Heartbreaker (30 page)

“This
is
the way, so shut up and stay put until I tell you otherwise,” Jess said to him. Then he spoke in a much gentler tone to Lynn. “I want you to hold on to one end of this”—he pushed something that felt like icy wet string into her hand—“while I hold the other end, so I don’t get disoriented in the dark and lose track of where the surface is. I’ll swim down, find the entrance to the passage, and come back to get you.”

“Where did you get the string?” Lynn asked, mystified. All they had were the clothes on their backs, and not many of them. She had seen no string anywhere.

“It’s the gauze you wrapped around my shoulder,” he answered. “You must have used a good fifteen feet of it. Hang on to your end.”

Before she could say anything more, he plunged underwater and was gone. Lynn stared into the darkness, treading water, clutching her end of the gauze for all she was worth.

Not too far away she could hear Louis breathing, but she spared him scarcely a thought.

Her whole being was focused on Jess. Please God, she prayed, please help him. Help us all.

Though her hands, like the rest of her body, had grown numb with cold, she could feel Jess at the other end of the line through the tension on the string. If anything went wrong she would know it.

The gauze went slack. Before she could panic Jess popped up beside her, drawing in air with a loud gasp.

“Are you all right?” Lynn reached out, encountered a bare shoulder, and moved closer until she could feel the movements of his feet and hands with hers. Treading water, she faced him, careful to keep close enough to the wall so that she occasionally brushed against it. Without the wall, and Jess, she feared she might grow disoriented enough to panic, lose her bearings—and drown.

“Fine,” he said. “One good thing about the water being so icy, it works to numb the pain. When I move my arm I can’t feel a thing.”

“Great,” Lynn said.

“It is under the circumstances.”

“Did you find the entrance?” Just having him so near made her feel warmer, Lynn discovered, though the effect had to be purely psychological as he had no body heat to share.

“Yeah. You ready?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to need both arms free, so I’m going to tie the gauze to one of the belt loops on my jeans. Then I’m going to tie it to you. That way we won’t lose each other in the dark.”

“Okay.”

Lynn got the sense that he disappeared beneath the surface, and she guessed he was suiting action to words. She felt a tug at her waist and realized that he was tying the gauze around one of her belt loops too.

“There.”

He surfaced beside her again and must have shaken his wet head like a soggy dog, because she felt a sudden barrage of droplets. Her arm brushed his as their limbs moved back and forth through the water. It was reassuring to know he was so near.

The utter blackness combined with the icy-cold water lapping around her shoulders was starting to unnerve her. It was like being in a cold, wet grave.

“Louis, get over here.”

Splashing sounds and then breathing close at hand announced that Louis had complied with Jess’s order.

“You hang on to the end of this piece of gauze. That’ll keep you with us. Drop it, and you’re on your own. Hear?”

“We’re going to drown,” Louis moaned.

“You will for sure if you don’t hang on to that gauze,” Jess told him. “We’re going to have to swim through the passage single file. I go first. Lynn, you’re behind me. Louis, you bring up the rear. And Louis”—Jess’s voice hardened—“if you screw us up, or cause any problem at all, I’ll drown you myself. And that’s a promise.”

Lynn was still absorbing that when she felt Jess’s mouth against her cheek and turned her head to find it. He kissed her, quick and hard. His lips were as wet and as cold as a corpse’s. But the inside of his mouth was warm.

“See you on the other side,” he whispered in her ear. Then, louder, “Ready?”

“Ready,” Lynn answered.

“Ready, Louis?” Once again his tone was very different.

“I think attempting to swim out of here is a mistake. We should focus our efforts on regaining the safety of that shelf while we still have the strength to try. I’m already growing weak, and—”

“You’re welcome to stay behind and try to get back up on the ledge if you want.” Jess sounded as if he shrugged. “You’re not gonna make it, but there’s nothing stopping you from giving it your best shot. We’re outta here.”

“If we wait, and pray, Yahweh will provide a better way. He has already made it clear that He does not wish me to drown. Doing this is not His will.”

“Yeah, well, if it makes you feel better just look at it this way: God—or in this case Yahweh—helps those who help themselves,” Jess said. “As my grandmother used to say.”

“Even the devil can quote scripture,” Louis replied bitterly.

“Truer words were never spoken,” Jess answered. “Lynn, when I say three we go. Got it?”

“Got it,” Lynn said.

“You coming, Louis?”

“You must join me in asking Yahweh—”

“I wouldn’t ask your Yahweh the way to the mall. One … two …
three
!”

A splash and a tug at her waist told Lynn that Jess was gone. Taking a deep, lung-filling gulp of air, Lynn sent her own prayer winging skyward and went under too, swimming down into the icy dark water, one hand on the gauze that linked her to Jess.

E
LIJAH WAS CRYING AGAIN
. Walking along the gravel road that was really not much more than two parallel trails, Theresa tried soothing him by putting her little finger in his mouth so he could suck. He latched on greedily but spit her pinky out almost at once and resumed wailing. She had used that trick too many times in the last few days for him to be fooled by it for long.

His screaming grated on her nerves. Theresa’s fists clenched then relaxed as she looked down at the golden-haired baby in the makeshift sling. His noise would give them away to anyone within earshot, she knew, but there was nothing she could do about it. Even to save herself, she would not offer him harm again. He was her one precious link with everything and everyone she loved.

But his hiccuping cries were upsetting. Having no relief to offer him, she just joggled him some, which satisfied him not at all. His wailing grew shriller, more demanding. He squirmed, kicking, his tiny fists beating the air, his face redder than a fire engine.

He
sounded
like a fire engine.

“What’s wrong with the baby?” the girl behind her asked.

“He’s hungry.” Theresa kept walking, not even bothering to glance around. She had done her part to help the girl, who’d been crying intermittently ever since she’d emerged from the crawlway, by leading her out of the mine. Since then the girl had stuck to her like a leech, as if she expected Theresa to save her.

She didn’t need anyone else depending on her, Theresa thought. Her efforts had to focus on Elijah—and herself. With her whole family gone now, as she was pretty certain they were, there were only the two of them left.

Whatever the future brought, she had to look after Elijah. When he had awakened in the mine, after she had been so sure he was dead by her hand, she had heard her mother’s voice as clearly as if Sally had been standing next to her.

Take care of your brother
, she had said.

Those were the terms of the miracle, Theresa knew. You can keep him only if you take care of him.

For her mother, her brother, and herself, Theresa meant to do her best.

“Why don’t you stop and feed him?” the girl asked.

“Do I look like I have anything to feed him with?”

This time Theresa did glance back. With her ponytailed blond hair, yellow turtleneck, and slouchy jeans, the girl didn’t look that much different from herself. It was her attitude that was different. She was clearly of the world. She had been to school, to movies and malls and restaurants. She had friends, maybe even a boyfriend.

A twinge of envy, which she almost immediately dismissed as ungodly, narrowed Theresa’s eyes.

“Can’t you, uh, nurse it or something?”

“He’s not my son, he’s my brother.”

“Oh.” The girl was quiet for a minute. Then, “Would he eat this?”

Theresa glanced over her shoulder again, then stopped walking and turned to face the girl, who was holding out a flat, ruler-size rectangle wrapped in yellow and white cellophane.

“What is it?” she asked, ignoring the rumble in her own stomach. How long since she had eaten? she wondered, then decided she was better off not knowing the answer.

“Beef jerky. I had some in my pocket.”

“Thank you.” Theresa took the package and placed it between her teeth. As she ripped the package open, the smell, spicy and tantalizing, made her salivate. Glancing down at howling Elijah, whose face was redder than ever and wet and crumpled with distress, she removed the opened package from her own mouth and extracted the strip of brown meat.

Getting it into his mouth was not a problem. He was crying with such intensity that she could see clear back to his tonsils. Touching his cheek with a finger, murmuring to him, she placed one end of the strip on his tongue and kept hold of the other end so he wouldn’t take too much and choke.

He sputtered, gulped, and closed his mouth around the jerky like a fish taking bait. His face was still red, his blue eyes still teary as he met her gaze, but he gummed the meat. And frowned. Theresa supposed that he didn’t like the taste, but he didn’t let up, sucking and chewing for all he was worth.

Theresa watched him use the new tooth that had been such a source of pride for their mother. She felt a sharp pang of loss.

“He likes it,” the girl said.

Theresa glanced up at her. “What’s your name?”

“Rory.”

“I’m Theresa.”

“I know.”

Theresa nodded, then looked back at the baby. “This is Elijah,” she said.

“Hello, Elijah.” The girl met Theresa’s gaze. “Why are you and he all alone? Where’s the rest of your family?”

Theresa felt a surge of emotion, which she immediately forced back. As Daddy had said more than once, you do what you have to do when you have to do it. She would mourn later.

“They’re all dead. Those men who attacked us in your car—they killed them. I saw my cousin—his throat was slit. The others—my mom and brothers and sisters—were lying there in the grass, too. They were so still.…” Still holding the end of the jerky while Elijah chewed ravenously at it, she turned her back and started walking again.

“Was that your family down at the mining camp?” Rory asked, sounding both awed at the prospect and sympathetic, too, as she fell into step beside Theresa. “We—my mom and Jess, who’s kind of our guide, and me—found the bodies, but the killers saw us. They started shooting at us—only they looked like ghosts because they were all white and floating when we first saw them. But they have to be the same men. Don’t they?”

“They are the Elders, and they wear white robes when they do their Work. They didn’t have them on back there at your car,” Theresa said. “Let’s not talk about it, please.”

She could not think about her family and their fate anymore. If she did she would surely die of grief.

“Okay.”

They trudged on for a few minutes without speaking. Then Rory said, “Look, my mom’s back there.”

Theresa had already been witness to Rory’s near-hysteria at leaving her mother behind.

“So’s mine,” Theresa said quietly.

“But mine’s alive,” Rory insisted. “I have to bring help back to her. Does this road
go
anywhere?”

There would be no help for her own mother, Theresa knew. But maybe—the idea was born reluctantly—she could help Rory save hers.

Rory had provided food for Elijah.

“Into town, eventually,” Theresa said. “But it’s a long way.”

“How far?” Rory asked.

“It usually takes about two hours.”

“To walk? That’s not so far.”

“To drive.”

“Oh.” Rory absorbed this, then looked at Theresa with despair. Theresa realized that Rory was fighting back tears again. “Do you know anywhere around here where I can go for help?”

Theresa thought about it, then shook her head.

“Then I’ve got to go back and help my mom.” Rory stopped walking.

“Wait,” Theresa said as Rory turned to head back toward the mine. “Can you drive?”

W
ITHOUT THE TAUT GAUZE
to guide her Lynn would have been lost. Deprived of sight and hearing and the ability to speak, her skin aching from the frigid temperature of the water, she followed Jess down and then forward. Her breaststrokes were rusty but adequate. Her fingers brushing rock walls on two sides told her when they entered the passage.

Her lungs began to hurt. How long had they been underwater? Thirty seconds? A minute? More? It seemed like an hour. It seemed like an eternity.

The gauze slackened. Lynn caught up to Jess, touched his leg, his back. He had stopped and seemed to be in trouble. His movements were not the rhythmic strokes of a swimmer, but the struggles of a man … doing what? In the violent throes of drowning? Battling another survivor, like Louis?

Her lungs felt as if they would burst. Lynn pushed beside Jess, meaning to pass him if need be, desperate to survive, to reach air. Her outstretched hands encountered rock. She realized that the passage was, as she had feared, blocked.

They had to turn back.

But Jess was working to clear the blockage. Those were the frenzied movements she had felt. Fighting panic, Lynn stayed put, clawing at the barrier, dislodging stones of various sizes. She could feel them shift under her hands, feel the disturbance of water around her as they fell. How many were there? How long would clearing an opening take—if it could even be done?

If they did not turn back soon, it would be too late. There would be no time to make it to the oxygen that she knew was behind them in the chamber they had just left. There would be no time for anything at all.

They would die, their bodies floating lifelessly in the passage they had drowned in. In time when the water went down, the corpses, hopelessly bloated by then, would be recovered.