Murder on Masaya (Kea Wright Mysteries Book 3)

by RJ Corgan

“Are you ready yet?” Ling queried brightly over the comms.

  “You have no idea,” Kea replied. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Watching the others trudge out of the pit, Kea realized Ling was right about one thing. While everyone’s mind was bent on the goal of getting out, there was another, almost tangible apprehension following them. A palpable wariness.

  As if they were being hunted.

  Chapter 15

  THE FIRST vertical ascent was easy, for Kea at least. She had consented to let herself be raised by the others, occasionally using a toe or a hand to nudge her trajectory around obstacles. The stretchers had been raised in much the same way, accompanied by the paramedics on separate lines to guide their patients up the cliff.

  Ling, who had clipped Kea into the line, waited below while Francisco and Blanca labored to haul Kea slowly up from above. Even as she was lifted, she was unable to shake the despair from being so useless and felt herself spiraling into a fugue of depression.

  Hello old friend.

  Her entire life she had heard people use the phrase, “battling depression,” which struck her as ridiculous. Depression was a forty-thousand-pound brontosaurus that came and sat on her face for months, or even years, at a time. It quashed all energy, enthusiasm, and will to live out of her. The concept of fighting such a gargantuan force, in her opinion, was to fundamentally misunderstand depression in the first place.

  How sad is it that the weight of depression settling over me seems as familiar as an old blanket?

  Not only had her body betrayed her on the disaster of an expedition, but her mind was deserting her as well.

  When she was finally hauled onto the ledge like a sack of laundry, the movement drove a spike of pain into her chest. She almost welcomed it. At least the pain reminded her that she was alive.

  Great, I’ve got a new addiction to worry about. Why can’t I take up smoking like everyone else?

  Francisco looked down at her prone form, then held out a tentative hand, as if she were a particularly smelly dishrag that had fallen on the floor.

  “It’s fine,” Kea waved him away. “I can get up.” She exhaled a shuddering breath. “Just waiting for the stabbing pain to subside.”

  Francisco nodded. “I need to unclip your harness to get Ling roped in.”

  “Ah.” Kea flopped around awkwardly for a moment to free her leg that had gotten tangled in the line. Then, with sluggish fingers, she untied it from her harness.

  “Here.” Blanca handed Kea a small object wrapped in paper. “It’s just a cough drop, but it might help with the aftertaste.”

  “Thanks.” Kea popped the honey-flavored lozenge into her mouth. “How are you guys doing?”

  “Never mind us.” Blanca jabbed a finger at Ling. “Where did she come from? Is she really in charge?”

  “Looks like.” Kea closed her eyes and debriefed Blanca on everything. “Ling’s after something. She doesn’t believe Emilio’s death is an accident.” Kea swallowed gingerly, her throat still cringing in pain. “It’s not like her though.”

  “What? Playing detective?”

  Kea shook her head. “It’s not like Ling to bother to care.” She fumbled with the thought for a moment longer before catching it. “More than that, it’s not her job to care.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You don’t know her. There is literally nothing more important to her than her career.” Kea tasted a familiar bitterness at the back of her throat. It wasn’t bile. She pushed the anger aside. “We just have to get Josine and Daniela out safely. Focus on that.”

  “Never mind them. Are you going to be all right?” Blanca asked. “I’m not talking about the virus.”

  Kea seemed to ignore the question. “I’m not going to let anything happen to them. Not after Alisha.” Kea kept her voice low, but Ling was already at the top of the cliff and pretending very hard not to appear interested in their conversation.

  “OH, YOU’RE alive.” Shona was sitting on the loading dock, patching a scrape on Jacob’s forehead when Carter walked up.

  He saw no sign of Maria. The cries of the protestors and shouts of police drifted down around them like a gentle rain.

  “You sound disappointed,” Carter wheezed as he tried to catch his breath. “Where’s our princess?”

  “Inside.” Shona nodded over her shoulder at the door leading into the Outpost then pointed to the canvas carrier at her feet. “Please place the gravitometer in the bag.”

  “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Carter said, setting his pack on the ground. “I only got punched in the face, gassed, and stepped on after I got knocked over by a-”

  “I am enormously relieved that you made it back safely,” Shona cut in, “now please place the eighty-thousand-dollar device inside the bag.”

  Carter sighed and unzipped his pack. “You’re just as bad as men, you know that? In the end, you only want one thing.” He gently lowered the device into Shona’s sack. “Shouldn’t we get inside before the mob figures out there’s a back entrance?”

  “I hardly think we need worry about that. I’ve told Maria to let them in the front door.” Shona tidied up bloodied bits of shirt and bandages, then helped her husband to stand. “Gassing children indeed. Not on my watch.”

  KEA ENCOURAGED the others to press on so that she could have a bio break. The gentle curvature of the crater and the rise in the path precluded any real privacy, but the others politely focused on threading the team, one by one, through the needle that was the Tyrolean traverse.

  In truth, despite the inconvenience, Kea was relieved to have an excuse to be alone. Being treated like an invalid by everyone was surprisingly draining.

  I am the duck with the broken wing.

  It was cloying, she realized, trying to appear fine, while grappling with the knowledge that she had been removed from command, first by Ling, then by a gormless microscopic virus. Not to mention Carter’s errand and …

  “What have I done?”

  The familiar taste of her colossal failures mixed with the bitter bile overwhelmed the honey lozenge. Once more, she was reminded that there was no way she would be allowed to remain associated with the Outpost after this fiasco. Where would she work next? She had fled from academia and what little personal effects she still possessed were in a storage locker in El Cajon. Nowhere to go, no home to go back to … it was nice to think any of those worries still mattered.

  She sensed the fire on her back, the roar of the raw earth crackling in her ears, and suddenly her career troubles seemed so insignificant.

  I’ll never be here again, she thought. I might visit another volcano as a tourist, but I’ll never be this close again.

  Every step upward was another step away from a world she would have to forget. To add to the bucket of, Remember when’s, she would someday inevitably use to bore future coworkers at some office job.

  Why can’t we all feel this connected to the world all the time?

  She saw the black forms of her team on the traverse slide one by one across the gap. Blanca glided across the chasm, releasing her clasps and dismounting in one fluid motion. She walked up the path with Francisco, their arms interlocked in an affectionate embrace.

  Kea shook her head. They made their unusual relationship look so unfathomably easy. They somehow found a way to make it work with three people, yet Kea had never successfully managed with just two. She noted that Ling’s gaze rarely left the two climbers.

  Surely, she couldn’t think that they had anything to do with Emilio’s death?

  Shaking her head, Kea focused her attention on the traverse, watching closely as Daniela’s stretcher was moved into position.

  Kea would follow after Luis, assuming nausea didn’t overwhelm her.

  Don’t think about it, don’t look down, focus on the cables. Focus on something else. Focus on getting out.

  She eyed the traverse nervously.

  And if you have to pee, do it now.

  Upworld,
as Francisco jokingly referred to life outside the crater, she knew everything was spiraling out of control. Protestors crying out in rage that their poster child had been knocked into the crater. For what? What did they imagine was the reason? That the President was upset with him for participating in a protest three years ago?

  No doubt that’s what the media would suggest. Anything for more clicks.

  As Kea had told Daniela, if the President did want to get rid of Emilio, he could have done it years ago. He certainly wouldn’t risk ruining the Masaya expedition, one of the jewels of ‘scientific advancement’ for his presidency. Although, to be fair, that title would soon rest with the new canal.

  Besides, Emilio served a purpose, like he had three years ago – he connected the populous youth with the resolution following the rebellion, or at least symbolically.

  However, Kea had no doubt that after the initial shock of Emilio’s death wore off, eyes would return again to the expedition and people might ask, “What if?”

  Like Ling was doing now.

  “Kea, you’re next!” Ling escorted Kea to the head of the traverse.

  She resisted Ling’s attempts to help with the straps, insisting that she had recovered. Even though Kea was fighting an overwhelming desire to lie down and go to sleep, she felt almost normal, which proved to be deceptive. As she knelt to clip her harness onto the traverse line, a bout of queasiness overcame her balance and she nearly smacked her forehead against the rockface.

  After that, Kea acquiesced and let Ling tie her in, helpless as a newborn. Luis pulled her across the rift from the other side, as if she were a fish at the end of a reel. Ling had tucked Kea’s hands across her chest, so all Kea had to do was lie back and watch the amber plumes of smoke waft up from Masaya’s throat into the sky above. Glimpses of the outside world were darker than she expected. She realized she didn’t know if it was night or day and clouds were moving in.

  Her tummy gurgled, this time in hunger. According to her stomach, it was lunchtime.

  “You’ve lost all credibility,” Kea informed her navel. “In fact, I may never trust you again.”

  “That might not be a bad idea.”

  Kea flinched. Luis was only a few feet away now, easing her into the final approach.

  She wanted to ask what he meant, but Luis put a finger to his lips. He held her harness while she steadied her feet on the ground. He released the cable, then gave it a couple of quick tugs to notify Ling to clip in. Looking over his shoulder at the others who were already starting the last hike to the ascent to Beta, he took his mask off and muted his comms. As he made a show of checking her harness, he whispered, “Daniela’s line had a cut in it.”

  Kea was genuinely shocked. “Are you certain?”

  “Not from wear and tear, but a clean notch.” Luis nodded. “I’m surprised it held at all.”

  Kea checked behind her, but Ling had only just started to pull herself across the chasm.

  Why on earth would anyone go after Daniela?

  She scanned the path ahead. Everyone had passed Daniela’s stretcher before crossing the rift. It could have been any of them, including Luis. The old double bluff. At least from Ling’s perspective. “Ling’s already started her own investigation. This news will make her go cross-eyed.”

  “I’ll have a word with Simon,” Luis said. “We’ll switch the running order, get Daniela out before Josine.”

  “Is Daniela the target, I wonder, or the most convenient?” Kea felt a woosh of air behind her as Ling arrived. Kea made a zipping motion with her fingers across her lips and put her mask back on.

  Then, once Ling had decoupled, they began their slow, silent march out of the gates of Hell.

  THE OUTPOST’S halls were filled with the babble of hushed voices. Carter pressed his way through the protestors filling the centrum. The large doors had been shuttered, but he could hear the pounding of the Policía demanding to be let in.

  Outside of the command post, Deshi emerged, yelling commands in English and Mandarin at the protestors. The crowd stared at him in puzzlement before turning away.

  Spying Shona, Deshi turned on her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing letting them in? You don’t even work here!”

  “I’m offering them sanctuary.” Shona tilted her head. “Need I remind you that I am one of the Outposts’ founders? If it wasn’t for me, none of this would exist.”

  “Sanctuary? This isn’t a church! This facility operates in cooperation with the government!” Deshi spat. “We can’t not let them in.”

  “You are correct, this isn’t church. The Outpost was designed as a place of learning, a place of science for all,” Shona insisted. “No matter their age, race, or religion, all are welcome here, but more importantly,” she nodded at the crowd, “all ideas are welcome.”

  “Mr. Zhao!” Sharvil bolted through the command doors. He blinked in surprise at the sight of the protestors, then lunged for his boss. “We need you. Now.”

  “What are you thinking?” Deshi ignored Sharvil, his rage still focused on Shona. “We’re in the middle of a crisis! You’re endangering your colleagues inside Masaya!”

  For an instant, Carter thought the man was literally going to pull his own hair out. Instead, Deshi raised a thin, quivering finger and muttered, “This isn’t over,” before following Sharvil back inside the command center.

  Shona motioned for Bree and the woman pressed something into the her hands as she whispered in her ear.

  Carter watched the exchange, then sidled over to Shona after Bree left. “He’s going to send his thugs out to open the doors and hand this lot over to the police.”

  “They can try.” Shona patted her pocket, a smirk on her face. “Although they’ll find it a trifle difficult without the keys.” She turned to address the protestors, “If you’ll all come with me …”

  Then, as if she were a docent at an art gallery, she led the crowd deeper into the Outpost.

  BY THE time Kea and Ling caught up with the rest of the team, the stretchers were being prepared for the last climb to Beta. Luis had already swapped the ascent order so that Daniela’s stretcher would be raised first.

  “Is it my imagination or is the level of activity increasing?” Ling asked over the general comms. “I may not be a geologist, but I can sense a change in personality.”

  “The Outpost confirmed that seismic activity is up,” Carlos chimed in, “but we’ve got more immediate problems – bad weather’s moving in. No precipitation, but could still cause issues. We’ll have to be quick.”

  Now that they were so close to basecamp, the tension in the team fell away. A second line was dropped from Beta and the evacuation began in earnest as they tried to beat the approaching storm.

  It wasn’t the weather that concerned them, Kea knew, rather the turbulent mix of warm, moist air and the plume of volcanic gases that could spark a lethal combination of updrafts and lightning within the crater.

  We’re all wearing metal! It’s like we’ve hopped out of the frying pan and into the microwave.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath and remain calm. Panicking would help no one. Metal does not attract lightning, she knew, only height, having a pointy shape, and isolation.

  As panic threatened to reclaim her, Kea gave the closest boulder a hearty punch. It earned her some odd looks from the rest of the team, but it was better than a slap in the face. The sharp pain earned her bloody knuckles but diverted the oncoming panic attack.

  Almost there. Hold on for a few more minutes.

  Time seemed to slow as they raised Daniela up the cliff, but she arrived on Beta without incident. By the time they began to raise Josine, however, the buffeting updrafts caused the stretcher to crash against the cliff face. The paramedics managed to steady it but only after several attempts. Kea cringed with each blow.

  The shifting air pressure caused Kea’s migraine to spike and the rising level of panic on the radio chatter did nothing to calm her. Glancing down the path
they had come, she searched for shelter in case they needed to make a run for it. She spied a handful of boulders a few hundred meters back, but they hardly made good shelter. Nor was there enough space for everyone.

  While everyone else’s eyes were on Josine’s stretcher, Kea saw that Blanca had taken the second line. The woman was using ascenders to swiftly work her way up the cliff with her hands and feet, Francisco steadying the line from below.

  Or at least he was supposed to be.

  With a sinking realization, Kea clocked Francisco’s hunched shoulders and all-too familiar tremors.

  “Oh, come on,” Kea pleaded. “Ten more minutes. Just ten more minutes!” Carefully edging around the others, she tottered over to help, but she was too late. He was on his knees, hurling the contents of his stomach into the fires of Masaya.

  Kea grabbed Blanca’s line and placed a hand on Francisco’s shoulder to prevent him from rolling into the chasm. Behind her, she heard cries of disgust and frustration. “It’s okay!” she called. “Stay back, I’ve got him!” She changed channels to reach Carlos and Alphonso and updated them on Francisco’s condition. “Get everyone else out!”

  “Kea, you can’t stay there,” Carlos said urgently. “I didn’t want to alarm everyone but the storm’s almost on top of us.”

  Kea swore. “Right, keep getting everyone up the other line. Once Blanca’s up, secure this line for Francisco and have him hauled up as soon as possible. We should be outta the splatter zone.”

  “Wilco,” Carlos and Alphonso replied in unison.

  I may have lost all authority on paper, Kea thought, but her immunity to the virus gave her an authority of its own.

  There is probably a monograph in that, she thought, if you were into that sort of thing. She looked over to see Ling was prepping to ascend next.

  A small part of Kea was stung that Ling didn’t linger to see if she needed help.

  To be fair, Kea thought, I did say everyone.

  Kea waited impatiently while Blanca finished her climb. By the time the woman clambered over the top of the cliff, Kea felt ten years older.