Excavation

Then the bat was on her again. Maggie felt a small tug on her hair trailing in the water. Like a hooked fish, the bat had snatched at this purchase. Now twisting and rolling, it climbed the tangled strands. Maggie felt tiny claws scratch at her scalp. The bat screeched wildly, almost in her ear.

The creature’s distress call was answered from above. The cavern erupted with squeaks and supersonic piping, like fingernails dragged across a blackboard. Overhead, the roof seemed to drop lower as the entire massed colony took flight, diving toward the screeching bat tangled in Maggie’s hair.

Oh, God! She beat at the winged creature with her flashlight, trying to club it away, but only succeeded in snarling it further. Claws ripped across her cold cheek, a line of fire.

Suddenly a hand appeared, pushing back her flashlight. “Hold still!”

It was Sam. He grabbed the squirming bat and ripped it from its nest in her hair, tearing out hundreds of roots along with the foul creature. He tossed it away. The bat hit the far bank with a wet smack.

“Here they come!” Sam yelled.

Maggie barely had time to see the dark cloud descend toward them, and even less time to take a breath, before Sam shoved her head underwater. Maggie would have panicked, but Sam held tight to her, his body close to hers, his touch the only warmth in the icy stream. She released control to him, letting him carry her as she held her trapped breath.

Soon the channel straightened, and the current grew swift and smooth. Maggie risked opening her eyes. The flashlight still glowed under the water, illuminating Sam’s face. His blond hair, normally plastered under his Stetson, wove like fine kelp across his face. His eyes met hers. She drew strength from his solid gaze. He pulled her tighter to him. She didn’t resist.

The current dragged them swiftly away, tumbling them to and fro. Maggie’s lungs cried for air. Unable to hold out any longer, she wiggled slightly from Sam’s grasp and pushed toward the surface. She would only risk a quick breath.

As her head popped from the water, she gulped air into her frozen lungs. She was ready to duck back down, when she noticed two things-the air had cleared of the burning sting and just ahead a small purplish glow lit the left bank.

Sam surfaced beside her with a whoosh of expelled air.

Maggie lifted her flashlight and pointed. “There!”

Sam twisted around. As they neared the site, Maggie spotted Norman helping Ralph from the water. The huge football player crawled on hands and knees. Atop the bank, Denal was limned in the eerie light of the Wood’s lamp. His teeth shone a whitish purple as he waved the lamp overhead, signaling to them.

Together, Maggie and Sam kicked toward the shore, but they didn’t have to struggle far. The channel curved with a deep natural eddy at the bend. The current tossed Maggie and Sam into the sluggish pocket. With limbs deadened by cold and clothes waterlogged, it was an effort to climb from the water. Like Ralph, Maggie found herself crawling onto the bank and collapsing on her back.

Sam threw himself across the rock beside her, tossing his Winchester up higher on the stony bank. “So much for keeping the guns dry.”

Norman stepped beside Maggie. His teeth chattered as he spoke. “Y…you both need to keep moving. And…and get out of those wet clothes.” He tugged off his own soaked shirt.

Maggie noticed Denal had already stripped to his skivvies, and Ralph was slowly kicking off his clinging pants.

“We’re not out of danger yet,” Norman continued. “That water was near freezing. We’ll die unless we can get dry and warm.”

Maggie found her limbs beginning to tremble. Sam glanced at her. “It’s j…just the cold,” she said, knowing what he was thinking.

“Up with the both of you,” Norman said sternly.

Groaning, Sam pushed up as the photographer offered Maggie his arm. Too exhausted to object, she took Norman’s hand and let him help her to her feet.

“Now strip,” he said.

Maggie’s fingers were numb and blue in the flashlight beam. She fumbled at her buttons and shrugged out of her shirt, too cold and exhausted to worry about exposing herself. Hell, she thought, yanking her zipper down, a good blush would be welcome right now.

Soon she stood in nothing but her wet bra and panties.

The others kept their eyes politely turned, except Denal who stared widely at her. Once the boy realized he was caught gaping, he quickly looked away.

Maggie scowled to cover her grin. She slapped Sam on his damp boxers as she stepped past him. “Norman says to keep moving. We have to stay warm.”

Maggie could feel Sam’s eyes on her back as she moved away. The Texan mumbled behind her, “Oh, don’t worry. Keep walking ahead of me dressed like that, and I’ll be plenty warm.”

This time she couldn’t hide her smile.

“Th…this must lead somewhere,” Sam said, trying to control his chattering teeth, as he pointed out the gold path that continued along the river.