Murder on Masaya (Kea Wright Mysteries Book 3)

by RJ Corgan

  The ‘About’ section of the website contained a photograph of Shona, looking about three decades younger. With her long hair, floral dress, and cocked head, she reeked of the trustafarian neo-hippie types Carter had spent so much of his life in Colorado avoiding. She was listed as one of the Outpost’s founders.

  Initially, Carter had found the name Outpost to be overly colonial, however further research revealed three Outposts in New Jersey and seven in Birmingham.

  There was also no mention on the site about Freedom Unlimited. Peeking between the fronds of the fern, Carter had no doubt a website overhaul was already in the works. The speed at which Deshi’s new staff was replacing the original team was stunning.

  “Those are my Hobnobs.”

  Carter looked up from his phone to see Bree hovering over him. He handed over the packet of chocolate biscuits.

  She sniffed as she tore into the package. “There are more of them.”

  He scanned the foil packages in his lap again but couldn’t see any more cookies. “I’m more of a cheddar crisp fan.”

  “I meant the team.” Bree nodded at the faces on his phone. “Emilio owned a climbing company, although it was more of a toy to him than a profession. Two of his staff are down there with him, Blanca and Francisco.” She bit into a cookie. “Those three are inseparable, but His Nibs doesn’t like giving publicity to Emilio’s personal life, at least not on the web page nor on social media for that matter.”

  Carter assumed she was referring to the President. “What is Emilio’s connection to the President? Aside from Emilio’s family belonging to Nicaragua’s wealthy elite?”

  “Some student protests a while back ended badly. Emilio was still in graduate school at the time and, through his family, offered to broker a deal with the government to calm things down.” She popped out another couple of cookies. “Now we’ve got this mess to deal with as well.”

  She glowered at Deshi as she spoke. Carter guessed she was referring to Freedom Unlimited’s arrival. There seemed to be more than twenty new staff members surrounding Zhao, all Chinese.

  “They seem awfully keen,” Carter noted.

  “They’ve been partners with the Outpost for a while, ready to step in the whole time. Bet they were just waiting for the word.” Seeing Shona approach, Bree tossed the remaining cookies into his lap. “You’ll be needing these.”

  “Deshi’s ordered all non-essential personnel out of the Outpost, including me!” Shona bristled with indignation.

  Carter hefted his pack and gathered up the remaining snacks.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Shona asked.

  He almost said, ‘A bar,’ but judging from Shona’s stern expression, Carter shrugged instead.

  “Aside from pirating, do you have any field experience?” Shona asked.

  “A little.” Carter reeled off his salient degrees, “archaeology, paleontology, marine biology …”

  “Right, you’re coming with me.” Shona nodded at Bree. “Try to keep the crater team alive, Sharvil too. I’ll deal with Deshi when I get back.”

  WHILE THE descent from the crater rim had been nausea-inducing, at least the pod had provided an illusion of safety. Standing on the edge of Beta level with nothing but her rope and harness preventing her from plummeting four-hundred feet into the lava, the vertigo was enough to drive Kea to the limits of her sanity.

  Beneath her, clouds wafted from the depths, their shifting forms obscuring the rocky ledges that marked the scarred walls of the crater. Her eyes traced the thin descent line as it zigged and zagged into the fiery pit.

  Kea was by no means a novice climber. As a geologist, climbing was merely another part of her commute to work, as often the best outcrops were usually inaccessible from ground level. She went to a climbing gym once and had been astonished to discover that most of the regulars had never climbed outdoors and learned their techniques from YouTube.

  The climbers on the Masaya expedition, Emilio, Blanca, and Francisco, did not resemble the playful, Lululemon-wearing kind that filled the walls of the gym in San Diego. On this expedition, the climbers were thin and lanky, their fingertips covered in tape, or worse, lined with a crust of crazy glue to keep their nails attached to the bed of their skin. Even though they would joke and prod each other with jabs and digs, there was a seriousness underlying all their interactions. The rescue team was cut from the same cloth.

  Watching them descend, carefully stretching and twisting their lithe limbs across the treacherous rock face, was like watching a silent ballet.

  Kea shook herself out of her reverie and focused on the first part of the descent. Even though the rope was bolted to the crater floor, in order to start the descent, she had to lean back over the edge and walk, perpendicular to the crater wall, backward down into the Mouth of Hell.

  Or at least, that was what she should have been doing. The rest of the team had already descended to the first staging point while she remained rooted to the spot, frozen. The roar of the lava beneath her blotted out any coherent thought. Distantly, she was aware of the line in her hands, the weight of her helmet on her head, and the tight embrace of the rucksack on her shoulders, but she could not bring herself to lean back over the edge of the precipice. Instead, her fingers twitched spastically on the line, as if planning a last-minute escape.

  Alphonso stood beside her, waiting patiently. That was his job, Kea knew. Await and assist their return. Back at the Outpost, Sharvil and Bree would be helping to coordinate with the government and the rest of the response team from above. Hopefully, a helicopter as well.

  Hopefully, Airwolf.

  Kea attempted once more to lean back over the edge, to let the rope take her weight, but the rumble of the volcano grew louder and caused her to falter.

  “Need a push?” Alphonso asked.

  “Try it and you’re going down with me.”

  He shook his head. “Delta … not a good place. My beauties, they do not go there. Nor should you.”

  She knew ‘my beauties’ referred to the bees that lived in the crater. While they dug their solitary tunnels and laid their eggs in the ash inside Masaya, even they found the edge of the lava lake on Delta to be too inhospitable.

  “Trust me,” Kea said softly, “this is something I hoped never to do.” She focused on the thought of Daniela and the others still alive down there, pleading for help.

  “I’m coming,” Kea whispered.

  She let out a long breath and closed her eyes.

  I have to do this. Have to save them.

  Not giving herself time to think, she thrust her foot backward until the heel of her boot crested the edge. Then, the rope taught in her hands, she leant backward.

  And stepped over the edge.

  “Fuckityfuckfuckfuckityfuck!” The words flew from Kea’s lips as she rappelled down the cliff. The toes of her boots lightly bounced against the rock in bounds eight feet apart. The whizzing of the rope sliding through her gloves was terrifying but the tension across her waist reassured her that the climber below was regulating her descent.

  Simultaneously flying and falling sixty feet into a volcano.

  It was exhilarating.

  She intentionally overshot the landing and came to rest gently on her bum. Not exactly graceful, but easier on her feet. While the reinforced toes of her boots protected her digits from falling rocks, they hurt like hell.

  The ledge was little more than five feet wide and fifteen long. She couldn’t see the far end, as it was blocked by the other climbers who were lined up to begin the next phase of the descent. She took a moment to rub her sore feet before attempting to stand. With little space to navigate, Kea reluctantly took Ling’s outstretched hand.

  “I suppose it’s fitting,” Ling said once Kea was vertical. “The last time we saw each other, you did say you’d see me in hell.”

  “True.” Kea narrowed her eyes. “Although I’d hoped to be the one looking down from above.”

  Ling sized her up as if
seeing her for the first time.

  Kea felt naked under her gaze. She’d forgotten the power this woman had over her. A snide remark died on Kea’s lips as, for a moment, she remembered what it was like to fall into Ling’s arms, to let the world fall away.

  “Truce?” Ling extended a palm.

  Kea, not trusting herself to speak, nodded. She took Ling’s hand. “Let’s get them home.”

  As Ling turned to take her place in line, Kea gathered the rope and tied it off against the cliff so it could not swing back out from beneath the overhang. Above them, the lip of Beta’s ledge loomed over them like a cloud, its rocky belly streaked with ash and sulfur. All too aware of the chasm less than a yard from her toes, she huddled closer to the line of people, as if waiting for a ride at an amusement park. She had just bent over to massage her ankle when her earpiece chimed.

  “How’s it hanging?” The electronic voice reading Carter’s message tickled her ear. “CNN has a great shot of you, by the way.”

  Kea flicked the talk to text button on her watch. “How is that even possible?”

  “Deshi’s decided to stream live-feeds from some of the web cams to the networks.”

  “Why, for god’s sake?”

  “Higher ratings?”

  “He just wants more evidence to shut us down.” Kea turned away so Ling could not overhear. “Any news?”

  “Shona has apparently volunteered me to help finish your gravimetric survey.”

  Kea looked at her watch, puzzled. At best, they could only take a few readings in before sunset.

  “She won’t give me any specific details,” Carter continued, “but she seemed alarmed by your last reading.”

  “So was I.” Kea shrugged. The readings could probably wait, but she couldn’t blame Shona for wanting to get away from Deshi, particularly if his team had taken over the Outpost. She found herself staring at the rope dangling down from Beta. A thought struck her. “Emilio may have been many things, but he was an experienced climber. To not tie himself in so close to the edge … it’s beyond stupid.”

  “If he was anything like the rest of the social influencers, he’d do anything for a good selfie,” Carter offered. “To be fair, though, tying in wouldn’t have helped if the entire ledge went with him.”

  “Jesus,” Kea breathed. “Let’s hope not for the others’ sake. I guess we’ll find out when we get there. I can’t remember if he was tied in on the footage. If you get a chance, have another look, will you? See if there is any rope in any of the shots?”

  “Sure. Any update on an ETA?”

  Kea shook her head, forgetting that Carter couldn’t see, unless the cameras had extraordinary zoom capabilities. Unconsciously, she shifted so her rear faced the cliff, away from the world’s press. “Likely at least another hour or two to get down to the rockfall, but after that it depends on their condition. If they’re seriously injured, it could take all night to bring them up or even longer.” It could be days, she knew, but she didn’t want Carter to flee just yet.

  “I’ll shift the flight to tomorrow evening, but no more,” Carter answered. “Be safe down there.”

  “Watch out for yourself,” Kea whispered before signing off. “The cafeteria pudding’s a killer.”

  It was easy enough to see the path leading to the next vertical drop. However, it entailed walking across a shifting slope of talus resting at a forty-five-degree angle. One slip on the rocks could send a person sliding to their death in the heart of the volcano. Thankfully, everyone was clipped into a line that secured to the crater wall. The line was strung to a few large boulders embedded in the scree along the route.

  Kea gripped the line tightly and shuffled her feet like a crab, moving slowly across the talus. Other braver, or more suicidal souls, walked confidently along the path as if they were strolling down the aisle of the supermarket.

  People like Ling.

  Kea saw the woman following closely behind the lead rescue climbers, demonstrating that she was leading, taking charge.

  Doing my job.

  Kea rolled that thought over.

  It should hurt more to lose her position as project lead. It should have been devastating. However, her mind was so overwhelmed with the current situation that the realization had not sunk in yet. In the same way the brain could only remember seven things at a time, there were only a certain number of failures a person could process simultaneously.

  Or maybe, she considered, it’s hard to care about your job when you’re one slip away from a horrible molten death. It was a bit like worrying about filing taxes while clinging to the wall of the Grand Canyon.

  Distracted by the thought, her heel caught on a rock and she stumbled with a yelp. Her slip sent a flurry of small rocks and ash skittering into the crater. She hugged the line with her elbows and carefully repositioned her feet, aware that the rest of the party had turned to stare at her in concern. Rather than meet their shameful gaze, she waved to indicate that everything was fine.

  Move along, nothing to see here.

  She forced herself to breathe. One breath. Two breaths. Now walk, she commanded her body. Show them everything’s fine.

  As she moved across the talus, Kea knew everything wasn’t okay. Even though she had drawn long, deep breaths, it felt as if she didn’t have any air in her lungs at all. Her chest was tight, as if she was bound by the iron bands on a swollen wine cask.

  Keeping one hand on the line, she pressed her fist against her breastbone. Oddly, applying more pressure helped. She still couldn’t breathe, but the tightness that had seized her muscles lessened. A little. She was able to move normally, to keep pulling on the line, even though her body seemed to be shutting down.

  It was like being drunk, except without the feeling of elation, combined with the disconcerting certainty that the universe was trying to squash the life out of her.

  A gloved hand clasped her own. The shock of it startled her.

  “Sorry,” Carlos said.

  Her mask had obscured his approach. He had removed his own mask and was staring at her, worry tugging at his gentle smile. “Are you all right? You’re moving a bit slow.”

  Kea nodded. The air around them looked clear, so she took off her own mask. A trickle of sulfur sent her into a brief coughing fit, but the involuntary reaction felt reassuringly normal. “I’m fine,” she gasped. “I’m trying to guess what will go wrong next. Maybe a meteorite will hit us tonight. That would be lovely. Nice clean finish, no paperwork to fill out.”

  “We’ll get them out.” Carlos squeezed her hand. “Nothing else matters.”

  He said other things too, no doubt soothing reassurances, but Kea stopped listening. She had finally pieced together what was happening and her focus had turned inward. Loss of control, breathing difficulties, sense of terror, racing heart …

  She wanted to tell Carlos she was having a panic attack, but he’d just send her back up. Away from the others. She couldn’t tell him. She mustn’t.

  The realization helped somewhat. It didn’t lessen her soul-deadening symptoms but that she’d never had a panic attack before was, well, interesting. She always assumed people in this condition would scream uncontrollably and need a good slap to come round.

  From his expression, Carlos must have finished saying something kind and encouraging, so Kea gave him what she hoped was a believable smile and pulled on her mask as if to say, “Let’s go.”

  After Carlos had moved a good twenty feet away, Kea took off her mask again and gave herself an experimental smack across her face with her palm. It didn’t help her breathe any easier, but the pain on her cheek was something new to focus on.

  Not wanting to give the news networks any more viral footage, she put the mask back on and hurried after the others, steeling herself for the next portion of the descent: a Tyrolean traverse, which had thankfully survived the seismic activity. Composed of two lines, the traverse stretched horizontally across a sixty-foot gap to the next ledge and then it was a short hike to
the Gamma waypoint. However, each member of the team had to cross the traverse individually. First, they had to clip a lead line to the top line, then, attaching their harness and chest harness to the lower line, they had to use their arms to pull themselves across the chasm.

  The group was quiet as they each waited for their turn. Over the radio, Kea heard that no one had heard from the team at the lowest levels, nor had the lead climbers successfully charted a safe path down the rockfall. As eager as they were to reach the others, they were all aware that tromping down unstable terrain could make things worse.

  The two paramedics in front of her seemed to be enjoying the excursion. Whenever they had spoken in the tent, Kea had been unable to keep up with their Spanish. Both were striking, with flawless skin, sharp chins, and dark raven hair, although their clean cheeks and faint moustaches gave away their youth. When it was their turn to cross the chasm, they each swung into position and darted off across the line, attempting to best each other’s speed.

  Ling followed suit, elegantly swinging up onto the line and gracefully speeding out over the gap.

  Everyone’s an expert but me, Kea swore.

  Alone on the ledge, Kea waited for the signal that Ling had decoupled from the line. Looking into the vast drop beneath her, vertigo bubbled its way up her throat. Her ears, buffeted by Masaya’s thunderous roar, strained to hear the chatter on the radio while moisture from the volcano’s breath moistened her cheeks.

  The combination of sensations threatened to overwhelm her.

  I never thought being terrified would be so exhausting. Kea found herself chuckling, because at some point, it was simply too much to process.

  When the time came for her to crawl into position and clip her harnesses into the line, she was almost relieved. Whether she made it to the other side or if she fell to her death, at least it would all be over soon.

  Refusing to look anywhere but up, Kea stared at the slivers of blue sky visible through the plumes and, one hand at a time, pulled herself slowly across the abyss.

  Chapter 6

  THE PICKUP truck had seen better days, Carter thought, perhaps when Nixon had been in office. The battered vehicle was painted sky blue, at least in the spots that hadn’t disintegrated into rust. It was conspicuously out of place nestled between the gleaming red Global Solutions SUVs that were lined up beside the loading dock.