“Maybe I ought to do this alone.”
“We’ve already been through that.”
He sighed. “You’re right. Okay, back to basics. I’m satisfied with the line. It’s in good shape, light colored, won’t float. We both stay on it at all times, even if the visibility is one hundred percent. If the water clouds up in a hurry and one of us doesn’t have hold of the line, we’re in trouble.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not about to let go of the line.” Since Jed would be going in first, he would have control of the reel of nylon line they would use. The line would be tied off at the cave entrance and would be reeled out as Jed swam along the corridors. It not only marked the path back to the entrance, it would be the only means of finding the entrance if something went seriously wrong. The one piece of emergency equipment Amy had thought to use on her first dive in the caves was the reel and line LePage had brought along. She had clung to it with a death grip as she’d frantically kicked her way back out to the entrance pool.
Jed sat back on his haunches. “I want you to draw me a diagram of what you can remember about the caves and also what you remember about that little chart you said LePage had with him that night. I don’t suppose you kept that map, did you?”
Amy shook her head. “No. I stuffed it into the box with the emeralds and the letters and the photos. It was just one more piece of evidence I was trying to hide. It wasn’t very elaborate, Jed. It showed the first few feet of the main entrance tunnel and I think it marked a couple of side tunnels, but that was about all. When Wyman hid the box the first time, he apparently put it close to the pool entrance, just inside the first branching tunnel. At least that’s how it looked on that little chart.”
“But that’s not where you put it when you hid it?”
“No. I wanted to put it as far back in the cave as I dared. I wanted that box to stay hidden forever. It was all I could think about that night.” Amy looked at him. “Jed, if we do find it, we’ve got to destroy everything inside. The letters, the photos, everything.”
“We’ll take care of the dangerous stuff,” he promised. “That’s the whole point of this little expedition.”
Neither of them mentioned the half dozen emeralds. As far as Amy was concerned, they were inevitably linked with the rest of the box’s contents and therefore came under the heading “dangerous stuff.” But she wasn’t certain Jed viewed them in the same light.
Jed got to his feet once more and walked over to the table he had been using to sketch his latest bird cage design. He picked up a piece of paper and handed it to Amy, along with a mechanical pencil.
“I want you to sketch as much as you can remember about those caves, honey. Start from the entrance. You said there was a small amount of breathing space above the waterline just inside the entrance?”
Amy nodded, remembering. She reached for the paper and pencil. “It doesn’t extend more than a couple of feet. After that the cave angles downward slightly and it’s completely filled with water.” She glanced up at him anxiously as she started to draw. “I’m not very good at this kind of thing. Drawing, I mean. My sense of perspective is poor. The last art class I had was in third grade.”
“Just do the best you can.” He crouched beside her, peering intently at the blank sheet of paper as she started a sketchy rendering of the rocky pool that formed the entrance of the cave.
Amy was painstakingly drawing the dark, yawning mouth when the fragile lead of the mechanical pencil snapped. Patiently Jed took the pencil from her, adjusted the lead and handed it back. Without a word, Amy went back to work. Jed watched her for a moment and then shook his head.
“Don’t draw it from that angle. You’re trying to sketch it as though you were swimming into it. Give me a cutaway view. You know, from the side.” He momentarily took the pencil back from her and showed her what he meant.
“I told you I wasn’t very good at his kind of drawing,” Amy complained, retrieving the pencil. She started over again, eventually producing a gently sloping corridor that twisted suddenly to the right. Uncomfortably aware of Jed gazing over her shoulder, she attempted to sketch in what she could remember of the two branching caves she had noted that night.
“How far did you swim before you passed the first side cave?” Jed asked.
“I don’t remember. I wasn’t paying attention to that kind of detail. I just recall seeing the dark opening on my left and thinking that it wasn’t far enough. I swam past the second side cave a short time later.”
“How much later? A few seconds? A couple of minutes?” “Jed, I don’t remember! I just kept swimming, thinking I had to go deeper into the cave before I hid the box.”
“All right, all right, don’t get upset.”
“I’m not upset,” she answered, her anger flaring.
He cocked one dark brow in mocking skepticism but said nothing. “Keep going. Do you remember anything else about the caves? Stalactites? Stalagmites?”
Amy had a fleeting mental image of jagged swords hanging from the ceiling and thrusting upward from the floor. Her mouth tightened. “Yes. The main passage was fairly wide but the interior was very jagged and uneven. The caves were formed by lava flows and later filled with sea water.”
Jed tapped the paper. “That means we’ll have to be extra careful about snarling the equipment or accidentally kicking an obstruction.”
Amy went back to her drawing, frowning intently now as she tried to push aside the nightmare images and reduce her recollections to a simple sketch. “After I’d passed the second passage I knew I couldn’t swim much farther. There wasn’t a lot of air left in the tank.”
Jed’s look was grim. “Don’t remind me.”
“It was shortly after that second side cave that I turned into a third branching cave. The entrance seemed wider than the others. I went a short distance and put down the box, turned around and swam back out.”
“You’re sure you only passed two side passages before you swam into the one where you hid the box?”
“I think so, but Jed, you know what it’s like in a cave. Darker than midnight. I only had a single light and it wasn’t a very big one. It’s possible I just didn’t notice a couple of small side passages. I had no intention of ever trying to get that box back out of the cave. I wasn’t exactly trying to chart the place for future reference.”
He ignored the sharpness in her voice. “I know. Okay, we’ll start searching side passages after we’ve passed the two you remember.” He straightened, reaching down to tug her up beside him. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He searched her face for a moment, then nodded abruptly without saying anything. He turned to collect the diving equipment that had been set out on the floor.
* * *
Amy tried very hard not to look into the depths of the entrance pool as she climbed over the jagged rocks and into the water. But her imagination combined with her too-vivid memories, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the place where LePage’s body had lain. Memories of his dead stare illuminated by the light that awful night crowded too close. She shook herself free of them, reminding herself that she had to concentrate on the job at hand. Jed’s life as well as her own could easily depend on how alert she was during the dive.
In the full light of day, she could easily see the floor of the rocky pool. Getting into the water wasn’t nearly as treacherous as it was at night. But as soon as they put on their fins and swam into the dark, gaping mouth of the cave, the warm, clarifying light of the sun became useless. The darkest of all possible nights was waiting just inside the entrance.
The intensity of the darkness was increased by the fact that one had to swim through it. The water gave the utter blackness another dimension.
The dive lights provided a narrow path through the water, a corridor of visibility that cut a swath of safety through the midnight depths. When Amy glanced to the side, down or back, the lighted path disappeared, leaving only the endless, watery bla
ckness.
Amy kept a firm hold on the nylon line Jed let out from the reel in his hand. The line had been tied off around a rock in the entrance pool and again just inside the passageway. Jed paused every so often to tie it off again as he swam. Whenever he had to touch a projection inside the cave he did so gingerly, his cautious movements reflecting his respect for the fragile nature of the cavern surfaces.
Amy listened to the sound of her own breathing and was satisfied with the relatively normal rate. She couldn’t deny she was somewhat tense, but she was in control of herself. She tried to assume an analytical frame of mind, forcing herself to concentrate on the details of the passage.
The first thing she realized was that her memory for the cave’s details was exceedingly poor. She recalled the jagged teeth of the stalactites and stalagmites, for instance, but she hadn’t remembered that there were so many of them. The cave was wider near the entrance than it had seemed that night in October. Of course, there was more illumination on this dive. Perhaps that accounted for the different perspective.
Visibility was excellent along the beams of light. Occasionally tiny pale creatures appeared suspended in the alien sun of Amy’s dive light. Amy guessed they were small shrimp, or some other sea creature that had adapted completely to the endless night. She knew if she captured one and examined it she would undoubtedly discover it was blind. Senses other than sight were crucial to survival in a world of complete darkness.
Ahead of her Jed paused. Amy slowed, assuming he was going to tie off the line again. Instead he signaled her to swim closer. When she did so he aimed the beam of his light against the left wall of the passage. An entrance to another corridor came into view. Jed held up one finger, silently asking if this was the first of the two branching caves Amy recalled. She nodded. Jed turned and began swimming forward again.
Amy flicked the beam of her light down the corridor to her left as she swam past. She suppressed a shudder and heard the regulator record the increased tempo of her breathing. Taking a firm grip on herself she tried to relax. She was still in control.
A little farther on, Jed paused again, this time pointing out a second side cave. Amy nodded and again Jed went forward, the nylon lifeline spinning out behind him.
When Jed paused at a third side passage, Amy stared at it uneasily. According to her memory, this should be the one she had gone down that night with the box, but it looked different. The entrance seemed narrower. And where was the bend in the passage she thought she recalled? She looked at Jed and conveyed her uncertainty. He acknowledged it and turned into the passage. It was just wide enough to admit a diver and his tank. Amy swam in behind Jed.
Beyond the cramped entrance, the cave passage broadened to more comfortable proportions. There was room to turn around easily. Amy swung her light in a searching arc, finding nothing familiar. Surely after so many nightmares she should remember the passage fairly well. Perhaps it was the wrong one, after all. She could have easily missed seeing the narrow side entrance that night and instead gone on to another branching cave.
She was about to signal to Jed that this wasn’t the right cavern when her dive light picked up an odd reflection near the roof of the passage. Instead of being able to see the jagged surface of the roof, all she could see was a sort of flat, silvery mirror. On a hunch, she swam up to it, aware that Jed was watching.
Cautiously Amy put her head through the flat reflection and discovered her hunch had been correct. She surfaced to find herself in air instead of water. Jed’s light wavered beneath her as he swam to join her.
Amy spit out her regulator and shoved back her mask as Jed surfaced beside her. She was intrigued in spite of herself by the discovery.
“Take a look at this, Jed.” She bounced her light off the portion of the cavern that was above water. It wasn’t more than ten feet across, but there was a ledge jutting out just above the water line. Amy swam toward it.
“I assume this isn’t the cavern where you hid the box?” Jed’s voice was tinged with impatience.
“No, but isn’t this wild? Who would have guessed there was a breathing space down here? It must have been created when these caves were first flooded. This cavern didn’t fill completely with water. It doesn’t smell too bad. Maybe there are some fissures in the rocks overhead that let in a little fresh air.”
“Amy, we’re not here to explore these caves. Let’s get going.” Jed started to lower his mask.
“Just a second,” Amy called, “I want to see how broad that ledge is.” She swam over to it and raised her hand to grasp the edge of rock.
“Watch where you put your hands. You can’t see what’s up there.”
“There’s nothing up here,” Amy assured him as she used her grip to hoist herself a little higher in the water until she could just barely see over the edge of rock.
She swept her light across the surface of the ledge and found herself staring into the empty eyesockets of a human skull.
Amy’s scream ricocheted off the cavern walls, filling the small space and echoing horribly.
“Amy! Oh, God…” Jed kicked forward, grabbing for her as she shoved herself away from the ledge and floundered awkwardly in the water. “Amy, what is it? What’s wrong?”
He braced her with one hand, using his other to keep himself afloat. He flashed his light toward the ledge.
“A skeleton, Jed. Up there on the ledge. It’s Wyman,” Amy gasped. “It must be.”
“Are you okay?” he demanded.
Amy nodded mutely, still struggling to steady her nerves. Jed released her and swam toward the ledge. Hoisting himself up with one hand he surveyed the rocky surface.
Amy watched in horror, wondering how Jed could calmly study such a grim scene. One glimpse had been more than enough for her. When he eventually dropped from the ledge and swam back to her he looked strangely thoughtful.
Amy swallowed, trying to make her question sound rational. “What do you think happened, Jed?”
“Offhand I’d say someone was afraid the body might somehow float out toward the entrance of the cave. Whoever killed him apparently decided to leave him on that ledge so the currents wouldn’t pull the body out into the open. See this water line? High tide doesn’t reach the ledge.”
“Oh, God, Jed, it really did happen, didn’t it? Just the way LePage told me it happened. My mother must have killed him and then hidden his body in here. What are we going to do?”
“About that skeleton? Nothing. It’s been lying there for twenty-five years. It can go on lying there forever. Come on, we’ve got a job to do.” Jed adjusted his mask and dived beneath the surface.
Amy glanced nervously back toward the ledge and then put the mouthpiece of the regulator between her teeth. She lowered her mask and went under the water. Her light instantly picked out Jed. He was waiting for her to precede him back to the main corridor. Since they were retreating along the nylon line, the order of who went first was reversed. Amy took a grip on the line and kicked forward, telling herself she would not think about the skeleton. Jed followed, reeling in the nylon.
Amy reached the narrowed mouth of the passage and slowed to edge her way carefully past the entrance into the wider main corridor.
Suddenly the water seemed to shudder around her. She felt the vibration of the falling gravel and debris even as the nylon line went taut in her fingers. The water began to cloud almost instantly as loosened silt floated around her. In seconds Amy’s light was useless. The beam barely penetrated the blinding fog of swirling debris.
Amy’s light grasp on the nylon line became an unshakable grip. If she released it she would never find it again in this silty soup. And if she lost the line, she was probably as good as dead. Her sense of direction was gone. There were no reference points to tell her which way to turn in the corridor. She couldn’t even tell which way was up and which was down without the line. She couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of her face.
All of the problems she was facing registered
in an instant, as well as the probable cause. Something, perhaps merely the change in water pressure caused by her swimming past a weak point, had started a slide. The falling materials had kicked up an incredible cloud of silt. But the biggest shock of all came when she tugged gently on the nylon line and got no answering response from Jed.
The line was still rigid in her grasp. Amy prayed that meant Jed was still holding onto the reel on the other side of the gravel fall, but she knew it could also mean that the reel had been trapped beneath the falling debris. Jed might have been trapped as well.
Cautiously, vividly aware of the possibility of jarring more of the interior loose, Amy swam back along the line. She kept the light on because, useless as it was, it was better than the terrifying, oppressive darkness that would descend on her if she switched it off. She aimed it at the line and found she was barely able to pick out the white nylon in front of her.
She didn’t have to swim far before she found the jumble of materials that now sealed the narrow entrance of the passageway through which she had just emerged. Carefully she tried tugging again on the nylon, aware that she might loosen more debris in the process. There was still no response.
Fear unlike anything she had ever known was welling up in her. If Jed had been caught by the fall and knocked unconscious he might already be dead. If he was alert but trapped by debris, she had to get to him before he ran out of air. They must both be rapidly reaching the bottom of the first third of their supply. Jed had been very clear about the fact that they had to turn back when they got that low. They would need almost a third of the supply to retreat from the cave. That left only the remaining third to keep him alive while Amy cleared the passageway.
She went to work immediately, increasingly careless of the danger of causing another slide. So much damage had already been done that it seemed pointless to worry about the next possible disaster.
On the Edge Page 26