by Linda Palmer
“I’m perfect.” I pulled myself together, at least on the outside. “Perfectly perfect, except that I’m freezing my very wet booty off. Would you please start the fire? Or should I?”
“I’ve got it.” Kit began moving the limbs and igniting the moss while I unpacked a thermos of coffee. I drank some from the lid before offering the remainder to him. He finished it off. “Thanks. Still doing okay?”
“I’m perfect.”
He mouthed the words as I said them. “Be glad you’re not on your belly, Boone, wiggling your way through a tiny shaft going nowhere. I’ve done that, and I don’t recommend it. At least here we’ve got plenty of room to maneuver and an obvious way out.”
“I can’t look at things the way you do. But, phobias never make sense, do they?”
“Sure they do…if you’ve a bad experience. Have you?”
I hesitated.
“I’m not as insensitive as you obviously think, okay? We’re all scared of something.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me one thing that frightens you.”
“I’m afraid the woman I love will never love me back.”
My breath left my lungs in a whoosh of surprise. “You’re in love?”
He shrugged instead of answering.
“But all those women…”
“It’s not just women who come around my place. I help guys, too.”
“Help how?”
“By providing inexpensive photos that showcase their talents. Since I’ve been where they are, I know it’s critical to have a professional portfolio. I work cheap because most of them are barely making ends meet.”
“Oh.” I felt a stab of remorse that I had everything so wrong. “And this woman you love?”
“What about her?”
“Is she one of your wannabe models?”
“No more questions.”
I rolled my eyes. “Perfect.” Apparently that was my new favorite word.
Once Kit made the fire, I moved closer to the flames flickering among the branches he’d arranged. We’d need more before morning. Should I gather some now? Determined to do my part, I abruptly dropped my blanket and started toward the mouth of the cave.
He caught up and grabbed my hand. “Where are you going?”
“To get more firewood.”
“Look, I know the plan is to rest and start our hunt at midnight. But I’m thinking we’d be better off exploring now. It’s as black as Zeus’s heart in here, so it’s not going to get any darker.”
Zeus’s heart? That was new.
“We’ll film ourselves checking out every nook and cranny. We’ll come back and rest. We’ll hike down to base camp and be done.”
That sounded wonderful to me. “The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”
“Agreed. The camera battery still seems to have a good charge, but I’ll put the spare pack in my pocket. We’ll take rope and a good flashlight. Anything else we’ll need?”
Courage? “Water, maybe.”
“Right.” Kit stuck his head and left arm through the looped rope and stuffed a couple of bottles of water into his jacket pocket. He also dug a Canon out of the backpack and ducked into the strap, which left it hanging in easy reach. I assumed it was his personal camera. “You want to take the lead?”
“No thanks.” I tugged down my damp jacket and straightened my waterlogged cap before setting the camera, still in infrared mode, on my shoulder.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
With the aid of his big flashlight, Kit picked one of the three tunnels that led from the area in which we stood. He doused the light, and we headed out with just the LEDs to show us the way. Through the night vision lens, everything was in black and gray, with some dark things appearing light, like a negative. Except for the creep factor, it wasn’t a bad walk. In fact, the cave floor was surprisingly smooth, at least at first. A quick glance to my right and left revealed no creepy crawlies. But a longing to go back challenged whatever confidence I’d been building. “Do you have a compass?”
“Yes.”
“Should we be leaving some kind of trail?”
“You mean bread crumbs, sister Gretel?”
“No, idiot. I was thinking we could unwind the rope as we explore and then follow it back.”
Kit stopped and turned. “There’s not enough. Besides, I have a great sense of direction. We won’t get lost.” Although I hadn’t asked him to, he turned on the big flashlight again and began walking, the bright beam of it illuminating our path and part of the walls as we put some distance between us and our cozy fire. We explored about twenty minutes, walking on a rock floor increasingly rough, before he spoke again. “Hey, get a load of this.” He stopped and shone the light on some eerie ceiling-to-floor formations.
Even though I knew they were nothing but drip stalactites, I caught my breath. “They look like people.”
“Yeah.”
“But they’re not, right?”
“This isn’t Pompeii, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Somehow he knew I was thinking of the twenty-thousand citizens who’d been caught by surprise when Mt. Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD. Their bodies had been encased in hot ash that eventually hardened. As they decomposed they left empty areas that excavators eventually filled with plaster. The result? Amazingly detailed casts of the victims that showed every gruesome detail of their agonizing deaths. I couldn’t think of a more horrifying way to die.
Kit walked up to one and examined it closely. “This is so cool.”
I reluctantly joined him. “If you say so.”
He slipped around the thing, taking stills with his personal camera while I filmed him. The flashlight, propped on a rock, helped brighten things. “How are you doing, Boone?”
“I’m perfect.”
“Liar.”
I pretended not to hear.
Kit moved on. “You never told me why you’re claustrophobic.”
Damn. He’d noticed. “I got lost in a cave when I was six.” Aware that I was recording, I carefully worded my story as we moved deeper into the lava tunnel. My voice sounded eerily hollow in the dark. “I was supposed to stay right with my parents, but at that age, I had no fear and no concept of possible consequences. They didn’t find me for five hours.”
Kit stopped short, but kept his back to me for a second before tossing a glance over his shoulder. “That’s the stuff of nightmares.”
Were his eyes shimmering? Or was the iffy lighting simply playing tricks? Caught off guard by what might be a sincere display of sympathy, I changed the subject. “Slow down, will you? I can’t keep up.”
“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, a self-conscious sound. “Is that what started the bad dreams?”
“Yes. I had them until I was nine.”
“When your dream catcher showed up?”
I stopped right there and backed up what I’d filmed so I could digitally overwrite what he’d just asked me, as well as my response. “Are you nuts? My parents don’t know.”
“About the nightmares or your subconscious savior?”
“Both.”
“Hm. You do realize that if you’d opened up to them, we wouldn’t be monster hunting in a Chilean cave.”
“Are you judging me, Macho-man?”
“No. I just—”
“You are judging me, and without really knowing who I am.”
“I know you better than you think.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I’m just very observant is all. Now could we please get this done? My wet clothes are starting to chafe me.”
“No one asked you to charge into the storm and gather fire wood.”
“You were freezing.”
“And you weren’t?”
With a soft sigh, Kit pivoted and began walking. I scurried after him. His flashlight showed us the turns, but left way too much to my imagination. The cave walls encroached with every step. Our path became an obstacle course of point
y rocks and unexpected holes. Every time we came to a fork in the tunnel, Kit stayed to the left, a good strategy, I thought. All right turns on the way back.
I heard what sounded like low whistles, but not human ones. Some kind of cave creature?
Our cave creature?
Kit must’ve been reading my mind. “That’s just the wind catching in the holes in the lava.” Turning, he began took my camera. “You should say something about how these caves are formed.”
“Probably.” I wiggled my shoulder to get the blood flowing again. “Where should I stand?”
“That wall is pretty incredible, and we’ll get some of those crazy stalactites in the shot.”
I stepped into place and breathed deeply a couple of times to steady my voice. “Lava caves are formed when lava flows down the sides of a volcano. The upper part cools and forms a crust, but the rest continues to move.” I tried to remember everything Mom had put on the fact sheet. “Sometimes gullies or trenches are formed later, too, as the lava keeps piling up. As you can see, these walls are pretty amazing. And look at all the stalactites and stalagmites.” I suddenly ran out of things to say. “Is that enough?”
Kit, who wasn’t even looking at the camera screen, didn’t seem to hear.
“Kit! Is that enough?”
When he still didn’t respond, I closed the distance between us and touched his arm. He jumped as if he’d been electrocuted.
I fell back. “What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, Kit quietly set down the camera and killed the flashlight. In total blackness, he stepped close and draped an arm over my shoulders. He touched my chin with his free hand, gently turning my face so that I was looking where he looked.
Eyes.
Glowing red eyes.
And just yards way.
Chapter Seven
Before I could react, they vanished.
Had I really seen them?
When Kit spoke, he kept his mouth to my ear and used a voice so low that I could barely hear him. “You stay here, okay? I’m going to investigate.”
“As if.” I spoke in a frantic hiss. “I’m not letting you get farther than a—”
“—whisper away? Well, if you’re coming, you’ll have to keep it together.”
I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t. How many guys would actually use the words ‘whisper away’? Not many. Coincidence again? I didn’t believe it. Could I accept the obvious—totally insane—alternative?
No. I didn’t believe that, either.
Kit’s iron grip on my wrist jerked me back to reality. “What’s wrong? Did you see something?”
“No.” I peeled his fingers off me.
“Will you be all right if we go looking for this thing?”
“Yes.”
Although I couldn’t see squat, I heard Kit scoop up our gear. He turned on the flashlight. By the glow of it, I straightened the camera on my shoulder.
Where was my mind? Stuck on my dream catcher. So my thudding heart had little to do with the glowing red eyes in my here and now, or even the flesh-and-blood man standing beside me.
Kit took the lead again, with me a couple of steps behind, filming our progress down the narrowing tunnel. I barely watched where we were going. Most of my brain was focused on the things he’d said that evening. Too many coincidences added up to funny business in my opinion. But what kind? I decided to test him.
“Is your brother older or younger?” I kept my voice low.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Say what?”
“You heard.”
For a good thirty seconds, Kit didn’t speak. He finally turned and directed the beam of his flashlight so we could see each other without being blinded. “Older, and he’s a half-brother. Same dad. Different moms. How’d you know about him?”
“I didn’t. Is he like you?”
“We’re poles apart, actually. Never agree on anything. Er, how did you know about him?”
“In other words, you’ve spent your whole life cleaning up his messes.”
“You could say that, yeah. How. Did. You. Know. About. Him?”
“I told you. I. Didn’t.”
Kit stared at me for a second before switching off the flashlight. “I think we’ll be more likely to find something if we do it in the dark. You take the lead. Use the camera screen to see where you’re going. I’ll be right behind you.”
I slipped past him and headed on, pleased that he’d fallen into my trap. But what had I really proved?
A near stumble forced me to focus on my immediate surroundings instead of an unlikely dreamscape. The rock floor began to drastically change. More than once, I stubbed my boots on stalagmites so rough and jagged they could’ve belonged to another planet. My gaze flicked from left to right, searching for those horrible red eyes. I thought of all the horror movies I’d watched over the past couple of weeks. None had been as scary as this.
To stay calm, I tried to redirect my thoughts, but that landed me on the enigma that was Kit Macchioni. For a moment there, I’d almost convinced myself he was my dream catcher. Yeah, completely ridiculous. Was I so lonely that I wished—even for an instant—that he was the actually embodiment of a figment?
Poor pitiful me.
Or not.
I had wonderful friends, starting with Hanna. I hoped her dad was better. I wished I could call to find out. I had coworkers who respected me and parents who loved me. I had nice neighbors, a perfect apartment, a reliable car. I wanted for nothing, yet I wished for more, not the least of which was do-overs on Hot Cakes.
The burning excitement of opening my business had been doused in a sea of reality. I wanted to bake and decorate amazing cakes. I did not want to run a business to do it. Why hadn’t I simply applied to one of the other bakeries in St. Louis? What had driven me to open my own bakery without adequate experience?
I thought of several reasons, the biggest being my parents’ success. Yes, they loved me, and I loved them, the reason I wanted to make them proud. Simply being me had never felt like enough to do it. Had I really let one childhood incident influence my career decisions? More important, had I let it taint my self-image?
“Stop!”
Kit’s yell made me jump. I zoned in on the camera screen, something I should’ve been doing all along. In the distance I saw…
Whoa!
No.
Couldn’t be.
Kit, who’d turned on the flashlight, shoved past, knocking me and the camera into the wall. Before I could react, the tiny red glows I’d just spotted became the fiery eyes of a gigantic Cherufe pounding straight for us. Formed of chunky rock, molten lava, and flames, it matched the photos I’d found online. As it hurtled forward, the cave shuddered. Rocks big and small skittered across my feet and rained down on my head.
Screaming, I fought to keep my balance while Kit somehow charged ahead. Monster and man crashed together in a terrifying shower of sparks, a collision that made my ears ring. In utter disbelief, I watched them roll in and out of the fallen flashlight’s beam. Snatching it from the cave floor, I ran forward, aiming for the Cherufe as if I could actually hurt it. I swung hard. It connected. The monster rolled off Kit and into the shadows, out of sight.
With a sob, I dropped to my knees, expecting Kit’s body to be cinders. But a quick pat down proved the opposite. “You’re okay!”
“Yeah.” He struggled to sit up.
I gave him a hand and, once he was sitting, a huge hug seasoned with salty tears. “I thought he’d killed you.” I could barely get the words out for crying.
He patted my back. “Shh. I’m fine, see? It’s all good.”
I raised my head to better inspect his face. My emotion had clearly startled him even more than it had startled me. Millimeters apart, we stared into each other eyes. I wanted to kiss him so badly I ached. My gaze dropped to his lips just as his tongue flicked over them. We swayed ever so slightly.
Derisive male laughter from the darkness beyond broke us apart. A figure
emerged from the shadows, slowly and deliberately applauding. I snatched up the flashlight and saw a guy about Kit’s size with the same Hershey bar eyes.
“My brother’s right. It’s all good. And you want to know why? Because it never happened.” He morphed into the Cherufe just long enough for me to gasp. Then, once more a guy, he spread his arms wide and gave me a cocky wink.
I recoiled, my gaze shifting from one to the other and back again. Crazy conclusions spun like a mini tornado inside my head. “What the hell?” In a flash I jumped to my feet and backed away.
Kit jumped up, too, his arms out to stop me. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Really? You mean this isn’t an elaborate prank hatched to ridicule me and my parents?” I kept moving, feeling for solid ground with each foot. My face felt sunburned. I trembled all over, but not from fear or even cold. I was seething.
“Of course not.” Kit glanced at the other guy. “I’d never do anything like that. I love you.”
I spewed a laugh of disbelief.
“Tell her, Ben.”
“Ben” shook his head. “Not me. I don’t have a dog in this fight.”
“You are the dog in this fight! And you know what? I’ve had it with you.” They dove at each other.
Fists flew. That sound and their colorful curses jogged a memory loose. Yeah, big time déjà vu. I’d heard these two brothers fighting before.
But when…where…how?
In your dreams.
No freaking way. I just couldn’t accept it—not without considering that everything else I thought I’d imagined was actually real, too. The monster under my bed? Check. The bogey man in the closet? Check. The zombie outside the window? Yeah. It, too.
Confused and dismayed, I turned on my heel and left them at a jog, my intended destination our makeshift camp near the lava tunnel’s entrance. But it was uphill between here and there, and I had to slow down. Panting in the thin air, I tried to figure out why Kit would do this to me.
More important, could he do this to me? A set-up this elaborate would require a lot of planning, yet we’d been improvising since yesterday. At least, I had. Did he have a master plan? I couldn’t think how. There hadn’t been time. As to why—I was nobody to him. Just the neighbor down the hall with boobs nowhere near bodacious.