She tilted her head to the side. “Okay, but why don’t I go first and you wait here? Just so I can see what’s ahead a little bit, and see if you’ll even fit.”
She was giving me an out, and my ego groaned, but the fear choking my neck latched onto her words. “Okay, but don’t go past where I can hear your voice.”
She smiled. “I’ll be lucky if I can get past the point where you can see my feet.”
She hoisted herself into the small opening, and crawled on her hands and knees into the tunnel. Her backpack nearly brushed the top. I sucked in a breath. Was this normal? Was this what cavers always did? Had she done something like this before? My heart thudded in my chest, and sound was blotted out as blood rushed in my ears. I wanted to shout for her to come back.
“You okay?” I said instead.
“Fine,” she called.
I could still see her. She inched her way forward, small rocks rolling down the tunnel toward me.
“It’s veering left,” she called back. “It’s wider up here.”
“Okay.” I didn’t like this. She was only about fifteen feet ahead, but she moved farther away, turning the corner until I couldn’t see her or her light anymore. Regret flooded me, and I was instantly transported to the moment when I realized James shouldn’t have done that stunt. The stunt I told him I’d done before, the one I told him he could absolutely handle. There was a split-second when the angle of the car didn’t look right, when I could tell he was going too fast. The crew member next to me had noticed it too, and gasped. I felt that exact same feeling right now.
I opened my mouth to shout for her to come back, but before any sound came out, Cat’s scream echoed through the cave and spiked my blood with terror.
“Jesse!”
“Cat!” I scrambled up into the hole, but I didn’t fit. I climbed back out and shucked off my backpack. I climbed back in, and I fit now, but barely. I crawled as fast as I could, my knees protesting, my arms scraping on the sides of the tunnel. I focused on the sound of rocks scraping against each other, of rustling ahead and to the left. Of Cat’s groan, laced with pain. I muttered a curse and crawled faster.
It felt like I was crawling through thick mud, like a dream where I couldn’t make my body move as fast as I needed it to. Finally I reached the point where the tunnel veered left, I kept going until I saw Cat sitting in a tiny room, maybe ten feet in diameter, leaning against the wall, her head back and her eyes squeezed shut. I scrambled the last of the way and plopped down into the room. I scrambled over to her and crouched beside her, needing to get up off my knees.
I scanned her body, looking for the source of her pain. She sat with her legs stretched in front of her, and gingerly held her left knee. “Cat?”
She opened her eyes and wiped away a tear. “I’m an idiot, but I was right. There was something past the tunnel.”
I barked out a laugh and shook my head. “What happened?”
She tried to shift, and yelped, hissing in a painful breath.
I held out my hands, hovering them over her, wanting to do something—as if my big, dumb hands could heal her. I let them drop.
She breathed slowly for a minute. “I was so excited to see this room. I just knew there was something beyond the tunnel. See that opening over there?” She pointed across the small space, and I followed her finger until my headlamp lit a small hole.
“I see it.”
“I went in there. It was wet, and I slid right back out, landing on my knee.” She dropped her head back against the wall.
I looked down at her knee. She had on jeans, and blood was seeping through the fabric. I yanked off my helmet and ran my hands through my hair before scrubbing them down my face.
“Well, now that handsome face of yours is all covered in cave grime.”
I glanced over at her. She was smiling. Handsome face? Was she...flirting? While she was in horrendous pain? I reached out a finger, ran it along the dirty cave floor, and swiped it across the tip of her nose. “Now we match.”
She giggled, but then gasped in pain.
That brought me back to reality. “How will we get you back out? You can’t crawl on that knee.”
“It’s probably only a scrape.” She grimaced in pain again.
“A scrape doesn’t hurt that bad.”
“Give me a minute. It just happened. You know how when you stub your toe it hurts really badly for the first minute, and then it’s over? Maybe this is like that.”
“I think we should radio Otto.”
“No, not yet. He’ll just worry.”
“I think if there were any time when worrying is warranted, now is that time, Cat.”
She groaned. “I don’t want to call Otto yet.” After a few more minutes, she said, “Let’s see if I can put weight on it.”
I held out my arm for her to use as a support, and she looked at it a moment before grabbing on. She pushed up and gingerly tried to move her leg. The smallest movement wrenched a scream from her throat. “Easy,” I said, gently lowering her back down to her previous position.
We stared at each other. “We’re stuck,” she said.
The feeling came back. Not the claustrophobia, but the feeling when I knew James was going to crash. Then the terror, like in the moments after his crash, when I knew nothing was okay.
I reeled back from Cat, pacing around the tiny room as best I could, my neck bent because it wasn’t tall enough for me to stand. My breath came fast. My chest heaved with it and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get enough oxygen again. Here I was, inside this feeling again. Buried in it. Suffocating. It was my fault. Someone was hurt and it was my fault.
“Jesse?”
I waved my hands. I couldn’t talk right now. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t believe it was happening again.
Chapter 13
Cat
Something was wrong with Jesse. Something was wrong with me, too, but before we could deal with that, he had to calm down. I spoke loudly. “This hurts so bad, Jesse, can I squeeze your hand?”
My words had the desired effect, and his gaze snapped to mine. He was breathing so fast I was afraid he’d hyperventilate. “Sit with me?”
He dropped down beside me and held out his hand, but he’d pulled his gaze away, and tipped his head down and rested it in his other hand.
I looked at the hand he proffered. It was wide, his fingers long. I hovered my hand over his. Mine was tiny in comparison. I slowly set my palm against his, and for a moment I no longer felt the throbbing in my knee. Instead, a wave rolled through my stomach, crashing against my chest. Another wave came, and another, and when Jesse curled his fingers around mine and squeezed, a tsunami washed over me, drenching me, threatening to pull me under.
“Go ahead, squeeze as hard as you need.” His voice was strangled.
I was sitting here, reveling in feelings I’d never felt before, while he was drowning in whatever was upsetting him. Knocked back to reality, I turned to console him, but my knee protested the tiny movements I made, and a wave of nausea rolled over me. I had to rest my head on his shoulder.
I had never experienced this type of pain before. I’d had plenty of cuts and scrapes and had hit my head numerous times while down here in the caves. None of it came close to this level of agony. I squeezed Jesse’s hand again. “Jesse? I think we should call Otto now.”
His voice seemed calmer as he said, “Where’s your radio?”
“In my backpack.”
He licked his lips and glanced toward my pack, which was wedged between the wall and me. “I’ll try to get it out without you needing to move.”
At some point I’d have to move. I’d have to get out of here somehow. Maybe they could give me morphine or something to knock me out.
Jesse let go of my hand and reached behind me. He pushed my ponytail to the side, draping it across my shoulder. Wincing, I tipped my head forward so he could reach my zipper. Slowly, he pulled the zipper and reached in. I sucked in a painful gasp.
&n
bsp; His eyes shot to mine, full of concern. “God, I’m sorry. Do you know which side it’s on?”
“I’m not sure. Just be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.” I pulled in a deep breath and held it, leaning forward as far as I could bear.
Jesse dug around quickly, pulled something out, and zipped it back up. I leaned back, light headed.
“I found it, and this.” He held up a first aid kit.
“There’s ibuprofen in there. Think it will help?”
“It’s worth a try.” He opened it and pulled out the pills, setting three of them in my palm. I tossed them in my mouth, and he held out his water bottle. “Is this okay? I didn’t think to get yours out.”
The pills tasted bitter on my tongue. “It’s fine.” I drank from his bottle, noting the intimacy of the act.
He fiddled with the radio, turning it on. “How does it work?”
I held out my hand for it. I wanted to be the one to talk to Otto, not Jesse. He was far too worried. He’d blow it out of proportion. “Otto, you there?” I spoke into the radio.
Nothing but static.
“Otto?”
I tried for a few more minutes, but he didn’t answer. Jesse looked at me, wide-eyed and anything but calm, and stood up. He paced the cave, hunched over, and raked his hands through his hair. “You do that when you’re nervous, don’t you?”
He stopped pacing and looked at me. “What?”
“Run your fingers through your hair.”
He looked at his palms as if they’d tell him the answer. “I hadn’t realized. I’m not used to my hair being this long.”
“Why don’t you cut it?”
He looked stricken. “Why are we talking about my hair?” He squatted down beside me again. “Grandpa’s not answering, so I’ll go for help.”
I reached out and grabbed his arm, panicked. “Jesse, no. You can’t leave me here alone.”
He looked down where my hand grasped his forearm, then looked at me, his eyes tender. “We have to get help for you. We can’t wait for Grandpa forever.”
“We’ll try him every few minutes. It won’t be forever. More like fifteen minutes.”
He looked at my knee. “I think you’re hurt pretty bad.”
I was, and if he left, I’d break down. “You can’t leave me, Jesse. I don’t want to be alone.”
He sighed and looked to the left. I sensed he was both exasperated and worried. He nudged the radio. “Try him again.”
I tried. No answer. “He usually mows on Sunday mornings. That’s probably why he can’t hear. But he’ll stop and check in soon.” He always checked on me frequently when I led hikers through the caves.
Jesse sat back and leaned against the wall beside me. He picked up the first aid kit and looked through it. He held up a tiny pair of scissors. “We can at least get a look at the source of the bleeding.”
“You’re going to cut off my pant leg?”
“I don’t know. Do you think I should?”
I looked at my knee, which I had been avoiding doing because I didn’t like the way the sticky blood was seeping through the fabric of my jeans. It had spread farther than I thought. I looked away from it, back at Jesse’s face. “Okay.”
Jesse moved to sit beside my left foot. He gently poked the scissors under the hem of my skinny jeans. The scissors gnawed on the fabric, and he looked at me to check if I was okay. I nodded. It hurt, of course, but I could handle it. Once he got past the hem, it wasn’t so bad. The scissors were sharper than I thought. When he reached my knee, he stopped. “Where should I cut? The outside?”
It hurt most directly on the kneecap, so I nodded.
Jesse’s hands worked quickly and gently. One hand held the fabric taught and the other sliced through it, barely moving my leg at all. Still, the pain was intense and I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. He stopped cutting mid-thigh, and peeled the sodden fabric away from my knee. I awaited the verdict.
He was quiet. Utterly silent.
I tipped my head forward. I opened one eye, just a crack, and peeked at him. He was staring at my knee in horror. “Jesse?”
He looked at me and blinked a few times. He forced a smile on his face. “You’re going to be fine.” He was clearly trying to convince himself. “Do you happen to have a towel or an extra shirt in your backpack?”
I shook my head, deciding right then and there I was not going to look at my knee.
“Okay,” he said, more to himself than to me. “I’ll see what I have. My backpack wouldn’t fit in the tunnel. I’ll go get it.”
“No!” I said in a hoarse whisper. “Stay. Please?”
He regarded me carefully. “Hey, why don’t you try my grandfather again?”
I blinked a few times, tears springing to my eyes. He was being too cheerful. “My knee looks like ground beef, doesn’t it?”
He shook his head. “Not as bad as that.” He tapped the radio again, reminding me to try Otto. I picked it up and pressed the button.
Meanwhile, Jesse yanked off his hoodie and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Otto didn’t answer, and Jesse was shirtless for the second time in one day. His chest distracted me from my ground beef knee, and I’d never needed a distraction as much as I did then. How could a human being be so perfectly formed? The thought was so sudden, so surprising to me, that I saved it to share with Valerie and Audrey later.
I let the radio rest in my lap, and watched as Jesse ripped his shirt into wide strips. He grabbed the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the first aid kit and held it up. “I’m going to pour this over it. I don’t want to risk touching anything.”
“Okay.” I braced myself for the sting. He poured a thin trickle of the liquid over my injury, and my skin screamed in pain. I clenched my jaw and bore it out. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the sharp ache under my skin, where I was sure some bones were broken, and I actually preferred this stinging pain to that.
“You okay?” he asked.
Biting my lip, I nodded.
He poured a little more and blotted at the skin around my knee with some of the fabric of his T-shirt. It came away soaked in blood, and I was glad he tossed it to the side where I didn’t have to look at it again. He wrapped one wide strip around my knee to cover the gash. He tied it with another, thinner strip. “It’s not sanitary, but it’s better than nothing. It’ll keep rocks and dust from getting in it, at least.”
Sadly, he put his hoodie back on and held out his water bottle. “Drink a little more.”
I took a big drink and handed it back. “It’s juice you’re supposed to drink for blood loss.”
He chuckled and sat back beside me. “Need my hand again?” He placed it palm up on his thigh.
I did need his hand again, not for the physical pain, but for the emotional dread at what was to come. I placed my hand in his. It could have been my imagination, but I thought I heard his breath hitch in his throat.
Chapter 14
Jesse
Her hand was so small. Impossibly delicate. She wasn’t squeezing my hand, which meant she didn’t need to hold it to manage her pain. Maybe she found comfort in it. I certainly did. I hadn’t been touched like this in a long time.
“Are you okay?” Cat asked, turning her head and peering up at me with those big, brown eyes.
Shame filled me, hot and suffocating. I’d been so riddled with guilt that I hadn’t even helped her. I’d been focused on my own mistakes and not focused on her. Now I had even more to feel guilty over. Instead of letting myself sink into those feelings, I started setting it right. I couldn’t do that with James, but I could with Cat. I held her eyes with mine. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I freaked out. I’m sorry I convinced you to come in here. I’m sorry you’re hurt.”
She shook her head lightly. “You didn’t convince me, Jesse. I’ve wanted to come back to this passage for a long time. And you certainly didn’t tell me to crawl into that hole.”
I didn’t want her to let me off the hook. “If it hadn’t been for
me, my grandfather would have been with you. He’d have made sure it was safe. I don’t know anything about caves or cave safety.”
She scowled. “I don’t need Otto to tell me when a cave is safe. I know just as much as he does.”
No way was I going to argue with that. “I believe that.”
She scowled harder.
I laughed a little. “I swear, I’m not being patronizing. I do believe that. I also think I have some responsibility here. I goaded you into doing something I know nothing about. I wanted to be that guy who encourages you to do what you’re passionate about. I made you think I could support you through any outcome, and obviously I can’t.”
In the glow of my headlamp, her cheeks flushed pink. She dropped my gaze and looked away. “Jesse?”
“Yes?”
“Since we’re confessing, I should tell you that the reason I came into this passage was only partly because I’ve been dying to explore it. The biggest reason was because I wanted to impress you.” She laughed lightly at herself. “How silly is that? To think you’d be impressed by me crawling into a hole.”
She said all that while looking away. I squeezed her hand softly. “It’s not silly at all. If you could see into my thoughts, you’d see I was impressed. I could never do what you did, Cat. I was standing out there, shaking in my boots and thinking I could never go into that tunnel. You possess a courage I lack.”
She finally looked back at me. “But here you are. You were scared to come in, but you did. For me.”
I bit my lip. The sound of her scream, winding its way through the rocks to reach my ears as I stood helplessly in the main passage, echoed in my skull. I’d never forget it. I’d never forget the sharp pain in my chest as I imagined what could have happened. “I only seem to find my courage when there’s an emergency.”
Broken Hollywood (Sparrow Sisters Book 1) Page 10