Excavation

Denal pulled the lamp from his own pocket and flicked on the purplish light. “I no ask. I go.” The boy then turned and jumped over the lip’s edge.

“Denal!” Sam yelled, rushing to the river.

Maggie stopped Sam from leaping in after him. She followed the boy’s path in the current. He bobbed in the water as it thrust him back and forth in the narrow channel, but he managed to keep the lamp thrust above the water, its purplish glow a beacon in the dark cave. Then the river carried him past a curve in the wall and down a tunnel.

“Damn kid picked my pocket,” Sam muttered, a mixture of respect and worry in his voice.

“He’ll make it,” Maggie said.

The waiting quickly grew intolerable. None dared speak lest they miss Denal’s call.

Only Ralph hung back at the foot path, keeping an eye on the spiders. “Here comes the main army,” he warned.

Maggie swung around. It was as if a foaming white surf crested just at the edge of their light’s reach. “C’mon, Denal, don’t let us down.”

As if the boy had heard her, a sharp distant cry echoed from farther in the caves. Denal had made it.

“Thank God,” Sam sighed. “Let’s get out of here.”

Norman quickly finished packing his gear into a waterproof case while Ralph climbed over to join them, eyes still on the tarantulas.

Sam unslung the Winchester and nodded for Ralph to do the same with his rifle. “Try to keep your gun above water. The rifles could probably survive a short dip, but I’d rather keep them dry.”

Ralph finally turned and eyed the water with a sick expression. “To hell with the rifle, I just hope I can keep my own head above water.” He raised his face to the other three. “I can’t swim.”

“What?” Sam exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell us that before?”

Ralph shrugged. “Because Maggie was right. The river’s the only way out of here.”

Norman shoved up next to them. “I’ll stick with Ralph. I did a stint in water rescue in the army.”

Ralph frowned at him, disbelieving. “You were in the army?”

“Three years at Fort Ord, until I was discharged during a witch-hunt at my base.” Norman’s face took on a bitter cast. “So much for don’t ask, don’t tell.”

Ralph shook his head. “I’ll take my chances on my own.”

The photographer’s face grew fierce. He snapped at Ralph, “Like hell you will, you brain-addled jock. Quit this macho posturing and accept some help. It’s not like I’m gonna try to cop a feel. You’re not even my type!” Norman shoved his camera case at Ralph, his voice serious. “It’s insulated with foam. It’s meant to float after a raft capsizes. Keep the damn thing clutched to your chest, and I’ll do the rest.”

Ralph took the case reluctantly. “What about this?” He held up Gil’s rifle.

Sam reached for it. “I’ll manage both.”

He reached for the gun, but Maggie snatched it first. “Two guns will weigh you down, Sam. The flashlight is waterproof and doesn’t weigh nary a bit.”

Sam hesitated, then nodded. “At the first sign of trouble, toss the rifle away. We need the light more than we need a second gun.”

She nodded at his advice. “Let’s go. The spiders aren’t gonna like their meal escaping.”

Sam waved for Norman and Ralph to go first, just in case of trouble. Sam and Maggie would follow.

Norman slid down to a small spit of rock just above the waterline, arms cartwheeling for balance. “Now,” he called up to Ralph.

The large football player bit his lower lip, clutched the camera case to his chest, and jumped in before his fear of the water drove him away.

Maggie kept her light focused on them. Norman dived in smoothly, his lithe form coming up beside the floundering black man. “Lie on your back!” Norman yelled as the current dragged the two away. “Hug the case tight to your chest!”

Ralph fumbled around a bit more, coughing water and kicking frantically.

“Don’t fight it!”

Ralph finally obeyed, rolling to his back.

Norman swam at his side, one hand snarled in the neck of Ralph’s shirt, keeping the man’s head above water. As the two drifted away, Norman admonished the big man with one final warning. “Keep tight to that case,” he sputtered. “Lose my cameras, and I’ll let you drown!”

“We’re next,” Sam said, shoving his Stetson into his pack. “You ready?”

Maggie took a deep breath and nodded.

“You gonna be okay?” he said, straightening and meeting her eyes.

Maggie knew he was referring to her panic attacks more than the threat from the water. “It was my idea, wasn’t it? I’ll be fine.”

“You first then,” he said.

She opened her mouth to argue when she felt a tickle on her leg. Glancing down, she saw a tarantula as large as a fist climbing up her khakis. Gasping in disgust, she knocked it away with her flashlight. Raising Gil’s snub-nosed rifle above her head, she jumped gracelessly into the water.