Outcast (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 2) (14 page)

“And leave you on your own?”
Not a chance
. “Dane, get out of the way, buddy. Let me at least check this thing for visible cracks.”

“That’s the spirit.” Dane was practically jubilant. If he had to guess, Jasper figured the old dude was far more excited by the prospect of some vast treasure vault than finding his friend.

Jasper took his time inspecting the probably WWII era craft. It seemed solid, but who knew? There could be rapids ahead. One sharp rock could be all it took to kill. During his time as a SEAL, he’d spent plenty of time in cold water, but with proper gear. The three of them didn’t have shit. A couple of headlamps that could be picked up for a ten-dollar bill at any sporting goods store and a raft that may or may not keep them dry.

He tossed three life jackets onto the rear bench.

“What’s the verdict?” Eden asked.

“Help me get it into the water. Let’s at least see if it floats before we get in.”

The rubber was a thick as the swastika on the far side was creepy. No matter how compelling the end result might be of possibly reuniting Eden with her dad, this was a seriously bad idea.

“It floats.” Dane actually clapped.

Lord
. . .

“Looks like we have our answer,” Eden redirected her headlamp onto the raft. “Full speed ahead.” Before Jasper could stop her, she tossed her pack into the craft, then placed Yeti on the middle seat before climbing in beside him.

“Any sign of it taking on water?” Jasper asked.

“Nope.”

He held the craft by an old school jute rope that had seen way better days. “Let me at least change out the guide rope. If we need to tie it off with this crap, it’ll never hold.” The raft had three wooden seats and a plywood floor—at least it looked like painted plywood. Had they even made it back then? History hadn’t been his best subject.

He finished the task sooner than he’d liked. He’d hoped for a miracle to avoid this trip into inky black, but none came.

Dane climbed aboard. “This sure beats walking.”

“I’d hold your judgement till we survive the next ten minutes. Dane, do me a favor and keep your light focused on the floor. If you see so much as a drop of water, let me know.”

“Sure thing.” He used his coat sleeve to brush dust from the seat before sitting.

Jasper shook his head. The guy was a cornball, but he was growing on him.

“Hold on,” Jasper coiled the rope in his left hand, then grabbed hold of the raft with his right. He’d performed the maneuver of shoving off with one foot on shore too many times to count, yet this time was the most disconcerting. Never had he had more at stake.

He used an oar to help steer them into the middle of the channel, but the current pretty much took them where it wanted them to go. The humidity made the air dank. Somehow it felt colder than while trudging through wind and snow. This was the kind of cold that sunk deep into his marrow. Never had he wished more to be on his dream beach in the Bahamas.

Yet oddly enough, the deeper they traveled, the warmer it grew.

Parkas were removed and stowed under the bench seats. The raft’s floor was thankfully still dry.

“Anyone else hungry?” Jasper asked.

“You’re not suggesting we stop for a full meal?” Dane asked.

Eden pulled a protein bar from her pack, passing it back to him. “Will this hold you over until—” She screamed.

He followed her light’s direction to see a skeleton propped against a wall. Poor bastard was garbed in full Nazi gear from his crooked hat to dusty black boots.

“How do you think he got here?” Eden asked.

“Maybe he fell off a raft?” Jasper unwrapped the bar, eating half in one bite. “Lost his bearings and with no light, just sat down to die.”

She shuddered.

A faint roar made Jasper freeze mid-chew.

Dane looked back. “Is that grumbling rapids up ahead?”

“That would be my guess. Put these on.” Jasper tossed Eden and Dane life jackets before strapping one on himself.

A few minutes later, the craft bobbed and shuddered through a downhill chute that left them and their gear soaked.

Yeti howled.

Jasper did his best to avoid a collision, but with boulders the size of Volkswagens, it was inevitable. “Brace yourselves!”

Water cold enough to be liquid ice surged over the low sides, swirling around their feet.

Yeti leapt to Eden’s neck.

She cried out from the scratch of his claws. Blood dripped down her back, but she held tight to the little menace.

Dane made the sign of the cross on his chest.

Jasper gritted his teeth. His muscles screamed from the water’s force against the ancient wooden paddle. It snapped. And then they were at the water’s mercy.

After each surge upward, they crashed down hard. Water cascaded over them, soaking them head-to-toe.

Jasper had been in some bad spots, but this was looking seriously dicey.

Just when he thought their situation couldn’t get worse, the water ran even faster. Up ahead, the ceiling height dropped to a mere couple feet of clearance.

“Get down!” he shouted just before the raft’s fragile rubber wall ripped against the rock wall.

12

EDEN SQUEEZED HER eyes shut tight—not that it mattered. She hadn’t crouched fast enough to stop her headlamp from smashing against the low rock ceiling. She assumed Dane and Jasper’s lights had been hit, too, as their world had gone dark.

Terror welled deep inside her.

The water in the boat now swirled around her knees. It had long since crowned her boots, and the icy liquid numbed her toes.

Was this it? How they would die? All alone in a black tomb.

She’d been consumed by her cancer, but she wouldn’t even have that long to live. She regretted not telling Jasper how much she loved him—for she did. All of this was her fault. Everything. Start to finish. If she hadn’t called him, he never would have charged to her rescue.

“Everyone all right?” he called, dowsing them in the glow of his back-up penlight.

“I-I think so.” She hugged the drenched cat.

“Yes,” Dane said. “Are we sinking?”

“It would appear so,” Jasper said. “Anyone have anything they could use to bail?” The current had slowed, but they were in a low tube with no way of escaping other than to ride it out—assuming there even was an
out
.

Eden tried keeping panic at bay, but with the water now lapping at her thighs, she didn’t have much luck.

“Am I hallucinating?” Dane asked. “Or is that light up ahead?”

“This place just keeps getting weirder . . .” Jasper slowly exhaled. “Everyone hold on for a few more minutes. I think that’s a freakin’ dock.”

The river floated them out of the closed space and into a dimly lit vaulted chamber. Utilitarian wall sconces had been fitted into the rock, and a concrete landing jutted out to greet them.

“How is this possible?” Eden asked, forgetting how cold she was to gape at the domed ceiling. Stalagmites and stalactites and thousands of spindly soda straws vied for top billing in a bragging show of Mother Nature’s handiwork when left on her own for thousands of years.

“Geothermal power,” Dane said. “It’s the only way these lights are possible. I’ve long heard rumors, but to see that the Germans actually did it? And that the power is still working. I’m in awe. Your father must at least replace bulbs.”

“I’m starting to think he really is here.” Hope coursed through her, warming limbs that had gone numb.

Jasper tossed a rope lasso around a piling, pulling them in.

Yeti was the first to leap for dry ground.

Dane followed, holding out his hand to help Eden and then Jasper from the raft.

It took all three of them to drag the raft from the water onto the cave floor. The small bit of remaining air seeped out as the hull deflated.

Six rafts stood in a row as they had at the previous stop in this otherworldly labyrinth. Was Dane right? Was this an escape route? Would the river take them further to safety? Or deeper underground?

“Let’s set up a camp and dry out.” Jasper hefted his pack to higher ground. “We’ll eat, rest up, then start fresh in a few hours.”

“No,” Eden and Dane said in unison.

Eden talked over him, “If my dad is here, I need to find him. He could be hurt.”

“Judging by the looks of this place,” Jasper said, taking it all in, “he’s done far better for himself than we have. Think logically, Eden. We need to at least change into dry clothes before hypothermia sets in.”

“Okay,” she said, “but then we go.”

Arms crossed, he nodded.

She retreated to a dim corner to peel off her unwieldly wet boots, bib overalls and socks to change into dry jeans, socks and sneakers. She felt funny about stripping even to her panties in front of Dane. What had her even more flustered was the sight of Jasper’s muscular thighs. A flash of his abs warmed her more effectively than a crackling fire.

“Like what you see?” He winked.

Mouth dry, she hastily looked away.

What was wrong with her? It wasn’t as if they hadn’t spent entire weekends in bed. They’d explored each other’s bodies at leisure. But now, everything had changed. The chemistry between them seemed supercharged and new. What would it be like to be with him again? Would she ever have the chance?

“Ready?” Dane asked. “I’m anxious to get started.”

“Let’s all have a couple protein bars and some water,” Jasper suggested. “I can’t imagine what’s waiting beyond that door.”

They all looked to the rusty steel barrier.

Anticipation bubbled in her chest. As hopeful as she was to find her father, she was also enthralled by their accidental discovery of a secret place time had forgotten.

After eating, they voted to leave their bulky cold-weather gear hanging over an iron rail to hopefully dry. Yes, they were taking a chance in not having it. But wet, the garments would be useless even if needed.

“Who wants to do the honors?” Dane asked with a broad smile, giving the door a Vanna White flourish.

“Go for it,” Jasper said.

Dane gave the thick, iron handle a tug. It didn’t budge. Reddening, he said, “I suppose I could use a hand.”

Jasper stepped in to help. Together, they opened the door with a rusty-hinged creak that echoed through the chamber.

What they found was another tunnel lit by hanging strands of mostly burned out bulbs.

After fifty yards, it branched into another—only with two choices of direction, and even more dead bulbs.

At the next junction, they had three choices. It had grown dark enough for Jasper to turn on his penlight.

“This is a disaster,” Dane said. “At this rate, we’ll never find the treasure.”

“You mean my father?” Eden was more than a little put out that his priorities seemed skewed.

“Yes. Of course.” He at least had the good graces to redden.

Yeti stopped in the middle of the trail for a tongue bath.

While Jasper fished through his pack for a tool sharp enough to scrape the rock wall, Eden clasped her locket for the usual comfort it provided, only to get a shock. “Um, guys . . .” Hoping this wasn’t a case of her imagination working overtime, she fumbled with the chain’s clasp, taking it off to check for herself if what she thought was happening, really was. “Look at this. My locket is suddenly hot—and the amethyst’s glowing.”

Dane took one look, and clutched the wall for support when his knees buckled. “Do you know why that locket cost your father such an obscene amount of money? It’s not merely a locket, but a map. Maybe even a key. See the pattern of the tree’s roots? Do they seem familiar?”

“Jasper check it out,” she passed it to him. “Dane’s right. I never noticed, but the roots are fanning out like a maze of trails. Only one path leads to the stone. We must be close, or it wouldn’t be glowing.”

“
How
is it glowing?” He turned it over and over again, then opened it for a look inside. “I don’t get it. How can something this small have such a complex mechanism inside?”