by Betty Hanawa
"It's almost too hot to head back at this point,” Diego agreed reluctantly. “If the altitude and heat are bothering you two now, you'd collapse before we got down."
"I can make the caves,” Nita said. “I want to soak in the pool."
"What pool?” Angela asked.
"The hot pool."
Call's arm tightened around her. Diego squatted in front of her and studied her face.
"What?” Nita jerked her chin from Diego's fingers and banged a cheekbone on Call's shoulder.
"Just checking.” He sat back on his haunches. “Maybe we ought to just go on back. We can take it slow."
"I want to go to the cave. I want to go soak in the hot spring pool."
"Nita,” Diego said slowly. “There is no hot spring pool in the caves. There never has been."
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Chapter Seven
Nita closed her eyes and leaned against Call. Dimly, her brain still sluggish, she tried to remember what she'd been thinking about.
She'd been in these caves since her tenth birthday. She'd never seen a hot spring pool.
But the image was so real. She could smell the water, fresh and clear. Its warmth was as comfortable as a bathtub. She'd felt her own hands on her. She could still feel the heavy pressure of Call's shaft entering her. She'd heard the water splash while she and Call made love. She'd seen...
She'd seen his blue eyes. “I must have dreamed it."
Even though Call held Nita tight against his chest, her head cradled on his shoulder, he could barely hear her voice. He couldn't bear the disappointment in it. He wanted to make everything better.
And, weird as it was, he thought he knew where a hot spring pool was located in the caves. He'd never been in it. Hell, he'd never even seen it. But, as though he'd been there a dozen times, he knew he could find it once he got to the main cavern.
He wanted to tell Nita he could find it for her, but she wouldn't believe him. Damn it all, he didn't believe it himself. But he'd find it. Then he'd make love to her, just like in his dream.
By the time Nita had some color back in her cheeks, the sun blazed. They could see the first of the heat waves coming up the valley floor.
"Okay,” Diego decided, “we'll go to the caves. With this heat, we'll all have heat strokes trying to get back down. We'll take it slow."
Call stayed beside Nita when he could, directly behind her when he couldn't walk by her side.
Diego led the way further up the mountain. The main cave opening had been permanently sealed by Ramirez ranch hands under Diego's supervision after the goddamned assholes hurt themselves and then sued. By the time they reached the hidey-hole entrance, Call wished he'd kept up his sports club membership. It wouldn't have helped the altitude dizziness that was making his head spin, but at least his calves and back wouldn't have been aching and cramping.
Diego unlocked the combination lock on the sealed opening. Abruptly, he turned to Angela. “This is almost too damn late to ask. Are you claustrophobic?"
"No. I like caves."
"We have to go in through a tunnel. It's a natural tunnel, but there are parts where we have to slide on our bellies and push our packs in front of us. Can you handle that?"
"Of course,” Angela assured Diego.
Call wished he had Angela's confidence. For the twenty minutes since they'd left the main entrance, dread gibbered in his stomach and tried to send him back down the mountain. He forced his feet to keep moving. He made his mouth say appropriately light things.
The idea of squirming through that hole made his skin crawl, which he didn't understand at all. He'd been through the hidey-hole dozens of times. This time Call found himself obsessing with the thought of the mountain collapsing on him, trapping him forever.
"Call? You want to lead in?"
Hell, no. He wanted to fly back to Phoenix and deal with scum. Call never wanted to go into another cave for the rest of his life. But Nita was waiting for him. “Uh, sure."
He could do this. He would do this. He'd done this dozens of times.
Winding the crank on his flashlight to the full hour of its charge, he then attached it onto his hat and set his pack at the mouth of the hole. He buttoned his flannel shirt over his T-shirt because within a few minutes of entering the hole he'd be grateful for its warmth as much as he'd appreciate the warmth of the gloves he put on to protect his hands while he crawled.
Call also tried to remember how many times he'd crawled through this too low, too long, too cold passage. Then he took a deep breath and pushed aside the heebie-jeebies whine that beat in his skull about not going into that hole. Firmly, Call promised the coward a beer, cooled in the bubble spring in what long ago had been designated “The Kitchen Cave.” He had a six-pack. Diego had a six-pack. As soon as he got through this damn hole, he'd have a beer.
With a resigned sigh, Call knelt and pushed his pack into the hole. No, he couldn't go home to Phoenix right now. Damn macho pride wouldn't let him bag this in front of his brother or Nita.
Slowly, Call began the crawl forward. Nita came in behind him. He could do this.
The dusty cool scent of millenniums of rock greeted him. Call inhaled deeply, catching the distant tang of bat shit. Good old bats were his favorite animal, not only because they ate mosquitoes but also because they pollinated the night-blooming agave plants. Without the bats, there would be no tequila.
Damn it. Next time he did this, he was packing a plastic bottle of tequila, not just a six-pack of beer.
Call crawled in deeper. Sunlight faded behind him, first as the others followed and blocked the light, then as he went in further.
The cold leeched through his jeans and gloves from rock never exposed to sunlight. Occasionally, he put his hand or a knee on a pebble. Most of the loose stuff was smoothed to the sides by younger brothers and cousins who'd sneaked in to watch their elders make-out with their girlfriends.
Call banged a shoulder on an outcropping. Damn it. He wasn't twelve any more. What the hell was he doing crawling through this fucking hole? He was too big and too old for this. He didn't want to do this.
Despite the chill, Call began to sweat. He hadn't even reached the halfway point yet. Thank God, somebody years ago had the brains to mark the walls so they could track their way. Call tried to speed up his crawl, but he still had to push the pack in front of him.
He didn't know why he wanted to go faster anyway. After the halfway point was that god-awful narrow stretch with the backscratcher. Logically, he knew this portion of the cave wouldn't collapse. But he'd swear he heard the rock groan.
Nita pushed her backpack into his feet. “Come on, Call. This is boring. Pick up the pace."
"Do you want to lead?"
"Works for me. Lay down and let me crawl over you."
Despite his increasing nervousness, at least Og sprang to attention.
"Do you promise to grope me while you climb all over me?"
"Did Hell freeze over?” Nita snapped back. “Besides,” she hissed softly, “Diego's right behind us."
"Move your butts, you two,” Diego's voice echoed sourly behind them. “Son of a bitch, I'd forgotten how fucking cold this passage is. Wish like hell there was a hot spring pool in the damn cave so we could warm up."
Og got harder at the thought of Nita's warm body helping Call warm up.
"Lead, follow or get out of the way,” Angela added. “How much longer is this?"
Nita shoved her backpack into Call's feet. “At the rate, Call's moving, it's going to take forever."
"Are you going to climb over me?” Call whispered back to her. “Please?"
"Move it, Call,” Diego ordered. “Or I'll climb over both the women and we'll warm ourselves with your guts after I slice you open."
Call started moving again. He kept a sharp eye on rock formations to either side of the tunnel in front of him. The pack's weight didn't shift forward quite as easily. He checked the wall mark. Yes, just at the beginning of the
incline.
"Here's the uphill. Angela, it's about a twenty-degree pitch."
"Thank you, Call."
"When it levels out again, the tunnel narrows and lowers to a backscratcher,” Diego warned her.
"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine,” Angela said.
Nita nudged him again. “Lead on, Macduff."
"'Lay on, Macduff,'” came Angela's voice from the darkness behind Call.
Call grunted while he slithered forward to join his pack. “I always heard it as ‘Lead on, Macduff,’ Professor Doctor."
"Corrupted sometime in the early 1900's. Macbeth: Act 5, Scene 8,” Angela said.
"'Lay on, Macduff,'” Diego's deep voice intoned. “'And damn'd be him that first cries, ‘Hold, enough!’”
The tunnel echoed with Diego's rendition of Macbeth's final battle cry. Vaguely, Call remembered Diego as Macbeth in a high school play.
"Do you have an Apache Chief ancestor who used that voice to incite the tribe to war?” Angela asked.
"Also a Spanish priest who led the battle to convert the savages for their souls,” Diego added. “And prayed for those dead who weren't converted at the end of a Conquistador's musket."
On elbows and knees, Call scraped his body through to the level point and pushed his backpack into it. He collapsed on the flat and concentrated on breathing. One in, one out. He could do this. He wiped his sweaty face on his shoulder.
"Call, what's wrong?” Nita's voice circled around him through the roaring in his ears. “Is the way blocked?"
"Just catching my breath."
"You used to go through this so fast you'd leave us all in the dust. Getting soft in that big city lawyer job there, boy?” Diego's voice bounced off the damn walls.
"Do you have to yell?” Call snapped back. “The fucking echo gives me a headache."
Again Call began to pull himself through the narrowest, lowest part of the tunnel. He gripped rock with his fingers and pushed with his toes.
Fifteen feet. He only had to go fifteen feet. A fucking inch at a time.
Damn hole used to be bigger. When he was twelve. When he was a skinny seventeen-year-old, his thirty-five-year-old, mostly desk-bound self sneered.
No, the damn hole definitely had gotten smaller. His shoulders didn't brush the sides of the passageway the last time he was here. He hunched his shoulders in to make himself smaller. The ceiling brushed the top of his skull. He ducked down until his nose and chin scraped rock. He had to be almost at the end. He twisted his head to see the halfway mark.
He shuddered. He might have to go back. He heard Nita's breathing behind him and the scrape of her pack pushed along in front of her.
The air grew close and tight. Stale. Maybe the end passage had collapsed cutting off their air. His heart tried to bang its way out of his chest. It echoed in his headache.
He felt hot, then clammy in the cave chill.
His chest pain intensified. He was having a fucking heart attack right here in the fucking cave.
He relaxed. Nothing to worry about now. His heart would stop pounding, and the pain would quit when his heart stopped. He would just die right here. They could leave his body here.
Call was ready to die. He was at peace.
Until Nita's pack landed on his calves.
"What the fuck do you have in there? Rocks?"
"Not yet,” Nita said with irritating calmness. “I'll make my rock choices on the way back. This is mostly food."
She pushed her pack beside his calves. “Roll onto your side. I'm coming up."
Call manage to move a hand to help her balance while she slithered up his body. Why couldn't he just die in peace?
Under normal conditions, Call might have enjoyed the press of Nita's soft curves rocking against him while she settled beside him.
But he was dying of a heart attack and the walls were closing in. The fucking mountain kept groaning around him. The rocks were going to crack and fall on him and Nita. He probably could live with dying. Shit, his brain was so messed up he couldn't think. He didn't mind dying, but he couldn't deal with Nita's body crushed and bleeding, too. He wouldn't be able to protect her.
The quivering deep inside him moved to his hands. Even his arms and legs started shaking. Call wrapped his arm around Nita. The earthquake would crush the mountain into the tunnels and caves. He wanted his last thoughts to be of Nita.
"What the hell's going on up there?” Diego's bass voice reverberated in the tight tunnel.
"There's a fucking earthquake, and you want to know what's going on! We're all going to die!” Call gripped Nita as tightly as he could. “I don't want you hurt. Try to get out. Don't stay with me."
"Call. Call.” Nita lightly slapped his face. “There is no earthquake. The mountain's fine. No one's going to die today."
Through Call's terror, he began to believe Nita. The earthquake wouldn't kill Nita. He could die peacefully from his heart attack. His pulse banged an erratic rhythm. He couldn't breathe, but he could smell her combination of scents—shampoo, sweat, dust, musky woman cream.
"What the fuck's happening?” Diego yelled again.
"The mountain's sucking Call,” Nita told him. “You and Angela get out of the tube in case we decide to come back."
"I'm coming to help."
Goddamnit. Why did everyone have to scream so loud? His head didn't even pound in the same tempo as his heart attack. He swallowed, surprised he had any spit in his mouth.
"Back up, Diego,” Call heard Angela's melodic alto order. “You can't get through there with both of them in the tube. Wait. Let your sister take care of Call. She can handle him."
Good old Og jumped hard against his zipper when Nita's hand stroked his crotch. Maybe at least he'd die happy if Og still wanted to come out and play.
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Chapter Eight
"Call, the mountain isn't going to fall on us."
"I know,” Call said. He hadn't realized how miserable he'd feel when he died. He had more regrets than he could cope with. He should have seduced Nita when he came home from college and realized how gorgeous Diego's little sister had grown. He should have married Nita years ago instead of Jeanine. “I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to get together before I die."
Nita switched off his light and took off her cap so her light shone back down the tube to where Diego and Angela must be waiting for her.
"Don't pull out my body after I'm dead. Just leave me here."
"Call,” Nita's voice sounded like her mother, Consuelo, who scolded all kids indiscriminately. “You are not going to die. The mountain is not going to fall on you."
"No. It's not.” Damn it. He would not cry in front of Nita. Just because his heart was failing didn't mean he would be a wuss about it. “I'm having a heart attack."
Nita's fingers were warm against his cold neck. Her tits pressed in soft rounds on his chest.
He shifted to ease Og's pressure on his zipper. Og snuggled up next to Nita's crotch like it was heaven.
"You are not having a heart attack. The mountain is trying to suck you in. You're having a panic attack."
"Don't be ridiculous. Grant me the dignity of dying from my heart attack in peace. I've never had a panic attack in my life. I've been in these caves since I was ten. I was twelve the first time I came down the tube."
"Did you ever sneak down to spy on Diego and the cousins?"
Og pushed harder against his zipper. “Nita."
"Aw, come on. Don't get all stuffy. We girls knew it. Hell, a couple of my cousins got their boyfriends to bring them down here so they could have sex knowing they'd have an audience."
"Nita!"
"I never came. Never even came to watch.” Disappointment laced Nita's voice. “Did you ever have sex down here?"
"Um, no."
Nita snuggled closer to him. She moved her hand between their bodies.
Call felt her breasts swing slightly when she unfastened the bra hook between her breasts.
She took his hand and slid it up her shirt to wrap around her warm tit. “Feel that?"
"Haven't died yet.” Og throbbed again to make his presence known.
"You are not going to die. You're not having a heart attack. You're having a panic attack."
With a warm tit in his hand and Nita's hand rubbing across his zipper, Call thought maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't die right now.
He stroked Nita's breast. The nipple hardened under his fingers. His mouth twitched to suckle it.
Nita reached over his body and lightly smacked his butt. “Hang on. Let's move my pack up by yours."
Shifting and tugging, they managed to maneuver Nita's backpack between their bodies and the tube roof and stick it beside Call's.
When Nita settled back down, Call reached into the darkness for her tit again. Instead, he discovered her shirt had gotten shoved to her neck. He pressed his mouth to her breast and pulled the nipple hard into his mouth.
"This cave tube is part of Mother Earth,” Nita chanted softly. “I am part of Mother Earth."
Call devoured the soft roundness, ending with the tip of his tongue against her nipple. He swept his tongue over her tit again, then again before taking it in his mouth.
Nita continued her litany. “I give you my breasts to suckle to give you joy as some day they will give my child nourishment the way Mother Earth gives her children nourishment. I am part of Mother Earth."
Nita shifted again, despite the tightness of the cave tube holding them together.
He continued to feast on her tit but let her take his hand. She guided it down her belly and across her mons.
He realized she'd unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down her pants while he'd been preoccupied with her breast. He stroked his fingers against her smooth pussy, reaching for the moisture he could smell.
"This tube is Mother Earth's passage to her great goodness in the caves. This tight tube is her entryway back to Father Sun. Stroke my vagina and explore its goodness and its gifts while we wait in Mother Earth's vagina and think of her gifts."
His mouth continued to ply her breast while he stroked and fondled her folds. He fitted one finger, then a second into her. He pumped them in and out while his cock tightened to unbearable pressure.
