Beckon (8 page)

Ben's voice came from the darkness behind him. “Forget your pack, you idiot! Just get out of there!”

But everything Jack valued was inside that pack. His camera and the appendage specimen . . . No one would ever believe he'd been here without them. He'd never be able to prove anything. He lingered a moment longer, scanning the ground until Ben's voice jolted him from his search and Jack took off after him.

In moments they came to the edge of the cavern and what looked like a dead end. Ben pointed to another opening about six or eight feet up, just large enough to squeeze through. A thin stream of water was trickling out of it.

Ben climbed the wall and scrambled into the opening. Jack struggled up a couple feet but couldn't find any grip on the wet surface until Ben reached a hand down and pulled him up.

They wasted no time climbing the tunnel, ascending at a relatively steep angle. Water poured past them, and Jack could barely manage to keep up. The only question he had now was, could the cave spiders climb as well?

Ben and Jack continued to claw their way up until Jack's knees and elbows were scraped raw and throbbing. But he knew he couldn't slow down. Within a few moments they emerged onto a cramped, level area where Jack had to stop and catch his breath.

Ben shone his light back down the tunnel and shook his head. “What were you thinking? Why didn't you run?”

Jack closed his eyes. “I don't know. I . . . I had to get a better look at it. To see what we're up against.”

“Not sure if you know this, but we're running for our lives here. It's not like we have the luxury to sit around and study them.”

“Look, any details we can learn could help us survive.”

“Not if you get yourself killed learning it.”

Jack sat up. “Well, now I'm pretty sure they're blind. That one didn't react at all to my light. So that means they most likely make that clicking sound for echolocation. Like a bat.”

“Great, they're blind,” Ben grunted. “They still don't seem to have any trouble locating us.”

Jack figured it was valuable information nonetheless, despite the danger he'd put himself in. Even though, had Ben not stepped in, Jack would've likely ended up like Rudy.

Jack rubbed his eyes. “But anyway . . . thanks for saving me . . . again.”

“Yeah.” Ben pointed up the passage. “We need to keep moving.”

They crawled along on hands and knees, but the passage became increasingly narrow and soon they had to proceed on their bellies. Before long, Jack could hear the water flowing louder. And it sounded like more than just a minor trickle.

Finally the passage widened, and they found themselves in a small, mud-filled chamber. A steady stream of water poured down through an opening above their heads.

Jack's lungs burned as he sucked in gasps of air. “I . . . could use another break. . . .”

Ben paused and shone his light back down the passage. Jack rolled over to peer into the tunnel as well. Amid the shadows and rocks, he spotted a flurry of legs scurrying up the passage toward them.

“They're coming up the tunnel!”

“C'mon.” Ben grabbed his arm. “I'll boost you up.”

He interlocked his fingers, and Jack stepped into his grasp and scrambled through the opening overhead. Fighting to get a handhold amid the water and mud, he clawed his way into a low, wide space above them. Water streamed down through numerous fissures, some of it pouring into the opening he'd just climbed through, but the majority of the flow washed off down a secondary passage into complete darkness.

Jack heard Ben's frantic voice from the chamber below.

“Pull me up!”

Jack reached down and caught Ben's hands. He was tugging Ben up through the opening when suddenly Ben let out a terrified shriek. Jack felt him slipping back down the hole.

“My legs . . .”

Jack struggled to get a foothold, clinging to Ben's hands as the cave spiders played tug-of-war with his lower half. Ben screamed in pain and kicked his legs furiously. But the passage was too low for Jack to orient himself to gain any leverage.

“Hang on to me!”

“Pull me up.” Ben grimaced. “Don't let go! Don't let—”

Something twisted Ben's lower torso, yanking his hands from Jack's grip and jerking him back down through the hole. Jack lunged forward to save him, but it had all happened too fast.

“Ben!” he screamed.

But all Jack could see in the chamber below was a light flashing erratically from inside the tunnel. Ben's screams echoed up the passage for several seconds until they finally stopped, and the only sound Jack could hear was the steady drumming of water streaming down into the tunnel.

“Ben . . .”

Jack stared down into the dark chamber. Paralyzed by fear and shock.

He rolled away from the hole and lay on his back. Water cascaded onto his face and chest. He was cold and wet and surrounded by complete darkness.

And now he was utterly alone.

Chapter 15

Jack lay dazed for several minutes in the darkness, water streaming across his face.

Finally he roused himself, moving purely on instinct, pulling himself down the tunnel for dear life. The passage sloped downward, and as Jack crawled forward, he could feel the angle increasing.

He had no idea where he was going, only that he couldn't turn back. He could only feel his way inch by inch through the utter darkness and hope the passage would lead somewhere safe. For all he knew, the creatures could be climbing up the hole to pursue him. He couldn't hear anything over the sound of the water rushing around him. It seemed to gain momentum the farther he crawled. Suddenly his hands slipped in the mud-slick passage, and he slid down the chute into darkness. He clawed futilely against the sides of the tunnel but couldn't slow his progress.

Then without warning, he felt the rock disappear from underneath him, and the next thing he knew, he was falling through pitch-black emptiness. He seemed to fall forever through the inky abyss until he felt impact and plunged into icy water.

He surfaced again, gulping in a lungful of air as he was swept along in the current of an underground river. His feet slammed against rocks under the surface and something sharp scraped against his shin. Bolts of pain shot up his leg and Jack winced, though he knew the pain had been deadened somewhat by the cold. He flailed his arms desperately, trying to keep his head above the surface.

After several minutes the current subsided, and Jack felt himself floating in calmer waters. But he was numb and shivering. He knew he had to get out of the water soon, before the onset of hypothermia.

Realizing he was in some sort of subterranean lake, he decided to pick a direction and swim in hopes of finding a shoreline. Or at least shallower waters.

As he paddled blindly, a profound sense of isolation swept over him. A feeling of despair as he floated in a total absence of light.

Then just as he was losing all hope, he saw something in the cavern above him. Odd, disjointed gray shapes. He blinked and looked closer, wondering if he was hallucinating as a result of his trauma or the freezing water. But in fact he was seeing something. It was the ceiling of the cavern high above him. Vague outlines of the jagged rock formations dappled by light.

Light!

Jack looked around. Light was coming from somewhere. It was faint and diffused, but he could tell it wasn't the sickly yellow hue of the bioluminescent slime. This looked like daylight.

He floundered in the water, searching for the source. Then his feet touched bottom. It was jagged and uneven, but Jack was able to stand and survey his surroundings. In fact, he could see faint reflections of daylight everywhere around him now, wavering and jostling against the black rock walls of the cavern. It was enough for him to see the dark silhouette of the shore not far off.

Jack stumbled to the rocky ground and collapsed on a bed of smooth stones and mud. A huge weight seemed to lift from him as he lay there gasping for breath.

After several minutes he crawled to his feet and tried to assess his surroundings. The cavern seemed long and narrow, though he couldn't see to the other side. But daylight was coming up from the lake, and as Jack looked closer, he could see its source—a small, glowing patch beneath the water. He stumbled across the rocks for a better view.

The jagged outline of a narrow tunnel lay just under the water. Faint rays of daylight streamed in through the small opening, and Jack's heart raced. He maneuvered as close as he could get to the mouth of the cave. It was impossible to tell for sure, but he estimated the passage to be twenty to thirty feet in length. A long way in his weakened state, but at this point he knew he had no choice. He wasn't going to get any stronger by waiting. He took several deep breaths and submerged. It was a narrow, jagged passage, and his arms and legs ached from exhaustion as he paddled through the opening.

In the chilling darkness, Jack could make out the murky ring of daylight at the end of the watery tunnel and felt almost like he was having a near-death experience. Or perhaps it was more like being reborn.

Once through, Jack swam to the surface and emerged into a blinding glow. Daylight felt warm on his face, and he had never been so relieved to see the sun in his life. It blazed down from a cloudless sky onto the surface of a small lake. He couldn't make out many details of his surroundings in the brightness—just a blurry shoreline several yards off—but he swam madly for it.

Stumbling through the mud onto the rocky bank, he collapsed again, faceup on the shore. The sun warmed his skin and a breeze blew across his face, carrying the scent of pine trees and field grass. The sensation filled Jack with a mixture of emotions. He felt genuine relief to finally be out of those caverns and free from the creatures inside. He felt a tempered exhilaration over the discovery of the N'watu but deep sorrow as well—an almost-unbearable emptiness at the loss of Rudy and Ben. He knew the images of their agonizing deaths would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life.

But Jack also knew he wasn't finished. He had to find his way back to civilization. He had to find help. He needed to get to a phone and call the state patrol.

He rolled to his feet and tried to gain his bearings. According to his watch, it was going on seven in the evening, and the sun was starting to dip toward the horizon. He was on the shore of a small mountain lake, no more than three or four hundred feet across, with the sheer rocky face of a mountainside rising straight up on the far side and a carpet of tall pines on the other. Jack had no compass or map, but he could see the adjacent peaks running off to the right rather than the left, as he had seen when they first entered through the falls. He had obviously made it through the entire mountain and was now on the other side. It was probably a several-mile trek back to where they had parked the RV that morning. It felt like he'd been wandering through the caves for weeks, yet it had been less than twelve hours.

Jack decided his best chance was to make his way through the forest and hopefully find a highway. But he wasn't familiar with the area, and for all he knew he could be lost in one of the national forests in western Wyoming, miles from any towns. Clearly he wasn't out of danger yet.

He checked the gash in his shin. It was deep and had started throbbing. Jack guessed he would need medical attention soon. Yet another thing on his list of concerns.

Jack had never been much of an outdoorsman and now worried how he would fare out in the wild without Ben or Rudy. Logic dictated that he had better make the most of the daylight and get as far as he could while he had the light and warmth of the day.

The hot sun felt good on his wet clothes and shoes, and though the terrain was uneven through the woods, the semiarid climate made for less undergrowth. He found he was able to make good time through the forest, despite being slightly hobbled by his leg. He traveled down a rocky slope, heading on a path parallel to the mountains.

It was after seven o'clock when he finally came across a narrow, paved highway. Jack laughed and knelt down to kiss the asphalt. He knew his chances of finding help had just improved 1,000 percent. Plus, the pavement was smooth, requiring less energy to traverse.

He paused, trying to decide which direction to take. He figured that he'd already hiked a mile or two from the lake. He decided that his best bet for finding civilization was to head south. At least that would take him back in the general direction of the area where he had parked the RV.

But he had no water bottle and no food and had long ago grown thirsty. His clothes had dried and now were growing damp again with his sweat. Jack continued along the road, keeping an ear open for the sound of vehicles.

He had walked another half hour and the pain in his leg was just becoming unbearable when he finally heard a car approaching from behind. Jack turned and waved his arms as a rust-colored pickup truck appeared around the curve.

It approached, slowed, and pulled to a stop. Jack's heart felt a wave of relief as the driver rolled down his window and leaned out. He looked like a cowboy's cowboy. Lean and sinewy with short reddish hair and a large mustache sweeping out beneath his nose.

The guy nodded at Jack. “Need a lift?” His voice carried a heavy Western twang.

“Man, am I glad to see you. I got an emergency.”

He looked Jack over. “You all right?”

“Do you have a cell phone I can borrow?” Jack said. “I have to get in touch with the state patrol.”

The guy shook his head and waved Jack around to the other side of the truck. “You won't get any cell signals out here, but there's a little town a couple miles up with a landline.”

Jack climbed in, noting how incredibly comfortable the torn-up leather seat felt after spending the day crawling around inside a cave.

The guy put the truck back in gear and continued on. “Name's Malcolm Browne.”

Jack shook his hand. “Jack Kendrick. Thanks for stopping.”

“So what's up? You get in an accident or something?”

“Something like that.” Jack leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “We were exploring a cave up in those mountains. Two people—the two guys I was with—died in there.”

“Died?” Browne gaped at Jack. “What happened to them?”

“They were . . . killed.” Jack rubbed his eyes. “There's something—some kind of animals inside that cave. I just need to get the authorities up here right away.”

“Well, you can get ahold of the sheriff in town. And Doc Henderson's got a phone you can use,” Browne said, shaking his head. “I didn't even know there was a cave around here. What kind of animal was it? A bear or something?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.” Jack's voice trailed off and he shuddered.

They continued on for another mile or two before Jack spotted buildings through the trees. A wooden sign on the side of the road read:
Welcome to Beckon. You're not here by chance.

A weathered old gas station and garage stood on the outskirts of the town, welcoming visitors with a dirt-crusted red-white-and-blue Standard sign posted out front and a small salvage yard behind it. Within the sagging wooden fence, the battered remnants of cars lay hidden by weeds and brush like an automotive graveyard. Their burned-out frames, fenders, and hoods were all smashed and rusted beyond recognition and stacked in forlorn piles, overgrown by prairie grass. Next to the service station sat a general store and, beside that, a building marked Saddleback Diner. Across the road was a row of shops and storefronts. Behind them, several houses were huddled amid the trees. And beyond the houses rose a steep, wooded bluff with an enormous log home perched on an outcropping near the top. Directly behind the great lodge, Jack could see the looming steel-gray mountain peak.

Browne pulled to a stop in front of the doctor's office, and Jack stumbled out of the truck. His leg was beginning to stiffen up, and the pain was getting worse.

Browne helped him hobble inside to a small waiting area with an empty receptionist counter and a closed-off section behind it, where Jack assumed the exam room was.

“Hey, Doc,” Browne called out. “You got a patient here.”

The doctor emerged from the back room. He was a bookish fellow of medium height and build, clean-shaven with light-brown hair that was sort of greased down and parted neatly to one side. To Jack he looked more like an accountant than a doctor. His eyes fixed on Jack and his forehead wrinkled. Jack assumed the guy didn't get many strangers walking into his clinic right off the street like this.

“I picked him up on the highway,” Browne explained. “Just outside town. He said he had run into trouble in some caves.”

“Dwight Henderson,” the doctor said, shaking Jack's hand. He nodded toward Jack's leg. “Looks like you got a pretty good gash there.”

“I scraped it on some rocks. But I really need to use your phone.”

“Sure, just let me take a look at your leg first.” Henderson motioned for Jack to have a seat in the waiting area while he retreated into the back room.

He returned a moment later with what looked like a first aid kit and pulled up a second chair. He inspected Jack's leg more closely. “We need to clean this out. You said there was some trouble in a cave?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah . . . it's kind of a long story. But I need to contact the state patrol or somebody. Two guys—my friend and a guide we had hired—were killed.”

Henderson glanced at Browne and gestured toward the door. “Go on and get Carson. He's gonna want to hear this.”

Browne nodded and bolted out of the office.

“Who's Carson?”

Henderson began cleaning Jack's wound. “The local law enforcement. He'll get in touch with the authorities. But your friends—how were they killed?”

Jack winced as the doctor wiped iodine into the torn skin. “I don't think anyone's gonna believe me. It was some kind of . . . I don't know, giant arthropod. Like a spider.”

Henderson looked up. “Spider?”

“That's the best way I can describe them,” Jack said as a shudder raked through him. “I've never seen anything like it in my life. They're huge. And they have a hard shell—like a crab—but they were more like spiders. They have venom that's extremely poisonous. And they're carnivorous. They hunted like a pack of wild dogs.”

Henderson looked incredulous. “How big were these . . . spiders?”

“They were huge! The biggest ones were . . . I don't know—they had maybe four-foot leg spans. They were like big dogs.”

Henderson wrapped gauze around Jack's calf, shaking his head. “Dogs? There's no way . . .”

Jack studied the guy's reaction. It seemed some part of him believed the story, and yet another part of him refused to. Like he was having some kind of internal battle. As if he didn't
want
to believe it.