Fury

by Bill Bright

  “Time constraints?” Epps asked.

  “No.” Asa put his watch back in its pocket.

  “Tell you what…how about if we go to the hole? You shout into it a couple of times—I’ll hold your legs to keep you from falling in—and see if we can coax him out. If that doesn’t work, we can search the area before it gets dark.”

  Asa was shaking his head halfway through the offer. “Very kind of you, but I can’t impose on you any more than I already have. You’ve done enough. I’m sure you have somewhere to be tonight, it being Christmas Eve.”

  “Is it?” Epps said. “Makes no difference to me. Just another night as far as I’m concerned.”

  Asa couldn’t help wondering what would bring an intelligent man to have so little regard for Christmas.

  “Besides, if there’s one thing the frontier has taught me,” Epps continued, “it’s that men have to look out for each other if they’re going to survive. And if that weren’t a good enough reason, I like the fact that you came after the boy. It’s more than my father did for me.”

  Asa didn’t argue with him. He was glad to have the company. And maybe Daniel would listen to a younger man. He could learn a thing or two from Robely Epps.

  “I’m in your debt,” Asa said.

  “There it is, then.”

  Robely Epps followed Asa to the cave entrance. But before Asa had time to yell into the cave, the music stopped.

  Daniel lowered the recorder. The chill in the cave had succeeded in penetrating both clothing and flesh. He got up, stomped his feet to get his circulation going, and looked around, feeling small in the immensity of it all. He’d descended farther into the cave than he’d thought. Tucking the recorder into his waistband, he turned his attention to finding a way out.

  The logical way out was the way he came in. After all, he had heard Epps jump back across the chasm and scramble out, proving it could be done. But it was a safe assumption that the killer was guarding the hole, waiting for Daniel to poke his head out, and then…

  Daniel didn’t want to think about what would happen then.

  How long would Epps wait before giving up?

  One day?

  Two?

  Daniel had to find another way out.

  He held the candle high, throwing the light as far distant as possible, and proceeded deeper into the cave. His footsteps echoed as he trespassed through the rock cathedral.

  The walls were wet and shiny and slick, the candle lighting but a few feet at a time. He continued descending, sometimes on natural rock steps, sometimes down a slope where he tested every step.

  A jagged line came into the field of light, separating rock from black nothingness. He inched toward it. As he did, a chasm yawned in front of him.

  Staying well back from the edge, Daniel paralleled the chasm, looking for a way across. It stretched from one side of the cavern to the other, from sheer wall to sheer wall. There was no passageway across it.

  Jumping was out of the question. At its narrowest, the chasm was easily twenty feet wide and twelve to fifteen feet deep. His candle reflected off a liquid bottom, a shallow stream. There was no way down.

  Retracing his steps along the edge, Daniel inspected it again, thinking perhaps he’d missed something. He hadn’t. His hope of finding an alternative way out was growing dim. Still, he wasn’t ready to give up.

  Daniel held the candle close to the wall, examining its surface with his palm. About a foot above his head, he discovered a thin ledge, four, maybe five inches deep. It extended across the chasm, but did it reach the other side? His candle light didn’t stretch far enough for him to see.

  He tested the ledge with his fingers. The rock was solid, not flaky. Tracing it away from the chasm, he found an abutment of boulders that served as steps.

  Adjusting his haversack and his grip on the candle, Daniel climbed up to the ledge and scooted out onto it, his feet spread wide, his chest and cheek hugging the wet rock wall. With the candle in his lead hand, he inched his way to the edge of the chasm.

  This is crazy, he thought. Even if he made it to the other side, would that be a way out of the cave?

  But the known way out was more frightening than the unknown. So, taking a deep breath, Daniel continued inching his way forward.

  The cavern floor fell away. Far below him, the stream was a wide black ribbon.

  Daniel told himself not to look down. To concentrate on each step.

  Halfway across the chasm, the ledge began to narrow. Less than four inches. Now three inches. And narrowing.

  He stopped. It was still too far to jump.

  Should he go back?

  The image of Epps sharpening his knife came to mind.

  Daniel clung to the side of the cliff. He pressed so hard against it, he could feel his heart bouncing off rock. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold stone, attempting to calm himself.

  A deep breath. Then another. And another.

  Below him, the stream gurgled over loose rocks.

  Opening his eyes, he caught sight of the ledge, his goal. Could he work himself along the ledge far enough to jump?

  He had to try. He took a step…and his foot gave way.

  Fear struck like lightning.

  The fingers of his left hand clutched a projection. But, in doing so, he lost the candle. It tumbled downward and, after the smallest of splashes, went out.

  The cavern was plunged into total darkness.

  Camilla couldn’t believe she was standing in the home of the wealthy Cyrus Gregg, where everything was light and bright and gay.

  Earlier she’d told herself she wouldn’t come without Asa.

  Then she told herself she’d put on her dress and fix her hair in case Asa showed up at the last minute, because, as everyone knows, it always takes men less time to get ready than it does women.

  A short while later she had found herself sitting in the front room, all dressed up.

  When Cyrus Gregg’s carriage had come for her, she decided to go, even though Asa wasn’t there. She thanked the driver as he treated her like a lady and assisted her into the coach.

  Now that Camilla was at Cyrus’s home, she was glad she’d come. While she’d known Cyrus most of her life, she’d never known him to be so gallant and entertaining, the ultimate host.

  She met senators and congressmen, and all of Cumberland’s well-to-do. She danced with a French diplomat, sang Christmas songs, laughed, and smiled until her face hurt.

  Camilla couldn’t remember when she’d had such a delightful time.

  Chapter 20

  Once the sun went down, the temperature plummeted. Asa leaned close to the fire as Epps piled more wood onto it, sending embers spiraling skyward.

  Asa followed the twirling path of the red sparks, watching them mingle with the stars, the same stars the shepherds of Bethlehem camped under so long ago when the sky exploded with angel song. Unlike that ancient night, it was silent. No music had come from the cave for hours.

  “Warm enough?” Epps asked.

  “Those last few branches helped,” Asa replied.

  While Asa started the fire with surrounding brush, Epps had taken the horse and carriage to get some more substantial fuel from a wooded area he said he’d passed earlier that day.

  It was the end of a frustrating day. They’d spent the last of the afternoon first shouting into the cave without results, then scouting the surrounding area for another entrance to the cave. That, too, proved to be unsuccessful.

  Epps stoked the fire, goading the embers to release their heat. Asa’s thoughts turned to Camilla. He hated the fact that she was spending Christmas Eve alone. He could see her bundled up, buried beneath a comforter in the front room with a cup of tea and her Bible next to her on the stand. Every Christmas Eve of their marriage, they’d read the account of the nativity from the apostle Luke’s gospel. Tonight Camilla would read it alone. The thought angered him.

  “If we left now, you could be home before mi
dnight,” Epps said.

  Mired in his thoughts, Asa looked at Epps blankly. “Huh? Oh…that obvious, is it?”

  “I’d be willing to travel with you—you know, two men together…less of a target for brigands. Or, if you prefer, you could go home and I’ll wait here for the boy to surface. I could escort him home. Sort of a Christmas gift.”

  It was an enticing offer.

  Asa smiled. The more time he spent with Robely Epps, the more he liked the man. “I hope Daniel gets to meet you. He could learn a lot from you.”

  Epps shrugged. “Don’t know about that, but after what we’ve been through, I’m kind of anxious to meet the boy myself. And I’m serious about my offer.”

  “Much appreciated,” Asa said, pulling his coat tighter around him. “But I think I’ll stay the night and see what the morning brings.”

  Daniel couldn’t see a thing. He could hear his breathing—almost as fast as a dog’s pant—bouncing off the face of the cliff in front of him. He could feel the cold stone penetrating his coat and pants. He could feel the rock cutting into his fingertips, and the thin ledge upon which he stood through his shoes. But he couldn’t see. The instant the candle had hit the stream below, everything had gone black.

  His choices were two: go forward, go back. Forward was the shortest route, but the ledge upon which he was standing diminished to the point of disappearing that way. How much farther could he go without slipping off? The way back was the safer route. It was farther, but the ledge remained wide and secure the entire distance.

  A thought came to him. He could go back, light a new candle, and try again.

  No.He dismissed that idea. Once he stepped off this ledge, he knew he would never step onto it again. Not in this lifetime. If he were going to cross, he’d have to do it now.

  His fingers cramped. He needed to make a decision.

  Forward.It had to be forward.

  All right, forward. Now, can I do it? Can I do it blind?

  Staring ahead into the darkness did him no good, so he closed his eyes. It was just as black, but it felt more natural. Eyes open and seeing nothing added to his anxiety.

  He tried to remember every detail of his position before he dropped the candle. The distance to the other side. How far the ledge went before it got too thin to stand on. He imagined himself making his way to where the ledge gave way, getting a good toehold, then jumping the rest of the way.

  That was the plan.

  A blind leap into the dark.

  With nothing else to do but do it, Daniel eased his way forward, feeling the ledge with his toe. He tested it first, then transferred his weight while clutching the cliff with his fingers. He took another step. On the third step, his foot gave way. There wasn’t enough ledge left to hold his weight. He’d gone as far as he could go. The only thing left to do now was jump.

  He opened his eyes, hoping to glimpse something that would tell him how far he had to jump. He saw nothing. Not a line. Not a shadow. Not a shape. He would have to guess.

  Overshooting the mark meant he would land farther away from the edge. The danger was falling short. So the plan was simple. Jump as far as possible.

  He rose up on the balls of his feet, getting the best foothold he could manage. Crouching to spring proved to be a problem when he was pressed this flat against the cave wall. His knees knocked against solid rock. Doubt niggled, telling him he wouldn’t make it. It was too far. Perhaps if the ledge extended a foot or two farther, he could make it.

  Daniel squinted in an attempt to silence his thoughts. They sounded too much like his uncle’s.

  He told himself he’d jump at the count of three.

  One.He double-checked his foothold.

  Two.His knees bent, hitting rock.

  Three.

  Daniel flung himself into the black void, stretching his arms forward, as though by doing so he could will himself to the other side. But the instant he released from the cave wall, he could feel his momentum failing. He began to fall.

  In all his life he’d experienced no more helpless feeling than this. He had no control. Flailing arms did nothing. Kicking legs had no effect. He was falling, and there was nothing he could do to stop.

  He prepared his feet for landing, though he could see no land. Jumping out of the tree or the bedroom window was different. Then he could see the ground rushing up. He could anticipate the landing. But now his feet stretched and found nothing.

  At that instant, his chest slammed into the edge of the chasm, knocking the breath from his body. He hadn’t jumped far enough!

  His hands and arms slapped the cave floor. His chin hit rock. He began sliding backward into the chasm.

  His fingers clawed at rock and found no hold. His feet plowed into the side of the chasm and dug for a foothold that wasn’t there.

  And then there was nothing to cling to.

  Daniel slipped over the edge and tumbled into the void like his candle. And, like his candle, he hit the water with a splash and the light of his conscious mind went out.

  “I had a lovely time tonight, Cyrus!” Camilla cooed.

  Still glowing from the evening, she stood with her back against the front door of her house. Behind her all the rooms were dark—evidence that Asa wasn’t home yet.

  “You were a delight. Everyone loved you,” Cyrus said.

  Camilla lowered her gaze. Her face felt warm. It had been years since she had blushed at a man’s compliment. She’d forgotten how good it felt.

  “Everything was bright and festive,” she said. “And you were the perfect host.”

  Cyrus started to object.

  She stopped him with an upraised hand. “Don’t. You were masterful,” she insisted. “It’s obvious you thrive on these events. I’ve never had the privilege of seeing you in this role.”

  “A grievous error on my part, madam. One that I’m glad has been corrected tonight.”

  “It was a memorable night. The food. The conversation. Everything. I wish Asa were here to enjoy it too. He was looking forward to it so much.”

  Cyrus took a small step back. “Should we be concerned that he isn’t home?” he asked in a more somber, businesslike tone.

  Camilla looked over her shoulder at the dark house. “I’m not concerned for Asa’s safety, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s no stranger to travel. As for Daniel, Asa will do whatever is necessary to find him and bring him back. Did you know that he once tracked Daniel’s father all the way from New Haven to Kentucky?”

  Cyrus half grinned. “I didn’t know that. Like father, like son?”

  “Daniel’s father is Reverend Eli Cooper.”

  “The great revival preacher?”

  Camilla nodded.

  “I’m impressed. I had no idea. All I knew was that his father and mother went down in the Atlantic. So that was Eli Cooper…and, of course, his mother was Asa’s sister.”

  “Maggy,” Camilla said. “Asa and Eli were rivals in college. Hearing about some of their antics, it’s a wonder they didn’t kill each other. Then they became best friends.”

  “From rivals to best friends to in-laws. Sounds like quite a story.”

  “You’ll have to ask Asa to tell it to you sometime.”

  “Well…” Cyrus shuffled his feet on the porch. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here by yourself? I could send Martha—you met her, didn’t you? My house servant?—to stay with you until Asa returns. Or…you could use my guesthouse.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, Cyrus, but I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve spent a night alone in the house.”

  Cyrus did another little shuffle with his feet. “If you change your mind…”

  The shuffle brought him closer to Camilla. He leaned toward her and, in a half-whisper, said, “I know you won’t believe me when I tell you this, but you were the most beautiful woman at the party tonight.”

  For the second time Camilla felt her color rise. Then, to her dismay, Cyrus continued leaning toward her. His eyes
closed. His lips pursed.

  She backed away, the closed door blocking her retreat. His face was inches from hers now, his lips seeking a target. An involuntary moan escaped her lips as she fumbled for the door latch.

  Should she stop his face with her hand? Turn her head so he hit only cheek? Slap him? Scream? Faint? Duck and let him kiss the door?

  At the last second she found the latch, pushed the door open, and stumbled inside.

  “There!” she said airily. “Our front door latch always sticks in the cold weather.”

  She turned to him as though she hadn’t noticed he’d tried to kiss her.

  For a moment Cyrus appeared startled, but he recovered. “Will you come to the house for dinner tomorrow after the Christmas service? I’d love to have you as my guest…and Asa and Daniel, if they should come home.”

  “Would it be rude of me to request that I give you my answer tomorrow at church?” Camilla asked.

  “My dear lady, rudeness is not part of your nature. Of course you may. I’ll prepare for your company, hoping for the best.” He stepped into the doorway.

  “Thank you. You’ve always been a dear friend. And thank you again for tonight. It was a memorable party. Good night.”

  Camilla began to close the door with a polite but firm touch, forcing Cyrus to step back. He bid her a final good night as she latched the door.

  She listened for the clatter of his carriage leaving before crossing the room in the dark and lighting a lamp. Up until the last few moments it had been a fairytale evening. She removed her dress gloves, and as she did, her gaze fell upon her Bible.

  It lay open to Luke chapter 2, the nativity account. She’d found the passage in anticipation of Asa coming home.

  Her comment to Cyrus had been true. This wasn’t the first time she’d spent the night alone.

  “But it’s the first Christmas Eve I’ve spent alone,” she said to the empty house.

  Chapter 21

  After unhitching the carriage and getting his horse settled for the night, Asa returned to the fire, his fingers frozen. The crackle and odor of roasting rabbit greeted him.