Hunter (In the Company of Snipers Book 14)

by Irish Winters

  Hunter grunted. Big whoop. A ledge. Was that supposed to be a breakthrough? They didn’t even have a decent set of clothes between the two of them. Neither had anything left of their shirts but rags. Their pants and boots seemed to have withstood the river’s battery. As for their skin? Plenty scraped, cut, and shredded. He’d been in a few barroom brawls in his life. This one had them beat.

  “I’ve been thinking.” Ky was the kind of guy who accepted whatever Hunter dished out without once striking back or arguing. He would’ve made the perfect lifer. He just kept on keeping on, no matter what.

  When he didn’t share what he’d been thinking, Hunter gave in and asked, “What?”

  “Well, I’m no expert, but it seems to me this river used to be a lot deeper. Something gouged that ledge out. It might have taken millions of years, but that ledge up there has to be the result of natural erosion. That’s all it could be. It sure wasn’t man-made.”

  Hunter rolled his eyes, not caring much about the geological formation of his prison. He’d lost his drive. It had been a good four days since he’d last eaten. The water tasted like wet sand, and he was blind. He couldn’t for the life of him figure what kept Ky going. Yet Ky was damned near as regular as the bats. The guy spent more time exploring the walls of this cavern than he did the solid ground.

  “It makes sense, Hunt, if you think about it. Look at lakeshores the world over. When the water level decreases, it leaves a ledge. A shoreline. Judging the size of this cavern, this river’s been rolling for eons.”

  “Can you see?” Hunter asked quietly, his fists clenched tight.

  “You still can’t?” Ky moved in closer, his fingers brushing Hunter’s bare forearm.

  Gritting his teeth, Hunter faced away. If he could see, he wouldn’t be asking now, would he? The fall had done him in, but everything was blurry and dark. He didn’t know if it was him or if there really was no light in this place.

  Hard hits to a man’s skull damaged delicate things like retinas. The only thing he’d seen semi-clearly in days was the very dim light from Ky’s flashlight, but now even that was gone. And he was worried. Blind men didn’t make good soldiers. They didn’t even make good men.

  “The ceiling in here is covered with some kind of crystal. It glows. Or maybe it’s fireflies, some kind of bug or larvae. It almost twinkles, like it’s moving,” Ky explained what Hunter already knew. They’d had this audio tour of the cavern—how many times before? A dozen? More?

  It started again. Way high ceiling. Stalactites hanging down, some so large they’d created walls and columns. Stalagmites aiming upward to join with the stone dripping from above. Churning river aft. The cavern wall starboard unless you faced the opposite direction. Something glittering overhead. Blah, blah, blah.

  Hearing about it again didn’t mean squat. Hunter needed to see it for a change. He cut Ky off. “Stow the tour.”

  “Your blindness is probably temporary,” Ky encouraged.

  But compassion irked Hunter. “You better get climbing. The bats will be back soon.”

  “You know, that’s another thing. Where are they coming from? And where do they go when they leave?”

  Hunter turned his face up to the glowing ceiling he couldn’t see and began counting to ten. Ky tended toward kindness. Hunter tended toward rage. The two didn’t have much in common.

  “Come with me,” Ky offered again. “You can’t stay here forever, and I’m not leaving without you.”

  “Who said anything about leaving?”

  Ky sighed. “You’re making this harder than it has to be, Hunt. Instead of us both pressing forward, which makes sense, I have to keep coming back to this spot in the river because you won’t move. How do you expect to get rescued if you won’t try?”

  “I can’t see,” Hunter reminded him. “How do you expect me to climb sheer stone?”

  “It’s not sheer. There are plenty of foot and handholds. I’ll help you. You’ll see.”

  “No. I won’t,” Hunter hissed, tapping an index finger to his temple. “Blind as a bat. Handicapped asshole coming through, remember?”

  He didn’t need to fall again, either. Hunter wouldn’t admit it to Ky, but he’d gotten as twitchy as an FNG, as in the fucking new guy in his squad. The river he could hear. He knew where it was, and what it would do to him. But this planet had already proved it hid some ungodly drop-offs. He couldn’t afford to make another mistake like that last one and drop into Dante’s final level of Hell. Uh-uh.

  When Ky took off to play Daniel Boone, Hunter didn’t do much more than hunker down and wait for him to return. Besides, Ky was gone for hours at a time, and what good had it done? He’d found a ledge. Big fucking deal.

  “Hunt.” Ky wouldn’t let up. “We need to stay together. I’m worried I might not find my way back one of these times. You could be stuck in here forever.”

  “Wait a minute,” Hunter growled. “Are you telling me I’m holding you up? You’d be better off without me?”

  “No, but I don’t intend to sit down here and wait to die, either.”

  The river faded to background noise compared to the roar inside Hunter’s head. Had this pipsqueak just called him out? It felt like it, but the worst part? Ky was right and Hunter knew it. He swallowed hard, fighting to get his tough-guy persona back. Fear of falling into that maelstrom of a river had stopped Hunter cold, but blindness was a deeper kind of fear. It made him as helpless as a baby, and it rattled him to his core. It shamed him. Tough guy Hunter, scared? Hell, yeah.

  “There’s a pair of conjoined stalagmites at my six,” Ky continued patiently. “I always start there, swing right, and head west, at least it feels like west to me. Anyway, it’s to your right. I figure the underground river’s got to flow the same direction as it did upstairs. The Amazon was running west to east, wasn’t it?”

  “It was,” Hunter grumbled.

  “So heading west ought to take us uphill.”

  “What’s uphill?”

  “Hell, I don’t know,” Ky admitted. “I just don’t want to go down. Up seems like we’ll run into a tunnel or chimney or… or something, maybe a way out. There are only two ways we’re leaving alive. Either we climb up the first hole in the ceiling that we run into, or we go back into the river and swim for our lives and hope it eventually dumps us into the Amazon.”

  “Go back into the river? Hell, it’s a death trap. It could go on for miles. We won’t have to worry about being dumped into the Amazon because we’ll be dead.” Everything out of Hunter’s mouth sounded mean and impatient. Condescending. He couldn’t make it stop.

  “But what if we find a break in the topography that leads to a way out?”

  Hunter clenched his fist, wanting to hit something besides stone.

  “Do you feel better now?”

  “No!”

  “Me either. The point is we’re still breathing, Hunt. There’s still hope. Lee is coming.”

  Hunter twisted around to stare at the location of Ky’s voice. Are you kidding me? Lee is coming? What nonsense. Was Ky insane? No one was coming. Couldn’t he get that through his thick skull? They were lost in the last place anyone would think to look—under-fucking-ground!

  “You and I have been in worse spots,” Ky murmured, his voice firm. “Lots worse, Hunt. You know you have.”

  Hunter turned away. Ky was fixing to go down Memory Lane again, only it wasn’t one of those nostalgic trips you took pictures of.

  “I wanted to give up and die once. As god-awful as it was in Nizari’s torture chamber, I still learned one thing.”

  Hunter stilled. Ky and Lee Hart were the only two men he knew who’d personally survived torture, and both by the same twisted Taliban bastard in Afghanistan. Nizari. The Taliban banker. Hunter had seen the scars—at least the ones on their arms. Neither covered them up anymore. He had to admit, he was in awe of men who had survived what they had.

  “The night Lee found me was a lot darker than this.” Ky’s voice took on that far-awa
y quality. “Nizari had a new kid on his team. He needed practice. The jackass worked me over good. I thought that was who’d opened my cell door that last time, that he’d come back to dish out more of the same crap. I was so fucking scared I thought I could smell the blow torch in his hand.”

  Ky drew in a shuddering breath that ended in a groan. “Hell, I was blind then too, so I know how hard this is. That’s when I sensed Eden, but honest to God, I thought I’d lost my mind when she came to me like she did. The point is, Hunt, the guy in my cell that last time wasn’t there to stick me or burn me. It was Lee. He showed up and he saved me.”

  The poor guy’s breath came in short huffs as he relived his time in Taliban Hell. “And you know what Lee did, right there in the middle of that stinking five-by-five toilet they kept me in? He took me down off that gawddamned hook, Hunt, and he hugged me like I was his little brother, and he talked to me, and he promised he’d come back for me. He promised, Hunt. He gave me a knife so I could defend myself while he was gone. God, I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t know it then, but Nizari had Tess, too.”

  Tess, as in the woman Lee married. Hunter could barely swallow. This part of the nightmare he didn’t know.

  “Lee gave me something before he left, Hunt. He gave me hope. That’s the lesson I learned that night. To hang on. To never quit. Listen, buddy, I don’t know what’s going to happen to us. I just know. I can feel it in my gut. Somehow. Someway. Lee is coming back for us. He did it before, and he’ll do it again. If you’re still with me, well...” Ky sniffed, and that was the lowest blow. This trip down Memory Lane had hurt him to share.

  Hunter blew out a long, deep sigh. Ky had just offered what every soldier, jarhead, and sailor did for his fallen brethren—a hand up. Damned if it wasn’t time to man up, blind or not. Hunter seriously doubted Lee was coming, but point well taken. Ky’s heartfelt persuasion made sense. They did need to keep together. There was safety in numbers.

  But tough guys didn’t ask for help. Hunter hadn’t in years, not unless he was already pulling a full load and barking orders at others to do the same. “We might at least find out where these bats are getting in,” he replied begrudgingly.

  “It’d be nice,” Ky agreed, his voice steadier.

  The damned ball was back in Hunter’s court. It really was time to grow a pair. Face his fear. Take the risk. Maybe fall again. Maybe die. What the hell? Wasn’t that what Marines did? Keep on going until they dropped? “When are we leaving?” he asked.

  “Right after breakfast.” Which meant right then, since there was no breakfast unless a guy wanted to suck on dirt.

  Hunter’s stomach pinched in response. The slim possibility of eating again was another good incentive. He squared his shoulders and pushed up from the stone floor one last time. “Are you ready then?”

  “You bet.”

  “Lead on.” Hunter groped through the inky darkness, instantly meeting Ky’s bare shoulder. The guy was already facing away as if he’d known all along he could get Hunter to follow. The shit.

  Ky clapped a hand over Hunter’s. “I’ll get you to the wall. There are plenty of handholds once you get there. It’s easy-going at first. Once you get a few feet up, keep the starboard stalagmite at your six for counterbalance. That way you won’t fall. Keep talking so I know where you are, okay?”

  “Copy that,” Hunter said, shuffling slowly only to lose touch with Ky right off the bat. He lurched forward, out-of-control panic hurrying him despite the fact that Ky couldn’t have gotten more than a foot away.

  Ky halted until Hunter made contact again. “You good?”

  Hunter allowed another grumble, but swallowed some of his pride. It went down over the lump in his throat. Felt like his heart. “This is going to be a damned slow walk.”

  “What’s the line about the journey of a thousand miles begins—”

  “With one long drop into Hell,” Hunter bit out.

  “Yeah, well, that first step was a killer,” Ky admitted, “but the only way out is up.”

  “Walk a mile in my shoes,” Hunter volleyed right back with another worthless adage.

  And so it began, the climb away from the river that had tried to kill him.

  Ky’s advice was sound. The wall was a conglomeration of wannabe mounds of wet stone pushing upward to meet the dripping stalactites directly above them. Mother Nature didn’t seem to have a good handle on the whole patience concept. Now that his socks and boots were dry, getting a foothold had become easier.

  “You have a girlfriend?” Ky asked, his voice bouncing an echo from somewhere overhead as the sound of the river below grew quieter.

  “Yes. How’s Eden?” Hunter declined to offer further personal details. The thought of never seeing Merry again hurt too much.

  “The last time I saw her and Kyler, she was good.” Ky’s voice dropped a decibel. “She had a funny look in her eye the morning I left. The baby’s been sick. She hates overseas tours.”

  “All women do,” Hunter offered. He hadn’t left a girlfriend behind on any of his tours, much less a wife and son. Compassion for what his partner was going through flared to life. Ky’d been stuck in this cavern longer than Hunter. It had to be killing him to think of Eden and his boy.

  “She’s psychic, you know,” Ky said. “Eden didn’t say anything, but I knew she was worried this time. I told her it was no big deal, that I’d be back before she knew it. That this op was easy.”

  Hunter grunted. He’d thought the same thing.

  “She couldn’t seem to let go when we said goodbye, and she cried.” Ky’s tone dropped another pitch, and all Hunter could think of was the stars in Meredith’s eyes after she’d climbed out of that tree. She’d glowed as if she’d been lit up inside, like her heart was shining out of those baby blues. He hadn’t wanted to let her go, either.

  “We’re going home,” he offered, determined that two could play this encouragement game. He was willing to give hope a shot. For Ky’s sake. For Eden. For Meredith.

  Ky grunted. “We’re here. Lift your arms over your head and feel this.”

  Hunter complied. A ceiling of cold, wet stone met his fingertips, then his palm. “This the end of the road?”

  “Not exactly. It’s only a foot wide at this point and it runs for as far as I can see, which isn’t far.” Ky latched onto Hunter’s extended hand. “Now feel here. Get a good hold.”

  Hunter reached to his right, fingering the edge of the ceiling. “What’s this?”

  “The lip of the ledge we’re going to be walking on.”

  “Shit,” Hunter hissed. “It’s narrow. You’ve been on it?”

  “It’s narrow right here, but yeah, I’ve been up there.”

  Hunter swallowed hard. How the hell was he going to get onto that ledge? He’d have to dangle over free air to do it. What kind of crap had Ky gotten him into?

  Ky’s palm clapped Hunter’s shoulder. “You oughta see the look on your face right now.”

  No wonder! “It’s over my head. And it’s narrow.” He bit his lip rather than say: I can’t. But damn. This would be a leap of faith into pitch black nothing.

  “It’s narrow because it’s just a lip, Hunt. Don’t worry. We’re not climbing onto it just yet. It’s a guide for now. A handrail over your head. About thirty feet ahead, you’ll notice the path we’re on inclines. In another forty or fifty feet, the way forward joins with this ledge and turns into a stair-like terrace. The steps are uneven as hell, but we won’t be climbing a wall anymore and we’ll keep moving up.”

  Hunter gulped. He’d always been one of those ‘buck up’ guys in the Corps. After failing every physical challenge when he’d first enlisted, he’d made it a point to never show weakness. He’d pushed himself until he was not only tougher than most, but toughest of all, top dog and damned proud of it. Humility was something he’d left in the past with poetry, prose, and Meredith. Having to admit he wasn’t as good as Ky at rock climbing wasn’t his forte.

  “You still
okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” But then he had to admit, “Now that I know I won’t have to play Spiderman and hang upside-down over the river.”

  “Me too,” Ky agreed. “The first time I saw this ledge, I thought it was a dead end. I thought what a cruel joke to get this close and not be able to get out of here, but then I kept going. Glad I did. You lead for a while.”

  Hunter balked. Lead? Me? A blind guy?

  Ky nudged his right. “Take it slow. The path is narrow, but the way is clear.”

  “You quoting scripture now?” Hunter groused.

  “Not so much.” Ky leaned into him, forcing Hunter to move. Of all things, he was learning to trust his right-hand man the hard way. Shuffling to his right brought his foot to what felt like a ninety-degree angle. Lifting that stubborn foot, Hunter climbed his first step. Then another.

  Okay, so Ky was right again. The graduated steps made progress easy, but damn. They were only about eight inches wide with a drop off at his right if that updraft meant what Hunter thought it meant. He used the rock edge overhead as a guide until it narrowed and joined the path he walked. By then, he was out of breath and possibly standing at the edge of a cavern. Cautiously, he lowered to his butt and—Oh, hell no. His feet dangled over nothing but air. Not wanting to look like a sissy, Hunter leaned back and planted his elbows firmly on the rock behind him, his palms splayed flat. Just in case.

  Ky settled alongside, breathing hard. “What’d I tell you?”

  “What’s out there? What am I not seeing?” Hunter asked quietly.

  “You’re missing a majestic view, my friend. Those glowing things on the ceiling look like stars, and I can’t hear the river anymore, can you? That alone is a relief. It’s still dark, but the ceiling’s a deep bluish, purplish hue. If we weren’t trapped belowground—and if you were Eden, I might call this place heavenly.”

  “But we are getting higher.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  For the first time in days, Hunter almost felt—hopeful.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO