Catalyst

by Ross Richdale

  Courtney sucked on a bottom lip before turning and reaching in the backpack. She took out three fruit bars and handed them around. "So what're our chances, now?"

  "Probably no different. Sam's death explains the longer wait, that's all. We'll be found, I guarantee it."

  "Did you find a way out?"

  "I'm afraid not. There's a sheer cliff and loose stuff everywhere. If we try to reach the upper cave we could bring the lot down on top of us."

  "So what will that rescue team do when they arrive?" Courtney's voice sharpened.

  "They'll have equipment," Renee cut in. "There may be a different way in. I'm sure there'll be experts who know what they're doing."

  "Like Sam?" Courtney asked.

  Lem glanced at Renee and raised an eyebrow.

  "Courtney was telling me a little about herself," Renee said. "I'm keen to hear what happened, if you don't mind listening."

  "Not at all," Lem replied. It was obvious she wanted to get the girl's mind off their situation. "And what about yourself?"

  "Yeah," the teenager said. "You've told us nothing. Why are you here?"

  "I slipped down this whopping great hole," Renee said.

  "I know that," Courtney retorted. "You know what I mean."

  "Sure. I'll just bore you both, I'm afraid."

  "Try us," Lem replied.

  "Well, I'm a junior lawyer, glorified secretary, chief bottle washer and pen pusher, really." She gave a little laugh. "Well, key pusher in front of a computer monitor, it is."

  "And I'm sure very talented," Lem said.

  "Maybe, if I'm ever given a chance to try."

  "So the old bastards rule the roost where you work, too," Courtney added.

  "Not really. The old bastard, as you call it, is a woman in her thirties who succeeds in making everyone around her feel inferior but damned if I'm going to grovel."

  "Good for you, Renee," Lem said. "Somehow, I can't imagine anyone getting the better of you."

  "No." She sighed. "But it isn't easy, you know."

  ****

  It was ten to five when Annette Usborne placed the twenty-page document on Renee's desk and fixed her steely eyes on her. "The layout of this will for Mrs. Stein is incorrect. You know we indent paragraphs."

  Renee swore under her breath and glowered at the junior partner. "It is the legal standard layout of wills," she explained. "Modern procedures do not indent paragraphs but double-space them instead."

  "That may very well be but in our firm…" Annette continued.

  "Then get Lois or one of the secretaries to do it," retorted Renee. "I'm busy at the moment." This was a small matter but the constant pinpricking over the last six months was getting to her.

  "She's gone home," hissed the other woman. "I agreed to take the will for Mrs. Stein to sign this evening. She is one of our most valued clients, you know."

  Normally, Renee would have grimaced, taken the document and redone it. This time she stopped and turned to the immaculately dressed woman standing by her desk. "Then do it yourself, Annette."

  "Why of all the..." Usborne began.

  "I am not a secretary or typist," Renee replied in a controlled voice. "I am a qualified lawyer. If you are so concerned about changing modern layout, I feel sorry for you."

  Annette Usborne's face turned white with anger and her jutting chin shook when William Usborne Senior walked into the open office. Annette's father was in his mid-sixties, prim and of the old school. He was, though, scrupulously fair and in Renee's eyes, far more genuine than either his daughter or son, William Junior. Unfortunately, the rumors were that the elder William would retire at the end of the year.

  "Trouble?" he asked and raised his bushy gray eyebrows.

  "Look at this, Dad," Annette retorted and handed the will to her father.

  William Senior took the document and turned to Renee. "Do you mind?"

  "Not at all."

  The elderly man sat in the seat for Renee's clients and took reading glasses from his top suit pocket. He read every word of the document, while his daughter glowered and Renee sat tight-lipped in anticipation.

  "You did well," he said when he reached the end. "Old Clara was adamant her eldest daughter would receive nothing in her estate. How did you talk her around, Renee?"

  "I told her if she cut Gloria out, the will could be contested in family court and there was a high chance the action would be successful. I had to show her the findings of several court actions to convince her."

  "But, Daddy..."

  "Oh hush up, Annette."

  "But the layout."

  The old man glanced back at the sheets. "It's different than our usual format, I must admit," he said. "But I like it. I'm sure old Clara will be able to follow it with ease." He looked at Renee. "I like the terminology you use, Renee. Much superior to the flowery language we usually put up with, isn't it?" He chuckled, stood and turned to Annette. "Now what was the disagreement?"

  "Nothing."

  "Problems from your side?" he continued as he turned to Renee.

  "Not really," she said in a low voice. "Annette didn't agree with the layout, that's all."

  "Didn't she?" William Senior replied. He frowned at his daughter and walked out.

  The junior partner stood, red-faced and grim and waited for Renee to speak. Instead the younger woman looked up. "If you're really that concerned, I'll redo it before I go home, Annette. It's all on memory so will take only a few moments to alter."

  Silence reigned while she watched Annette and waited for a first reaction.

  "No, it doesn't matter," Annette replied in a whisper. "As Dad said, I'm sure Mrs. Stein won't notice the difference. Have a good evening, Renee."

  She turned and strutted out.

  ****

  As Renee drove north on I-5 from Mount Vernon, the small city where she worked, her mind relived the situation.

  "Damn woman," she muttered as she headed inland up the Shagit Valley. This latest episode was a pyrrhic victory with Annette now openly hostile. William Senior was an enigma. He had never helped her before and rarely said more than the casual greeting on most days. A couple weeks earlier he'd forgotten her name and referred to her as Jennifer, a girl in the typing pool.

  It was after six when she arrived home at the farmhouse she shared with her father. She parked in the barn, spent a couple moments talking to Zona the dog and walked inside. The modern open-space kitchen smelt of a cooking roast and a late middle-aged man glanced back from stove to smile.

  "Hello, Renee," he said. "Was today any better?"

  "Different, Dad," she replied and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Old William stood up for me. Mind you, Annette isn't going to improve." She sighed. "It's as if she purposely finds fault in everything I do."

  "She's envious, perhaps even jealous, Sweetheart," Jack Bonnett said in a low voice. He shut the oven door and limped across to her. She glanced up with empathy in her eyes. Dad tried hard to lead a normal life but since the stroke last year that paralyzed his left side, he found it difficult.

  "Jealous of me, Dad? But why?"

  "You're young with higher qualifications than her. She's an old maid with little to look forward to except the silly firm and rows with her lazy brother."

  Renee frowned and leaned forward. "How do you know, Dad? I never told you anything about William Junior."

  "You didn't have to," Jack replied. "Not after that staff party a few months back. I know the guy made a pass at you."

  Renee flushed. "But how?"

  Jack Bonnett smiled that half smile caused by partly immobile lips. "I also know you turned him down flat and came home early. I wondered what brought on the tears that evening."

  "The sod has a young wife and two kids," Renee retorted. She stopped and frowned. "Have you been spying on me, Dad?"

  "Not at all." Jack changed the topic. "Will you take the roast out of the oven, sweetheart? I'd hate to drop it."

  Renee glanced at the beautifully cooked meal, grabb
ed the oven gloves, took the steaming food and set it on the stovetop. "You've done enough, Dad. Sit down and I'll serve it."

  Jack sat in the chair his daughter vacated. "But I enjoy doing it."

  He switched his attention to the news on a small television in the corner, while Renee served out two generous portions.

  Jack's eating was mainly one-handed but through sheer willpower, he managed movement on his paralyzed side and insisted on holding a knife between the curled fingers.

  "Can I cut your meat, Dad?"

  Jack glanced up and whispered, "Thanks, Sweetheart." He used to argue and attempt the impossible himself but since accepting his disability, he had made better progress. A few weeks earlier he would have been unable to open the oven door, let alone roast a meal.

  As they ate he began to talk. "I've never really liked those business clubs, too snobbish for me but lately I've found I enjoy the company of old guys like myself at The Puget Sound Club in Mount Vernon. You know, we have a few beers, play cards…"

  "I'm pleased. I'm glad you got into the habit of going every Wednesday. That's what you need, rather than becoming a hermit out here on the farm." She stopped and noticed her father's coy expression. "Okay, what have you done, Dad?"

  "I was looking through the club's register a few weeks ago and noticed William Usborne Senior was a member. I introduced myself and let the old guy beat me at cribbage. Since then we've become quite good friends. He plays lousy cards, though."

  "Dad," Renee sputtered. "What did you say?"

  "Not a lot. I merely mentioned I was thinking of transferring all my legal affairs to his firm because my daughter worked there. Later I added I'd changed my mind, since she was going to leave because she was under utilized. It was a pity their firm would lose someone of your high qualifications and…"

  "Dad!"

  "Come now, Renee." Jack turned serious. "There's little I can do for you now. Let your old Dad help you this way."

  "Oh Dad, you are the limit."

  The young lawyer reached over and hugged her father. He held her with his one good arm. "Your mom would have been proud of you, Sweetheart," he whispered. "I am too, so don't you let those young upstarts grind you down. It will come right, I assure you."

  Renee gulped. Her father still talked of her mother even though she'd died a decade earlier. "Thanks, Dad."

  ****

  "So that's really it," Renee said to her two companions.

  "And you're still with the firm?" Lem asked.

  "Yes." Renee sighed. "Mind you, Old William decided not to retire and makes the place bearable. Also, I'm doing some court work now, mainly civil cases."

  "And the brother who made that pass at you?" Courtney cut in.

  "He's still there but leaves me alone. The last I heard he was having a fling with one of the secretaries. I feel sorry for his wife. She's quiet and unassuming."

  "And your dad?" Lem asked.

  "He's at home," Renee said. "Poor Dad. He was such an active person. I think he's lonely." She glanced up. "He's the reason I'm here. During my annual leave, I decided to potter around the farm but Dad insisted I have a real holiday, as he called it. So here I am, lying in a cave hundreds of feet under a mountain with a busted ankle. I must say that I enjoy the company. It's strange but I feel as if I've known you both for years, not just a few hours."

  "Emergencies can do that," Lem said. "I feel the same."

  "Time is funny," Courtney whispered. She stood and brushed her dusty clothes off. "My God, I'm getting all sentimental now. The cave must be getting to me."

  "Probably." Renee caught Lem's eyes and smiled.

  ****

  Their meal was sparse but nobody complained. Even worse was the dwindling supply of water. They would run out within a day so decisions had to be made. Courtney was all for trying to find a way out but her spontaneity diminished when Lem asked what direction they should take. They were in the center of a huge area with little or no distinguishing features. The slip that appeared as a blot of blackness without glowworms was their only link with the outside world.

  "What do we do?" Courtney asked pessimistically. "Nobody is coming now. If they were, they'd be here. It's up to us."

  "You two go," Renee said. "There might be a way out. If you find it, you can send someone back for me."

  "No," Lem replied. "If we go, we all go."

  Courtney stared at Lem, then Renee. "Funny, I thought you might say that."

  "Don't you agree?" Lem replied.

  The teenager rubbed a hand along her face and sighed. "In the last few months I trusted nobody. Nobody cared about me. I was one of a hundred. If I walked away, someone would jump into the space I left but here…" She gave a tiny smile. "Let's say, I wouldn't want to be the person all alone down here and I don't think Renee should be left either."

  "Thanks Courtney," Renee said. "If it wasn't for my ankle, I'd be the first one walking out."

  "So we wait a little longer." Lem said.

  "How about morning?" Courtney suggested. "If nobody is here by nine, we hitch Renee on our backs and walk out. Okay?"

  Lem glanced at Renee. She nodded.

  "Okay," he said and glanced at his watch. It was after seven in the evening.

  ****

  CHAPTER 4

  Five serious-faced spelunkers made their way out from Misty Depths Catacombs after a four-hour expedition. They plodded through the small crowd of bystanders, past a row of parked four-wheel drive vehicles along to where two tents had been erected in a small forest clearing.

  "The whole of level F beyond grid reference three has gone." The leader, an elderly Native American man, reported to state trooper Gary McKnight at the smaller tent.

  "Is it hopeless, Chuck?"

  Chuck Nguyen frowned. "I don't think so. The two levels we explored have dropped away. Level G is impassable but it was only a narrow access route."

  "Meaning?" the sergeant asked.

  "Well, Gary. Too much soil between the levels has disappeared. If it had stopped at level G, it would have backed right through F and even E but didn't. There's a massive hole down as far as G."

  "So where did it go?"

  "My guess is that there's another cavern further down. It would have to be big to take the whole landslide. Now, if that is the case there could be extra space as well."

  "So there could be survivors?"

  "Exactly but we won't reach them from here." Chuck walked to a cross section map of the cave unrolled on a table. He pointed to the bottom of the map. "That's where it has all gone. Now if you place this beneath the topographical map..." He rolled the sheet aside to expose a second map. "The slip is under Eagle Point Plateau."

  "It would be a long way down, Chuck," one forest ranger said.

  "Yeah but the quickest way in is straight down. We need to get one of those drilling rigs."

  "Right. I'll see what I can do." Gary McKnight respected the old man's knowledge and would lay pretty good odds that he was dead accurate in his suggestions.

  ****

  "Excuse me, Sergeant."

  McKnight looked up to see a young national park ranger standing at the tent flap. "Yes, Stephanie."

  "There's an old guy out here who says he's the father of one of the missing women. He's distressed and wants to talk to you," Stephanie Jelgersma replied.

  "What's his name?"

  "Bonnett. Jack Bonnett. Poor guy is half paralyzed. His daughter, Renee, is one of the four missing." She grimaced. "I tried to put him off."

  Gary was about to say he was too busy but saw Stephanie's face. "Okay. Give me ten minutes to get my calls through, then show him in."

  ****

  "So what are my daughter's chances, Sergeant?" Jack's chin quivered with emotion.

  "Better than I would have thought an hour ago, Mr Bonnett. There's a massive cavern beneath the explored passages. Your daughter and the others could very well be down there."

  "And how do we find out, sergeant?" Jack leaned his
dominant arm on the small table.

  "The military have satellite images available and are getting a computer enhanced readout produced."

  "Image," muttered Jack. "What good will that do?"

  "The satellite takes infrared readings, so a large cavity beneath the present cave would show. We can compare the latest readings with those taken before the landslide. We can pinpoint the size and position of any cavity there."

  "So if we find this new cavern, how does it help?"

  "We're bringing in a bore to drill. When it reaches a cavity we can listen for sounds of survivors or lower a speaker. If we find survivors, we can send water, food and medical supplies down."

  "But getting them out? They can't climb up a six-inch hole."

  "We'll go in through the existing caves. The computer readouts may find a natural entrance to the lower cavity. We'll find them, Mr. Bonnett."

  "Dead or alive," Jack whispered.

  "Yes," the sergeant replied with empathy. "There's nothing more you can do. Why don't you go to the other tent? A canteen has been set up and you're welcome to a hot drink. As soon as information comes through we'll tell you."

  "Thank you, Sergeant," Jack turned, leaned on a walking stick, swung his malfunctioning limb in front of him and limped out.

  "Poor guy looks heartbroken," Stephanie commented when Jack was out of earshot.

  ****

  Renee's eyes were showing a vision of red. She knew she'd been asleep but this wasn't a dream. She forced her eyes open and gasped. A dazzling light filled the cave.

  Courtney screamed in excitement.

  Lem heaved a sigh of gratitude and gently shook her shoulder.

  "They've found us, Renee. That was a flare."

  Seconds later, darkness returned. No, it wasn't completely dark. The glowworms had switched off but way in the distance was a twisting spiral of white. When the second flare burnt out, their world became black, pitch black.

  "We're here!" shrieked Courtney. Her voice reached a high crescendo that echoed through the cavern.

  "Nobody will hear you," Lem warned. "That flare came from well above us."

  But he was wrong. As soon as her screams echoed it was replaced by a sound.