The Cave

by Amanda McKinney

  Still no signs of Deputy Tucker.

  “Where’re you going?” Sadie grabbed her pack and fell into step next to Owen as he stepped into the cave.

  “To find my uncle’s murder weapon.”

  “Right now?” She struggled to keep up with his stride on the slick rocks.

  “Yeah.”

  “What about everything else? How’s Griffin? Have you heard?”

  He shook his head, slowing as the cave closed in around them. “He’s a tough kid. Healthy. Young. He’s got a better shot than most.”

  “Owen, don’t patronize me, I heard them say he wasn’t breathing as they strapped him down.”

  “Doesn’t mean he’s not going to make it. You can’t think like that, Sadie.” He grabbed her hand and helped her through a group of thick stalagmites.

  “You act like you know where you’re going.”

  “Griffin said the knife was on a ledge just below the water, somewhere past the Anarchy room.” Owen squeezed through a narrow crevice, then helped her through.

  “That doesn’t pinpoint where to look.” Why was she trying to talk him out of this?

  “I’ll find it… Goddammit.” His voice trailed off as they looked at the small river of water rushing along the bottom of the rotted tree trunk bridge. It was at least two inches higher than it had been that morning.

  “Quickly,” he said. “Let’s go.” He helped her across, and through the next narrow passage until they reached the Grand Room. The roar of the waterfall almost deafening.

  Sadie’s mouth gaped. “Whoa.”

  Owen shined his light along the rippling black water. “It’s risen about a foot since this morning.” He turned to her. “Go back. Tell the sheriff what I’m doing.”

  “First, don’t act like you didn’t tell someone you were coming in here. You’re not that irresponsible. Second, no. I’m coming. I haven’t finished my job yet. I’ll finish up while you look for the knife. All bases covered.”

  His jaw twitched as he stared at her.

  “I’m not going back. I’ll finish my search with or without you.”

  He nodded, as if deciding something, and if she knew Owen, it was that he’d rather keep an eye on her himself, than leave her fate to the group outside.

  “Fine. The water’s not going to rise quickly enough within the next hour to trap us in. But that doesn’t mean we don’t need to hustle, you stubborn, little…”

  “Shhh.” She grinned and pressed her finger to his lips.

  He nipped. “Okay, let’s get at it. Ladies first.”

  Sadie stepped onto the wooden footbridge that lined the far wall of the Grand Room, making a mental mark of the height of the water. Not that it mattered. The waters were rising and there was nothing they could do about it. Like Owen said, they needed to hustle.

  They crossed the bridge, shining their lights into the water just below them, looking for the ledge that Griffin was so sure held the knife that killed Owen’s uncle.

  “I can tell you one thing,” she raised her voice over the rushing water. “Griff wouldn’t have hung out on this bridge long enough to spot a knife in the water, I promise you that. He’s claustrophobic. Doesn’t like to be trapped.”

  “Okay, let’s keep going.”

  They stepped onto the rock floor, and made their way to the opening that led to the Anarchy room.

  “I’m going to address the elephant in the room,” she said, forcing out the thoughts that had been swirling in her head over the last hour.

  Owen glanced over his shoulder with a cocked eyebrow.

  “It can’t be a coincidence that Griffin was shot right after he found the knife.”

  “No, I don’t think it’s a coincidence at all.” He swept his light along the walls.

  “Then, it had to have been someone around. Someone in our group. Someone watching him in the cave.” The thought sent a shiver up her spine.

  “These woods go on for miles and miles, Sadie. Crypts Cavern is legendary, a damn tourist attraction. Hundreds of people hike around here. There’s nothing keeping anyone from walking up on us.”

  “True. But it goes back to the timing… Griffin found a knife, and either whoever shot him saw him find it, or Griffin told someone about it before he told us. Whether that person is the person who tried to kill him or not, they must’ve told whoever did.” She looked at Owen for validation of her sick thought, or maybe hoping for the opposite.

  He nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Has Lieutenant Colson found Deputy Tucker?”

  “Has the day off. They’re looking for him.”

  “What was Crawly doing in the woods when Griffin got shot?”

  “Taking a shit. Offered to take us there to prove it.”

  “Gross. Really? That’s what he said he was doing?”

  “Yep.”

  “Who shits in the woods?”

  Owen cast a confused look over his shoulder. “Every man who’s ever grown up in the woods. And I’m guessing Colson sent someone to verify.”

  “That’s disgusting. I hope he wiped with poison ivy.”

  “Doubt he wiped at all.”

  “Gross. That still doesn’t cross him off the list, in my opinion.”

  “Crawly didn’t shoot Griffin.”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  “Griffin was shot by someone on the far side of the cave, in the opposite direction that Crawly came from.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The angle of his body. How he fell. Where the shots were on his body. There’s a clear path with line of sight to the right of the mouth of the cave. They’ll confirm it with the autopsy of Brian, too.”

  “Did you search the path?”

  “Colson and his team are. This rain, though…”

  “I know…”

  “Crawly doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “Why so sure?”

  “Colson confronted him about everything. Crawly admitted that he didn’t include Kat’s comments about Jane Doe’s hysterics because, frankly, he didn’t believe her. Says Kat was so drunk she could barely stand when he got there. Took note of the trespassing and moved on.”

  “That’s why he didn’t bother to ask about cameras.”

  “Right. He got a call about some kids pushing someone off Devil’s Cove and left her with her drunk ass to go take care of more important things, in his words. Never entered his mind again.”

  Sadie wondered how many times officers blew off what appeared to be small disturbances, that were actually a huge clue in another case. All the time, she bet.

  “Why did Tucker visit her today asking about your uncle?”

  “We’ll find out as soon as we find him. Alright, so there’s the Anarchy room.” Owen shined the light on the narrow opening at the end of the tunnel, then swept it to the passageway to the left. “Griffin either searched inside the room, or explored further this way. I’m assuming the water runs out that way.”

  “I’ll take the room. You take the tunnel.”

  “Thought you’d say that.” He winked. “Alright, finish up looking for bones first, then look for the knife.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll meet you in the Anarchy room in twenty minutes. Don’t leave there. We need to hustle.”

  She nodded, then Owen lifted her over the rock wall and helped her squeeze through the tiny opening.

  “You good?” He hollered through the opening.

  “Yep.”

  “Alright. Twenty minutes. I’ll be back.”

  “I’m counting on it.” Sadie set down her pack, positioned her extra light in the corner, and looked around. Fast-moving streams of water ran down the walls of the room—water that hadn’t been there earlier in the day. Her stomach dipped with nerves. We need to hustle was an understatement. Sadie pulled out her tools, rolled up her sleeves and got to work sifting through the only corner of the room she hadn’t searched that morning. She heard movement outside the room, a few grunts echoing against the ro
ck wall where Owen was exploring the passageway.

  Sadie kneeled lower and switched angles, flashing her light along the corner of the room. Her hand slipped and squelched into nasty black goo up her wrist. She frowned, cocked her head, hearing a faint whistle of wind along a small crack where the rock met the floor of the cave. She lowered further, scooping away the goop with one hand as she shined the light with the other. Slowly, a gap became visible. Sadie flattened to her stomach, twisted her neck, and repositioned the flashlight to shine into the gap.

  The beam reflected off grimy ivory.

  “Holy shit.” She shimmied forward until her forehead was pressed against the rock. “That’s a freaking bone.”

  Chapter 20

  Owen glanced at his watch as he squeezed through another crevice in the rock wall. Ten more minutes.

  He shifted the headlamp he’d slid on and looked around. After getting through a hold so tight, he wasn’t sure if he could get back out, the cave had opened up to a four by four tunnel with a small river of rushing water running along the side. He’d noted a constant flow of air coming from the end of the tunnel, indicating that there was an entry-point to the cave that they didn’t know about.

  But someone else did.

  Regardless, he didn’t have time to look for that now. He needed to find that damn knife and get Sadie out of the cave and out of these Godforsaken woods.

  Owen hunched over and made his way down the tunnel which narrowed into a V that was too tight to push his body through, which meant Griffin couldn’t either—claustrophobia or not. So, he turned and started from the beginning, shinning his light into the water.

  A fish—so translucent that he could almost see through it—skirted past him. He cocked his head and looked at the spot where the water ran under the rocks.

  “Must lead to the lake…” he muttered into the silence. “And that’s a damn decent current”.

  Following his gut, he crab-walked to the rock wall and shined his light in the far corner—the beam sparkling off the tip of a knife on the far side of the rushing water.

  Bingo. Whoever killed his uncle tossed the knife in the lake and the current caught it. All secrets come to light, indeed.

  He positioned his light on a rock, rolled up his sleeves and lowered down to his stomach. The river was about six feet wide, with the knife sitting on an underwater ledge just out of his reach. Definitely easy to miss.

  Dammit, dammit, dammit.

  He grit his teeth and repositioned, stretching farther until the skin under his arm felt like it was about to tear. Ice-cold water rushed against his chest as he hung as far over as he could without falling in.

  No luck.

  Son of a bitch.

  He pushed to a stance and looked around. For what? A Reacher grabber to magically appear?

  Well… fuck.

  He sighed. Only one option left.

  After another quick check of the time, Owen stripped down to his boxer-briefs, opting to keep them on. No telling what might come up from the depths below, ready to nibble on his junk.

  He popped his neck from side to side. “Alright, it’s go time.”

  Another exhale steeling himself for the frigid, black water, before he lowered himself down.

  “Son of a…” It felt like shards of glass piercing his skin.

  Owen had been in colder water in the ocean, but this was a damn close second.

  Anchoring one hand on the rock wall, he kicked his way over to the ledge, reached down, and slid the cold metal out from the ledge. Just as Griffin had said, the letter A, enclosed in a circle, decorated the hilt of a six-inch, smooth blade hunting knife. He turned, kicked over to the ledge, and pulled himself out. After securing the knife in his pack, Owen pulled on his clothes.

  Time was ticking.

  He quickly made his way back to Sadie, squeezing through the tiny opening and sliding down the slide of the Anarchy room. He turned, and his eyebrows popped up.

  “Whoa.”

  With nearly every inch of her face, neck, and arms covered in mud, Sadie grinned from ear to ear. “Found another bone.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep,” she nodded to the clear bag sitting on top of her pack. “A tibia—leg—bone. Human, no doubt about it. Very, very old. Definitely not your uncle or from anyone recent. Check it out.”

  “Where was it?”

  “In the corner, over there. There’s a gap in the wall that was buried under a crapload of well, crap and mud. It leads to what appears to be a tiny room, more like a coffin, really. It was in there.”

  Owen kneeled down and looked at the small crevice in the rock. “Good find, Dr. Hart.”

  “Thanks. Did you get it?”

  “Yep.”

  “The knife? You did?” She pushed to her feet, slipping a moment before catching herself.

  “Yep.”

  “Oh my God, that’s fantastic, Owen.”

  “Let’s head back.”

  “You read my thoughts.” Sadie placed the bone in her pack, then made her way to the rock wall and grabbed onto the hand holds. “Grab my light in the corner will you…”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Owen jogged across the rocks and bent down to pick up her flashlight when—

  “Shit!”

  He spun around as Sadie slid down the wall and hit the ground with a thud.

  “Ow! Shit! My foot.” she spurted out.

  Fuck.

  Owen crossed the room in two steps, fell to his knees, and the moment he saw her foot, he knew.

  Twisted at a ninety-degree angle, the bottom half of her leg looked like a number 7. Her ankle, trapped between two rocks, was undoubtedly broken… in several places if he had to guess.

  “Shit.”

  “Owen,” tears fell down her flushed, panic-stricken face. “Oh, my God, it hurts.” She squeezed her eyes shut and rocked back and forth in pain, as much as she could, anyway.

  “Get it out, Owen,” she begged between her teeth. “Get it out.”

  “I will.” He ground his teeth and clamped one hand over the toes, and one over the heel—no budge.

  Shit.

  “Okay, Sadie, I need you to look at me.”

  She opened her eyes, releasing more tears down her cheeks.

  “You’re going to be okay, but your ankle is broken.”

  “Thanks for the newsflash, Dr. Grayson.”

  She was a strong woman to crack a joke while her foot dangled like a piece of meat. “I’m going to unwedge it—”

  “Go slow,” she whined, slamming her eyes shut again.

  “Do your breathing, okay? Focus on the breaths, in, out, in, out.”

  She started breathing in a rhythm that reminded him of those eighties sex-education films they’d made him watch in junior high school.

  Once her trembling lessened, he started working her foot out, little by little, inch by inch. After five minutes of torturing her, he sat back. No way in hell was “slow and gentle” going to cut it. He was going to have to yank it out.

  “Okay, this isn’t working.”

  “You can’t get it out?” Her eyes shot open, sweat now mixing with the tears wetting her face. “Like, you have to cut it off?” Her voice pitched.

  “No.” He couldn’t hide his chuckle. “No, this isn’t 127 Hours. No, I’m going to get your foot out, but, baby, it’s gonna hurt.” He swiped the tears from her face. “I need you to be strong, okay?”

  She nodded, jutted out her chin and sniffed the tears away.

  His heart kicked.

  “Okay, on three, okay?”

  She nodded feverishly, strength reflecting in her clenched jaw.

  “One…” He gripped both ends of her foot. “Two… three.”

  Her scream vibrated off the walls as he yanked her foot free from the grip of the cave floor. The surge of adrenaline only lasted until she caught a glimpse of her limp ankle… and passed out cold.

  Fuck.

  Twenty minutes of fanning and administering water
later, Sadie was finally able to sit upright without turning a shade of green Owen had seen on rookies’ faces during their first helo ride in a thunderstorm.

  “A little better?” He helped lift her head off his lap—pleased with himself that he’d been able to fight the boner that had been threatening to peak.

  She groggily sat up. “Besides feeling like my leg has been run over by a school bus? Sure.”

  “The ibuprofen should kick in shortly. I gave you half the bottle.”

  “What?”

  “Just joking, but definitely enough to dull the pain and help the swelling.” He glanced down at the cantaloupe that was once her ankle.

  “Well, yeehaw,” she muttered.

  He smiled, then took a deep breath, and frowned as he looked at her. It was time—beyond time. “Sadie, we’ve got to get out of here.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  During the handful of minutes he wasn’t thinking about sex while she’d regained her composure on his lap, he’d decided that the only way they were going to make it out of the cave was if he carried her. There was nothing available to build a travois to drag her out, and even if there were, he wouldn’t be able to get her through the narrow passage ways. Nope, Sadie Hart was going to have to deal with dangling over his shoulder for the next ten minutes… after he got her over the damn steep wall of the Anarchy room first.

  He grabbed her shoulders as she attempted to stand. “No. There’s no way you can walk.”

  “I can bounce.”

  “As much as I’d like to see that, no. Bouncing on one foot through a dark, slick cave is a great way to break your other ankle.”

  “Good point. So… what now?”

  He opened his arms. “Hot Rod at your service.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Owen. You cannot carry me.”

  “Well now you’re just insulting me.” He positioned himself behind her.

  “But—”

  “Giddy up, baby. No time to argue. Not another word about it.” He rubbed his palms together. “Okay, we’ve got to get you over the wall first. You’ve got this.”

  As Sadie turned to face the wall, he checked the time—shit—then slid his forearms under her armpits and lifted her off the ground.