by Vivian Arend
“Let me know. What did you find?”
“Jacket shreds and a shoe. Some blood.” Report was clear and precise, but there was a touch of disgust in her voice any time she had to discuss bleeds. “I’m guessing someone got carried along with the rubble for a bit of a ride before they hit the crack. This is a fresh opening—I haven’t found any old growth.”
Devon agreed. He worked his way down the slope rapidly, even as he flipped on his speaker. “You’re not going to believe this. The research team was testing for seismic activity. They have clear records that show when the slide happened, and yeah, there was a bit of underground quiver.”
“Head right. And really? Tell me they’re not expecting any further activity.”
Devon followed her guidance, rock dust hanging in the air between him and the wall, blurring his vision. “Agreed. In a fresh hole while things are still shifting? Not a great idea, but there’s nothing on the equipment. Like zero activity. We’re safer down here than up top where the fall is still shifting and finding its balance.”
He landed beside her, the glow of his headlamp highlighting her cheekbones and making the bits of her hair that were visible under her helmet shine like an angel’s.
Alisha checked him over quickly, then pointed to the left. “This way. I set anchors already, but I’ll need to swing around a gap, then get some lights in place.”
Devon tied off to the wall anchors she’d set. “Nice and bombproof. Well done.”
“Thank you.” Alisha pulled a rope from her shoulder and passed him the loop he needed. “I’ll check the needed length. Hold me tight so I can lean out.”
He motioned for her to wait as he hooked the safety line in place. Once they brought back their target, or if they needed it themselves, the way out would be a matter of grabbing the rope and signaling Anders to haul them to safety.
Devon adjusted his footing and slipped in directly behind Alisha, tightening the ropes to hold himself in place, fine-tuning the ones attaching them together. Then he threaded his fingers into her climbing harness. “Lean away.”
Alisha had grabbed a high-power flashlight, the backup strap leashed around her wrist. She pushed forward, upper body hanging over the inky blackness at their feet. Light reflected from closer protrusions, skipped out into eternity in other spots as the holes ended too far back for the light to reveal the depth.
Dust particles hovered in the air around them. The taste of dirt skidded over his tongue. Peering through the haze caused by the wide dilation of his headlamp didn’t help him see much better. “Anything? Worthwhile going forward?”
Alisha stretched a hand to him, holding out the flashlight. “There’s a part of the wall to the left that’s got . . . skid marks? I need to slide around the corner to be sure.”
That would put this rescue one step further up the danger scale. Devon took the lamp and placed it aside, pulling her to vertical, their bodies tight together as they rearranged gear.
At some point soon he needed them in this position when they weren’t covered from head to toe. Naked. Naked would be marvelous.
He slapped himself mentally, pulling back on track and thinking about the four rules his team had been built on. The first two were opposites, seemingly. Have patience, or move decisively. Was this a time to wait or move? “Do we have what we need to proceed?”
“We do for me to go around the corner. I’ll know more at that point.” Alisha took a deep breath. “On belay.”
He adjusted his hands. “Belay on. Careful, Alisha.”
She glanced over her shoulder, teeth flashing white as she smiled. A second later she was gone, the rope twisting in his hands as she used him as a fulcrum to find footing and scamper deeper into the darkness.
“Give me slack, Devon.”
He let out a foot of rope. Then another. Tension remained on the line, and everything was going well, when his earlier uneasiness returned in a flash.
“Alisha, what’s happening?”
“I found a trail. Correction. I found him.” Excitement rocked her voice, not only over the microphone now but shouted into the darkness. “Hello. Are you okay? I’m coming to help you.”
A muttered reply, nothing comprehensible, but thrilling to hear nonetheless. Devon hit his mic to the surface. “Alisha’s found the mark. Anders, get in position. We’re not far from the surface.”
“Stretcher?”
“I’ll let you know.”
Alisha had continued to talk to the lost, now found, researcher. Devon fed out line and worked to get extra ropes in place for Alisha to secure the victim.
The speaker connection between them crackled. “Conscious and alert. He’s been bumped around but he’s good to move without a stretcher. Bring him up, Devon.”
For the next fifteen minutes Devon pulled and worked his muscles to the maximum as he lifted the man to the midlevel platform. He was dirty from head to toe, his jacket and pants cut in places from the rocks he’d slid over. One foot in a boot, the other in a dirt-streaked sock. Blood marred one side of his face, the wound on his temple already covered with a quick bandage Alisha must have slapped in place.
Devon checked him over quickly, shining his light into the man’s eyes to watch his pupils react. “What’s your name and how are you feeling?”
A momentary flash of panic faded as the man pulled himself together. “Paul, and dark places aren’t my favourite. Otherwise, I’m okay.”
Devon nodded. “We’ll get you out of here as quickly as possible. Hold tight.”
He wasn’t going to leave Alisha waiting in the dark any longer than he had to, either. It was a bit of a teeter-totter, making sure the researcher was roped to the wall, then adjusting lines to get back to Alisha to hoist her up. Devon worked as rapidly as possible, the occasional comment over the microphone the only thing assuring him Alisha was safe.
It seemed like forever before Devon finally was in position. “You ready?”
“No worries. I was doing my nails.”
The researcher chuckled, and Devon smiled. Yeah, everything would be—
Static shot out from his handset followed hard by Xavier’s overly loud response.
“Crap. Lock into position guys, incoming.” His breathing increased in tempo as if he were running. “We lost another chunk of the mountain and it’s rolling in.”
Devon held a hand to Paul, keeping his voice calm and controlled in spite of the unknown factors barreling toward them. “Don’t panic. We’re good here. Let me get my partner, and we’ll all bunker down.”
Paul nodded, his fingers white around the ropes holding him to the wall.
“Haul ass, Alisha,” Devon ordered.
“Already halfway there, sugar.” Alisha peeked around the corner, her bright purple helmet shining at him. “I’m ready to fly.”
Fly she would. Devon gave her the word, then put all his strength into not just supporting her as she headed into the wide arc between them. He lifted her, making her cover the distance in half the time it had taken for her to leave him.
The rock underfoot shook slightly; sounds of the secondary rock fall carrying to them from the surface. Deep underground in the darkness where they were—that was all he concentrated on. On getting Alisha to safety. Like he’d promised . . . like being a partner always promised.
His biceps were screaming, but he brought her all the way up until he could catch her chest harness and lock her against him.
She blinked, half in surprise, half delighted, it seemed. “Well now, that was a lot of fun.”
God. Devon would have laughed at her enthusiasm if they hadn’t had a wide-eyed witness. They hurriedly shuffled toward Paul. “Anders, what’s happening up top?”
“We had to retreat for a minute. Cover your heads, and I’ll be back as soon as the leading edge settles.”
“We’re all fine.” Alisha answered this time, totally calm, as if she’d been suntanning on the beach all afternoon with a relaxing cocktail in hand. “Anders, Devon and I are going to take a
break for a minute, then you can lift Paul, okay?”
“No prob.”
Devon stepped around Paul, putting the man into the middle of the huddle. Even as he worked like crazy to secure them all, Alisha carried on talking to Paul. She caught Devon’s eye for a second and winked before teasing Paul about his girlfriend and the added value this adventure would give him.
Alisha was incredible. Once again proving she deserved every single accolade she’d gotten.
Above them the sunlight faded, and a torrent of dust and debris slipped into the crack. Devon turned his back on the surface and covered Paul. Alisha did the same on the other side, their arms cocooning the man as small rocks found their way into the opening and bounced off the walls.
“Slide mainly to the left of you,” Anders informed them. “It’s pretty dusty up here, but give it a minute and we’ll be in position to get your new buddy up.”
“There, see? Not bad at all.” Alisha smiled up at both Paul and Devon.
Devon was distracted by a new sound, one not coming from the surface, but from the wall behind them. “Alisha, take over tying Paul in. I need to check something.”
She frowned, but nodded.
He didn’t do anything stupid like unrope and go explore, but he did loosen off enough to step away from the others.
Devon placed his ear to the rock. The rumbling increased.
At the same moment his headlamp caught a glitter in the distance. Devon’s mouth went dry, but he forced himself to speak normally, no matter that everything inside was screaming for him to rush. “Alisha, is he ready?”
She gave a thumbs-up, patting Paul on the arm as she spoke into the mic. “Anders, take it away.”
Usually Devon would be intently watching the victim until the man had reached safety, the way Alisha was doing.
Only not this time.
This time something else demanded his attention.
Devon swooped in on Alisha, looping his rope around her twice. Her verbal protests cut off when he pointed at Paul to warn her not to scare the victim, but she didn’t simply give in.
“What are you doing?” she bit out in a whisper.
“The slide opened a stream. Brace yourself.” That glitter in the distance was approaching faster than they could escape. “Once the first rush is past us I’m betting there will be enough room that we can climb out.”
Her eyes widened, mouth gaping open until she snapped it shut. “A stream?”
She turned her head back toward the tunnel, headlamp shining out, and Devon swore. The glitter was no longer in the distance.
“Hold your breath, Alisha.” He caught the back of her neck and held her face to his chest. His other hand wrapped tight around the anchors while he hoped like hell the rock lip they were crouching beside would deflect the worst of the first impact.
CHAPTER 4
The dull echo that had surrounded them since they’d lowered into the cavern increased, the voices above them growing fainter as the building roar of water raced toward them. Devon used the rush of adrenaline surging in his veins to take a tighter grasp on the ropes, and to surround Alisha more firmly as the whistle in the distance became a thunder.
Alisha caught him around his torso, burrowing in even as she shrank against the wall, trying to protect him in reverse. Drawing him close enough that they would present the smallest possible surface area to the impending deluge.
A fine mist hit before the light vanished and icy coldness poured over them. The current swept from left to right, crashing into the rock and breaking like a wave overhead, dousing them a split second before the rest of the torrent surrounded them. Devon tucked his face into the crook of his arm, pinning Alisha against the rock. Darkness enveloped him, as if he’d leapt from a dock and plunged to the bottom of a lake. Only in contrast to the lake, however, here there was no calming silence, no peaceful bubbles. Instead, dangerous currents attempted to claw him from his perch. Watery fists pounded them, attempting to sweep them from safety into the endless fissures threading through the roots of the mountain.
With his eyes squeezed shut, there was nothing to see but the ghostly echoes of their headlamps. Alisha shifted position, and he caught her harness. One of his feet slipped from the ledge for a second before he jerked himself back into position. Small rocks crashed into them, carried by the current, but the swell of pressure had already lessened. He ignored the buzzing sensation in his lungs that had begun to call for air, instead concentrating on Alisha, on keeping them both safe.
Once the first wave was past, the water rapidly dropped, filling the crevices and cracks at their feet. As their heads broke the surface, he and Alisha gasped for air. Devon loosened one hand from the ropes, wiping his mouth and spitting out dirt-filled water as he glanced up to check the sky and their route to freedom.
Another fifteen seconds passed, maybe twenty, and the water continued to ease off, finding its level as water always does. He was thankful to discover that the water was around waist level.
“A bath was not on the agenda for today,” he joked, reaching to undo the first of the ropes binding them in place.
No answer.
Devon snapped his attention downward to discover that Alisha’s face had gone ghostly white. Her eyes were squeezed close and her lips pressed into a thin line.
“You okay?” he asked.
The roar of the water was still loud enough to prevent voices from traveling from the surface, but he was close enough to Alisha that when a low whimper escaped her, he heard. Her body jerked hard enough to rock them both, a seemingly involuntary motion.
Fear was an ice-cold blade at his throat, more frigid than the water numbing his limbs. “Dammit, Alisha, are you hurt? Did you get hit?”
He edged away to examine her, to see if one of the rocks that had grazed him had slammed her harder and caused an injury.
His attempt to adjust position was thwarted by increased pressure on his harness straps. Her fists clenched tighter as she once more hid her face against his chest.
What the hell was going on?
He calmed himself even though he wanted to shout. Years of training forced him to offer reassurances instead of panicking along with the elephant tangoing in his belly. “Alisha, I need to check you. You’ve got to let go.”
“No.”
The word burst from her, high-pitched and totally not typical Alisha.
His heart rate, which had begun to drop along with the water level, raced back up.
The water continued to disappear, falling to midthigh. The current pushing against them had slowed enough that he could stand without needing to brace himself to remain vertical. Devon caught Alisha by the forearms and, though he hated to do it, used his superior strength to break her hold. He ducked down and caught her chin in his fingers, lifting until he could look her in the eye.
“Alisha. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She continued to shake, pupils dilated as she stared into the darkness past him.
She’d gone into shock. Devon slapped at his chest to turn on his microphone connection to Anders. “I need a rope lowered now. Alisha’s—”
Her hand shot forward and slammed the button, effectively cutting him off.
“No.” The word was barely audible, but she repeated it again and again, getting louder as her lashes fluttered hard. Her eyes focused on his as the tremors shaking her body slowed. “Don’t tell them.”
“What the hell is going on?” Devon demanded. “You’re hurt, or in shock.”
She grew stronger even as he spoke, pulling herself upright. Her feet splashed in the now ankle-deep water as she attempted to move away. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
His speaker crackled. “Devon? Alisha’s what? You got a problem down there?”
Devon reached to answer, but Alisha blocked him again, her hand cupped over his transmitter to stop him from engaging the on button.
At least her reflexes were back up to speed. “Alisha, do we have a problem?”
She stared at him with begging in her eyes. “No. No problem. Don’t say anything. Please.”
That she was coherent enough to ask was the only reason he hesitated. Did he give her a break, at least for now? It was all kinds of wrong, but this was Alisha, dammit, and it seemed he had no brains when it came to her. He nodded once, and she reluctantly slipped her hand away.
Devon clicked the on button. Paused. Then did the only thing he could do under the circumstances.
“Alisha’s . . . mic isn’t working.” The lie fell from his lips, leaving behind a dirtier taste than the deluge that had blasted them. With one sentence he’d as good as stepped into the void. “Send the rope down. We’re soaking wet—a little help hauling our asses up would be appreciated if anyone has extra hands.”
The entire time he spoke, Alisha kept her gaze fixed on him, wordlessly pleading.
He was going to be in so much shit for passing this situation off if something was really wrong with her.
Anders’s instant response fell from above. “Affirmative. Look sharp.”
A rope snaked down the rock wall, a narrow beam of light highlighting its descent.
Devon ignored the rope, focusing on a far more important target. Alisha had switched her attention away, intent on the wall and removing the gear they’d set in place. She unlatched cams and linked carabiners onto her waist clips as if her soul depended on it.
He caught her by the wrist and forced her to stop. “Look at me.”
She twisted in slow motion, lifting her chin high. He ran a hand over her cheek, noting with approval that her skin had warmed, a deep crimson flush marking her cheeks. He checked the response of her pupils to his headlamp. All her physical responses were back to normal, but her eyes were haunted. He let out his frustrations in a long sigh, the sound mixing with the continuing gurgle of water past their feet.
Alisha caught his arm.
“Thank you.” The words came out ragged and rough, as if she’d been screaming for hours.
It wasn’t enough. After all the high-test emotions of the past minutes, anger rushed in and replaced them all. “This isn’t over. I won’t say anything now, but once we’re home, we’re going to talk about this more. Understood? Or I will question you in front of the team.”