The temperature inside was much cooler than in the main cavern. She shivered and wished for a sweater.
Go back. You’re not prepared for spelunking
.
She didn’t know what compelled her to keep moving forward, but she did. Traveling at least a quarter of a mile, maybe farther. Maybe having been with Dade had made her unafraid to take chances. Nothing could hurt as much as his abandonment, right?
It’s great news that you’re ready to grab life by the throat and all that, but there’s daring and then there’s stupid. Turn back.
But still, she kept going until she came to the end of the line where the rocky ledge played out. Game over. Head back.
She turned.
“Natalie!”
The sound of Dade’s voice rushed over her like a soothing balm on a hot sunburn, and it stopped her in her tracks. Had she really heard him call to her or was it her imagination?
“Dade?”
“Down here, Natalie. Be careful. That ledge is precarious.”
Tentatively, she shone the light over the edge of the ledge. Fourteen feet below her lay a body. She gasped, focused the light beam on the still form.
It was Red. He was motionless on his back with his eyes closed, and from this distance, she couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. His face was deadly pale and his right leg was at an odd angle. Clearly broken. Her own right leg twinged in empathy and her chest tightened.
“Dade? Where are you?”
“To your left.”
She shone the light to the left and found him about six feet from Red’s still form. He was propped up against the cave wall, surrounded by massive stalagmites. It was a miracle he hadn’t been impaled in his fall from the ledge, because obviously that was what had happened. He’d fallen off the ledge while searching for Red. His face was etched with pain.
Her heart leaped into her throat. He hadn’t run out on her! But he
was
in deep trouble. “What’s happened?”
“Dislocated shoulder. I’ll live.” He quirked a wry grin. “Now that you’re here.”
“I’m going to toss my tote bag down to you. It’s got water in it and two PowerBars.”
“Thanks,” he said gratefully, his voice raw and raspy.
She pitched the tote down, aiming to get as close to him as possible. It landed at his feet. He had to lean for it and he cried out in pain.
Natalie slapped a palm over her mouth. His pain was a knife to her gut.
He grimaced, but managed to snag the tote bag. He had to lean back against the wall and rest for a minute.
It was so hard having to stand here and watch him suffer, to be unable to go to him. Her arms ached to hold him.
“How did you find us?” he asked.
“There was an opening in the cave wall. I followed the passageway and it led me here, but I had no idea you were down here. I was just exploring.”
“The secret door was left open? Did you find the room?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see the fake IDs?”
“What? No. The room was completely empty.”
“They’ve cleared out their equipment.”
“What equipment?”
“Is it the Fourth of July?”
“Yes.”
“The cavern is closed on holidays. How did you get in?”
“I’m a Greenwood direct descendent. The cave is on family land. I have a key.”
“Do you keep your key where Lars could have access to it and make copies of it for himself?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I keep it in the front desk and sometimes Lars watches the desk for me, but I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“They must have been waiting for the holiday so that they could move their operation without interruption.”
“I’m confused. Who are you talking about?”
Dade told her a story then that she could scarcely believe about Lars and Gizmo and high-quality identification forgery. Was it true? Or was his thinking skewered from being in a cave for three days with a dislocated shoulder?
“Are you sure?” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Lars and Gizmo involved in counterfeiting?”
“Lars pulled a gun on me and Gizmo Tasered me and they did that to Red.” Dade motioned in the direction where his buddy lay.
Natalie put a hand to her forehead. “I can’t wrap my mind around this.”
“How is Red?” he asked.
She shone her light in Red’s direction again. He still hadn’t moved. “He looks bad. I’m going for help.”
“Be very careful, Natalie. I’m not kidding when I say Bakke and Gizmo are armed and dangerous.”
M
oving as fast as she dared, Natalie went back the way she’d come.
It seemed as if she’d been walking for days. Natalie’s leg hurt up into her hip from maneuvering the rough terrain. She was cold and damp and her head ached. Every step was torture as her mind kept stirring up terrible possibilities for what lay both ahead and behind her.
Natalie gritted her teeth.
Keep moving.
It was the only option. She had to get help. And what would happen if she got back to the room and found Lars or Gizmo waiting with a gun?
But there’s no way they could know she was in the caverns. Junie Mae had brought her here, so she’d left no vehicle in the parking lot to give her away, and her neighbor was the only one who knew she was at the caverns. Still, even if they didn’t have a gun on them and they caught her coming out of the cave, they would know something was up.
Don’t let them catch you coming out of the cave.
She had tried to call Calvin on her cell phone and tell him what was going down, but she couldn’t get any reception this deep inside the cave.
How far
had
she walked? Shouldn’t she be getting close now?
She stopped a moment to rest, leaned her back against the wall, and ran a hand down her leg. The flashlight battery was growing dim so she switched it off and tucked it into her pocket. It was so dark without the flashlight beam to guide her. So very dark and lonely.
To comfort herself, she thought of Dade. He had not run out on her after they’d made love. She couldn’t wait for him to hold her in his arms again.
Get a move on. The sooner you get out of here, the sooner that will happen.
She pushed off from the wall, debating whether to walk in the darkness for a while and save the flashlight battery or turn it on again, when she heard muted voices.
Her heart somersaulted into her throat. She recognized the voices as belonging Lars and Gizmo. They were close. She must be near the second door of the secret room.
Panic spread through her, wildfire quick. What to do? Go back and wait for them to leave?
The stupid, trusting part of her balked. Even though Dade had told her what Lars and Gizmo were involved in, she found it difficult to accept. These two men had lived in her home. How could they want to harm her? Maybe she could reason with them.
Don’t be naive, Natalie. For godsakes, listen to Dade. He knows what he’s talking about.
Pulse racing, she turned to go back the way she came, but she couldn’t move quickly in the dark and she was too afraid to turn the flashlight back on in case they saw the beam.
They were arguing now, their voices angry, but the cave warped the sound and she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She kept moving away from them, trying to be as quiet as possible.
She heard a clanging sound and more arguing. Her fist knotted around the flashlight and she forced herself not to turn it back on. Her breath slipped shallowly over her lips. There was a strange scent in the air. Stranger than the normal musty cave smell. Her nostrils twitched.
Lars and Gizmo were making more noises, banging things around. What were they doing?
Then all at once there was complete quiet.
She stopped walking. Held her breath. Strained to hear something. Nothing.
But instead of putting her at ease, their sudden silence bothered her even more than the noise had.
One minute passed. Nothing. Then two minutes. Three.
The hairs on the back of her neck lifted and the most ominous feeling passed through her.
And then came the explosion.
Love can bridge any gulf.
—MILLIE GREENWOOD
T
he blast shook the cave. The force knocked Dade from his sitting position against the wall. Rubble rained around him and dirt filled his mouth.
In utter shock, he let out a terse curse as his mind scrambled to deduce what had happened. Whatever explosive had caused the detonation had to be something fairly small or it would have brought the whole cave down. From the sound of it, maybe a quarter of a stick of dynamite or even just a blasting cap. Just enough of a blast to seal off the back caves behind the secret room, but not enough to destroy the entire caverns.
It hit him then, exactly what was going on. That son of a bitch Bakke had set off a detonation to cause a cave-in, entombing inside the two people who could send him to prison on forgery or counterfeiting charges. Two loners without family who would never really be missed.
Natalie!
Dear God, where was Natalie?
His blood ran cold. Where was she? Had she interrupted Bakke’s explosion? Had he killed her too? Maybe she’d gotten out. He clung to the hope. Prayed she’d gotten out alive before Bakke and Gizmo had come back to cause the cave-in.
“What the fuck was that?” Red croaked.
“Bakke,” Dade said. “He’s making sure we don’t get out.”
Fresh worries washed over him. What if Natalie had been hurt by the blast? If she was still in the cave at the time of the explosion, she would be much closer to the source of the blast than he and Red were. She might even be dead.
Dade clamped his teeth together. No. He refused to think like that. He had to get out of here. Had to go after her. He tried to stand but the pain in his shoulder knocked him to his knees. Waves of nausea washed over him. Dade whistled in air through convulsing lungs.
He tried to stand again.
An aftershock ran through the cave. More rubble fell. Something hit him on the head, and that was the last thing Dade knew.
C
onsciousness returned to Natalie in degrees.
First, it felt as if she were swimming up from a dark pool, air-hungry and desperate. Hours later, her eyes popped open and she stared into total darkness.
“Dade,” she whispered, and fell into the fog again.
Finally, the incessant ringing in her ears roused her enough to sit up and rest her spinning head in her hands.
An explosion. There’d been an explosion. Had Lars and Gizmo set it off?
Impossible.
This had to be some kind of horrible dream.
Natalie groaned. No dream. The dirt in her mouth and nose certified it.
With shaky hands she groped around for the flashlight and flicked on the thin, fading beam of light and saw to her horror that her escape route was completely blocked by boulders humped up like camel backs.
There was no way out. Absolutely none.
As she studied the massive pile of rocks going all the way to the ceiling of the cave, that last gasp of light winked out, plunging her into inky blackness.
She shook the flashlight. Heard the battery rattle. Clicked the switch off and on. Nothing.
This was it. They were all done for. She and Dade and Red. Bested by a senior citizen and a computer geek. It was all over. They would never get out of here.
She wondered how long it would take to die of starvation and dehydration. Apparently, Red had somehow managed to stay alive for two weeks, but he was an ex–Navy SEAL. He had survival skills. He could last longer than most people. If she was lucky, it would take her less time to die.
Lovely thought.
Way out. She needed a way out.
Options. What were her options? She could go back to where Red and Dade were.
In the dark? Risk falling to her death?
Either way, she was dead. What did the method matter? Or she could sit here and wait for rescue. Someone would have surely heard the explosion. People would be here soon. Emergency workers. Volunteers. The smart thing to do was stay put.
But what if help didn’t arrive immediately? People were out at the lake, celebrating the Fourth, shooting off fireworks. If it was indeed still the Fourth. She had no idea how much time had passed.
Junie Mae knew she was here. Someone
would
come looking. The whole town of Cupid would come looking. That’s what her community did. Rally about one another. She held on to that knowledge. They would be rescued.
But in time to save Red’s life? The man was hanging on by a strand as thin as a spider’s silk. He might already be dead.
Natalie brought her knees to her chest and rested her head on her knees. The muscles in her right leg jumped and twitched involuntarily.
Rest.
She needed to rest. Regroup. Think this through.
She wished she had a bottle of water. Wished she had a PowerBar. While she was wishing, why not wish for a T-bone steak and an appletini? Why not wish for her pillow-top mattress and goose-down pillow?
None of those things was going to come true so she might as well wish for the stars. Why not wish that Dade would tell her that he loved her? Why not wish that he wasn’t terrified of loving her the way she loved him? Why not wish for an elaborate wedding held in the botanical gardens beside the Cupid statue? Why not wish for three children, all of whom had Dade’s dark good looks? Why not wish for the world?
Pity isn’t going to solve your problem.
Right. Suck it up.
Except when she tried to stand, her leg was so exhausted she could barely lever herself up. She’d pushed herself to her limits. Like it or not, she was going to have to rest.
S
ometime later, Natalie awakened again.
The tiny stream of light drilling down though the top of the cave shone a small spotlight on her lap.
Joyously, she turned her face upward. There was a way out!
Except the cave ceiling was a good fifteen feet above her. Cool air blew against her face. Her throat was parched, her leg numb from being curled up underneath her. Getting to the ceiling meant scaling fifteen feet of unstable boulders.
With a bum leg.
With a deep-seated fear of heights.
Suddenly, her salvation seemed like utter damnation. It might as well be Everest. Dread lodged in her throat. She had no alternative. She had to face her greatest fear. She had to climb that mountain.
“Sir Edmund Hillary,” she muttered. “Here I come.”
Natalie stumbled to her feet, shaking her numb leg to get the pins and needles out. Slowly it came to life, tingling painfully. She tried to put her weight on the leg, but her knee gave way and she fell forward.
She thrust out her hands to catch herself, her palms ramming into sharp rock points.
Ow, ow.
Her left palm was bleeding, lacerated. Not seriously, but painful, messy. Resolutely, she wiped her palm against the side of her jeans and glanced up at the pile of rocks again.
C’mon. You can do this. You dragged yourself down a mountain with a broken leg at nine years old, how hard can it be to drag yourself up one?
Hard as hell.
Her leg was finally coming around. She tested it again and it held her weight.
Just think, in a few minutes you could be out of here and going for help. Keep your eye on the prize.
Dust motes danced in the pencil-thin light shining down on her. It had to be late morning. She had only a few hours before the sun moved down the horizon and she lost the light.
Get moving.
She obeyed, going along to the far side of the boulder pile that seemed to offer the easiest path up. Carefully, she positioned her feet, hiked her right leg up, and dragged it over a bottom boulder. The stretch was almost more than she could handle, and when she pushed off with her left foot, she sent herself falling over the boulder. She lay there a moment, stunned at how difficult that had been, and it was only the first step.
Keep going.
She pulled herself up, found a handhold in the rock above, and took another step.
The stones were slick and smooth. It would be so easy to lose her balance.
She cast a terrified glance down. It was only a foot but it felt like a mile. She gritted her teeth.
Don’t look down.
She took another step and another. By the time she was halfway up the pile, her arms were trembling so bad that she had to stop and catch her breath.
Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down.
She looked down.
Big mistake.
The floor of the cave yawned below her, big and dark and deadly.
A crushing sensation pressed in on her chest, squashed her lungs. She curled her fingers around the rock she clutched, frozen by fear. She hung there for the longest time, stymied by fear. She could not move forward, could not slide back. She was stuck.
A metaphor for her life. She smiled. What a stupid time to get amused by her predicament. But it was true. Her fear had kept her stuck. She had been too afraid to dare to dream. She’d taken the safe path. Done what was expected. She’d been admired for it, lauded for it, but deep down, she’d been disappointed in herself.
Now was the time to get over that fear. It was here. It was real.
Move forward. Prove you’re not stuck. Prove you can take charge of your life. Face your fears. You are in control of your destiny, Natalie. Nothing can hold you back.
Emboldened by that pep talk, she tightened her jaw, let go of the rock with one hand, and reached higher. Taking the risk. Taking the gamble.
What if you get to the top and you can’t dig your way out of the cave? What then?
She cringed. She couldn’t think about that now. It was all she could do to scale this damn pile of rocks.
The thin beam of sunlight was waning. She had to hurry.
C’mon, c’mon. You can do this. For Red. For Dade. For yourself.
One hand followed the other. She pulled up her right leg. The damn thing had held her back so many times. Her wound was at the root of her fear. She refused to let it pull her down.
With a heavy grunt, she moved her leg to the next boulder.
The rock pile wavered.
Natalie gasped, paused.
Please don’t fall.
The rock stabilized.
She tried again, skimming quickly over one unstable rock to the next one. She was higher now than she’d ever been since the accident, a good ten feet off the ground. Halfway. She was halfway to the light.
Keep moving.
Her arms were trembling. Her leg was heavy. Her stomach was queasy, but her resolve was strong. Dade. She was doing this for Dade. He was counting on her and she would not let him down.
Dizziness gripped her. If she fell now, she’d be dead.
You won’t fall. You can’t fall. You are strong. You will make it.
Another step and then another. Her fingers clawed at the rocks. She broke nail after nail, didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to the top before the light vanished.
An hour passed.
Two.
Her toil continued. Slowly, methodically. Every time a fresh fear surfaced, she’d tamp it down by remembering Dade’s face. He needed her. Red needed her. She had to do this.
On and on she climbed.
When pebbles skittered beneath her feet and dropped to the ground, she would stop, wipe the sweat from her brow, and keep going. She felt like an ant pushing a rubber tree plant. She had high hopes. Rescue.
Finally, the impossible happened, and she reached the pinnacle.
She paused to haul in hungry gasps of air. She rested her head on the top rock. Pressed her lips to it. Success. After all she’d been through. She’d faced her greatest fear and won.
But the victory was short-lived.
Now came the hard part. Balancing on the top boulder, which was about the size of a hassock, while investigating the crack in the ceiling.
She inhaled sharply, glanced down.
Blackness lay below. The rocks were nothing but dark humps in the shadows. Cold, hard stone awaited her if she fell.
Turning her face toward the diminishing light, she reached out a hand, touched the cave ceiling, and rejoiced. It wasn’t stone but earth as she hoped. The outside world was only a few inches of dirt away.
She poked at the ceiling with a finger. Dirt shifted in on her, filled her mouth. She spat, winced. Ugh. Dug in with all five fingers of her right hand while her left hand held steady to the last boulder, her feet positioned in a wide stance.
Her fingers widened the hole, and hope soared.
Greedily, she grabbed for another handful, digging the dirt, dropping it to the floor, hearing it spatter. There was grass now. Handfuls of it. Faster and faster, she snatched handfuls of earth and dried grass. More dirt fell in her face, burned her eyes. She spat again, swiped at her face, closed her eyes, and kept digging.
She went back for another handful, her fist broke through, and she felt warm air and sun on her fingers. Blinking, she opened her eyes. She’d made a hole the size of a saucer. She arched her back, reaching for another handful of dirt to widen the opening.
Big mistake.
Her right leg slipped from its toehold and she hung suspended. Her left arm and left leg clinging to the rock, her right arm and right leg swinging in mid-air.
She threw down the dirt, scrambled to find something to grab on to with her right arm, found a spot.
Gravity tugged at her.
She wobbled. Her blood stampeded through her veins, pounded in her ears.
No! She would not lose this battle. She would not fall!
She wobbled, hanging twenty feet above the cave floor. Inches from freedom.
Can’t fall. Won’t fall.
She hung, swung, unable to move. Her limbs were exhausted. She was tapped out. This was how it was going to end. The story of Natalie McCleary over in a mere twenty-nine years.
Turn out the lights, the party’s over.
And then she heard a voice, far away, but familiar.
“Natalie!”
“Mommy?” she mumbled. “Mommy, is that you?”