Fatal Green

by The Brothers Washburn

  Martha reached forward and placed her hand on Camm’s shoulder. “Listen!”

  Camm stopped walking. “Oh no! Not more voices?”

  “This is different. Just listen.”

  Except for the occasional beckoning voices, the tunnel had been silent, no noise of any kind, just absolute silence. Then, Camm heard it. A whirring noise, or maybe a harsh wind blowing, though she felt no air moving. It was a distant noise. Camm strained, trying to determine what it was. It sounded like rushing water, a mighty torrent. An underground river must lie ahead of them.

  “I think we hear the sounds of the Nile.” Cam felt a sense of relief. “Let’s keep going.”

  As they walked forward, the tight, confined tunnel gradually widened. Eventually, it opened wide on the left into a huge cavern. As far as Camm could tell, they were walking on a ledge near the top of the cavern. Their trail traveled along the ledge with a wall on one side and a steep cliff descending into pitch-blackness on the other side.

  Stepping into the cavern, she could hear and feel the rumble of a major river racing on its way somewhere far below. The air was so damp she could both smell and taste the wetness.

  Camm turned to Martha. “This is amazing. I grew up in Trona, one of the driest places on the planet, and here is a river of water right underneath us.”

  “Are you sure we are still in the same dimension as the Trona you grew up in?”

  That was a good question. Camm took a few seconds to consider it. Finally, she gave her best response. “I have no idea.”

  Martha tried looking down into the chasm without venturing too close to the edge. The dim light of the flashlight came nowhere near to lighting up the cavern. They could not see the far side of the cavern or the water below. “How far down do you think this cliff goes?”

  “I don’t know.” Camm searched around and found a good size rock. She hurtled it over the edge and slowly counted. She got all the way to six before they heard a splash.

  Martha stared at Camm with large eyes. “How far down is that?”

  “I don’t know, except it is a very long way down. Way far down. Let’s be careful.”

  Martha nodded in agreement. Staying close to the wall, they proceeded along the ledge. As they moved forward, the ledge began to tilt toward the cliff and the raging river below. Before they had gone very far, the ledge they were walking on tilted to almost a forty-five-degree angle. They hugged the wall on their right, staying as far away from the edge as they could.

  The tilt toward the fall-off became so severe they finally had to place their backs against the rock wall. Facing out in the direction of the cliff, they inched along sideways. The wall was warm to the touch. As she slid along, Camm could feel heat emanating from the rock.

  Every nerve in her body was on edge. She was concentrating so hard on not slipping she had to make an effort to remember to breathe. The ground they were walking on in the cavern wasn’t hard rock, but mostly dirt and pebbles, making it all too unstable for Camm’s liking. She wished they were back in the narrowly constricted part of the cave, where there was no danger of falling.

  Without turning her head, Camm said to Martha, “I hope this doesn’t get any steeper.”

  “Me too.” Martha did not turn her head either. “How much further is it . . . ?”

  She did not finish the sentence. Martha stepped on a rounded rock that caused her left leg to skid out from under her. With a plop, she landed on her butt and started a precipitous slide down the ledge toward the edge of the cliff. Immediately, Martha rolled onto her stomach and desperately tried to grab something to stop her sliding. There was nothing to hold on to; her efforts were in vain.

  Camm watched the panic grow on Martha’s face as she slid away. Martha’s fall caught Camm by surprise, and she slid out of reach before Camm could react. Martha slid past the edge, her feet and legs going over. At the last moment, her fingertips caught hold of a sliver of bedrock, stopping her from sliding all the way over the edge of the cliff.

  Her waist was on the edge and her legs hung over the treacherous, long drop. Far below, the raging river seemed to be roaring louder than ever. Dirt, gravel, and rocks set in motion by Martha’s slide rolled over the edge and fell silently into the dark chasm. Any noise they might have made was completely drowned out by the rumble of the great river.

  The dim flashlight in Camm’s hand did little to illuminate the surroundings, but Camm could see Martha’s terror-stricken face. She looked up at Camm with big, round eyes, hanging onto the edge of the cliff with a black abyss below her, ready to swallow her up. For a few moments, neither said anything. Martha and Camm stared at each other, neither knowing quite what to do.

  Finally, Martha spoke. “See, I told you it would be okay to bring me along.”

  Camm did not feel like laughing. “Don’t move Martha. Hang on. I’ll come get you.”

  “Be careful Camm. We don’t need both of us hanging over the edge.”

  In spite of her calm voice, Martha’s face was deadly pale and her hands were shaking. “Camm.” Martha’s voice had taken on a desperate tone. “I don’t know how long I can hang on.”

  “Martha, hang on. Don’t fall. Don’t let go. I’m coming to get you.”

  For all the assurance she tried to give, Camm wasn’t entirely sure what it was she was going to do. Camm knew that falling over the edge herself would not do Martha a bit of good. Keeping her back tight against the wall of the cavern, Camm bent her knees until her butt touched the ground. She then leaned sideways, slowly and carefully, until she was kneeling.

  “Don’t let go, Martha. Oh please, please don’t fall. I’m coming.” Camm couldn’t tell if she sounded reassuring or desperate, but at that point, it didn’t matter.

  “Be careful Camm. Don’t you fall either.” Hanging on with her right hand, Martha tried to find better purchase with her left. It was unclear how successful she was.

  Camm cautiously went from her knees to her belly, her head pointed down toward Martha. Slowly, very slowly, Camm army crawled toward Martha, the flashlight in one hand. She hadn’t gone far when she started to slide head first down the steep slope. Fear gripped her heart and every muscle in her body tensed. She spread her legs and arms, trying to create as much friction as she could. Her slide stopped. She looked at Martha and saw fear and anxiety etched in her face.

  “I’m so sorry Martha—for everything.” Her voice caught. “Just please don’t fall. Don’t let go. I’m coming to get you.”

  Martha’s eyes focused on Camm with renewed courage. “Okay.”

  The strength in Martha’s voice reassured Camm.

  It seemed like forever, but Camm finally reached Martha. They grasped hands. “Hang on now. Hang on to me tight.”

  Camm didn’t know if she could pull Martha up. Camm had Martha with one hand and the flashlight in the other hand. If she lost the flashlight, they would be in total darkness.

  It was not only a matter of the strength in one arm, but Camm was as likely to pull herself down over the edge as she was to pull Martha up away from it.

  Camm took a deep breath. “Martha, can you find a foothold? Any foothold at all.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I think I have something.” With that, Martha pushed herself up. She had only gone a few inches when her foot slipped, but Camm held her tight and Martha was able to find her foothold again. With Camm pulling as much as she could and Martha pushing with her feet they were able to bring Martha up over the edge and completely back on the ledge again.

  For a few moments, they lay there in the black cave dirt, catching their breaths, neither daring to move. Then Martha slowly crawled on her belly away from the edge. Before she had gone far, she stopped to lie still, allowing Camm to use her body for handholds so Camm could turn herself around and face up toward the cavern wall instead of down toward the edge.

  Feeling no need to hur
ry, they inched their way back up to the wall, each helping the other along the way. Reaching the wall, they again stopped to catch their breaths.

  Martha reached over to pat Camm’s hand. “You’re my hero.”

  Camm laughed, and then coughed, her throat dry and full of cave dust. “Not yet. We’re not out of here yet. Let’s see if we can stand up without slipping down.”

  Carefully, they stood and turned to press their backs against the wall of the cave.

  Camm took a deep breath, and Martha said, “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, how much further does the ledge go on like this?”

  Camm laughed. “You know, Martha, you’re a lot stronger than most people think.”

  Shining her light along the cave wall, Camm noticed her flashlight had gotten dimmer. “In the dim light, it’s hard to say, but I think the path levels out up ahead pretty soon.”

  And it did.

  XVIII

  The path no longer tilted towards the cliff, though it still sloped slightly down in the forward direction. Walking again on flat rock, they trudged along in silence, both completely exhausted from their ordeal in almost falling over the cliff.

  Camm’s flashlight dimmed to the point it was almost useless. Without speaking, Martha reached over and handed her flashlight to Camm. Camm turned her light off to stash it away in her backpack. For a moment, they were in total darkness, absolute blackness.

  The black was all-enveloping. One could reach a hand up and touch one’s own nose without seeing a glimmer of the hand. The cave was a photon-free environment. Camm believed that at this point even creatures with excellent night vision would be blind.

  Perhaps, the cave was too dark even for the rat. Maybe for all its bravado, the rat was after all afraid of the kind of dark that even it could not see through. In a flash of insight, Camm realized the rat was just a big coward, always preying on the helpless and weak.

  Smiling to herself at the thought, Camm switched on Martha’s flashlight. It seemed brilliant in the absolute blackness. Camm knew Martha’s light was on its last legs too, but for now, it worked. She hoped they didn’t have much further to go. In the bowels of the cave, it was difficult to tell how much time had passed. Outside, she was sure the evening had long since slipped into night.

  The ledge stayed level and opened out wider and wider. At first, they continued to hug the wall, until Camm noticed the trail actually moved away from the wall cutting a course about half way between the wall and the edge of the cliff. The trail was now a worn path across solid rock.

  Eventually, however, their ledge ended at the brink of a sheer cliff with looming blackness in the cavern beyond. The cliff running along the side of the ledge had taken a hard right turn to become a cliff in front of them. The ledge ended in a vertical drop. Camm decided the river below must also make a sharp right turn at this point as well.

  At first, Camm saw only an end of the trail with nothing but empty darkness beyond. The thought of turning around and heading back at this point was more than she could bear. Not so much for her own sake, but for Martha’s sake, going back was not an acceptable alternative.

  Then, she realized that while the stone path ended at the edge of the cliff in front of them, the trail did not. Extending beyond the ledge, out into the darkness, was a narrow rope bridge. The light from her flashlight did not reach to the other end of the bridge, which was one of those V-shaped bridges where you walked one foot in front of the other on a single rope. There were two waist-high ropes on either side for handholds with links of rope running up and down between the rope you walked on and the handhold lines. The whole thing looked extremely flimsy and unsafe.

  Martha and Camm grimaced at each other. Camm nodded. “Lay hold on the cords of life and release them not.” The huge cavern spoke back in Camm’s voice, . . . release them not, release them not, release them not. The words echoed on and on.

  Martha pushed back her hair. “I think we have reached both the cords of life and the return of voice.” The cavern repeated in Martha’s voice, . . . return of voice, return of voice, return of voice.

  Staring into the dark, cavernous void, Martha sighed, “I can’t see the other end.” The cavern repeated, . . . see the other end, see the other end, the other end. The echo continued in the distance.

  Camm held her free hand up in a gesture that said, what else are we going to do? “Martha, we know the bridge has got to be connected to something on the other side. It can’t just end in midair.” . . . end in midair, end in midair, end in midair.

  Camm paused thoughtfully. “I hope.” . . . I hope, I hope, I hope.

  Martha stepped closer to the edge. “Do we go together or one at a time?” . . . one at a time, one at a time, one at a time.

  The cavern continued to echo their every word as if it were mocking them.

  The bridge looked iffy for even one person.

  Camm shrugged. “We only have one working light.”

  “Then, I guess we go together.”

  Before starting across, Camm realized she would need both hands free to hold on to the side ropes. With Martha’s help, she tucked the light into a strap on her backpack. It shone ahead, more or less, enough so they could see where they were placing their feet.

  Exchanging glances of concern, they started across with Camm in the lead and Martha not far behind. The rope bridge was not stable at all. It swung precariously from side to side, and they had to stop several times to steady themselves. “Martha, I can’t see what you’re doing back there, but we can’t both lean the same way at the same time. That starts us swinging too much. Let’s try stepping together, but with the opposite foot. Follow my lead: step, step, step, step . . .

  “Whoa! What was that? You almost bounced me off the foot rope.”

  Breathing heavy, Martha struggled to stabilize her balance on the ropes. “Sorry, but you were going too fast for me, and my foot slipped off the bottom rope. With your light shining forward, it is pretty dark back here. Let’s try that again, but a little slower this time.”

  They finally arrived at a system of stepping in time with each other. This did not eliminate the swaying, but helped minimize it. Camm tried to keep her steps slow, but steady, worried that if she slipped, she would accidently bounce Martha off the ropes.

  The bridge seemed to be so very long, but Camm realized the darkness and deepness of the cavern conspired to make it appear worse than it actually was. Still, Camm’s muscles ached with fatigue and she worried how Martha was doing. At last, Camm’s swaying light flashed back and forth across the sheer rock face of an upcoming cliff. The rope bridge reached a terminus at the top of that cliff on another ledge, similar to the one they had left behind.

  “I see the end.” I see the end, see the end, see the end. That echo continued very annoyingly.

  Once on solid ground again, they paused to rest a minute and enjoy solid ground beneath their feet. Camm found an old fire pit, set back from the edge of the cliff. Miscellaneous debris from previous explorers lay around the fire pit, including some lengths of rope, empty tin cans and an assortment of sticks and logs.

  Camm picked up a stick that was about two feet long and wrapped a couple feet of old hemp rope around one end.

  “What’s that for?” Martha asked.

  “Just getting prepared for the worse.”

  The seemingly endless trail continued along the ledge for several hundred yards, where it entered a small opening in a large rock wall. Once again, they were in a constricted tunnel where they had to walk in single file and bend over to keep from hitting the rock roof.

  At least there was nowhere to fall.

  Camm noticed a change in the slant of the trail. No longer inclining downward, it now gently sloped upward. She also recognized the difference in the incline by how her muscles responded. Before, her calf muscles had ached from going downward. Now, her
thigh muscles answered the upward trend by complaining with each step.

  To Camm, this was a positive development. Perhaps the change in grade indicated they were getting near the end. But, the trail didn’t end. Not yet. They trudged on as the remaining flashlight grew dimmer and dimmer. The thought of having to turn around now to go back was unthinkable.

  On and on they hiked. In one especially constricted section of the cave, the tunnel was so quiet the slightest sound seemed to bounce back and forth between the walls. As the tunnel reached an unusually narrow passageway, the deep silence was suddenly broken.

  First came a distant rumbling that originated deep below them within the depths of the mountain. That noise grew into a steady vibration beneath their feet. Soon the vibration exploded into all-out shaking. Both girls planted their hands against the walls of the tunnel to steady themselves. Dust poured out of the ceiling as the shaking increased in violence.

  There, between trembling rock walls, thousands of feet underground, Camm wondered which would be worse, falling into the black abyss of the underground river or being crushed by a collapsing tunnel in an earthquake. At the moment, being crushed seemed the least appealing.

  The shaking finally ceased, but the air was filled with dust, obscuring the already faint light from the flashlight. Martha place a hand on Camm’s back. “I say we hurry.”

  She got no argument from Camm. “Keep up with me!”

  They picked up the pace, but couldn’t outrun the dimming flashlight. Finally, they were forced to stop as the darkness began to overwhelm them.

  Camm knelt on the ground and placed the flashlight next to her knees. “I’m going to turn the light off while I remove my backpack,” she explained. “I want to save the last little bit of juice in the batteries while I get our backup arrangements ready.”