Killing Hour - Lisa Gardner [136]
“Does this stovepipe go to the cave?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s a skylight in the main chamber right beneath your feet.”
“I’ve been talking down it. I don’t know if she can hear anything . . .”
“She probably appreciates that,” Shudt said.
“Can I go with you?”
“You have any gear?”
“Just what I’m wearing.”
“That’s not gear. In a cave, it’s fifty-five degrees every day of the year. Feels like a fucking refrigerator, and that’s before you get into the water. To enter Orndorff’s Cavern, we gotta descend forty feet by rope into knee-high water. Then we get to wiggle through thirty feet of watery tunnel that’s ’bout twelve inches high. Good news is then we enter the main chamber, which has a forty-foot vault. Assuming, of course, we don’t run into a rabid raccoon or a ring-necked snake.”
“Snakes?” Kimberly asked weakly.
“Yes, ma’am. At least there are no bats. Orndorff’s Cavern is dying, sad to say. And even if the bats had still found it an acceptable hibernaculum, this time of year they’re out eating bugs. October through April, it’s another story. Never a dull moment being a caver.”
“I thought you guys were called spelunkers.”
“No, ma’am. We’re cavers. Cavers rescue spelunkers. So don’t you worry. Just let us do our thing, and we’ll find your missing person. She got a name?”
“Karen or Tina.”
“She has two names?”
“We don’t know which victim she is.”
“Ah man, I really don’t want to know more about your case. You do your thing. We’ll do ours.”
Shudt walked back to his pile of gear, snapping on his coveralls, while Mac and Nora Ray finally came running over. Everyone made curt introductions, then Mac, Kimberly, and Nora Ray were left standing awkwardly to the side while the three men finished suiting up, strapped on packs, then donned thick hiking boots and tough leather gloves.
They had piles of brightly colored rope among them. In deft movements they coiled up the various heavy-duty lengths, then looped them over their shoulders. They seemed to be down to final adjustments then, testing out multiple light sources, adjusting their hard hats. Finally Shudt grunted approval at each man’s gear, returned to the back of his truck, and pulled out a long backboard.
For transporting the victim out of the cave. In case she couldn’t walk on her own. Or in case she was dead.
Shudt looked over at Mac. “We could use a spotter to help man the ropes up top. Ever worked with a belay?”
“I’ve done some rock climbing.”
“Then you’re our man. Let’s go.”
Shudt turned one last time toward Kimberly.
“Keep talking down the pipe,” he told her quietly. “You never know.”
The men turned and walked into the woods. Kimberly sank back down to the ground. Nora Ray joined her in the dust.
“What do we say?” the girl murmured.
“What did you want to hear most?”
“That it was going to end. That I was going to be okay.”
Kimberly thought about it a moment. Then she cupped her hands and leaned over the pipe. “Karen? Tina? This is Kimberly Quincy again. The search-and-rescue workers are on their way. Do you hear me? The tough part is over. Soon, we’ll have you home to your family again. Soon, you’ll be safe.”
Tina had gouged as much as she could gouge. She had started at knee level, digging holes up as far as she could reach. Then, as an experiment, she’d crammed her muddy toes into the first two rough holes, gripped other ragged edges with her hands, and climbed up a whole two feet.
Her legs shook violently. She felt at once light as a feather and as heavy as an anchor. She would rocket to the top like a human spider. She would plummet to the ground and never get up again.
“Come on,” she whispered through her parched, cracked lips. And then she started to climb.
Three feet up. Her arms now shook as violently as her legs and her stomach contracted with a painful cramp. She rested her head against