They sat in lawn chairs in the Macal River for nearly an hour, talking and enjoying the time together au naturel. At one point they heard the sound of people talking and they looked at each other, wondering where it was coming from. In a moment a canoe came around the bend, manned by a twenty-something couple. It was absolutely too late for modesty, so Nicole and Brian just sat in their chairs and waved as the canoe went by.
“Looks like fun,” the guy yelled.
“Oh yeah,” Brian called back. “You should try it.”
“Thank God there weren’t a bunch of little kids in that canoe,” Nicole laughed as the boat drifted away. “We might have brought new meaning to sex education in Belize. Speaking of that, do you think Sam will be back on time or will he be early? We’ve just finished one exhibition – I don’t really want to give Sam a show!”
“He knows exactly what I had planned for this afternoon. He’ll be on time just like he said.”
“OK then. We have less than a half hour left.” Nicole got up, turned and knelt in front of Brian’s lawn chair. In almost no time his body convulsed as he finished what she had started. “Wow, that was a fast one. You must be into this outdoor stuff!”
“Well yes, I’d say so. When I’m sitting in the jungle in a river stark naked with a nude goddess in front of me doing something like that, I think any red-blooded man would get things done pretty fast.”
“Glad I could be of help.” She smiled and sat back in her chair for ten minutes. They finally got up, took the chairs to shore and were drying off as they heard the truck approaching. Nicole quickly pulled on her shorts, fastening her sports bra just as Sam pulled up. She glanced at Brian – he had gotten his shorts up and was zipping them.
Nicole pulled her tank top on as Brian donned his shirt. “Looks like you had a great afternoon for sunbathing,” Sam said. “Did you see any canoe traffic?”
Nicole laughed. “Yes, actually we did. And they got a great show because they came around the bend faster than we could react.”
“Oh well. Hopefully you weren’t in too compromising a situation!”
Brian replied, “It was fine. We had a blast. Thanks for suggesting this.”
They drove back to the inn, walked to the town square for a quiet dinner on the street and turned in early, hoping the Saturday night revelry in town wouldn’t keep them from sleeping. They had a big day ahead of them tomorrow – after climbing a ruin and sitting in a river all afternoon, they fell asleep quickly and never woke until Brian’s iPhone alarm went off at six am.
Around seven the guide Alfredo met Sam, Nicole and Brian in the hotel lobby, ushered them out to his ATV and they began the two-hour ride to the cave site. The first twenty minutes of the trip was on a paved road. When they reached the tiny village of San Antonio, Alfredo turned off the main road onto a fairly well defined dirt pathway that snaked through a couple of farms before entering a forest.
A hundred feet in the woods the pathway narrowed dramatically. “Watch your arms,” Alfredo said as the ATV brushed saplings on both sides of the road. They rounded a corner and Alfredo cursed quietly as he saw a large tree lying across the road in front of them. “OK, end of the line, amigos. We walk from here.”
“How far are we from the cave?” Sam asked.
“Two miles, more or less. If this tree hadn’t been here we could have gotten about a half-mile closer, but that would have been it anyway. So we haven’t lost much.”
Each person was assigned a backpack. One contained their lunch, another had rapelling gear and there was other equipment for their descent into the cave. Alfredo had extra ropes and equipment that he decided to leave in the ATV. He told them, “This is just emergency gear. No need to carry the extra weight.”
They loaded up and began the hike, stopping occasionally as the guide or Sam pointed out flora and fauna, interesting tidbits of information or to note the tracks of various animals that inhabited the jungle.
“Watch out!” Alfredo suddenly stopped Nicole as she headed down the trail. “Look at the leaf-cutters.” He pointed to a long line of ants marching single-file across the pathway, each carrying a leaf twice its size. “If you interrupt them they can inflict a painful bite.” They stopped to look at a huge bulge on one of the trees. “Termite nest,” Sam said. “They’re very tasty.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Nicole laughed.
Sam tore a piece of the nest away and reached inside, pulling out several termites that he picked out of the nesting material and stuck in his mouth. “This is one of the most-eaten insects on earth,” he said, swallowing. “They’re full of protein and taste like nuts.”
“I hope I don’t ever get that hungry,” she commented, astonished at what she’d seen Sam do.
Nearly two hours later they arrived at a small opening. Alfredo stopped and took off his pack.
“We’ve arrived. Let’s put our packs down here and rest for a minute, then we’ll begin our descent.” He handed each person a headlamp. “Please put these on. You’ll need them very soon after we start down.”
After drinking a little water the foursome entered the cave, Alfredo in front and Brian bringing up the rear.
Chapter Four
Four hours later
Brian was resourceful. Sitting at the bottom of the cave in the dark, he thought of ways he could save himself. He had no idea where Nicole, Sam and the guide were, but he knew something must have happened to keep Alfredo from returning on time to rescue him. He was concerned for himself but even more for Nicole and his good friend Sam, who both were only along for the ride. It was Brian who had really wanted to see this cave and now maybe they all were in trouble, trapped down here somewhere. Brian thought about Alfredo’s admonition to stay put. If he left this room it would be easy to get lost. Maybe forever. Finally he decided if he was going to get out he’d better think of a way himself. Alfredo wasn’t coming back.
He figured the toughest part of the trip up would be climbing a ten-foot slick rock they had slid down shortly after entering the cave. Alfredo had installed a rope there already but climbing with a bum shoulder would be a challenge. Brian decided he had no choice but to go. The risk of remaining here with no rescue was worse than trying to get out.
He turned on his iPhone and the light from the screen gave him a little visibility. As fast as he could he unpacked the backpack completely to see what resources he had available. There was a small pickaxe, a five-foot length of rope and two carabiners stuck in a side pocket. Most importantly Brian found a second headlamp and two extra batteries in the bottom. Apparently Alfredo had ensured each pack contained minimal necessities for survival or climbing. He’s a good guide, Brian thought. Thank goodness he included this stuff. It may just help me get out.
Turning on the failing headlamp, Brian shut off his phone and put it in his pocket. He coiled the rope and hooked it to his belt, using one of the carabiners. He stuck the second headlamp and the batteries in his pants pocket, had a sandwich and a bottle of water, then he prepared to ascend.
I can always come back down if I have to, and I won’t starve for days. Knowing he couldn’t manage the backpack with his damaged shoulder, he stuck a bottle of water in his pocket and left the pack with the rest of the food and water on the cave floor. He stood at the base of the rock he had fallen down earlier.
Carefully he raised his right arm as high as he could to find out what range of motion he had. He winced and cried out loud as he forced it to shoulder height. He discovered when his arm was raised he couldn’t tighten the fingers on his right hand enough to grip. He probed his right shoulder with his other hand, poking and prodding to see if something was broken or out of place. Hopefully it was just a torn muscle. Optimistically deciding it was the latter, he had to endure whatever pain there was, in order to climb up. Instead of thinking of the seven hundred foot ascent he concentrated on just one rock – the next one. The first ascent, the one directly in front of him, would be one of the hardest. He’d have to to cli
mb up on small stones, face the rock down which he had fallen and raise his arm above his head. If he could do that, he’d face his next challenge. He had to grip the top of the rock and pull himself up.
Brian wasn’t sure if he could lift himself one-handed. If he couldn’t, he’d have to use his injured right arm and work through the pain. He hoped he wouldn’t make things worse and end up losing the use of his arm completely.
What choice do I have? If I don’t try to use both hands I may end up dead down here at the bottom of this cave. So let’s get started.
He climbed up and raised his left hand to the top of the slick rock. He tried several times to lift himself using only that arm. Since he was right-handed and weighed 170 pounds, he got nowhere. He gritted his teeth, raised his right arm to shoulder height, seized it with his good arm and pushed it even higher. He screamed in pain but he forced the arm higher and higher. Suddenly something happened. He heard a click and the pain lessened immediately. He felt his shoulder and decided there must have been a separation that he’d just repaired. The right shoulder area was tender but nothing like it had been a few seconds before. He flexed his right hand and found that although it was still painful, he could at least form a fist.
Brian raised both hands, took hold of the top of the rock and raised himself up. His right arm wasn’t functioning well but with effort he was able to scale the rock. Once in the cavern above it he could walk up. Occasionally he used his sore arm for balance or to help steady himself as he walked back up the pathway he had previously come down.
Soon his headlamp died. He stuck it in his pocket and put the other one on his head. It had taken less than an hour for his group to descend seven hundred feet. Brian knew it would have taken longer to ascend even without injury, just because it was more strenuous work to go up rather than down. After nearly an hour he thought about where he was and calculated that maybe he was about one third of the way to the top. He turned off the headlamp and looked up. He could see no outside light whatsoever; everything was absolutely black. There were many more twists and turns ahead, Brian knew, and no light filtered down this far.
He continued up another fifty feet or so and came to a large room he remembered from the descent. It contained several Mayan pots and Alfredo had stopped to comment on them. Brian’s heart fell at what he saw ahead. Directly in front of him were two broad openings. He had no idea which one they had come down. If he chose incorrectly he had no idea where the other passageway would take him.
Brian looked closely at both openings for footprints, slide marks or any other indication that his group had come one way rather than the other. Both passages were rocky and slick with seeping moisture. Both headed upwards with a steep incline and there was no clue which was the right one.
Here’s where Alfredo would say, I told you so. If his friends and the guide were somehow trapped too then he’d become the rescuer himself once he reached the surface. But if he was lost in a labyrinth hundreds of feet below the surface of the jungle it could mean death for the entire group.
There was always a little pad of paper and a pencil in Brian’s shirt pocket, an old habit of his. He made his choice and wrote a note saying, “Brian Sadler took the left passage.” He left it under a small rock on the floor of the cavern. If the guide returned and Brian was lost at least he’d know which tunnel Brian had taken.
As he entered the narrow passage, he sketched a crude map to help find his way back if it was a dead end. He had noted the time when he started up this aperture. After an hour he was still climbing, sometimes with little effort, sometimes not. Parts of the passage were narrow, so tight his arms rubbed on the sides as he inched his way up.
Soon the passage began to constrict even more tightly. It felt like he was in a chimney – he was certain he hadn’t come down this way but decided he would keep moving up until he couldn’t go further. He could always go back down. At least he hoped he could.
The passageway got narrower and narrower as he climbed. Now he couldn’t raise his hands above his head because there was no room to move them. He was slithering like a snake, arms at his sides, twisting his way up as he found footholds on the rocky sides. Suddenly a wave of nausea overtook him. What if he couldn’t go on? What if this passage came to a dead end? He’d be done when he couldn’t slither any more or when a rock marked the tiny chimney’s end. There would be no further progress. He looked up. There was nothing but darkness above him, lit for a couple of feet by his tiny headlamp. His mind raced – what if he couldn’t get back down? What if he got stuck? What if the headlamp died now? If it did Brian had no way to move his hands to the batteries or the lamp to fix it. He would be trapped in absolute darkness. Suddenly he began to hyperventilate, using up precious oxygen and finding himself breathing his own stale air in the tiny passage only inches wider than his own body. He forced himself to calm down. He took slow breaths and thought about Nicole and the others. I have to find them. I have to be strong. I may be the one who saves us all. Again he prayed and again he slithered upwards.
After a couple of minutes that seemed like hours the narrow passageway began to widen. Finally he popped into a round room about ten feet in diameter and with a high ceiling. This room had a sand floor and there were dozens of shoe and boot prints. Brian breathed a sigh of relief. He clearly remembered how difficult it had been for all of them to stand here together with their packs, because of the tight space. Five feet in front of him were two dark openings in the wall. He felt a momentary jolt of fear – what if one was another claustrophobic flue like he’d just traversed? He didn’t know if he could do it.
Just then something encouraging happened. A bat flew by his head and went into one of the openings. Brian turned off his headlamp and saw a faint glow of light far up the hole where the creature had flown. This was the way out!
Brian sat down and drank his bottle of water. He was excited that he was getting close to the surface but he’d been climbing for well over two hours and the last half hour inching his way up a narrow chimney had taken a toll on both his mind and his body. His muscles ached and his throbbing shoulder was hot to the touch.
He had no idea where Nicole, Sam and Alfredo were but he he had to assume they hadn’t made it back to the surface. If they had Alfredo would already have retrieved ropes and rappelling gear and come down for him. Standing at the opening he yelled each name loudly, then listened for a response. Nothing.
Putting the empty water bottle in his backpack, Brian walked over to the hole that led upward. He moved with a renewed enthusiasm both from having had water and from being pumped up about getting out.
It’s not that far now. You’ve come this far – you can do it.
Facing this last part of the climb was the scariest of all. It wouldn’t be narrow and confined but there was the steep rock ahead of him. He had to navigate the rope with an inflamed shoulder.
If I can’t make it, I’m stuck ten feet from freedom. I could yell but if no one’s there I’m no less trapped than if I were still at the bottom of the cave. My food and water are seven hundred feet below me. I could die of starvation ten feet from the surface.
He forced those thoughts out, concentrating instead on each step that took him closer.
Finally Brian reached the sheer rock that rose over ten feet in front of him, his last obstacle. Shafts of daylight glimmered far above. He shouted again but got no response. He gazed at the rock, trying to decide how to scale it. He stretched his right arm upwards to see how mobile he was. It still hurt like hell but if he pushed himself he could use it to climb. Better a sore arm than a dead man, he figured.
There were outcroppings along the left wall next to where the rope hung down. Brian took out the pickaxe and hacked at one that was about two feet off the ground. He made an indentation in the wall that would be large enough for him to stand on. Putting both hands against the rock face he raised his left leg and put his foot on the rock. He grasped the rope, took his pick, raised it high above him and hac
ked until he had lodged it into a small hole. He put his weight on the pick, praying it wouldn’t come loose, and lifted himself until he could stand on the small outcropping he’d cut.
The pick came loose as Brian lifted himself on it and he let go of the rope. He fell backwards, landing on his back on the ground. He got up, flexed arms and legs and except for his arm problem everything was working.
Unable couldn’t think of a better plan, he tried the same one again. Holding the rope he raised himself high enough to dig a small hole with the pick and gave it a major last thrust that lodged the axe into the wall. He took hold of the handle and again raised himself onto the small ledge. This time the axe held and he was only four feet below the top of the rock if he stretched his arms out. But what could he do next? He couldn’t remove the pickaxe to make another handhold because the axe itself was the only thing to hold onto. He couldn’t scale the rope because he only had one arm that worked. He was six feet off the ground, four feet from freedom, but it might as well have been a mile. Once again he was stymied.
He looked at the rocky outcropping where he was perched, his good left hand holding the axe handle and his right lightly gripping the rope. Not far above the handle a rock protruded three inches from the wall, enough for Brian to grab hold of. If he held that rock he could use his other hand to remove the pickaxe and make another step higher than the one he stood on now. He could stair-step his way to the top. There was another outcropping above the first one – another place to create another step. This might work.
That was the good news. The bad news was that Brian would have to use his good left arm to hold on to the rock while he fully extended his damaged right arm and shoulder, removed the axe and then hammered it higher into the wall.
He had to try. He extended his left arm and took hold of the rock face next to the sheer cliff. It was firm and gave him a good handhold. This next move was the hardest. He had to steady himself by holding onto a rock, and use his other hand to remove the axe. That meant letting go of the rope. If he did, it would swing away from him where he could no longer reach it. So if this plan didn’t work Brian would have to somehow get back down eight feet without the aid of the rope and without falling. There was no other way. He let it go.
Brian Sadler Archaeological Mysteries BoxSet Page 34
