Running Scared (5 page)

“Hey, I see the walls of the cave,” a man in the crowd announced. “Is that normal?”

“Absolutely,” Chuck's deep voice answered. “You're seeing images your brain is painting, since your brain can't decipher total blackness. The images would go away if you stayed in the dark for a while. Try waving your hand in front of your face. See anything?”

Jack could feel a slight breeze from his hand, which was probably just inches from his nose, but his brain didn't register. All he could see were strange phantom images that floated in front of his eyes. No hand, no nothing. Feeling slightly off balance with no visual reference points, he teetered a little in his sneakers.

“J-J-Jack?” Sam whispered, clutching Jack's arm in a vise-like grip. “I'm scared!”

“I'm right here, Mini-Me,” Jack answered softly.

When Laura turned on her flashlight, it was surprising how much illumination one small light cast. “Now,” she said, “we'll light all the lanterns again.” Both rangers flicked on Bic lighters, then went from one tourist to another, holding flame to candle until all the lanterns had been lit. It felt like a solemn religious ceremony, ending with illumination that now appeared startlingly bright.

When it was over, Laura asked, “Before we resume the tour, does anyone have any questions about the part of the tunnel we've already seen?”

“Ques…,” Consuela began, raising her hand. “When is the bird?”

“I'm sorry?” The ranger cupped her hand to her ear. “What was your question?” She frowned as though she weren't sure what she'd heard. “Something about a bird?”

“The bird. From the…in the car…. You know. Gloves.”

As Jack stared at Consuela in disbelief, her hand went slack on his arm. Almost in slow motion, she crumbled and slid to the floor of the cave with a gentle thump.

“Move back!” the tourists began shouting. “A woman's fainted here. Give her room! Give her air!”

The ranger who'd been guiding the tour knelt next to Consuela's unconscious form. “She's breathing,” she murmured. The other ranger rushed to Consuela's side and put his ear to her lips. Raising her left wrist, he checked her pulse, while the rest of the group strained forward to see what had happened.

A tall young man unzipped his backpack and said, “I've got my cell phone in here—do you want me to call somebody for help? It looks like she's really out of it.”

The ranger answered, “Your cell phone won't work in this tunnel. But if you'll go to the Big Room as quick as you can, there's a phone in there that connects to the visitor center up above. Tell them we have an emergency here, and we need a crew with a stretcher to be dispatched right away. And tell them they'd better call Station Four to send an ambulance.”

Ashley cried softly to Jack, “What do you think is happening to her?”

“She passed out,” Jack told her. “But she was talking and acting funny for at least ten minutes before we got to the tour group. Her feet were, like, all wobbly—she was hanging on to me like she couldn't stand up straight.”

The ranger named Chuck had pulled off his jacket to fold it under Consuela's head. “We need a first-aid crew,” he was saying. “I don't know what's wrong with her, but it's more than just a simple fainting spell.”

Ashley stared wide-eyed at Jack, her lips forming words she wasn't about to speak out loud. Jack knew that both of them were thinking the same thing: Sam had seen Consuela inject herself with drugs, or so he claimed. Jack and Ashley had refused to believe him, had scolded Sam for even saying such a thing, but what if Sam had been right? “Should we tell the ranger?” Ashley whispered.

“What if something else is wrong with her?” Jack answered softly. “If we say maybe she took drugs, she could lose her job.”

Consuela had begun to moan, “What am I—? Find the cat.” Then, sounding angry, “Get your hands off!”

“Take it easy,” Chuck told her. “You fainted.”

“No I'm not. The chicken,” Consuela said, slurring her words. “Too fast.”

One of the women tourists said, “She's delirious, and she's shaking. Here, put my jacket on top of her.” A man leaned forward to suggest, “It could be claustrophobia. My mother-in-law had claustrophobia. When she was in small places she'd really freak out. But I don't think she ever passed out, at least I don't remember.”

Chuck didn't answer because he'd lifted Consuela's right wrist and was staring at it. “Laura, shine that flashlight here,” he told her. When Laura did, Chuck bent down for a closer look.

“Uh-oh,” Ashley whispered. “Is he looking for needle marks?” In school, they'd been taught all about drug abuse and the signs of it.

Instead, Chuck was asking Consuela, “What's this bracelet? Can you tell me about this bracelet? This bracelet on your arm,” he repeated.

Who cares about a bracelet at a time like this, Jack thought, wondering why the ranger was so insistent on examining the bracelet in the lantern light. Suddenly, Ashley said, “Hey, Jack. Turn around. Listen to me!”

“What?” Reluctantly, Jack pulled his eyes away from Consuela, who was muttering unintelligibly now.

“It's Sammy,” Ashley answered. “I can't see him. Where the heck is Sammy?”

Jack looked around. “I don't know. He was right behind me a little while ago. Is he somewhere in the middle of these tourists? Is that him over there?”

“No, that's another blond kid, not Sam.”

Ashley worked her way through the group, then returned to answer, “He's not here. Maybe he slipped out to the Big Room with that guy who went to make the phone call.”

“He couldn't have,” Jack told her. “Look, the people are so jammed up here they're blocking the path. No one can get past. And the rangers and Consuela are in front of us, so we'd have seen him if he went around them. There's no way he could have gone out of the tunnel.”

Ashley bit her lip. “Then he must have gone into the tunnel,” she declared. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he was mad at me.”

“Mad at you? What for?”

“'Cause I sort of yelled at him a while back. But he couldn't go far into the tunnel because he can't see back there in the dark.”

“Maybe he can. I think he picked up the lantern that Consuela dropped,” Ashley stated. “That little brat! He's gone in there, and we'll have to go after him. Come on, Jack, before he goes too far and gets lost. Hurry!”

J
ack and Ashley rushed into the dark tunnel—or tried to rush. With only one lantern to light their steps, they moved cautiously, remembering what Consuela had told them about staying on the path. If they bumped into a formation, or worse, tripped and tried to catch themselves by reaching out, they could damage these amazing natural sculptures. Though it had taken the stalagmites and stalactites tens of thousands of years to form, a single misstep could destroy them.

“Sam can't have gotten very far,” Ashley was saying. “It's as dark in here for him as it is for us, so he can't see any better than we can. And anyway, his legs are shorter.”

“But we're not sure how much of a head start he got,” Jack reminded her. “So don't blame me if—”

“Who said I was blaming you?” Ashley snapped, stopping in her tracks.

“I mean, it wasn't all my fault—you could have been keeping a watch on him, too.”

“You're the one who yelled at him and made him run away,” she argued. “Anyway, he's always hanging on to you. He hardly even talks to me, so why should I take the blame if Sammy disappears in here and they have to call out a search party….” Her voice trailed off as both of them realized how bad things could actually get. “Anyway, we shouldn't panic. He can't be far.”

“Maybe we should start calling him,” Jack suggested.

“If we do, the rangers will hear us, and we'll get in trouble for leaving the group. I just want to get Sam and get back before anyone knows we're gone. Then none of us will be in trouble.” She hesitated before asking, “Do you think Consuela's going to be OK?”

“I…I don't know. I think so. I hope so.”

“Do you think she's on drugs like Sam said?”

Jack shrugged. “She was acting funny before she passed out, but I've never been around anyone who was high. It's possible she was sick with a fever or something.”

“Except she didn't look sick to me. Just…weird. And all that stuff she was saying with her words backward and stuff….” Ashley sighed as Jack held up the lantern. The yellow light showed her forehead furrowed, a sure sign she was worried. “I really feel bad that I didn't believe Sam,” she told Jack. “I bet that's why he ran off.”

“We'll apologize when we find him. But we'd better move it or we'll never catch up to him.”

They hurried on in silence, following the path as it narrowed, twisting back and forth as it pierced deep into the cave's belly. Minutes crawled by, how many Jack wasn't sure, and yet there was still no sign of Sam. They were going far—too far—although logic told Jack they had to be closing in on Sam. Jack's footsteps were muffled by the soft earth as he kicked up small clouds of cave dust that drifted and then settled back onto the sculpted stone. They rounded another bend and saw more ghostly figures, gray and lifeless, stalagmite arms outstretched as if to grab them as they walked by. Glancing behind, he could no longer make out the soft glow of the group's lanterns. There was nothing but inky blackness to his side, in front, everywhere he could see. How far had they gone? It was so hard to judge distance when there was nothing but darkness surrounding them. His heart sank as he realized they'd gone dangerously far inside the cave. What if Sam had veered off onto a side trail? What if he was hurt? How could they find someone if the person didn't want to be found? No, they would have to go back. Consuela had probably been treated and taken away by now, and the group might even be looking for them. It was time to quit trying.

Stopping next to a pillar that looked like a tall, frosted cake, he set his lantern down. “Ashley, we've gone as far as we can. We have to stop—” he began.

“No, wait! I think I've found something!” Ashley cried, grabbing the lantern. “Is that a footprint in the dirt next to the path?”

Impatient, Jack answered, “Lots of people go through this tunnel, so there are probably lots of footprints. We've got to give it up and get some help. Sam's gone.”

“But this one's off the path, and it's smeared a little bit like someone might have been running, and then they sort of slipped. And look—it's going toward that narrow corridor. Do you think he would have been scared enough to go off the trail?”

“Right now, I think he could do anything.” Jack knelt to get a closer look at the footprint, taking the lantern and lowering it almost to the ground. The print might have been from Sam's sneaker; it looked about the right size, with a pattern like tire treads etched in powdery silt. “If this is his, then he must have turned that way,” Jack said, pointing to an even narrower corridor that forked to the left. “Sam!” he yelled. “Sammy, are you in there? Where are you? It's me and Ashley. You've got to come out, right now.”

When there was no answer, Ashley shook her head. “What do you expect? If he's running away, he's not going to tell us where he is. I say we go after him.”

As the older brother, Jack felt he should be the one to make the decisions, not Ashley. He was 13, Ashley only 11. So OK, decide, he told himself. Turn back, find the rangers, and ask for help? Or keep looking for Sam on their own—after all, as Ashley had said, Sam couldn't be very far ahead of them. But which direction? Should they take a chance and go into that turnoff, hoping the footprint was Sammy's and that was the way he went? Or figure it was someone else's footprint and stay on the marked path a little longer?

As Jack hesitated, Ashley cried, “Jack! Down there in that turnoff—I see a light! It's gotta be Sam's lantern. Maybe we can get him and go back before anyone knows he's been missing. Come on, let's go!” When Jack didn't move quickly enough to suit her, she said impatiently, “If you aren't coming, at least give me the lantern so I can see where I'm going.”

“I'm coming, I'm coming,” he grumbled. “I hope you know what you're talking about, because I don't see any light.”

Ashley's braids whipped behind her as she turned toward the corridor. “Follow me!” she commanded. “You're blind as a bat.”

“Bats aren't blind,” he reminded her. “Dr. Rhodes said so.”

The turnoff led to a much narrower tunnel, with no marked path. The more steps they took, the rougher the ground became. Then Jack saw what Ashley was talking about—a small light in the distance. Oddly, it looked green, rather than gold like the flame in Jack's lantern. Since he'd never been in a cave, he didn't know whether atmospheric differences—or whatever—might make a flame change color. The green light wasn't moving, so Sam must have stopped running. Probably he was sitting down waiting for them to find him.

Sharp, uneven rock jutted up from the narrow path, at times slowing Jack and Ashley to a snail's pace. Once, Jack missed a step and felt the bite of rock against his forearm, cold and sharp. Steadying himself, he realized with relief he hadn't broken any of the irreplaceable formations. Vowing to be even more careful, he cautiously made his way forward, one foot placed gingerly in front of the other as if he were walking a tightrope. The light ahead guided him, staring at him like a single, shimmering, green eye.

Pausing, he cupped his free hand to his mouth. “Sam,” he called as loudly as he could, “we're here! You don't have to be afraid anymore.”

Silence. After a moment, Jack thought he heard a single drip hit water, although he couldn't see anything but the eerie formations.

“Come on, Sammy, say something!” Ashley demanded. “Are you afraid about Consuela? She's going to be fine.

Pick up your lantern and walk toward us.” Another pause. “Just do it, Sammy—we've got to get back!”

Jack had always imagined that a cave would echo, but Ashley's words seemed to get sucked into the blackness. The light ahead didn't move the slightest bit.

“I guess he's going to make us go all the way up there to get him,” Ashley sighed. “What a pain he's turned out to be.”

It took another five minutes before Jack realized what they'd been walking toward. At first, his eyes couldn't process the fact that the light wasn't on the ground, but suspended almost four feet in the air, a small, round circle that didn't flicker or move like his own candle did. Then, when he finally got within ten feet, he understood. The light they'd been chasing hadn't been a lantern at all but rather a flat glass reflector fastened on top of a metal pole. The green glow was nothing more than a reflection of their own lantern light, a fool's gold that had drawn them far into the corridor. They'd been wasting their time; worst of all, Sam was nowhere to be found.

“Great, just great,” Jack muttered. “We've been chasing air.”

Ashley seemed bewildered as she stared at the reflector. “Sorry. I really thought it was Sam. What is this thing?”

“I guess it's a marker of some kind. I don't know what it's for, but it sure has messed us up. We've been gone 15, maybe 20 minutes already. You realize that the rangers are probably already looking for us. This whole thing is getting to be big trouble.”

“I said I was sorry! What else do you want me to do?”

“So you agree that we've got to go back and get help now?”

Scowling, Ashley gave a terse nod. It wasn't really her fault, Jack knew. He'd gone along with her plan. But he could feel panic starting to spread through his insides, the same as when he gulped a glass of cold water on a hot day. Time was ticking by, and with each second Sammy could be getting more lost while he and Ashley could be getting into more and more trouble. What were the first instructions drilled into him every time he went camping? Stay with the group. Don't leave the trail. But here he was, wandering in a cave, away from any adult or ranger. Well, he'd be the leader now. It was time to give it up and get help.

Holding his lantern high, Jack began retracing his steps. The layer of cave dust was lighter here, which made the popcorn formations appear whiter, like real popped kernels glittering with crystals. He shuddered when he saw a half-mummified body of a bat next to the trail, and wondered how many of the creatures were in these small side passages. They don't swarm until night, he reminded himself. Just keep going. Don't think about them. Think about Sam. It was possible Sam had already returned to the tour group, and everyone was sitting at the part of Left Hand Tunnel known as The Beach, just waiting for them to show up. And Consuela—what about her? Had the medics taken her away by now? Had—

“Jack, you're going the wrong way. That's not the way we came.”

“What?” Jack stopped and held the lantern to Ashley's face. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest as if she were cold, and she was shaking her head.

“See how this tunnel splits? You're going to the left. We came from the right.”

Peering into the darkness, Jack realized the trail divided like an artery. How had he missed it? But his sister was wrong—this was the path they'd walked. He was almost sure of it.

“Ashley, this is the right one. Look, when I turn around, I can see the reflector perfectly.”

“But watch me. I'm walking down this path.” She disappeared into the second trail. “And when I turn around,” she said, her voice distant and muffled, “I can still see the reflector, too.”

Jack blinked. Mentally, he tried to retrace the trail, but all of the formations had begun to look the same. Melted columns and stalactites marched alongside the trail, row after row of lifeless gray rock. Wasn't that large pear-shaped formation the exact one he'd seen earlier? Yes, now he was sure of it—he remembered thinking how round the bottom of the stone had swelled. He'd seen that formation before, which meant he was going the right way, and this time, he would listen to his own gut. Ashley would have to follow him, for once.

When his sister reappeared, he tried to sound more confident than he felt. “Ashley, I remember this trail.

If we think it's wrong, we can turn back and go your way. OK?”

She hesitated, until Jack reminded her that he was the one with the light. Then, lantern high, he turned resolutely down the path he'd decided on.

As they walked, Jack wavered between absolute certainty and absolute doubt. A stalagmite that stretched up like a witch's finger was one he'd seen before; yes, he convinced himself, he was going the right way. But then he saw a group of rocks that looked like turtles crawling one over the other, and he wondered if Ashley had been right, after all, because he sure didn't remember anything that looked like that. Twice more there were splits in the path, and each time Jack tried to stay on the main trail, studying the ground for footprints that weren't there. He could make out smudges, but were they from their feet or from others who'd been there long ago? In this windless tunnel, footsteps could last for years, couldn't they? Ashley had grown quiet, which made Jack even more nervous. He almost wished she'd insist that they go back. One thing was sure, they should be hitting the main trail any minute. Any minute now…any….

He tried to mark their progress by the time that had passed, but because he hadn't checked his watch when they'd started, he wasn't sure how long it had been.

His instincts told him the trail should be right up ahead. The passageway narrowed so that he had to turn sideways, his right arm outstretched. No, he hadn't had to do that before. This was all wrong! Good grief! Where were they?

Ashley, for once, didn't say “I told you so.” Instead, she flattened herself as much as she could against the rock and motioned for Jack to step around her and go first.

“We haven't lost that much time,” she told him. “We'll get back to that one fork, and then we'll get back to the main trail. It's no big deal.”

Sometimes it seemed as if his sister could read his thoughts. He just nodded and moved to the front, the lantern swaying in his hand.

The first thing he realized was that he could no longer see the reflector. It had disappeared from view, which meant that they'd definitely gone the wrong way. Jack rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand and tried not to panic. They'd stay on the trail and retrace their steps. Simple.