I can’t just pick a name out of thin air.”

  “Then I’ll do it for you.” He studied her amazing brown eyes and once more touched the long, silky strands of hair. Black as night. Or like a raven’s wing... “How about I call you Raven for now? After your hair color. Just until you remember.”

  “Raven, huh?” she said, her voice small and vulnerable.

  “Raven suits you,” Daniel admitted. “It’s striking and unforgettable. Like you.” He pulled back his hand. “Now I have to get back to work.”

  Methodically he picked up one rock after another, telling himself he’d break through soon. But he could feel the churning in his mind and gut. He took a cleansing breath, praying for control.

  His hands grew slippery with sweat. He would not give in to the panic.

  The shrinks had diagnosed him with post-traumatic stress disorder soon after his rescue from Bellevaux.

  Like Daniel hadn’t recognized the symptoms already.

  His combat-vet father had suffered from PTSD nightmares and flashbacks as long as Daniel could remember—until his dad had ended it with a bullet to his brain. Daniel had found him, and the sight haunted him still.

  At the memory Daniel’s heart raced, pounding against his ribs as if it would burst through any second. He closed his eyes to stall another attack.

  A furry nose nuzzled its way beneath his hand. What the hell? Now the dog decided to make friends? Daniel’s fingers curled through Trouble’s coat. If Trouble could work through his issues, Daniel wasn’t about to succumb to his. He had no time to wallow in imaginary fears. Even if they felt completely real.

  “We’ll be fine,” he announced, perhaps as much to hear the words aloud as to calm Raven. But he’d noticed it getting harder to breathe with all the dust. He came upon a few large stones, and he lugged them away, one at a time.

  Each time he rose to his feet, steadying himself on the leg his captors had broken in three places, it became harder. If his leg gave out, they’d be in a world of hurt. He dragged a wooden beam toward the back and bumped into something. He turned, noticing a big painted box with a large letter C carved into the top. One corner of the lid was bloody, with a few pieces of black hair stuck to the surface. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to recognize the match to Raven’s head wound. Besides, kids’ toy boxes didn’t wind up in deserted mines by accident.

  Using the edge of his shirt, Daniel opened the lid. Empty. “Raven? Do you recognize this box?”

  Before she could respond, Trouble snapped to attention. He whined and let out a loud bark, pacing back and forth in the confined space. Another rumble sounded from somewhere inside the mountain.

  “We’re out of time. I think if I pull out a few more rocks, you can get through.”

  She tried to walk, but her legs buckled beneath her.

  He grabbed her, and she held her body stiff. “Forget me. Dig.” She pushed on his chest. “Go!”

  Another rumble resonated through the earth surrounding them. The mine was collapsing. They had to get out.

  Daniel yanked a rock out, then another, speed counting more than finesse now. Within minutes a small hole had appeared.

  He shone the light through the opening. The entire cavern beyond was intact. For now.

  Raven’s small hand clutched his arm as she crawled up beside him. “I can help.”

  “Raven...”

  With two hands she grabbed a rock and tossed it into the pile he’d started. “Shut up and dig.”

  “Stubborn woman,” he grumbled, but he admired her grit.

  They worked side by side, and before long, they’d created an opening large enough for her and Trouble to escape. He peered through the hole. “Can you slide through?”

  She studied the gap. “I think so. What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine. Trouble,” Daniel ordered, “go on.”

  The dog looked at Daniel; then the stupid mutt seemed to roll his eyes. He lifted his paws to the hole and climbed through.

  Daniel grasped her waist. “Go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Your shoulders won’t fit through that opening.”

  “I’ll move a few more rocks, then follow you.”

  She hesitated. “Promise?”

  “Believe me, honey, I want out of here worse than you do.”

  Finally she nodded and reached her arms into the hole. Trouble whined from the other side. Her body slithered through. The rocks groaned in protest and shuddered around her.

  Raven stilled.

  Dust and gravel landed on her back.

  “Don’t stop! Move!” Daniel batted a falling rock away.

  Daniel shoved her hips forward, and she tumbled to the ground with a moan, clutching her head. Trouble nudged her cheek, giving her a quick lick.

  “Hey! Are you all
right?” Daniel asked, as loud as he dared given the avalanche just waiting to happen.

  “Yes.”

  She rose unsteadily and faced him, too wobbly for his liking. He peered at her through the frame of rocks. “Get outside. Stay at least twenty feet from the mine’s entrance.”

  The obstinate woman just shook her head and came toward him. “I won’t leave you. I can dig from this side.”

  Another warning grumbled around them.

  “Look, lady. This place is coming down soon. A few more rocks, and I’m running like hell out of here. I don’t need to be concerned about you, too.”

  She hesitated.

  Daniel tossed a stone aside. “Don’t worry. It takes more than a cave-in to do me in. This little challenge doesn’t even break my top five. Now get the hell outside.”

  With one last look, she stumbled around the bend toward the mine opening.

  “Go,” Daniel said to Trouble. “Guard her.”

  A soft whine escaped the dog, but he followed her.

  Daniel widened the hole, his adrenaline ratcheting higher with every second. The stubborn woman didn’t weigh more than a hundred twenty pounds, and she’d nearly brought the unstable wall down on them. At over two hundred, he might get one shot to reach the other side, but these stones were like the last blocks in Jenga. Very precarious...and dangerous.

  If he was going to die, he wanted it to be out in the open, under the sky, not like a rat trapped in a hole. At least the fight to stay alive was beating back the past—just barely.

  He tried to squeeze through, but his hulking six-foot-four frame scraped the edges of the passageway. Damn football shoulders.

  Two more rocks should do it.

  He moved one, and a spray of dirt sifted over him.

  One more to go.

  Daniel took a deep breath then tugged out the rock and heard the cracking start.

  He shoved through the hole, ignoring the rocks hitting his body. He dragged his bad leg through just as the roar grew louder.

  Then the whole damn mountain started coming down on top of him.