Fatal 5

by Karin Kaufman

  For a moment, no one said anything. Then Eve rose to her feet, her back rigid. “How about a walk, Crystal?” She held out her hand. The child joined her, and they strolled toward the cove.

  Jake huffed. Was she using Crystal to get at him?

  “I’m sorry, Jake.” Betty put her hand over his. “I’d hoped for a better ending to your hard day.”

  “Part of it was good. I discovered a way around that ocean cliff.”

  “You mean Crystal’s suicidal staircase?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. The path is a long ways around, but it beats that drop to the ocean.”

  “Good, because I swore I’d never risk that climb again.”

  Truth was, the path was a luxury. The cave tunnel, though, was a keyhole, and he and Eve were the key to unlock it. The log booby trap all but screamed that something was hidden there to be discovered.

  Chapter 26

  Silence hung like a dark shadow over the camp when Jake returned with the morning fruit. He sat and chewed a banana and waited. His gut told him the women had discussed something. Either the outcome wasn’t unanimous, or they were nervous about telling him. Didn’t matter what they’d decided, he was going to explore that tunnel.

  At his third banana, Eve spoke. “You can use my life vest for torches, but I’m not coming with you.” She dropped the vest at his feet. “I’m going to the pool. I’ll bring fruit back with me.”

  Acid erupted like a hand grenade in his stomach. “I’d rather you back me up in the tunnel than go to the volcano with me. No telling what’s inside—”

  “I want to get off this island, Jake, not explore its nooks and crannies.”

  “I’m telling you, the volcano top isn’t the ticket off.”

  “And the nooks and crannies are? If I’m going to waste my time, I’d rather do it at the pool.” She plucked a banana from the pile and sauntered to the stream. The steady splash of her feet marked her progress toward the jungle.

  “That’s a low blow.” To his surprise, neither Betty nor Crystal responded. Did they agree with Eve? He glanced at them, but they looked away. “I’m going to need someone’s help.”

  “I’m sorry, Jake, but I’m not crawling in there with you, and neither is Crystal.”

  He picked up Eve’s life vest and huffed. “I don’t need someone to go in with me. I need one of you to stay at the entry. If for some reason I can’t find my way out, your voice will guide me back.”

  At their silence, he slashed the vest into four pieces and stalked off to retrieve three sticks and several handfuls of dry grass and bark.

  Betty frowned as he rejoined them. “Why isn’t the volcano top our ticket off?”

  “Because the Lone Soldier died here. There is no ticket.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You’re saying we’re stuck here?”

  “I’m saying the island has secrets. Until we know them, we don’t know how to get off.”

  He twisted the grass, fiber, and bark into three tight wads, wrapped the vest pieces around them, and attached them to the three sticks. All the while, Betty said nothing. Was she really going to let him go alone? He stood, swallowing back his anger. “I’ll need the lens to set a torch on fire.” Crystal handed it to him and he pocketed it.

  Betty cleared her throat. “Crystal, will you go?”

  Crystal’s chin quivered. “I don’t like the trench.”

  Or the boogeyman in it? “I could use your help to make one more torch while I’m inside. Can you do that for me?”

  She hesitated only a moment. “Okay.”

  He didn’t give her time to change her mind. They gathered the necessary materials and took the shortcut over the rocky embankment straight into the trench. He tore away the dried grass covering the tunnel’s opening—what he hoped was a tunnel, anyway.

  The hole was smaller than he expected. His mouth went dry. Would he be crawling into a booby trap? An animal’s lair? In the minefield, he’d at least known what its secret was.

  “Let’s see if this material will light.” If not, he’d have to start over with pieces of the canvas sail. He focused the lens onto the fabric until a spot blackened and opened a hole to the combustible material inside. A nasty stink of burnt rubber pervaded the air.

  He took his Bible from his pocket. “When you’re done making the torch, read this real loud into the tunnel and don’t stop until I return. Real loud, so I can hear you.”

  How long would the torch last? He tucked the two unlit ones into his belt, poked the lighted one ahead of him into the tunnel, and squeezed through on his belly. The stench of the torch filled the enclosed space, burning his nostrils and throat. Then, suddenly, the odor dissipated.

  His heart beat faster. The dim light of the torch revealed what had to be a man-made tunnel high enough for him to walk at a stoop. The floor was level, and the walls midway down were smooth, as if human hands had rubbed them, feeling their way through the passageway.

  He counted his steps. At twenty, he bumped head on into a wall and smashed his torch. The smoldering bundle sagged precariously atop the stick. Holding his breath, he tugged the bottom of the fabric to pull the bundle back into place. The fire dimmed, then settled into a steady burn. As a precaution, he lit the second torch against its heat.

  The passageway turned sharply to the right, its ceiling now above his reach. He straightened and raised the torch. The stale odor of decayed flesh assaulted his nostrils. He gagged, then inhaled sharply at what the torch revealed.

  Twenty Japanese soldiers encircled him in a chamber of niches cut into the walls. Empty eye sockets gaped above grisly grins bared in death. Their uniforms, rotted by flesh, had collapsed onto their skeletons. Battle gear and a few personal possessions lay tucked against the side of each soldier.

  The first torch sputtered out, and he discarded it. Clenching his teeth against the shivers spiking down his backbone, he examined the skeletal remains. Each man had a rifle, but a quick check revealed none had ammunition.

  He huffed with satisfaction when he identified the remains of the officer in command. His katana sword, standard issue for Japanese officers, lay askew at his side. Jake picked it up and pulled it out of its scabbard. The blade was still sharp. He slid it back in, slipped the scabbard into his belt, and selected a couple of entrenching tools and two bayonets from other corpses.

  What was that? The back of his neck tingled. Slowly, stomach tight, he turned around. The scant light of the torch fell on a dark mass occupying a ledge he had thought empty. The mass moved, bulging upward. A narrow head rose, identified by eyes glinting in the torchlight.

  The air bolted from Jake’s lungs.

  Snake!

  Bayonets and shovels clattered to the floor. He whipped the katana sword out of its scabbard. With all his might he swung the blade straight down on the beast. Loosened by the jolt, the smoldering tip of the torch dropped onto his hand. He yelped and flung the torch to the floor. The flame winked, then went out.

  Total darkness enveloped him.

  He scrambled backwards until he was tight against the cave wall. Recognition of the serpent sucked the marrow from his bones: a giant python, more than capable of squeezing the life out of him. He must not, must not let those coils wrap around his body.

  The monster’s thrashing ricocheted against the cave walls. He couldn’t tell which direction the noise came from. He lashed out again with the sword. The blade encountered only air. He kept slashing anyway.

  The noise subsided. A faint scraping sound rose from the floor, then stopped. His own heavy breathing pulsated against his ears. He held his breath to get total silence.

  Nothing.

  Was the snake positioning itself outside its prey’s reach, getting ready to strike? Jake anticipated his head would be the target. He lunged forward again, flaying the sword. It hit nothing but air, the floor, the wall of the cave.

  He backed against the wall and listened. Nothing. Only the sound of his labored breathing and the staccato of his heart
beat.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a speck of red on the floor. He caught his breath. A cocooned ember was glowing inside the disabled torch head. He snatched the third torch out of his belt and used the sword to scoop the ember and the unlit torch together.

  Hair prickled on the back of his neck. He was taking a chance, making himself open to attack if the snake was waiting to strike. He gripped the hilt of the sword so it couldn’t be knocked out of his hand. The weapon was his only chance for survival.

  Sweat drenched his shirt. His heart thudded at the thought of the monster’s coils wrapping around him. The snake would knock him off his feet . . . render him helpless . . . pin him down. Who was he kidding? The katana sword would be useless.

  A tiny flame shot out as the third torch caught fire. Jake jerked it up and swept it in an arc. No snake. No massive pile positioned outside the reach of the sword. He moved the torch in a slower semicircle to make sure. When he was confident of his safety, he made a more thorough search of the cave.

  A long section of the snake lay on the ground where it had been severed from the body. A bloody trail identified where the injured reptile had exited into a second passageway that led away from the one Jake had entered. Probably the escape tunnel he had expected to find instead of a burial chamber.

  The cave dust revealed the trail of a second giant snake in addition to the one he’d injured. No wonder there had been such a huge pile. Considering their sizes, they could have taken on about anything. Why hadn’t they attacked while he examined the corpses? Could the acrid smell of the torch have held them back?

  His torch sputtered. No way he wanted to be in that darkness again. He stuffed the sword and tools into his belt, then grabbed the severed tail of the snake. After all, it was meat.

  When he turned the corner, Crystal’s voice echoed in the tunnel. He’d forgotten all about her. What if the snakes had gone this way instead of out the other exit? His throat tightened. Thank You, God, for Your sovereignty over snakes.

  Softly, echoing in the chambers of his heart, came a response: I am sovereign over explosions too.

  No.

  Jake halted. He tightened his grips on the python’s tail and the expiring torch.

  Yes.

  He forced himself to breathe. Yes, Lord, You are.

  The torchlight died. He lowered himself to his hands and knees to avoid hitting his head when the passageway narrowed to its exit. The floor stung his kneecaps where they’d been cut on his crawl in.

  I believe in Your total sovereignty, Lord. The declaration gave him peace. No matter what, he was loyal to God. He tucked the affirmation into a safe place in his heart.

  Crystal blew out a breath of relief at his appearance. “You were gone a long time.”

  He gave her a hug, he was so glad to see her alive. “I found a burial chamber and used up all three torches looking around.”

  She recoiled. “More Lone Soldiers?”

  “Twenty of them.” He decided not to tell her about the snakes. “And look what else.” He reached into the tunnel and retrieved the sword, bayonets, and shovels.

  She glanced at his precious booty as if it were covered in slime. “You aren’t going back in, are you?” She fingered the sad excuse for a torch she had assembled while waiting for him.

  “No. But thank you for making the torch. Okay if we save it for later?”

  “I know it needs fixing.”

  “I’ll work on it some, but what counts is that you didn’t quit.” He grinned at her. “Neither the torch nor waiting on me.”

  The corners of her mouth tipped up. “Here’s your Bible. Could you tell what I was reading?”

  He hadn’t listened to a word of it. He slipped it into his pocket and picked up the supplies from the cave. “You can read it again while I work on your torch. But first, let’s get these back to camp. Then I’ve got one more thing to do while you tend to your aunt.”

  On his return to the cave, he picked up two of the large seashells Crystal had stacked at the cove. He washed the snake carcass, removed its skin, and cut up the meat. All the while, he thought of the two monsters he had faced. Shells piled high with meat, he carried them with the same jubilation he was sure David had felt dragging Goliath’s head into camp.

  Surely the three women would hail him as the conquering hero.

  Chapter 27

  Eve stepped out of the pool. Gathering fruit was filthy business. The sweat and the scratches didn’t bother her so much as the bugs. There were hundreds, thousands of them. They bit and stung, crawled into her long hair, attacked the soft mucous of her eyes. Her ears, nose, and mouth—all were targets of investigation. Where were the birds and reptiles that were supposed to create a balanced ecology? No matter—she was determined to help Jake out by gathering fruit.

  She harvested more aloe leaves for Betty and herself and stuffed them into her pockets. The fruit she’d collected earlier was soaking in the shallows of the pool. She gathered them into her shirt and slogged downstream to camp.

  How had Jake done in the tunnel? Shame prickled over her conscience. The man saved her life, and what did she do? Punish him for what, being male? She snorted. Her boss said she let the courtroom color her opinions too much. And now, instead of helping Jake, she had deserted him. All right, she’d do better from here on. No matter how much he irritated her, she’d be nice.

  From a distance, she saw the glow of their campfire. Why a fire when it was only midmorning? The aroma of roasted meat drifted into sniffing range. Her mouth watered, and she slogged faster.

  When she entered camp, Jake rose, beaming. “Today, we feast!” He held up a seashell piled high with steaming lumps. “Today, we eat meat!”

  “What is it?” She set down the fruit and aloe leaves and reached for a morsel.

  “Protein!” His smile spread across the red stubble of his beard and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

  She dropped her hand. What was this? Why the evasion?

  “Careful, they’re hot, all right.” He set the platter down to remove several more pieces from a stick. After heaping them onto a second seashell, he did a ta-da wave over the two platters. “Eat hearty, everyone!”

  Betty and Crystal shrank back.

  “And why is the identity of the meat being kept a mystery?” Eve hitched her hands on her hips.

  “I like to know what I’m eating,” Betty grumped.

  Crystal wrinkled her nose and turned her head away.

  “I can’t believe all this wonderful meat is for me.” Widening his eyes, shaking his head, Jake bit a piece of the cooler meat in two and chewed it, rolling his eyes to the sky. “Ahhh, this has to be the crème de la crème of delicacies!” He popped the other half into his mouth and moaned.

  His humor was pitiful, but she’d promised to be nice, right? She eyed the diminishing pile as Jake helped himself again, smacking his lips. “All right, Jake, I’ll eat some just to shut you up.” She took a piece and chewed it.

  Oh, how excruciatingly delicious! She licked her lips and offered a piece to Betty. “You know, it is pretty good. I don’t think I’ll go into convulsions or pass out in ecstasy like Jake, but it is tasty.”

  Betty hesitated but finally took it and bit into it. “Tastes like turtle. What do you think, Crystal?”

  “I don’t like turtle.”

  “It’s not turtle.” Jake all but giggled.

  What was with this guy? He seemed awful pleased with himself. Eve shot her hand to her mouth. “It’s not monkey! Tell me you didn’t kill a monkey!”

  “Nope. Not monkey.”

  The guessing became a game. Crystal ventured a piece, then several more, and joined the bantering. Was this the first time since the explosions that anyone had laughed? Eve savored the pleasantry. Meat and laughter—they had needed both.

  When the last piece was gone and they still didn’t know the answer, Eve put it to Jake. “All right, confess. What was it?”

  Jake hunched away from t
hem. “Oh, please, ladies, you aren’t going to gang up on me, are you?” He grabbed Crystal’s hand. “Crystal, you’re my only hope—stand by me in my time of need!”

  “But I want to know too!” Crystal bit back a grin.

  “Now, this is pressure!” Jake stroked his scraggly beard. “What do I get for telling?”

  “I don’t have anything.” Crystal displayed her hands, palms up.

  “Sure you do. How about a kiss every morning to start the day? That would brighten things considerably for me.”

  She giggled and immediately planted a kiss on his cheek. “What about Aunty?”

  “I’d say a hug from her every day would mean a lot too.”

  Betty smiled. “It’s a deal.”

  Eve folded her arms and glared at him as he sized her up.

  “And you, Eve, how about if you and I take a hike up that volcano today?”

  Well, she certainly wasn’t going to argue with that. “Okay, then, Mr. Gourmet Chef, let’s have the answer to this big mystery. What was the meat you’re so giddy about?”

  His chest swelled with obvious pride. “Snake.”

  “Snake?” Impossible. “Those were big chunks of meat. Too big for a snake.”

  “Not for a python.”

  Her breath caught in her lungs as her mind matched the snake’s size to the pieces of meat.

  “Was it in the trench?” Crystal’s voice rose to a high pitch. “Where I was sitting?”

  Jake’s grin disappeared. “It’s okay, Pumpkin—here, let me tell you the story.” He put his arm around her. She was shaking.

  Eve’s mouth went dry as he told the story. The dark cave, the rotted skeletons, his torch going out . . . And snakes. Giant snakes. She shivered. She hadn’t thought about pythons being on the island. And Jake had been left to face them alone.

  “I don’t ever want to go in any cave!” Crystal wailed.

  Jake turned the child’s tear-streaked face to him. “We might have to, Crystal. If we don’t get out of here before the monsoon, we’ll need shelter. But believe me, I won’t give any snakes a chance to get in.”