Ghost Cave (14 page)

“This is a bunch of horse pucky. Sitting here isn't doing us any good.” Eddie got up and started forward. Marc knew they had to stay together. He pulled Hermie to his feet and followed Eddie. He liked Eddie searching better than Eddie sulking.

Looking carefully at every wall as they walked, they wandered in the cave. Bluedog was sticking tight to Marc's leg again. She whimpered. When he heard that, Marc had to fight down pure gut-fear that grasped and twisted his stomach.

He got colder and colder, but the palms of his hands started to sweat. He rubbed them on his jeans and pounded both arms to get them warm.

“I'm cold,” said Hermie.

“Me too,” Marc told him. “Rub your arms and keep moving.”

Eddie had gotten ahead of them. Now he returned. Marc didn't like what he saw on Eddie's face. “This tunnel stops up ahead. There's no way out. I looked everywhere.”

“It can't stop! We got in here somehow!” Marc shouted without meaning to.

“Well it does! Go see for yourself, Marc, if you don't believe me.” Eddie crumpled down and buried his face on his knees.

Marc believed Eddie, but he had to look. He took off the way Eddie had come. Sure enough, the tunnel came to an abrupt end with a breakdown. Marc shined his headlamp up and down the walls, and into every crevice.

There was no crawl, nothing that even hinted of a way out. The walls were damp, and a tiny drop of water slid down to a slimy puddle on the floor. There was no air moving in the dead end, and there was a heavy, musty cave smell. Marc started to shiver like crazy. Icy fingers clutched the back of his neck. His teeth started to chatter. He took a deep breath and clinched his teeth tight. He couldn't go back to Hermie and Eddie until he got hold of himself. Not to mention Bluedog. He'd even gotten his dog stuck in this crazy mess.

“Anything?” Hermie asked hopefully, when Marc returned.

“No, it's obviously a dead end. We'll have to go back the way we came.” Walking was better than sitting down and giving up.

“That's a dead end, too,” Eddie said. “We're never going to find a way out. And it's all your fault, Marc!”

Eddie jumped to his feet and started swinging at Marc, fists flying. Marc jumped back, trying to catch hold of Eddie's arms. “Stop it, Eddie, stop it!”

Hermie tried to pull Eddie off Marc by grabbing him from behind. To their surprise, Eddie twisted away, fell to the cave floor and started to cry. Neither Hermie nor Marc knew what to do, so they let Eddie blubber until there was only sniffing left.

“Look,” Marc said, finally. “We're all frustrated. We're cold and tired, but we got in here somehow. So there's some way out.”

Marc forced his voice to be calm, logical. But in his mind the whole cave had turned into a jumble of crawls, tunnels, piled rocks, winding corridors and places they'd squeezed through. Any mental map he might have had earlier was totally scrambled.

He sat down and tried to think. He wished he could cry, too. But he knew that wouldn't help. Hermie and Eddie were depending on him. What would be the best thing to do? They needed to raise their spirits. “Maybe it's time to eat the popcorn, Hermie. I'll take the chance on being hungry later.”

Hermie was delighted to produce a wrinkled paper bag of semi-stale popcorn. As they dug in, no one complained that it was chewy instead of crisp.

Every few bites Hermie would toss a kernel into the air, and Bluedog would snap it into her mouth. She had always liked popcorn.

“Well, at least we've stopped feeding the hodags,” Marc said.

“What—what are hodags?” Hermie stuttered.

“Holy Cow, Marc! Did you have to bring up hodags?” Eddie was angry again, but anger was better than crying. Marc had never seen Eddie cry, and it shook him almost more than being lost.

Marc laughed a little, wishing he hadn't thought of it himself.

“Hodags are cave creatures, Hermie. They're big and black and furry. They can hide easily, though, since all they have to do is slip behind a rock or down into a hole when we walk by. You can't see them in the shadows, either.”

“This is some kind of joke, isn't it, Marc?” Hermie stuffed a handful of popcorn into his mouth, as if the food would protect him.

Eddie forgot his anger and his crying. Teasing Hermie was a way to forget their problem. “No one knows, but everyone who does any caving believes in hodags. You know what they eat—huh, do ya, Hermie, do ya?” Eddie hovered over Hermie, twisting his face into a distorted shape, holding his flashlight under his chin to make it worse.

“I don't want to know, you guys!” Hermie was near tears, and they should've stopped, but Marc couldn't.

“They feed on fear, Hermie,” Marc whispered. “They've loved having you in here. They've probably eaten enough to last them weeks.” Eddie and Marc laughed at the look on Hermie's face.

Eddie couldn't stop either. “They have only one eye, Hermie. It's in the middle of their foreheads, right here.” Eddie poked his forehead. “You want to know how they mate, Hermie—huh, do ya, Hermie? They're eye-sexual. Get it, Hermie? Eye-sexual.”

“Yeah,” Marc added. “When they mate they do it by trading eyes. If you happen to be looking at them at just the right time, you'd know what they were doing. Cause you see a red flash when they do it.”

“Yeah, they're speedy devils. Look, Marc, I thought I saw two doing it right now. Over there, look!”

Hermie covered up both ears and shut his eyes tight. “Cut it out, you guys.”

All of a sudden, it stopped being fun to tease him. They got quiet. Too quiet. They remembered they were in a whole lot of trouble.

Eddie jumped up and went off into the darkness. Hermie sat whimpering, sounding as bad as Bluedog did sometimes. Marc felt awful, so he tried to empty his mind and not think of anything.

He didn't want to, but right away he thought of the dog's skeleton lying beside the Indian boy. Had the boy and the dog really died in the cave, and had his folks decided to bury him here? Maybe Bluedog wasn't the first spelunking dog ever. Maybe the Indian father and mother hadn't carried them in here for burial. Maybe they were already in, and they just didn't carry them out.

Maybe they'd put a curse on the cave—like in Egypt, in the mummy's tombs. Maybe if you disturbed this boy's grave something awful would happen to you. Like getting lost, and starving. First you'd go crazy, and then you'd starve.

Stop that kind of thinking!
Marc ordered himself. They weren't going to die in this cave. But no one knew where they were. He could have at least left a note somewhere in his room—under his pillow, in a dresser drawer.
Stupid, Marc, really stupid
. Another caving rule: Tell someone where you're exploring.

His dad would eventually search to see if there was a clue as to where the three of them had disappeared. He'd find the caving gear gone. But he'd hunt in all the obvious, well-known caves first. No one knew about this cave. It hadn't been discovered for maybe a hundred years. Only the Indians knew about it.

Lost for a hundred years underground? Every turn Marc's mind took led to something worse, something he shouldn't think about. He needed some positive thoughts badly. He thought about covering the grave and leaving it hidden. What a great secret that would be for him to keep as long as he lived. How long was he going to live? Another couple of days? How long could they survive in the cave without food or water?

Eddie came back and slid down against the wall again. He said nothing. What good was it doing for them to all sit there, getting more scared by the minute?

A scratching sound interrupted their thoughts.

“What's that?” Hermie looked all around in a panic. “There's someone in here with us!”

“Holy Cow, Hermie, don't be silly.” But Eddie looked around, too. There was definitely a noise that none of them was making. Bluedog whined, and Marc clamped her muzzle shut.

“Sounds like a mouse,” Hermie said.

They all laughed a little. The idea of someone being in there with them was too scary. Besides, who could be in the cave with them?

“There are no mice in caves, Hermie.” Eddie started acting cocky again. “Maybe a cricket or a salamander, if there's a pond. But no mice. Maybe it's a bat.”

“Bluedog wouldn't whine at a mouse or a bat,” Marc said, hugging her.

“A bat doesn't scratch around. They're all asleep,” Hermie said. “At least the ones I saw were asleep. Maybe it's night and we don't even know it. Maybe all the bats are leaving the cave to go eat insects. We've stayed in here till dark.”

Marc didn't want to think about it being dark outside. He looked at his watch. It wasn't dark yet, but it would be getting there fast.

“Packrats sometimes build nests inside a cave,” Marc said. “But near the entrance, not this deep inside.”

“Unless we're close to the outside and don't even know it.” Eddie jumped up and shined his light in the direction of the noise. It sounded again.

“It sounds as if it's right over our heads.” Hermie shined his headlamp up close to the top of the cave wall, too.

A slab of rock hung out over them and was definitely not attached to the ceiling. But they couldn't see over it.

“I'll boost you up, Eddie,” Marc said. “I've got a good feeling about that ledge.”

“I can't believe there's anything up there. The rock is too close to the ceiling,” Eddie protested.

“Look anyway,” Marc insisted.

Marc cupped his hands into a step for Eddie. He swung his foot up, and as soon as he had his balance, Marc lifted him until he could grab the edge.

“Be sure it's solid before you put your weight on it.” Marc didn't want any of them hurt. That would only complicate their situation.

“It is. And Marc …” Eddie stared into the darkness.

“Yeah? What do you see?” Marc's hopes rose.

“I think I can feel a draft up here.” Eddie's voice sounded hopeful again, too. “But …”

“What is it?”
Please, please let this be a way out
.

“It's a narrow crack between the ceiling and this ledge. It looks like it's awfully tight, Hermie.”

“If it goes outside, I'll make it. I'll flatten myself like a pancake. You're not going to leave me here, now that you've eaten all my food.”

“Can Bluedog make it?” It was the first time Marc regretted bringing her.

“I don't know. She's skinny enough, but what if it's a long crawl?”

“I'll keep pushing her. I can't leave her here.”

Marc would keep looking until he found another way out before he'd leave Bluedog. They could send Eddie for help if Hermie or Bluedog couldn't make it. There were all sorts of possibilities now. Marc wished he hadn't left the rope at the entrance, though. He could have tied it around Blue and pulled her through a long crawl if he had to.

“Should I go all the way through, first, to be sure it's not a dead end?” Eddie asked.

Eddie had definitely been shaken up. Usually he'd never ask Marc's permission to go on ahead. He got ready to enter the hole he'd found. Perched precariously on the ledge, he took off his pack to push it ahead of him in the narrow space.

Marc thought for a moment. He wished he could see the crack. “No, let's stick together. We can all back out if we have to, but I have a good feeling about this.”

“I'm glad someone does.” Hermie was getting cold feet. “What if I get stuck?”

“We'll push or pull until we get you out.” Marc laughed. “I read about a guy who got stuck. He went into the hole easily, but they had to pull him out. Broke his collarbone when he finally popped out like a cork.”

“Thanks a lot for that encouraging story.” Hermie got ready for Marc to give him a boost.

“This is the worst part.” Marc joked and groaned before he even tried to lift Hermie. “You have to lose some weight before we take you in a cave again, Hermie.”

“Good. I'll get fatter and then I can stay home and read about you all getting lost.”

“Aaaaaagh.” Marc exaggerated, but his effort was real. Hermie was no lightweight to boost up, like Eddie was. If he fell back, he'd squash Marc flat. Eddie was also part fly. He could stick to a rock that seemed to have no knobs on it at all and climb on up. Marc's arms started to shake, and he thought Hermie would never get onto the ledge.

Finally, Marc felt him lift his weight, then watched him swing and struggle to get a leg up onto the rock. “Tell me if you're going to fall back, Hermie, so I can get out of the way.”

How easy it was to tease and joke, now that it looked as if they'd found a way out. Marc took a deep breath and hoped again that the crawl went through. It had to. He didn't think any of them could handle another disappointment.

“Is there room for you to sit and help Bluedog onto the ledge?” he asked, when Hermie seemed to be secure.

“I'm not sure. If she gets excited, she'll knock me off.”

“I'll tell her to be calm.”

“I'll have to start her through the tunnel in front of me,” Hermie said. “There's not room for all three of us up here.”

“Okay, here she comes.” Marc had found a small bump he thought he could stand on once he got Bluedog started up. He'd lean on the wall and boost her higher.

On the first try, they both slid back to the cave floor. Bluedog started to bark. “I told you not to get her excited,” Hermie called down.

“Blue, calm.” Marc held her head between his hands. “Calm, you have to be calm.”

Bluedog wiggled all over. This was a fun game to her. But Marc wasn't sure he could get her onto the ledge. “Calm,” he said, and boosted her again. Her toenails scratched on the cave wall.

“Stop wiggling, Blue.” Hermie leaned down to grab hold of her.

Marc almost started laughing at the idea of a chain of boys and dog linked together. If he laughed, they'd fall again. He ducked his head and let Bluedog stand on his shoulders.