by Damien Boyd
Then Dixon’s legs were flailing.
‘Sorry, I forgot: it’s a twenty-foot ladder,’ said Kandes, the sound of his laughter echoing around the chamber.
Dixon froze and waited until the ladder stopped swinging. Then he began climbing down hand over hand. Once dangling from the bottom rung by his right hand, he looked down and caught a glimpse of the gravel stream bed a few feet to his left in the light from Kandes’s headlamp. Directly below him were rocks. He started to swing slowly, letting go when he was over the gravel and landing heavily in a heap in the shallow water.
‘Well done,’ said Kandes.
‘What now?’
‘You die. It won’t take long. It’ll look like you came down here with the wrong ladder, fell and died of hypothermia. Another tragic accident. Could be months too before the cave opens and they find you.’
‘What about a torch?’ asked Dixon.
‘Good point,’ replied Kandes. He switched off both his headlamp and the handheld torch.
‘Ready?’
Then he dropped the torch over the edge.
‘Oh, you missed it,’ he said as the sound of breaking glass echoed around the chamber.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The back door of the hut swung open, a shaft of light illuminating the snow falling on the path and the sheds along the drystone wall. Jane looked in the rearview mirror and gasped. Mesmerised, she watched Dixon step out into the night with his hands on his head.
Oh shit.
She threw herself across the driver’s seat and listened for voices. Not easy over the noise of Monty barking and scrabbling at the back door of the Land Rover.
Craning her neck, she watched in the wing mirror as Dixon walked down the path towards the drystone wall at the bottom of the garden, a man behind him carrying a torch in one hand and a gun in the other, another lamp mounted on his helmet.
She reached into the back of the Land Rover, pulled her wellington boots out from under the bench seat and put them on. Then she took the torch from the glove box, slid across to the driver’s seat and opened the door. She climbed down from the Land Rover and closed the door behind her, leaning against it just as Dixon had done only a few minutes earlier.
Click.
She locked it and followed Dixon’s footsteps across the car park to the back door of the hut, careful to place her feet in his footprints. She tried the door. Locked.
The two lights were just visible through the snow and appeared to be climbing up and over a drystone wall in the distance. Jane ducked down behind the sheds and dialled 999.
‘This is 3242 Detective Sergeant Jane Winter. I’m at the Wessex Cave Club hut east of Priddy. I need backup and Armed Response. Is that clear?’
‘Er, yes, Sarge.’
‘Detective Inspector Dixon has been taken hostage and is being led at gunpoint across the fields west towards Priddy.’
‘Stand by,’ replied the controller.
Jane waited.
‘Armed Response are on the way, but the helicopter’s grounded by the weather.’
‘How long?’
‘Twenty-five minutes.’
Shit.
Jane rang off. Then she climbed over the wall at the bottom of the garden and started following the footprints in the snow. She held her torch low to the ground and switched it off as she arrived at the first drystone wall, peering over it into the darkness. A faint glow was visible in the distance and then it disappeared.
She jumped over the wall and started running along the line of tracks in the snow, over the next drystone wall, sharp right turn and then over another. Now she was looking into the bottom of a dark hollow along the base of some woods on her left. A spooky place at the best of times.
She could just make out a light in the distance before it went out.
Where the hell are they going?
She ran along the bottom of the hollow until the tracks stopped abruptly, and turned down a steep path towards a small grey stone building the size of telephone box. A stream disappeared under the tree roots at the side.
It’s a cave. A fucking cave.
She crept down to the entrance and read the sign nailed to the stonework outside.
‘Swildon’s Hole. In case of emergency, dial 999 and ask for Cave Rescue.’
No shit.
No signal. She ran back to the drystone wall and stood on top of it, waving her phone in the air above her head. Two bars. That would do. Then she dialled 999 again.
‘This is 3242 Detective Sergeant Winter. DI Dixon has been taken down Swildon’s Hole at gunpoint. Is that clear?’
‘Understood.’
‘We’ll need Cave Resc—’
‘Stand by.’
Come on!
‘Under no circumstances should you foll—’
Jane rang off and ran back to the cave entrance. Why did it have to be a cave? She stopped and retched into the undergrowth.
Nice and quiet, easy does it.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she peered into the hole in the concrete floor of the blockhouse, the sound of running water echoing in the darkness below. Then she dropped into the hole and slid down the rock into a small chamber, fumbling for the off button on the torch. She was shaking violently, but wasn’t cold, so it must have been fear. At least she could control that. Or try to. She listened. Nothing.
But which way? Straight on under the huge boulder in front of her, or follow the narrow corridor to the left?
And what is that smell?
She retched again, trying to muffle the sound. She switched the torch back on and shone it under the boulder, but the beam was flickering all over the place.
Stop shaking!
The rock looked polished by years of cavers’ backsides sliding across it.
That must be the way.
Torch off again, she wriggled under the boulder feet first, lying on her back. Fear was taking over and she was in danger of hyperventilating. She closed her eyes.
Control it!
Then her feet dropped clear of the rock, and she slid out on to the floor of a smaller chamber on the other side. Torch on for a quick look around and then off again. It was an odd sensation. No light source anywhere, and yet she could see her fingers as plain as day. She blinked and they were gone, pitched into the absolute darkness once again.
Which way now?
Nick had said the cave followed a stream down through the Mendips, so follow the water. That must be right, mustn’t it? But which way? The sound of running water was all around her.
Down. It must be down.
Crawling now, no knee or elbow pads, but it wouldn’t have been much fun with them anyway. Move, torch off and listen. Move, torch off and listen. Nothing over the sound of the running water and her own breathing. She was inching her way down now.
How far had she gone? Not far, and she was sure she could find her way back out again.
Move, torch off and listen. Nothing. Torch on. She was at the top of a slab that fell away beneath her, the cave roof only two feet above. She’d need to go down on her back, using her hands and feet to brace herself against the roof. Nothing for it. She opened her mouth and held the torch between her teeth like a big fat cigar.
A narrow corridor joined from the right at the bottom of the slab and another from the left, all meeting at the gravel stream bed. Which way now? Torch off and listen. Left was down, at least that was the way the water was going. It must be that way.
Then she heard it. The crunch of gravel. A boulder rocking over. Moving quickly, whoever it was, and coming from the left. She shone her torch into the narrow corridor on the right and ran into it, diving into a shallow cleft under the wall just as she switched off the light. She lay still and waited, soaked to the skin and still shaking, but not cold at all.
The crunch of the gravel was getting louder now, the footsteps faster. Then she saw the light. Only one this time. It paused at the bottom of the slab and then disappeared up it.
Sh
e waited, listening to the shuffling and scrabbling of feet on rock.
No gunshot. Nick must still be alive.
Ninety-nine, one hundred. She had counted to a hundred three times to give him five minutes to get clear; then she slid out of her cleft in the rock and stood up. One last listen. Nothing. Torch on.
Holding the torch in her right hand, she followed the narrow streambed down, walking as fast as she could, always looking two or three paces ahead for places to put her feet. When the chamber opened out, she started to run, but it soon closed in, and she was crawling on her belly again, cursing the lack of knee pads and a helmet.
Then the path levelled off into a narrow corridor, the sound of running water closer now. She shone her torch along to the end, where a wire ladder followed the line of a waterfall into the darkness below.
‘Nick?’
She crept towards the edge, fighting back the panic, the tears drying on her cheeks.
‘Nick?’
Chapter Thirty
The sound of running water was getting louder, the metallic smell stronger. Odd how the other senses take over when you are plunged into darkness.
Dixon squatted down and felt the cavern floor around him. Gravel, boulders to the right, and shards of broken glass from the torch. The waterfall was in front of him, that much was evident from the sound and the spray hitting his face.
He put his left arm out and began shuffling towards the wall that he knew must be there. Somewhere in the darkness.
His hand touched the cold, wet rock.
He stopped and felt around with his foot. No rocks in the immediate vicinity, just gravel, so he started running on the spot, his hand still on the wall to his left.
Keep moving or die. It was as simple as that. But how long could he keep going?
Jane must’ve called for help by now, surely. That was assuming she saw him being led away at gunpoint. And assuming Kandes hadn’t found her. Dixon shook his head and started counting. Anything to take his mind off what might be happening above ground.
A mouthful of fruit pastilles would help too.
Odd that. The waterfall seemed to pause and then start again. And again, as if the tap was being turned off and then on. Either that or someone was walking along the stream bed.
Dixon stepped to his left, his back to the wall, and looked up. A light coming along the passage. But who was it? Surely it wasn’t Kandes coming back to finish him off.
‘Nick? Are you down there?’
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
‘Nick?’
‘Down here!’
Dixon opened his eyes and watched the beam of light searching for him in the darkness, squinting when Jane shone the torch in his face.
‘Nick, thank God. Are you all right?’ She was standing at the top of the waterfall, leaning over, one hand on the wire ladder to steady herself.
‘Yes, I’m fine. Did you call it in?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where’s Kandes?’
‘He passed me in the passage back there. He’s gone.’
‘Did you lock the Land Rover?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ replied Dixon. ‘Do they know we’re down here?’
‘Yes. I rang again from the entrance and asked for cave rescue.’
‘There’s no time for that. In these clothes I’ll be dead before they get here.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
Dixon looked at the ladder hanging freely ten feet above him, swinging gently in the water pouring down. The walls on either side were overhanging, the one on his left drier than the one on the right, but the ladder was further away from that side.
‘Shine the torch at this wall.’
Dixon looked at the overhanging wall above him. A large ripple of flowstone covered the first twenty feet or so – red or orange, it was difficult to tell in the light of the torch, but more importantly it had several pockets in it, where water cascading over the waterfall had eroded it.
He looked at the waterfall and thanked his lucky stars that it was just a trickle. A raging torrent would have been a very different matter.
‘When I give you the signal, start swinging the ladder towards me. All right?’
‘What’re you going to do?’
‘Climb as high as I can and reach for it.’
‘We could wait for a longer ladd—’
‘We don’t have time, Jane. All right? Just believe me. We don’t have time.’
Dixon turned to face the rock, Jane shining the torch just above his head.
‘Keep it just above me.’
‘OK.’
He reached up and took hold of the edge of the flowstone in his left hand and leaned over to his right. Then he put his right toe in the first pocket and stood up on it. Left hand a bit higher now, sliding it up the edge of the flowstone, searching for a decent handhold with his fingers.
The next pocket was just out of reach above him, his fingers no more than a few inches short. Nothing for it but to step up on his left foot and hope for the best. He looked for a foothold, but the best he could find was a small bump in the flowstone. Rock climbing boots would have been fine, but leather soled shoes?
Jake, where are you when I need you?
Dixon stepped up on to his left foot and reached for the pocket above him with his right hand.
Shit.
‘Shine the torch on the ground!’
Dixon turned and jumped, landing in the stream bed with a splash.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘My feet were slipping.’
He bent over and undid his shoelaces.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Jane.
‘Taking my shoes off. It’s the only way.’
He looped the laces through his belt and then tied them, before sliding the shoes around to his side, his socks, saturated though they were, he stuffed in his pockets.
Then he turned back to the overhanging rock.
He glanced down at his feet, shards of broken glass glinting in the light from the torch all around them. Turning and jumping was no longer an option, unless he wanted to cut the soles of his feet to ribbons.
This time his left foot held on the small bump, and he was able to reach the second pocket with his right hand. He slid his left higher still up the leading edge of the flowstone and searched for another pocket for his right foot, finding a small one, just enough for his toe.
He was almost level with the bottom of the ladder now, but needed to be higher. He turned back to the rock. The large pocket he had seen from the cavern floor was just above him now; it was large enough for both hands and he could reach for the ladder from there. He was sure of it.
Taking the strain on his left hand, he walked his feet up the wall until he was able to get his right toes in the same pocket as his right hand. Then he lurched upwards for the large pocket above.
Reach for it. Higher. Stop mucking about.
Is that you, Jake?
Dixon’s fingers closed around the edge of the handhold and he pulled up, moving his left hand across at the same time.
Now for the ladder.
‘Start swinging it towards me,’ he shouted, watching the bottom rung. It would be that one or perhaps the next one up, leaving his feet flailing again.
‘Make sure you let go when you see me go for it.’
‘OK.’
Several deep breaths, the ladder swinging closer each time. Then he reached out with his right hand and caught the bottom rung. A good firm grip. Now for it. He let go of the rock with his left hand and swung out across the cavern, just missing the wall on the other side.
Both hands on the bottom rung now, he waited until the ladder stopped swinging, remembering all the years of rock climbing training he’d done with Jake. Pull-ups on door tops one handed.
He pulled up with both hands and reached for the next rung with his left. Then his right, gathering momentum. He stopped for a rest when he got
his left foot on the bottom rung, his hands behind the ladder now, caving style.
‘You’ve done it!’ shouted Jane.
He made short work of the ladder, Jane grabbing his arm and pulling him across from the top rungs to the safety of the passageway.
‘Thank you,’ he said, gasping for breath.
Jane threw her arms around him and kissed him.
Dixon untied the shoelaces knotted around his belt and dropped his shoes on the ground in front of him. Then he slid his feet into them and knelt down to tie the laces.
‘Right then,’ he said, looking up. ‘Let’s go and find Kandes.’
Moving quickly, they were soon back at the base of the slab, Jane in front with Dixon behind, carrying the torch.
‘What if he’s locked us in?’
‘He won’t do that. He wants it to look like an accident don’t forget,’ replied Dixon. ‘Up you go.’ He was shining the torch up the slab.
Dixon went first under the large boulder and shone the torch for Jane to follow. Then he climbed out into the darkness and listened.
Sirens in the distance, but that was it.
‘C’mon then,’ he said, helping her out. They turned when two loud bangs echoed across the hillside.
‘Is that—?’
‘Gunfire,’ said Dixon.
They were running along the bottom of the wood towards the first drystone wall when Dixon saw lights coming across the field from Priddy, off to their right. Blue lights were reflecting off the snow on the rooftops of the houses.
‘That’ll be the cave rescue team,’ said Dixon.
‘I’ll go,’ said Jane. ‘I’ll catch you up.’
Dixon crept up to the drystone wall at the bottom of the garden, breathing heavily. He had run all the way from the cave entrance, following Kandes’s tracks in the snow, and had warmed up even if he hadn’t dried off.
He peered over the wall. The scene was lit by the headlights of two marked police cars that were blocking the drive. Two armed officers were behind the wall on the far side of the car park, and another two were crouched behind the leading car.
An ambulance was waiting out on the road, with other police cars, judging by all the blue lights.
Dixon looked across and spotted Kandes behind one of the sheds, only a few yards away from him.