White Cave Escape (3 page)

“Tony! Are you okay?”

“I'm okay,” came Tony's voice, “considering I'm siting right next to our underground ghost.”

chapter
4
In the Hole

Shawn looked down into the sinkhole. The ground had collapsed into a funnel shape; it was like looking down into a big, empty ice-cream cone. The walls of the sinkhole were made of loose, reddish-brown soil, freckled white with bits of gypsum. At the bottom of the pit, Shawn could see Tony staring up at him. Next to Tony loomed a dark, shadowy shape. Before Shawn could say anything, the black shape threw back its head, opened its massive jaws…and howled.

Ooooooooo-ooooooo…!
The cone-shaped hole worked like a giant megaphone—the howl rose mournfully, echoing weirdly off the dirt walls.

Tony clapped his hands over his ears and glared at the great black beast sitting next to him. “All right, all right—we heard you already!”

Hobart dropped his head and gave a short, apologetic bark.

“Meet our underground ghost,” Tony called up to Shawn, jerking his thumb at the big Newfoundland dog. “And guess what—he's got company.” Another shape stirred in the shadows behind Tony and a second face squinted up into the sunlight at Shawn.

“Hey, bro.”

It was Craig. His voice sounded shaky and sheepish. “I took a wrong step and ended up down here. And Hobart followed me before I could tell him to stay.”

“Lucky for you he did,” said Shawn. “He's got a louder voice than you do.”

“All right,” said Petra, her voice suddenly brisk and businesslike. “Let's get you out of there.”

A short search rewarded them with a long, stout stick, which they lowered into the hole. Several minutes later, after much scrambling (and a certain amount of arguing), the “underground ghosts” re-emerged into the sunlight, shoving and pulling one very unhappy Newfoundland dog between them.

“Next time,
you
get the rear end,” Tony grumbled at Craig. Tony, who had been pushing Hobart from behind while Craig hauled him up by his collar, was covered in red dirt from the dog's scrabbling paws. “I think he kicked half the hole back down on my head!”

Tony rubbed his sleeve across his face—but since the sleeve was as dirty as his face, it didn't improve matters much.

“We should go somewhere where you can get washed up,” said Petra, grinning as Tony blinked at her from a mask of dirt.

“The golf club,” said Tony, nodding decisively. He paused to shake an earthworm out of his shorts. “I've had enough of nature for one day. Besides, I think I hear a cheeseburger calling my name.”

Picking their way carefully across the quarry floor (and keeping a sharp eye out for sinkholes this time), the friends regained the dirt road and began following its twisting white ruts back towards the golf course. But they had only been walking for a few minutes when a familiar buzzing sound reached their ears. And it was getting louder.

“Uh-oh,” said Petra. “The ATVs are coming back.”

chapter
5
Tragedy

“ATVs?” said Craig. “Cool! Hey, maybe they'll take us for a ride.”

“I don't think you want to ride with these guys,” Shawn told him.

The buzzing was getting louder. It was coming from the trail ahead of them, and it was approaching quickly.

“Maybe it's just a really big mosquito,” said Tony, hopefully. “A really,
really
big mosquito…”

Petra looked at him and raised her eyebrows.

“Or maybe not,” said Tony.

“We should get out of sight,” suggested Shawn.

“Over there,” said Petra, pointing behind them. The boys followed her gaze. A narrow white footpath veered away from the road, snaking up a steep hill at the back of the quarry to vanish into the forest.

“Good eye,” Shawn told her. “Let's go!”

The four friends and Hobart scrambled up the steep path, sneakers (and paws) skidding on the loose, white rock. Reaching the top, they flopped down in the shade of the forest's edge. Shawn crawled forward on his belly and peered back down the way they had come. From up here, he had a perfect view of the quarry. It sprawled across the landscape like a scar—an alien-looking terrain of white boulders, cliffs, sinkholes, and gullies. Tall, straw-like grasses waved above the white rubble. Patches of poplar trees huddled here and there, and stands of stunted spruce sprouted like prickly islands in a hard, white sea. The drone of approaching engines reached a crescendo.

“Here they come,” Shawn whispered.

Below them, the same ATVs sped into sight. Revving their engines, the riders zoomed into the quarry, bouncing and careening over the uneven terrain.

“That looks like so much fun,” Craig sighed wistfully. “Why can't we just go down and hang out with them for a while?”

“Trust me,” Shawn told him. “You don't want to do that.”

“Sure I do!” Craig started to argue, but then Petra hissed at them to be quiet.

“Look!” she said.

The noise of the four-wheelers had flushed a deer out of the underbrush. The teen riders gave chase at once, swinging their vehicles around in pursuit. But Shawn noticed something else.

“She's got a fawn,” he said.

“Oh no,” breathed Petra.

The friends watched helplessly as the ATVs sped after the panic-stricken animals.

Fanning out, they herded the deer before them like sheep, keeping them inside the rocky confines of the quarry, preventing their escape. A large boulder loomed in front of the racing animals, blocking their path. The doe gathered herself for a mighty leap. Sailing over the top of the obstacle, and beyond the reach of the ATVs, she vanished into the safety of the forest. The fawn, too small to make the jump, swerved around the rock instead. Losing sight of its mother, the confused baby veered back towards the centre of the quarry.

Like wolves, two of the ATVs swarmed towards the running fawn. Shawn saw the third rider hesitate… or perhaps his machine had stalled. The fawn was no match for the four-wheelers. The leader pulled up alongside the galloping animal. Gunning the engine, he reached out one hand as if to grab the terrified creature. The fawn swerved violently sideways to evade the rider's grasp…and rocketed at full speed over the edge of a rock-strewn gully.

From their hidden vantage point, Shawn and his friends cried out in horror and dismay.

The fragile fawn tumbled down into the ravine, coming to a violent stop against a rock. It lay motionless, its neck twisted at an unnatural angle.

The chase was over.

Petra covered her face in her hands. “Oh no!” she wept. “Oh no, no, no!” Tony stared at the scene below, his face frozen in shock. Craig jumped up, fists clenched, and started to head down the path toward the ATVs, but Shawn caught up to him and pulled him back roughly. “Stay here!” he choked. “There's nothing we can do now.”

Down below, the ATV riders cut their engines and dismounted. They gathered at the top of the little gully, looking down at the lifeless body. A moment of utter silence fell over the quarry. Then the leader raised both his arms over his head…and cheered. After a hesitant second, his buddy copied him, and soon they were exchanging high-fives and slapping each other on the back. The third rider continued to stand over the gully, looking down at the fawn. Finally, the leader pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and passed them around.

“We've seen enough. Let's go,” said Shawn.

Beside him, Craig was shaking his head in disbelief.

“That wasn't cool,” he kept saying. “That wasn't cool at
all
.”

Petra was still weeping silently, tears of fury and sorrow streaking her cheeks. Shawn touched her shoulder gently and motioned towards the forest.

“We'll go this way for now, and give those guys time to take off. We can double back when they're gone.” He got up and headed along the trail into the woods. Petra, Tony, and Craig stumbled after him, with Hobart padding along behind.

The friends walked in silence along the forest trail until they were well out of sight and earshot of the quarry. When they reached a small pocket of sunshine pooling on the track in front of them, they all stopped together, as if by some unspoken signal. Petra simply stood still, staring down at the carpet of leaves and pine needles beneath her feet.

“I can't believe they did that,” she said. “I can't
believe
it.”

Shawn shook his head. He couldn't believe it either. Even the normally chatty Tony said nothing, but stared bleakly down at the trail.

Suddenly Craig snapped a branch angrily across his knee with a crack that made them all jump.

“I
hate
them,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “I hate those guys! I hope they crash their stupid quads and bust them up into little, tiny pieces of scrap metal!”

“We all feel that way, bro,” said Shawn quietly. “But we can't change what happened.”

“We can report them to the RCMP,” said Petra fiercely.

Shawn nodded. “
That
we can do.” He glanced at his watch. “I bet those guys are gone by now. It's probably safe to head back.”

Shawn led the way back down the trail. His friends followed in glum silence. They had almost reached the quarry when Tony lifted his head and sniffed the air.

“Man, I'm so hungry I can already smell the barbecue back at the club restaurant.” He closed his eyes, inhaled, and sighed dreamily: “Mmmmm… cheeseburgers.”

Craig wrinkled his nose. “Hmm. Smells more like smoke to me.”

“I hope they're not burning the cheeseburgers!” said Tony, opening his eyes in sudden alarm.

“How can you think about food at a time like this?” Petra asked him.

“It's called ‘comfort food,'” Tony told her. “Cheeseburgers cheer people up. It's a well-known fact.” Petra opened her mouth to reply, but the whine of approaching engines cut their conversation short.

“Oh no!” groaned Petra. “Not these guys again!”

“Let 'em come!” growled Craig, cracking his knuckles.

Just ahead, the trail dropped out of sight into a steep dip. From somewhere down in the hollow came the sound of rubber tires crunching across gravel. The engine noise swelled like a swarm of angry hornets.

“Get off the path!” Shawn barked. He pulled Craig and Tony into the underbrush at the side of the trail. Petra grabbed Hobart's collar and hauled him into the bushes too.

Just in time.

Three ATVs flew over the crest of the hill and slammed down onto the trail, tearing up the ground where Shawn and his friends had been standing just seconds before. The riders weren't laughing now. They were hunched low over their handlebars, gunning their engines, urging their machines forward at breakneck speed. Their mouths were grim, their eyes wide. The first two quads flashed past in a spatter of mud and disappeared around a bend. The third quad was almost out of sight when its driver suddenly slammed on his brakes and skidded to a stop. Twisting around in his seat, the dark-haired teen spat a single word at them:

“
Run
!”

chapter
6
Smoking is Hazardous to Your
Health

“Run?” gulped Tony. “Did he say
run
?”

“Run? Why?” wondered Shawn, looking down the empty trail.

“And from what?” asked Petra skeptically, crossing her arms across her chest. “Those bozos probably just heard a porcupine in the bushes and thought it was a bear.”

“Please don't use the B-word,” groaned Tony, glancing nervously at the dense underbrush.

“What B-word? You mean—b-b-b-
bear
?” Petra teased. She knew how Tony felt about bears. Bears were one of Tony's worst fears (second only to ice floes). Last winter Tony had mistaken Hobart for a bear when the huge, black dog had jumped aboard Petra's boat during that icy river rescue. Hobart and Tony had since become fast friends, but Tony still had nightmares about being sat on by a big, shaggy bear. Petra smirked. “Honestly, Tony, I don't know how you
bear
this bear phobia of yours.”

“Funny,” growled Tony. “Ha ha.”

“Uh, guys? I hate to interrupt, but maybe the ATV kid thought we should run from that thundercloud over there,” Craig said, pointing. A low black cloud roiled menacingly, curling into the sky over the quarry.

“Whoa. That wasn't there a few minutes ago,” said Shawn.

“I don't think that's a thundercloud,” said Petra. She sprinted back to the crest of the hill and looked down. “Uh-oh.”

The boys dashed to her side.

The quarry was on fire. A huge bank of smoke was tumbling into the sky like an upside-down avalanche of black snow.

“Those guys with their cigarettes!” exclaimed Shawn. “I'll bet you anything that's what started it!”

The friends stared as flames swept across the dry, scrubby landscape like a tsunami. Shrubs, bushes, and the tall yellow grasses were swallowed in a wave of fire. The wave swelled and spread, sending new ripples of orange flame flowing down into every hollow and crevice. The red-orange wave rushed across the open ground of the quarry. Then, as they watched, it crested and crashed against the forest's edge.

Trees became torches.

The wave of fire became a wall.

Run!
Shawn tried to say, but his throat was suddenly so dry it came out as a voiceless whisper. He swallowed. The wall of fire was moving towards them.

“RUN!” This time it came out as a half-strangled sort of squawk.

“But the golf course is on the other side of the fire!” yelped Craig. “We're cut off!”

“Get back into the woods! Go!” yelled Shawn.

“But the woods are on
fire
!” protested Tony.