“Yeah, only...” Every mushroom hadn’t fallen. Hunter rolled the last tender edible between his index finger and thumb. He held it up to his nose and sniffed it. The thing sure smelled like a mushroom. He blew the dirt off and set just the tip of his tongue to it. Tasted like—dirt. He licked his lips, hungrier than he’d ever been in his life and desperate enough to do something stupid. Fifty-fifty, remember?
He rationalized. “Think about it. Ky. We could’ve stayed at ground level, but look where we are now because we took a calculated risk.”
“Rock climbing’s a little safer than eating mushrooms that might be poisonous.”
“Is it?” Hunter turned toward Ky’s voice. “You gave me a choice down there: Move or lay down and die. Now we have another choice: Eat and maybe live, or starve and surely die. I’m not seeing much difference between then and now.”
“No, Hunt,” Ky declared adamantly. “I’d never let you risk your life like that for me. It’s not worth the chance. We keep moving. We don’t eat until we know for sure what we’re eating won’t kill us.” He brushed the last mushroom away.
“You made me drop it,” Hunter grumbled, watching it disappear into the darkness below. It glowed. A tiny little star dropping slowly out of sight. Hmmm, falling star. Hmmm.
“I can see!”
Ky clutched his wrist. “Really? Hunt, really? You can see?”
An odd thing called a smile cracked the dry skin on Hunter’s cheeks. “Yeah, man. No kidding. Maybe those were magic mushrooms after all.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, rubbing his bleary eyes. Gradually, the cavern came into shadowy but sharper view. The ledge he was on, too. Instinctively, he backed away from the edge and into the wall behind him. “Shit, we’re high.”
Ky fist bumped his bicep. “What’d I tell you? Keep holding on and something good’s bound to happen.”
“Yeah, well…” Hunter swallowed hard. One misstep would’ve sent him to his death. He focused on Ky’s grinning face. Nope. Not going to think about the height or falling or…
Damn. He squinted, but couldn’t detect an opposing wall. If there was one.
Ky thumped his arm. “Look up.”
Hunter followed Ky’s blurry pointing finger to the ceiling, which was a lot closer than he’d suspected. More clumps of roots dangled downward, some dotted with phosphorescent fungi, but beyond those roots? What looked like an earthen, as in a no kidding, dirt ceiling.
“You’re right, Hunt. Plants point up; roots point down.”
Hunter scrambled to his feet but kept a palm flat to the wall to steady his equilibrium. Now was not the time for taking chances. “Trees are on the other ends of those roots.”
Ky’s smile about split his face. “What are you gonna do when you get out of here?”
“Kiss the first person I see,” Hunter declared emphatically, but then he really looked at his friend. The man’s once bright amber eyes were sunken and his cheeks were hollow. His hair was messy, and a thick, short beard covered his chin and throat. Hunter reached out a hand and squeezed his buddy’s thin bicep. My God. His body was cannibalizing itself.
“Are you… are you really okay?” Ky surely didn’t look it. Skeletal maybe.
“I am now. Come on. Let’s keep moving.”
Hunter let the lie pass knowing he probably looked as bad. Re-energized, they pressed forward. The ledge had widened to a path they could walk side by side. Having his sight back made an incredible difference in Hunter’s morale. Thinking of Meredith didn’t hurt either. He turned back into a leader, every step more certain.
Any minute now, they’d find a way out of here.
After hours, his enthusiasm lagged. Real spider webs hung between massive clumps of dark chandelier roots. Real spiders too. Only these eight-legged creatures didn’t glow. They were just big. And fast. They dropped out of nowhere. Or maybe they jumped. He batted another palm-sized creature off his head. “These attack spiders are getting old.”
“They’re a good sign though,” Ky said. “Spiders catch flies and other bugs. We’ve got to be getting closer to the surface. If there are enough bugs to keep the spiders alive, they can keep us alive too.”
Hunter kept his mouth shut. Close only worked with horseshoes and hand grenades. It wouldn’t mean anything if they couldn’t catch a break and find a way out of this cavern.
“You ever eat a spider?”
“No, and I’m not going to start. Tell me more about Eden and Kyler,” Hunter said, hoping for distraction amongst the increasing webs. Some looked like tunnels; some looked like nets stretched from the wall to who knew where. That monstrous spider in the Lord of the Rings trilogy came to mind. Look what happened to Frodo? Wrapped in a silk cocoon, saved for a late midnight snack. Goosebumps wriggled up Hunter’s bare arms.
A soft sigh hissed out of Ky. “What’s there to tell? Eden and Kyler are everything. We named him after Lee Hart, you know. His full name’s Kyler Lee. You ever see Wonder Woman?”
Hunter smiled. Yes. He’d seen Wonder Woman, and her name was Meredith.
Ky rattled on, and Hunter let him talk. Down below, there hadn’t been a single web. What else might live closer to the surface? Rats? Mice? Snakes? Another smile cracked his lips at the memory of Meredith’s blood-curdling shriek when he’d killed that first snake. That woman had a good set of lungs. And she was fast. She’d almost made him believe in time travel, the way she’d been standing beside him one second, then throwing a hysterical fit behind him the next. Hell, she’d almost made him believe in a lot of things. And that one night in the tree? That hot sex they had? The love he’d seen in her eyes?
He stumbled, his mind topside when a flurry of bats engulfed him and Ky. This flock didn’t just bump. This was a full-on assault, as if the bats were funneled through a narrow opening and all trying to get in at once. Either that or they were scared and didn’t care what they hit.
Hunter gave up fighting them off. He turned his back to the horde and covered his face and head with his arms and hands, ducking to avoid contact with the rabies-carrying little beasts. “Shit,” he hissed as one bat body after another pummeled his back, shoulders and neck.
“I never liked Batman,” Ky grumbled, his voice nearly lost amongst the high-pitched whistles and squeaks.
At last, the onslaught diminished. Hunter scraped the creepy feel of the flying creatures off his arms and the back of his neck. “That’s it. Those bats are getting in somehow, and I’m going to find out where.”
Ky brushed his hands over his bare arms and chuckled.
“What’s so damned funny?”
Another chuckle. “It’s about time. You sound like yourself again.”
Hunter growled. “Move it, Winchester. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
As promised, Meredith, Courtney, and Bear paid Eric another visit. His condition hadn’t improved, so she kept the visit short. The best part was running into Seth on their way out. By the time they were on their way to ground level, she knew Hunter hadn’t been located yet, but Alex had called in more men and machinery.
“The boss is one determined guy,” Seth declared. “When he says he’s gonna find Hunter, you can take that to the bank.”
“I hope so. It’s been over a week.”
“Is this your son?” Seth nonchalantly handed Courtney a big silver coin.
“Yes, this is Courtney,” she answered. “Can you tell Mr. McCray thank you?”
“Ah-huh. Thanks,” Courtney mumbled, his eyes aglow. “Look, Mama. I got a dollar.”
“It’s one of my challenge coins from the Army,” Seth explained as he crouched to her son’s level and tapped Bear’s black plastic nose. “I see you brought a buddy with you. Good thinking. What’s his name?”
“Bear.” An attack of shyness wiggled through Courtney’s little body. It wasn’t often he let an adult get this close without hiding behind her.
“I bet you’re the kind of guy who takes good care of his mama too, aren’t you?”
&nbs
p; Another “Uh-huh,” and a wiggle.
Seth looked up at Meredith. “How about you? Are you hanging in there, Mom?”
The gentle question caught her by surprise. For the first time she noticed his eyes were the same color as Hunter’s, a deep, dark coffee brown with caramel sprinkles. Delicious eyes. Tender eyes. A quiet confidence radiated from him.
“I’m good,” she replied, wishing she were more than that. “How about you? You went through more than I did.”
“Shucks, no need to worry about me. I’m headed back down south in the morning,” he admitted as he rose to his feet.
“To search for Hunter?”
“Yes, ma’am. To see if we can find both Hunter and Ky.”
“I need to come with you,” she said, her heart torn between her son and the man she loved.
“No, you don’t.” Seth nodded at the little boy standing between them. “Your first job is here. You take good care of my buddy and Bear. Let me find Hunter and Ky.”
Courtney’s face lit up. “I is your buddy?”
“You bet. You and Bear are both my buddies.” Seth tousled the boy’s hair, but his gaze drifted to her. “Don’t worry. We’ve got a few months of good weather left. We’ll find them.”
She cringed. Would it take that long?
“Anyway, I’ve got to pack. I will be in touch.” Seth offered a half-salute to Courtney. “You take good care of your mama, okay soldier?”
Courtney offered a left-handed salute right back, his other hand still hanging on tight to Bear and his prize for being that good soldier. “I will,” he promised. “Bye, buddy.”
Meredith could’ve cried. Seth, a complete stranger, had just made her son feel like a man, something his own father had never attempted. Not even once. Eddy was such a loser.
She lifted Courtney to her hip and made it all the way to her car before she noticed the flaming red vehicle parked across the busy street. Eddy Welch waved, a big grin on his face like she should be happy to see him.
“Darn it,” she cussed as she unlocked her car and strapped Courtney in.
“Aw, Mama, you sweared,” Courtney scolded quietly, Seth’s coin still clutched tightly in his right hand. “And Bear heard it, too.”
“I know,” she apologized. “Mama’s sorry. I shouldn’t say words like that, should I?” If he only knew what she was thinking.
“Nope.” His eyes lit up, but he’d lost interest. “Look it. A motor scooter!”
Meredith gritted her teeth, blew out an impatient sigh, and turned to face Eddy as the biker roared by, in the hospital zone no less. By then he’d climbed out of his pricey sports car but ducked back inside to pull out the latest fad that every little boy on the planet wanted. How he’d gotten the bright red trike with monster black plastic wheels in the front of his snazzy little car was another thing altogether. The toy must’ve been riding shotgun.
She gritted her teeth. The big shitty grin on his face didn’t help her parental position one bit, especially when he focused on Courtney and exclaimed, “I bought this for you!”
Of course, her three-year-old promptly forgot everything she’d taught him about stranger danger. “Mama! Look! It’s for me!” he squealed.
Meredith crossed her arms, blocking Eddy’s view of the child he thought he could buy. “How dare you? What do you think you’re doing, showing up with that instead of talking about it with me first?”
He turned his typical megawatt smile on her. It used to work. Not today. “Just giving my boy a birthday present.”
“It’s not his birthday.”
Eddy shrugged. “I know. Geez, do you think I forgot my own kid’s birthday?”
“Only for the last three years.” Her foot started tapping. “What’s this really about?”
“Repentance, Meredith,” he admitted. “It’s a late birthday present. I’ve come to ask for your forgiveness. That’s all.”
Her foot tapped harder. Darn, he was good, but he was lying through his teeth.
He set the trike on the street as traffic rolled by. “I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve been the good parent, and I get it. I’ve been the absentee father. If you want me to leave again, I will. But before I go, you need to know that I meant what I said. Look at this.” He drew a sheaf of folded papers out of his inner suit pocket. “I had my lawyer draw it up last night. Got him out of bed to do it, but he can stand the overtime. I pay him enough.”
Meredith accepted the documents. The first page took her breath. Right there in black and white. Eddy Welch was worth eighty-three-point-one-billion dollars. She swallowed hard. There were a lot of zeroes after that eighty-three-point-one. This man was more powerful than she’d suspected. She’d had no idea.
The document went on to itemize his assets, a multiplicity of banking institutions and various investments, but her eyes kept pulling back to—eighty-three-point-one-billion dollars. And all this time, Courtney and me have been living in a low rent neighborhood and eating macaroni and cheese.
Not that she hated her tidy apartment. She didn’t. It was small, but clean. She liked her neighbors. They were decent hard working people. She’d made good money at McCormack Industries, and with her next raise, she’d be able to afford something nicer if she wanted to move. But wow. This was some serious cashola.
Her heart pounded at the top line of the document: I bequeath to my only living heir, Courtney Flynn, the whole of my estate in the event of my untimely death.
She leaned her hip against the car, her head spinning, but her heart not yet believing. At least he’d gotten Courtney’s legal name right, but this was a scam. It had to be. Eddy wanted something. That was how he worked—dazzle his friends with bullshit and rob them blind when they turned their backs. If Courtney could’ve heard what naughty words she was thinking right then, he’d remind her again about swearing.
“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve struggled to make ends meet?” You pompous ass. “Your son and I have been living on hand-me-downs and tuna casserole. Why didn’t you go back to court to increase your child support if you care so much? Why now?”
His lashes dropped. “I’m sorry, Meredith. I’m only doing what a father should do for his son, what I should’ve done all along. I can’t change the past, but I can make sure that Courtney has everything he needs from now on. Give me a chance to make things right. That’s all I’m asking. Read the second page.”
Swallowing hard, she flipped to page two, her hand shaking. What? Courtney would begin receiving a monthly stipend payable to her as custodial parent, beginning in seven days. No limits. No qualifications. No strong-arming.
“No,” she managed to spit out of her dry throat. “This is too much. We don’t need—”
“It has nothing to do with need, Meredith. It has to do with what’s right. I get it now. You’ve proved yourself a thousand times over. You, a single mother, are the better parent. You’ve made more than a decent life for your child while I’ve done nothing but send a monthly check. Let me make amends.” He looked down the street as he raked a slender hand through his dark hair. “It’s obvious you don’t need me in your life. I get it. If you’d prefer, I can save everything in a trust until he’s of age. It’s your call. I bow to your command.”
She didn’t know what to say. He’d let her struggle for years with the minimum child support, and yes, she could’ve taken him to court for more, but she hadn’t. Of course, if she’d known then what she knew now…
Eddy was richer than most of America, maybe the world. But bottom line, she’d never wanted his money. To hit him up for more child support had always seemed an admission that she couldn’t make it without the almighty Eddy Welch in her life. Not so. She could, and by God, she had.
“No,” she said again, handing the portfolio back. “Give it to charity. Heck, give it to someone else. We’ve done fine without you. I don’t want it and Courtney doesn’t need it.”
“Okay.” Eddy slid the document into his jacket and picked up the tr
ike by its handlebars. “But will you explain to him when he’s older how you turned him into a pauper?”
Courtney whined from inside the car, kicking the back of her seat in excitement. “Mama! Kin I keep it? Me and Bear wanna see it!”
“Come on,” Eddy muttered, his voice low and confidential. “This is a big decision. It deserves more consideration. Why don’t you sleep on it? Let me take you to lunch. At least let me give him his present.”
She gulped. A plastic trike was one thing, but the world—something else entirely.
“Just lunch. Just the trike. That’s all.”
He nodded, his gaze on Courtney again. Eddy almost looked—honest.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“What the hell is that?” Hunter squinted, the mass of roots and spider webs stretching upward and beyond him brighter than the others. It didn’t just glisten with glow-in-the-dark fungi anymore. This bunch was bigger. Animal-sized bigger. Maybe lizard. Dinosaur? Dragon?
That was what weeks without food and not enough water did to a guy.
The farther up they’d climbed, the less condensation on the walls. The air turned more humid with every faltering step, yet neither man’s body could produce a drop of sweat. Literally running on empty, they wouldn’t last much longer.
He scrubbed the hallucination away and looked down at his feet to catch his balance. Dizziness plagued him. His dry eyes stung. His lips were peeling and chapped, and damn, he was thirsty.
Ky grunted behind him. They were both on their last legs. Had been for… hell, Hunter didn’t know anymore. Time was a non-player in this never-ending journey to nowhere. He’d lost track of it the day he fell.
The lighted web in the ceiling began another lackadaisical twirl.
“It’s gotta be a spider nest,” Hunter muttered, but his gut told him differently. He looked again, his neck extended forward, like that helped him see better. Not so much.
Ky dropped to his butt with a weary groan. “I’m dizzy, man. I need to hold still for a minute. Everything’s spinning.”
Hunter (In the Company of Snipers Book 14) Page 28