Nightmares Rise

by Mirren Hogan

  She pulled up a chair for herself at the small, rickety table. “Nah. You just caught me at the right time.”

  “I need to swing by my rental and pick up my camera before we go caving. It probably wouldn’t hurt if I put on something that makes me look less like a tourist.” He looked down at the shirt. It had seemed like a good idea when he bought it. Now it just looked kitsch and screamed, ‘I’m a tourist, please, rip me off! Thankfully she hadn’t done that. Yet.

  “Actually, a wet suit might be better. A good part of the trek is slugging through water. I’ve got a spare that should fit you. It’s somewhere in the jeep.” She pushed a plate at him and gestured for Flynn to start eating.

  He skewered a piece of bacon with a fork. “What else have you got that would fit me?” He couldn’t help but wonder what she was hiding under her clothes and whether she was as wild in bed as she was behind the wheel of a car. And whether he’d ever get to find out.

  She raised an eyebrow and smiled, “In the jeep? Magnums in the glove box.” She stood and poured them both coffee, adding cream to one of the chipped mugs sitting beside the old percolator.

  “You don’t mean the ice creams, do you?” he joked. His sweet tooth included a partiality toward ice cream, especially when it came chocolate-covered.

  “Nope, not ice cream. Although those are freakin’ yummy!”

  “They are,” he agreed. “Almost as good as this.” He tucked into the rest of his breakfast and washed it down with coffee so strong it’d keep him up for days. Just how he liked it.

  “It isn’t hard to fry bacon. Unless the hot plate decides to go out. It only works about half the week.” She smiled at him over her own cup.

  “And what do you do for the rest of the week?”

  “Cold pizza and coke,” Makani spoke around a mouthful of bacon.

  Flynn snorted and almost spat out his food.

  He watched her while he ate. She was so impetuous, so interesting. He was drawn to her like he hadn’t been drawn to anyone in a long time. No, ever. And it wasn’t her crazy driving and quirky lifestyle. It wasn’t about physical attraction, although that was there, undeniably. Rather, he felt as though he’d known her for years, not just hours.

  And yet, he knew almost nothing about her.

  “You grew up here?”

  Makani nodded. “Yup. Out of five kids, I was the one Mom and Dad couldn’t figure out. So I spent a lot of time at this house. Learned everything I actually needed to know here. Grandpa died, so I stayed with Grandma after I finished college. When she died, she left me her house. And the cats.”

  “That sounds a bit like my relationship with my parents,” he said. “I have two sisters, but I was the biggest disappointment. All because I was the one they had high hopes for. Straight A student, school captain, early entry into Sydney uni. The proverbial Golden Child, who would probably end up supporting them in their old age, and in a manner they’d like to become accustomed to, as they say,”

  Makani tilted her head to the side, her deep brown eyes intent as she listened.

  “And yet, here I am, sitting in a strange house with a woman I met last night, eating bacon and toast cooked on a burner that only works half the time. More or less unemployed and dressed in the worst Aloha shirt on the island.” He remembered the look of disappointment on his mother’s face, the set of his father’s jaw. They’d given up so much for him and he’d repaid them by throwing it all in and running away to chase a dream. And he couldn’t be happier.

  “It could be worse,” he grinned.

  “Yeah . . . You coulda become an oyster farmer. That would’ve been tragic!” She got out of her chair and stretched. “I’m gonna check my gear, make sure everything is good to go. Just throw whatever’s leftover outside for the cats. They’ll eat it. I’ll grab my bag and some lamps.” Makani left the room.

  Hopefully, her lamps would work better than the hot plate. Flynn didn’t relish the idea of being stuck down in a dark cave, especially a dark, wet cave, with no way to find their way out again. It was right up there on his list of ways he wouldn’t want to die, along with every other way he could think of, except in bed with a beautiful woman.

  He rose and tossed the bacon rind in the general direction of the cats and put his plate and mug in the sink. No dishwasher. That figured. Even if there was one, he doubted it would work.

  He buttoned his shirt and grabbed his shoes and tablet. He switched it on; no messages.

  “Hey, you got batteries in there?” She called from the other room.

  “I have camera batteries, but they’re with my camera.” Which he hoped hadn’t been stolen in his absence. “What do you need them for?” He had a few ideas and grinned.

  “Uhhh, double-A’s? Get your mind out of the gutter!”

  “It’s not in the gutter.” More like the drawer beside the bed. He might have to poke around and have a look before they left. He pushed his feet into his shoes and followed the sound of her voice to find her.

  Makani was on the hardwood floor, reaching for her hiking sticks and jean shorts under her bed. She was nearly naked from the waist down, and the breeze had blown her bedroom door wide open.

  Flynn leaned against the doorframe again and cleared his throat. “And you wonder why my mind is in the gutter.” The view was definitely better here than it had been from the lookout last night.

  “What? Oh!” She rapped herself on the bed frame as she squiggled out. Makani cursed and rubbed the sore spot at the crown of her head. “Don’t people knock in Australia?”

  “Naw, no doors Down Under.” He exaggerated his accent, making the twang more pronounced. “Sorry, but do you often wander around half-naked with the door wide open? Maybe you shouldn’t answer that.” He added hastily, trying not to smile too broadly.

  Makani pursed her lips and stood up, shorts in hand. “If I knew you were planning on watching, I would’ve charged admission.” She sat on the bed and squirmed into her pants.

  “I would have paid it, but I don’t have any money on me. You’ll have to take it out of my hide.” He grinned. “Which bit would you like?”

  “I might take those abs and use them to do laundry. Washing machine’s busted.” She grabbed a dirty sock and threw it at him.

  He ducked the well-aimed missile and grinned.

  She took a few things out of her pack and carefully zipped it. She grabbed another towel, a spare bottle of water, the larger first aid kit, and had her GPS tracker on the bed, next to a pile of unfolded underwear and bikini tops.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Yep, let’s do it. Leave, I mean. Although . . . ” He moved from the doorway before she found a better projectile.

  Makani just shook her head and picked up her pack. Grabbing the keys off the counter she found her phone under the junk mail and locked the door behind them. The cats scattered but closed ranks once they had passed. Makani threw her bag on the back seat before fishing around in the rear of the jeep.

  “Wetsuit.” She threw the garment on the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel.

  Flynn peeled it off the seat, shook off the sand that caked the black rubber and stowed it on the floor before climbing into the jeep.

  “Ready?” She shoved the key into the ignition and began working on the ignition wires.

  “I think so.” At least Flynn knew what to expect now.

  The jeep roared to life, and she clicked her seatbelt into place. Makani reversed out of the driveway. She ignored the cats that scrambled out of her way and nearly hit a passing school bus. “Yeah, so I’m headed east?”

  “Yeah.” Flynn hung onto the handle and mouthed an apology to the bus full of surprised kids. He ignored the rude gesture the driver gave them. Not the nicest sign in front of a bus load of children. “Maybe a bit slower this time?” Not that he held out much hope. She seemed to have two speeds, fast and faster.

  “We’re gonna have to. Rush hour. Lame!” Makani grabbed her sunglasses off the dash. As she said,
the roads were clogged with people headed to their jobs or school, making the drive much more sedate. “I meant to ask, but how long are you staying?”

  “I have a six-month visa,” he replied, watching the scenery pass by at a slower and less nauseating pace. “If I can find some work or a gallery that wants to show my stuff, I’ll stay for a while. Otherwise, I guess I’ll stick around until my money runs out.” That wouldn’t be too long, even if he scrimped and saved. The point was probably moot, though. Hanging around with her, he’d likely be dead with a bank account full of money. At least she’d make life more interesting while it lasted.

  “All right. Hey, I know some gallery owners in Haleiwa. That’s way far to the north, in the country-country part of the island. If there’s time, I can get you introduced.” Makani glanced at him, as she cut off an SUV.

  “If I survive, that would be great.” Maybe then the emails from his mother, begging him to come home, would finally stop. He could settle down here for a while. It wouldn’t make her as happy as going back to Australia, but at least he wouldn’t be transient. “Maybe I could pay you back for the show too?” he teased.

  “Hey! Quid pro quo! You saw mine, I totally get to see yours!” Makani finally seemed to notice that she had gotten too close to the truck ahead and tapped her brakes.

  “Is that in our contract?” His hand tightened on the handle. He didn’t realize he was gritting his teeth until they started to hurt.

  Was that the sound of metal grinding on metal? He closed his eyes and swallowed. Maybe he shouldn’t think about it too much.

  Live life in the moment.

  “No, but then, I figured everything was negotiable. And relax! This is Hawaii! People are used to bad drivers.” She reached a hand to his thigh and squeezed tight.

  Her touch sent a jolt up into his groin. Then it registered that she was driving with one hand. Suddenly the thought that he might not survive didn’t seem so funny.

  Flynn took his hand off the handle and covered hers. Her skin was warm and very smooth. He hooked his fingers around her hand, peeled it off his knee and pressed it onto the steering wheel.

  Makani smirked but didn’t say anything. Once they were through the bottleneck, it was smooth sailing to the east. They headed past Diamond Head and around sharp turns. “I’m gonna guess you’ll tell me when to stop, right?”

  “Yeah, not that far from here.” He watched the scenery, getting his bearings before he pointed to a street to the right. “Number six. The place with the—” He’d been about to say palm tree. “Red front door. Watch out for the neighbor’s dogs. They like to wander.” On the other hand, if she ran them over, the barking wouldn’t wake him anymore.

  Unluckily, Makani was not able to score points for a live kill. She pulled into the narrow driveway, and took her sunglasses off. “No wonder you’re broke. They’re probably charging you an arm and leg for this place.”

  “Yeah. But look at the view.” He peeled his hand off the handle, now that they were safely stationary, and gestured out toward the ocean. They were close enough to see the whitecaps on the waves before they crashed onto the sand. A couple walked hand in hand, barefoot in the shallows. A seabird wheeled above, squawking. The picture of paradise for the average tourist.

  “Not that I’m here to look at it much,” he conceded. “You coming in?” He released his seatbelt and climbed out of the jeep.

  “Sure.” She shrugged out of the restraints and followed. “I’ve always wanted to see how a starving artist-slash-tourist lives in Hawaii.”

  Flynn dug into the back pocket of his jeans and felt around for the key. He needed to get a keyring for it, to make it easier to find. He caught it between his thumb and forefinger and unlocked the front door.

  Of course, the lock would only keep an honest person out. The door was thin and flimsy, the red paint peeling. He pushed it open, revealing the screen door that was typical for most houses on the islands, and swung that out of the way, as well. It was tiny, only a single bedroom, small bathroom, and kitchen-slash-lounge, but it was enough for one lonely tourist.

  He put his tablet down on the kitchen counter. The room hadn’t been renovated for at least twenty years, but it was surprisingly solid. More than Makani’s place, anyway. Whoever had put it in had meant it to last, not stay in vogue.

  His camera and equipment were right where he left it—on the floor in his bedroom. Flynn bent over to pick up the equipment, then turned around to see Makani watching him.

  She leaned against the frame of the door, a smirk across her face. “It’s cute, but it ain’t a chick magnet,” she said as her eyes took in the decor.

  “I can’t afford a chick magnet,” Flynn pointed out, hoping she was referring to the house. “I’m lucky I’m not sleeping on the beach yet. I have been keeping an eye out for a rich widow, though.” He smiled. If he was that sleazy, he’d have stuck with law.

  “So, is this where you call in our debt?” He asked.

  “Hey, you saw mine . . . ” Makani crossed her arms and didn’t move. “It’s only fair!”

  “Do I look that easy?” He tilted his head to one side and feigned innocence.

  “Not easy . . . but you studied law, so I think you can appreciate fairness and equality. You got a chance to leer at my goodies. So I think I should get a chance to look at yours.”

  “Oh, I don’t have a problem with equality, just stripping off in front of other people.” Even a woman as cute as his present company. “Maybe if I had some help . . . ?”

  “Oh! Help! Right, gotcha!” Makani flipped the phone out from her back pocket and turned on a loud tune with a skanky stripper beat. “There ya go!”

  He laughed. “Sorry, I might have to give you a rain check. That really is ruining the mood!” He shouted to be heard over the phone. “Come on, let’s go and see this cave.”

  She turned her phone off. “Don’t let me keep you!” She looked at him with a wide grin and waited. “Oh! You want me to get outta here so I don’t see your betel nuts and banana! Gotcha!” She turned around and went back out the door, but not without a quick glance over her shoulder.

  Banana?

  Flynn smirked, pulled off his bad Aloha shirt and jeans and tossed them onto the floor. Glancing to see if she was watching through the doorway and at least half hoping she was, he put on a blue polo shirt and shorts. He had to suck his stomach in a little before buttoning up his shorts. More exercise, and less food. But the food here was so good. And so fried.

  Grabbing hold of the handle of his camera bag, Flynn lifted it up onto his shoulder and walked the four steps to the kitchen.

  “I’m ready. Can I drive this time?” He asked, knowing she’d say ‘no’.

  “If you knew where we were going, sure. But since you don’t, I guess I’ll have to.” Makani slipped her sunglasses back onto her nose and sauntered out to the jeep’s driver side to begin the ritual of hot wiring it to life.

  “I had to try.” He closed and locked the door and climbed back into the death trap that passed for a car.

  CHAPTER 3

  “You can let go, now. We’re here.” Makani’s voice was far too chipper for the hellish ride on which she had just taken Flynn. Speeding up and down back streets, nearly running over college students on their way to class, and illegal turns had finally gotten them to the gate that led into the karst.

  “Let go of what?” Flynn asked, quickly releasing the handle. “Is it legal to go through there?”

  “It’s federal property, so it’s only illegal if we get caught. But don’t worry, no one patrols here at this hour. Even with school in session.” She trotted to the back of the jeep and stripped down to her bikini before working a wetsuit on.

  “That would be a yes,” he muttered. “You realize that I could get deported, right? They’ll never let me back into the country.” Still, he followed her example, removing his clothes, down to his board shorts and hastily pulling on the borrowed wetsuit. It was a bit too large, hanging loosel
y off his stomach and rear.

  Her eyes slid appreciatively over his body. A physically fit man was a rare thing in Makani’s life these days, and the sight of one in close proximity was a treat.

  “Don’t worry—you can say I kidnapped you. And I’m crazy, so they’ll let me off! It’s a win-win.” Makani switched on the headlamps to make sure they both worked, then set her GPS tracker to their coordinates. A quick text was shot to one of her brothers, stating where she was and that she had a ‘buddy’ along for the trip, and where to find the jeep. All that rounded out her usual safety precautions before deeming them ready to move out.

  He muttered something which sounded like “Whatever you say,” and grabbed the strap of his camera bag. “I hope you have insurance.”

  “Of course. Now come on. The way is short, but it’s slow treading.” She handed him one of the lamps and slung her pack onto her back.

  He pulled the lamp onto his forehead and took a photo of the ‘keep out’ sign on the side of the entrance.

  “I have to admit, this is exciting.” He said, his voice low. “It reminds me of my uni days, trying to sneak into . . . places.”

  “Places? Like where?” Makani asked.

  “My uni had a dorm just for the girls,” he replied. “And I was underage for the bar.”

  Makani glanced back at him, trying to imagine the hell raiser he might have been a couple of years back. She probably would have left a window open for him.

  She opened the gate and led him through. “Into the gutter we go,” She swung herself down and waited beside the entrance, which was, for all intents and purposes, a storm water pipe. Luckily it hadn’t rained for weeks.

  “It smells like one,” he said, taking another photo. The flash lit up the tired, stained concrete hole through which they were about to pass.

  “That’s just the rotten debris. It doesn’t move much further in. Not after the dry spell we’ve had.” The storm drain had ledges on either side, at this point. It would be a hundred yards before they got to the real start of the cavern.

  “Now, watch for insects,” she warned, speaking over her shoulder.