Gone to Ground (32 page)

42

Maggie had just tripped over a large rock lying in the center of the cave for the fifth time when she heard the sound of running feet coming in her direction. Panicked, she raced to the passageway, and began shoving at the rock cover, desperately trying to move it over the entrance. It moved the final three inches just as the footsteps materialized into Mark as he rushed into the cave and skidded to a stop.

“Mark!” Maggie surged to her feet and rushed to her son, tripping over the damned rock for the sixth time. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him to her. After a moment, during which she only felt gratitude that he was safe, and back with her, she suddenly held him out at arms’ length and fixed him with a glare.

“What were you thinking!”

“Mom, it was my fault the Enforcers found us,” Mark said. “You always say we should take responsibility for our actions. I was just taking responsibility.”

“God, Mark, I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost you. This wasn’t your fault. It would have probably happened sooner or later. It’s not your responsibility. O’Reilly...” Maggie’s voice tailed off and a look of horror crossed her face. She looked up toward the entrance to the cave. “Mark, where’s O’Reilly. Didn’t he find you and bring you back?”

“He found me in that small cave near the main entrance. I guess I didn’t hide very good.” Mark looked up at his mother. “We were going to start back toward this cave, but the Enforcers came. O’Reilly said I had to come back and warn you, that he’d take care of things. He said he knew the guy leading the Enforcers.”

Mark looked toward the rock covering the entrance to the passageway. “He said we were to get into the cave, pull the rock over the opening and wait for him to come. He...”

Three shots split the air in rapid succession, echoing off the walls and roofs of the caverns.

O’Reilly stood facing Captain Seth Rickards and his men.
His possee
, O’Reilly thought wryly.
Just like sheriffs of the old west. 
He studied their faces in the yellow flashlight glow. Dust f
loated through the air, giving the light a golden aura. He thought he recognized a couple of the men from the APZ, though he couldn’t remember any of their names.

Rickards looked floored, the expression of shock on his face every bit as dramatic as O’Reilly had hoped for.

“Well, Seth?” O’Reilly continued nonchalantly when Rickards failed to speak. “I take it you’re looking for me.”

43

Rickards stood staring at O’Reilly, completely flummoxed.

The man looked completely relaxed, as if they had simply met on a street corner. Old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a long time.

Rickards
was aware of a rapidly growing annoyance as he stood watching O’Reilly, apparently at ease, meeting Rickards’ glare forthrightly. Why the hell wasn’t O’Reilly afraid? The man knew what was at stake. There was no way he could have deluded himself into believing that Rickards and the other Enforcers had just dropped by for a drink and a chat.

The annoyance gave way to anger, when O’Reilly gave him a lazy smile, and inquired what he could do for them. Rickards could feel the men behind him beginning to fidget, shifting their feet, making rustling, whispering sounds in the lose dirt and sand on the floor of the cave. He was conscious of Harlan moving up on his right shoulder, and knew that an explosion was imminent if something didn’t happen to defuse the tension.

Deciding the best direction was to mirror O’Reilly’s insouciant attitude, Rickards motioned his men back with a casual wave of the hand. Rocking back on his heels, he plastered a half smile on his face which he hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt.

“You left rather suddenly, O’Reilly. Lot of us were wondering why.” He tilted his head to one side, maintaining eye contact, striving to keep his body relaxed

“I decided that things in the APZ weren’t quite to my liking.” O’Reilly looked past Rickards to the men standing behind him. “I’m not sure whether you really want me discussing all the details in front of your crew there.”

Damned arrogant bastard
, thought Rickards, trying not to grind his teeth. He knew he’d made a mistake trying to bait O’Reilly in that manner. O’Reilly knew perfectly well that Rickards couldn’t have him talking in front of the others. God knew what he’d say. Rickards was fairly sure that his men were loyal, but it was hard to say exactly what information O’Reilly possessed.

Rickards thought quickly, then decided to change directions and attempt a direct assault. “Where are the children?” He stood straight and looked O’Reilly in the eyes, casual smile banished from his face.

“What children?”

“Dammit, O’Reilly!” Rickards bellowed startling his men, but producing little noticeable effect on O’Reilly. “Where is Christina Craigson, her brothers Nick and Ryan Craigson and Alysa Thalman? We know they’re with you. We tracked them as far as Wikieup and none of us are so stupid as to believe that they didn’t meet up with you. Now where are they?”

O’Reilly slowly straightened, his eyes hardening. The difference was slight, but Rickards was encouraged by that indication that he’d gotten through with at least one jab. That O’Reilly wasn’t unreachable.

His satisfaction didn’t last long as he watched O’Reilly resume his studied casualness.

“They’re not here,” O’Reilly answered. “They headed out several days ago on horseback. We figured you’d track them here, so they decided not to stay.”

“You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” Rickards demanded. “They are kids... fourteen and eight year old kids. There’s no way you’d let them head off on their own.”

O’Reilly shrugged, adding fuel to Rickards’ internal fire. “They made it to Wikieup on their own, didn’t they?”

“They may have, but you wouldn’t have sent them off on their own again. I know you better than that, O’Reilly. Where are they?”

“I said they aren’t here. You’re right, though. They didn’t go on their own. There was someone else here when I arrived. I sent the kids with him.”

The shift was so subtle Rickards almost missed it. Something about O’Reilly’s eyes, the cast of his face. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but something about the mysterious “him” caused a reaction in O’Reilly.

“Who is this person? You must have trusted him a great deal if you sent the children with him and stayed behind yourself.”

“The kids wanted to go, and I’m basically a loner. It worked out for the best.”

“Nonetheless, you wouldn’t let them go if you didn’t trust this man. Who is he? What direction did they head?”

“You don’t really expect me to answer those questions, do you?” O’Reilly said. A slightly sardonic smile rested on his lips.

Rickards could feel Harlan moving closer to his shoulder, and held his right hand up, telling him to back off.

“I expect...” the sound of falling rocks interrupted Rickards’ words, causing all the men to jump, looking for the source of the noise. Rickards looked quickly back at O’Reilly and was surprised to catch a flash of what looked like fear slide across his features, briefly replacing the cynical half smile that had been there only seconds before. Interesting.

O’Reilly quickly regained his composure and turned back to look at the group of men. Rickards studied his face, trying to determine the cause of the emotion he’d caught flashing through O’Reilly’s eyes. Something further back in the caves worried O’Reilly. Something...

Rickards’ eyes narrowed and his chin came up. “I expect you to do exactly what you have done, O’Reilly. You say they headed out on horseback several days ago? Then you won’t mind if we check out the rest of the caverns before we leave. They’re really quite... fascinating.” Rickards began to move forward as if to begin his exploration.

“Feel free,” O’Reilly stepped to the side to allow Rickards to pass.

Rickards felt a momentary flush of disappointment when he realized that O’Reilly wasn’t going to try and block the Enforcers’ intrusion. Then he caught that slight shift in O’Reilly’s eyes again, and was positive he was going in the right direction.

“Peters, you and Larson watch him. Harlan, you and Johnson come with me. You’ll excuse me O’Reilly if I don’t trust you. If you don’t mind, place your weapon on the ground.”

O’Reilly held out his hands, showing Rickards that he held nothing. “What weapon?”

“Don’t take me for a fool, O’Reilly. You wouldn’t have come out to face us without a gun.”

A sheepish grin, completely unexpected, and therefore vaguely troubling, crossed O’Reilly’s face. “Yeah, well it won’t do me much good anyway.” O’Reilly bent over, reaching behind a pile of rubble to pick up a hunting rifle by the barrel. In the dim yellow light Rickards could see that the bolt handle was twisted, rendering the rifle useless.

O’Reilly held the rifle out and Johnson, slinging his own weapon over his shoulder, stepped forward to take it. Just as Johnson’s hand touched the stock of the gun, O’Reilly swung his free arm around, and in one smooth motion gripped the barrel of his gun with both hands, and swung clubbing Johnson on the head. The man’s flabby face took on a comically astonished look straight out of the cartoons before going blank. He fell swiftly to the ground, his flashlight spinning away into the adjoining cave.

O’Reilly immediately swung his makeshift club again, this time toward Peters, breaking his arm, causing him to drop his weapon. O’Reilly dropped to one knee and reached for the fallen gun as Larson took aim. Reacting instantly, O’Reilly swung the gun up, striking the barrel of Larson’s rifle. A shot rang out, the bullet flying into the roof of the cave. Almost simultaneously Harlan and Rickards took aim and opened fire.

O’Reilly was thrown to the ground by the force of the impact, landing on his right side next to the pile of rubble near cave’s wall.

Rickards maintained his aim on O’Reilly who was lying motionless on the ground in front of him the echos of the shots continuing to ring in his ears.. A spreading stain, black in the murky yellow light from the flashlights, testified to the accuracy of at least one of the bullets. Dust filled the air making breathing difficult, and a groaning sound gradually penetrated Rickards’ concentration.

Rickards lifted his head, looking around in the dusty air as several small stones pelted his shoulder and head. He saw Larson and Harlan also looking around confusedly while small rocks and stones began to rain down around them. Peters was on his knees, hugging his injured right arm to his chest, and staring at the roof of the cave with a look of fear.

Johnson lay insensate while debris bounced off his body and dust clotted the blood oozing from the wound on the side of his head showing where the stock of O’Reilly’s gun connected.

Coughing on air that seemed as thick as mud, Rickards started forward, trying to yell to the others to get out. Harlan apparently realized what Rickards was trying to say because he bent to grab Johnson by the arms and began pulling him away in the direction of the cave’s entrance.

With a final rumbling groan the roof of the cave announced its imminent capitulation. Rickards dove for cover as larger stones and boulders rained down.

Pandemonium ensued.

44

Maggie froze at the sound of the shots, her he
art t
urning to ice in her chest. It seemed as if all the air had been sucked out of the cave and any second she would start flopping on the ground, gasping for air like a fish deposited on land by the angler’s line.

She looked down into Mark’s face and saw him staring back up at her, terror written across his face.

“Mom! O’Reilly! We can’t leave him out there. He must be in trouble.” Mark started to pull away from Maggie and head back toward the sound of the gun shots, trying to free himself from her tight grip on his arm. A loud grumbling roar stopped him and he looked around in confusion.

“Cave in!” Maggie said, hoarsely. “The shots must have triggered a cave in.” She looked toward the outer caves as dust began to waft in toward them. Mark renewed his struggle to head back toward O’Reilly.

“Mark, stop it!”

“Mom, we’ve got to help him. He might be caught in the cave in. He might be hurt.”

The panicked expression on Mark’s face ripped through Maggie. She knew he felt responsible for O’Reilly being placed in danger, and that nothing she said would change his mind. She also felt a growing sense of panic in herself; that if she didn’t do
something, anything
she would simply explode where she stood, raining down in little pieces all over the cave.

Maggie grabbed Mark’s arm more tightly and began pulling him toward the stone covering the entrance to the hideout cave.

“Mark, you’re going to go back into the hideout with Christina and the other children. I’ll pull the stone over, then go find O’Reilly. Let me have the gun you took.” Maggie reached for the pistol shoved in the waistband of Mark’s jeans.

“But...”

“No buts. I can’t be trying to find him and worrying about you at the same time. You’ll be safe in the cave. If I can’t find O’Reilly, I’ll head deeper in the caverns until the Enforcers are gone.”

“But, Mom, I...”

“Mark, we’re wasting time.” Maggie pulled the stone off the passage’s opening, only to find Christina’s frightened looking face staring back out at her.

“Maggie? We heard...”

“You heard shots. And the cave in. I know. Take Mark, Christina, I’m going to look for O’Reilly. He was out toward the main entrance when we heard the gunfire. We don’t know where he is now, so I’m going to find out.”

Maggie pushed Mark toward the opening, and Christina wriggled backward to allow him to slide in. After he was fully into the passageway, Maggie quickly pushed the rock back over the opening, and, using the juniper bough brought in for that purpose, quickly erased all evidence that the stone had been a center of attention.

Throwing the branch deeper into the caves, Maggie grabbed her flashlight and gun and headed toward the main entrance to the caves.

I can’t breath! God, please let me breath!
thought Rickards, as he choked in the dust from the cave in. Nearby he could hear the other men gasping for air and coughing. He felt as though he was going to deposit his lungs on the ground at any moment if he wasn’t able to stop soon.

The air began to clear slightly, and he was finally able to draw a deep breath without gagging. He stood still for a moment, trying to calm his breathing and make sense of his surroundings. His flashlight had been smashed from his hand during the cave in, and now he found himself wallowing in a darkness so complete that he wondered briefly if he’d been blinded. Slowly kneeling down, he felt around his feet, hoping to come across the dropped light.

Rocks littered the floor around his feet, and he’d begun to despair when his hand grazed across the rough metal surface of the heavy flashlight. Retrieving it from where it lay in the debris of the cave in, he tried to turn it on. Nothing. Running his hand over the casing, he quickly discovered that the lens was shattered, and likely the bright LED bulb inside. The flashlight carried a spare bulb in the butt, but without a light, the likelihood of his being able to switch out the small bulbs was not good. He needed light.

“Harlan, Peters, Larson, where are you?”

“Harlan here, sir.” The voice was muffled, indistinct, and Rickards couldn’t tell which direction it came from.

“Larson. Peters. You there?”

“Yes, sir. We’re here. Johnson’s bad, though. He was caught in the cave in. A lot of rocks struck him.” Larson’s voice, Rickards thought.

“Do you have light? My flashlight was damaged in the cave in.”

“Yes, sir. Just a moment and we’ll get to you.” Harlan, this time. At least he thought it was Harlan.

Gradually Rickards saw a lightening in the air at the far side of the tunnel. Apparently the cave in hadn’t completely filled the passageway. There was a triangular gap at the upper right, and it was from here that the light was coming. He heard the clatter-tick of falling rocks as Harlan pushed his way through, over a the pile of rubble.

“Harlan, over here.”

Harlan turned his flashlight in the direction of the voice, then made his way over to Rickards.

“How’s everyone over there?”

“Peters and I have a lot of bruises. Larson’s arm’s broken from when O’Reilly hit him, and he took a hard blow to the head as well. Johnson’s the worst. He’s still breathing, but he was partially buried under rocks in the cave in. I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

Rickards thought for a moment. “First I need to change the bulb in this flashlight. Then I want you to take Larson and Peters and get Johnson back to Donner at the main entrance. I’m going to wait here. Wherever the children are, They had to have heard the shots and the cave in. They’ll come to find out what’s going on. I’m convinced of it.

“Sir, I don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone.”

“It will be fine, Harlan. O’Reilly’s out of the picture,” he nudged the body at his feet with his toe. “And I should be able to handle four kids. I’ll leave the flashlight off until they get here, then take them by surprise. They’ll give in without a fight, I’m sure.”

“Are we taking them back with us, then?”

“It will depend on them,” Rickards scowled. The dilemma of what to do with the children had been plaguing him for awhile. Christina Craigson and Alysa Thalman had already proven to be good at outwitting the authorities, and Christina had a lot of information that they couldn’t afford to have spread around the APZ. Information that had gotten her put into isolation in the first place. The idea of having to kill children, though, did not sit well with him.

Duty versus conscience. Rickards wanted the freedom to make his own decision. Freedom that he wouldn’t have if he kept Harlan nearby. There was no doubt in Rickards’ mind which choice Harlan would make.

“At least switch flashlights with me. We can’t fix the lens on yours, but since Larson and Peters still have theirs, it won’t matter so much to me.” Harlan held out his flashlight, exchanging it for Rickards’ lensless one.

Then, still looking concerned, but following Rickards’ orders, Harlan climbed back through the gap in the rock fall. As his light disappeared into the next cave, Rickards turned off his own flashlight, and faded back into the niche in the tunnel’s wall, behind a boulder to wait for the children’s arrival.

The air became thicker with dust as Maggie proceeded through the caves, leaving a nasty sensation in her mouth.
Feels as though I’ve been lunching on rocks,
she thought, spitting to try and remove the taste without success. Her sinuses felt as though they’d been filled with cement, and she briefly wondered if she would suffocate before finding O’Reilly.

There was a chance, she thought, that the cave in had totally blocked the cave, which would mean they were trapped there, the only way out through the small opening in the secret cave. Which was, she thought grimly, better than being trapped in these caves with no way out, but only marginally. Why hadn’t they thought about the possibility of cave ins when they chose the caverns as a hiding place. Geez, she thought, with her over active imagination, she should have been picturing herself buried in rocks and spitting out stone dust a long time ago. All she’d been able to come up with were rattlesnakes, lions and the ghosts of dead prospectors, and those specters had been pretty much banished weeks ago.

As Maggie moved closer to the cave in, her flashlight took on an eerie yellowish glow, sending out visible beams as the light reflected on minute particles of rock suspended in the air. She stopped frequently to listen, fearful that she might turn a corner into the band of Enforcers, and find herself captured. Several times she started coughing, burying her face in her t-shirt to muffle the sound.

Just as Maggie was beginning to fear that she’d taken a wrong turn; that she would wander in this dust filled labyrinth for the remainder of her life, or at least until she went mad, she walked around a corner and was brought up short at the sight of the cave in.

The rocks and boulders filled nearly two thirds of the tunnel, leaving enough room to escape at the upper right of the cave. Maggie approached the blockage slowly, panning her flashlight over the rock fall. Other than the occasional rattle of falling stones, and the rasp of her breath, she could hear no other sounds.

Her light glinted back and forth over the sandstone, picking up an occasional flash from a larger piece of quartz or calcite. Just as she decided she needed to move on, the light fell on something that drove the breath from her body in a ragged gasp. Lying on the left side of the tunnel, half buried under dirt and rocks was a body. It was so covered with rock dust that it almost looked like a stone sculpture itself. A dark liquid glistened through the dust, winking and sparkling in the glow of the flashlight, almost beautiful in its contrast with the surrounding, unrelieved gray.

Maggie froze. Conflicting emotions took hold of her body. Part of her wanted to run the other way and take up permanent residence in the state of denial. But the rest of her had to know. Slowly she approached the man lying on the floor. He lay so still that it was impossible to tell if he was alive.

One step, pause. Another. The knot in her chest was taking on the dimensions of a basketball, pushing out all the air in her lungs. Each step was taken more quickly, until the last three were virtually at a run.

Letting out a soft cry, she dropped to her knees beside the body. With a trembling hand she reached out to wipe the dust from its face. Even coated in a thick layer of powdered rock, she could discern the clean cut features of O’Reilly. His skin was warm to her touch, and she leaned forward, close to his nose and mouth, trying to tell if he was still breathing. Unnoticed tears tracked through the grime on her face, plopping softly into the dust on his chest, leaving small wet pock marks in the dirt.

“O’Reilly, wake up!” She smoothed back the hair along his forehead. Her hand encountered a damp spot, sticky, and when she brought it up to her face, she could smell the blood mingled with the scent of damp rock dust.

“Oh, God, O’Reilly... O’Reilly, come on,” she begged, reaching out to shake his left shoulder. “You can’t leave us alone, you idiot. You know damned well we can’t make it without you... I can’t make it without you.” She started to shake his shoulder harder, falling down a dark spiral toward panic.

“Is he alive?”

A voice, hoarse with dust, shocked Maggie, causing adrenal glands that she already thought to be on overload, to squirt another shot of adrenaline into her system. She shot backward, landing on her butt next to O’Reilly, and staring up into the dark niche where the voice had emanated.

A light blossomed, and Maggie could see a tall, barrel chested man, short cropped hair, turned white by the dust, dark eyes glowing out of the whitened face.

Kabuki actors,
Maggie thought irrelevantly.
That’s what we must all look like. White faces, dark eyes. Kabuki actors in a bad Japanese melodrama.
She stared at the man as he took a step forward into the glow of her flashlight, the two sources of illumination brightening the tableau in front of her, and leaving the rest of the cave in utter darkness.

“Is he alive?” the man asked again, gesturing toward O’Reilly. He was wearing an Enforcers’ uniform, and carrying a rifle in his left hand, barrel pointed toward the ground. At his hip was a holster with a handgun. Maggie thought briefly of the handgun she’d dropped beside O’Reilly’s body when she reached out toward him. No good. This guy would turn her into a sieve before she even got her hand around it. Better to play along for now.

“For the last time, is he alive? Please don’t make me ask again.” The man’s tone was conversational, not threatening, but Maggie felt threatened nonetheless and it didn’t sit well.

“I don’t know,” She answered him testily. “I can’t tell, but if he is, it probably isn’t due to your gentle care.” She looked down at O’Reilly who’d remained silent throughout this exchange.

“Who are you?” came the hoarse voice again.

Maggie could feel a growing irritation as the adrenaline released by her fear began to transform itself. “Maggie Langton. Who the hell are you?” she snapped back.

She was surprised by a snort of laughter, followed by a burst of coughing as the man tried to clear his lungs of the rock dust. He turned his head and spat a wad of mucus toward the wall of the cave.

Turning back toward her, he said, “Fair enough,” his voice clearer, though still deeply resonant. “I’m Captain Seth Rickards from the Laughlin APZ.”