The Calling of the Grave (36 page)

    I had
to bend almost double. According to Lucas, there weren't any cave systems in
this part of Dartmoor. Yet this was obviously a natural formation, not
man-made.
Looks like he got it wrong,
I thought, and as I did I banged
my head on an outcrop of rock. I reeled back, more startled than hurt.

    And
dropped the torch.

    
No!
I grabbed for it but missed. It clattered on to the rock, the light flickering
as it hit. I tried to trap it with my foot but it pitched past, skittering and
bouncing down the slope towards the drop-off. Its beam threw crazy patterns as
I scrambled after it, but it was rolling too fast. Then it reached the edge,
and as though a switch had been flicked I was plunged into darkness.

    I
didn't move. The enormity of what had happened stunned me. I stared into the blackness
where the torch had disappeared, hoping to see a faint glow. There was nothing.
The dark was so complete it seemed to have depth and weight. Now I couldn't see
it, the vast weight of rock all around me seemed even more oppressive.

    The
heavy silence was broken only by the splash of unseen water.
Don't panic.
Think it through.
My hand was unsteady as I reached into my pocket for my
phone. I gripped it tightly as I took it out and thumbed a key.

    A
blue glow threw back the dark as the phone's display sprang to life.
Thank
God.
It wasn't as bright as the torch but right then it seemed beautiful.
Holding it up like a miniature lantern, I began edging towards the drop-off
that the torch had rolled over. It was possible the fall had just loosened a
connection: if I could find it I might be able to get it working.

    I'd
only taken a few more steps when the blue light suddenly winked out.

    I
felt a stab of panic as blackness engulfed me again. But the display had only
gone on to stand-by: it lit up again when I pressed a key. Weak with relief, I
carried on. The sound of the underground stream grew louder, moistening the air
with a damp chill. I was forced to bend almost double as the roof became even
lower, but I didn't have much further to go.

    I was
almost there when my phone rang.

    The
piercing
beep
was shockingly loud. For an instant I felt a surge of
hope, before I realized no one could call down here. What I'd heard wasn't the
ringtone.

    It
was the low-battery warning.

    I'd
been meaning to charge the phone for days. The last time was before I came to
Dartmoor, but with reception so patchy I'd hardly used it. It hadn't seemed
important.

    It
did now.

    
Oh,
Christ.
I stared at the flashing battery icon. As though to prove a point,
the screen went out again. My fingers trembled as I pressed a key. The phone
lit up but beeped again almost immediately. There was no way of knowing how
much longer the battery would last, and using the display would drain it faster
than ever.

    I
took a final, agonized look towards the drop-off. It was only a few yards away,
but there was no guarantee I'd be able to retrieve the torch. Or that it would
still work if I did. There was no longer any question of going on. I needed to
get out and fetch help while I still could. Once I was back in the mine the
shaft ran straight to the surface. I'd be able to follow it out even if the
phone died. But if it failed before then . . .

    Don't
think about that
.

    I
tried to steady my breathing, resisting the urge to rush blindly back towards
the hole. I went as fast as I could, but my back was aching from being stooped
over and my progress still seemed agonizingly slow. The phone's display went
out twice more as I crabbed back up the slope. Each time I froze, hardly daring
to breathe as I pressed a key to bring the screen back to life.

    I was
perhaps halfway across when the screen went dead for the fifth time. I quickly
thumbed a key. Nothing happened. I pressed another. And another. The screen
stayed dead. The darkness seemed to thicken as I jabbed the keypad in
desperation, praying for just a few more seconds of light.

    But
it didn't come. The blackness seemed to press against my eyes. I lowered the
phone.

    I
wasn't going anywhere.

    It
was cold down there. I started to shiver soon after the phone gave out. The air
was damp and frigid, and once I'd stopped moving the cavern's chill soon cut
through my clothes. I'd settled down on to the rock surface, first squatting on
my haunches then sitting down when my muscles became cramped. Cold or not, I
dared not go any further when I couldn't see anything. I'd been lost once at
night on a Scottish island. I'd thought that was as bad as it could get.

    This
was worse.

    My
first instinct was to try to feel my way to the hole I'd crawled through. I
knew the opening had to be tantalizingly close. Negotiating the rockfall in the
dark wouldn't be easy, but once I was back in the mine my chances of making it
to the surface would be much better.

    If
I'd been able to fix the hole's position in my mind I might have tried. But I'd
be groping my way blindly, unable to see any falls or projections of rock. Even
if I didn't crack my head open, it would be all too easy to become
disorientated. And if I found an opening I'd have no way knowing if it was the right
one: I could end up crawling deeper into the cave system without realizing it.

    No,
like it or not, my only option was to stay where I was. The police would find
the broken gate and my wallet, and then it was only a matter of time before the
mine was searched. If I could find the opening that led here then surely they
would as well.

    And
if they don't?

    Sooner
or later if no one came I knew I would have to make a decision. But I wasn't
ready to think about that yet. I tried my phone again, hoping some residual
charge would light the screen for a few seconds. It didn't. Now I'd time to
think, coming down here seemed unbelievably stupid. Even if I'd caught up with
Sophie and Monk, what would I have done? Fought him off? The idea was
laughable. It hadn't occurred to me to bring Cross's gun, and if I had I
wouldn't have known how to use it. No, I should have stayed with the car, done
what I could for her and Miller until back-up arrived. Instead I was trapped
underground in a cavern no one might even know existed, while Monk and Sophie .
. .

    I
couldn't bear to even think about that.

    I put
my head on my knees, wrapping my arms round them to hug what little heat I
could to myself. The cold ached into my bones, but I hardly cared. There was no
way of even knowing how long I'd been down there. I couldn't see my watch face,
and in the dark I'd lost all track of time.

    Huddled
and shivering, I strained to hear anything that might indicate help was on its
way. Once I thought I did: the echo of a far- off clatter drifted through the
cavern. I shouted into the blackness until I was hoarse and my throat hurt. But
when I stopped to listen the only sound was the fluid ripple of unseen water.

    Feeling
as useless as I'd ever been in my life, I closed my eyes and tried to rest.

    At
some point I must have dozed. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but I was
aching and exhausted. Without being aware of it, I drifted into an uneasy
sleep.

    And
then, suddenly, I was awake. For a few seconds I had no idea where I was.
Panicking, I narrowly avoided banging my head on the low rock as I started to
lurch to my feet. I lowered myself back down on to the cold rock as the
bleakness of the situation sank in. My legs had cramped. I stretched out first
one, then the other, massaging the muscles to ease them.

    That
was when I heard the noise.

    It
sounded like the far-off skitter of a falling rock. I froze, listening. After a
moment it came again, and this time it didn't stop. It grew louder, the
unmistakable echoing scrape of someone's approach.

    
'In
here
!'
I yelled.
'I'm in here
!'

    The
cramp was forgotten as I stared into the darkness, relief and adrenalin making
my heart thump. It seemed to take a long time before a light appeared in the
blackness.

    
Thank
God.
'Over here!'

    The
light began to move in my direction, the dancing yellow beam of a torch. It was
only as it grew larger that I realized it was coming from the wrong direction.
Whoever this was they were approaching from the far side of the cavern, not the
opening from the mine. And there was only a single light instead of the massed
torches of a rescue party.

    The
shout died in my throat. A sick resignation spread through me as the torch came
closer. Beyond the glare I could make out a bulky figure and the pale dome of a
bald head, stooped and hunched beneath the bellying rock. It stopped a few feet
away. I smelled something rank and animal.

    Monk
lowered the torch. The filthy combat jacket looked too small across the massive
shoulders and arms. The button eyes regarded me as his chest rose and fell,
each breath accompanied by a low wheeze.

    'Get
up.'

    The
cave system was an underground maze, but Monk seemed to know exactly where he
was going. He squeezed through narrow crevices, crawled along water-dripping
passages that bent and wormed their way through the rock. He didn't hesitate,
slithering through gaps I would never have dared risk by myself. But despite
his size he never once got caught or stuck. On the surface he might be a freak;
here, in the subterranean tunnels, he seemed in his element.

    After
that single, terse instruction he hadn't spoken again. Ignoring my frantic
questions about Sophie, he'd simply turned and headed back the way he had come,
as though he didn't care if I followed or not. Bewildered, I stayed where I
was. It was only as the shadows flowed back into the cavern, rushing to fill
the vacuum left by the receding torch, that I forced myself to move.

    Monk
never so much as glanced round, though he must have heard me. I felt utterly
lost. None of this made sense, not the fact that he'd come back nor why — or
where - he was leading me. The thought of going deeper into the caves appalled
me, yet what else could I do? He could have killed me already if that was all
he wanted.

    And I
had to find Sophie.

    The
passage we were in abruptly opened into a space large enough to stand. Monk
started across without pausing. I took the opportunity to catch up.

    'Where
is she?' I panted.

    He
didn't answer. He was obviously feeling the exertion, each breath a thick, wet
rattle, but he didn't slow. When I grabbed hold of his arm it felt like a piece
of teak under the oily cloth.

    'What
have you done with her? Is she hurt?'

    He
jerked his arm free. He didn't seem to put any effort into it, but I was yanked
off my feet. I sprawled on my hands and knees on the rock, hard enough to skin
them.

    'Shut
the fuck up.'

    His
voice was a hoarse rumble. He turned to carry on, but doubled up as a coughing
fit seized him. He leaned against the rock face, huge shoulders shaking from
the violence of the spasm. It sounded as though his lungs were full of fluid as
he spat a gob of phlegm on to the floor. Breathing heavily, he passed a hand
across his mouth before continuing on as though nothing had happened.

    After
a moment I went after him. But I was thinking now about the ragged breathing
I'd heard over the phone, and the sputum the police had found at Wainwright's
house. Everyone had assumed that was a gesture of contempt, but I was no longer
so sure.

    Monk
was ill.

    Not
that it made him any less dangerous, or slowed him down. I had to push myself to
keep up, knowing that if I didn't I'd be left stranded. All I could do was fix
my eyes on Monk's broad back, silhouetted by the torch beam, and trust that
there was some purpose to this.

    I'd
been trailing behind him, sloshing ankle-deep through water that ran down the
sides of a narrow, upward-sloping passage, when the light suddenly went out. I
stopped dead, fighting panic, wondering if all this had been a sadistic trick
to abandon me down here.