Kalahari (10 page)

“Where’s Avani?”

Everyone was coughing and spitting out water, but they immediately began looking around. Sam dove under, as did Joey. I turned in a circle, treading water that sparkled in the sunlight. Undulating patterns reflected off the delicate calcite deposits above us.

“Avani?” I called. “Avani!” Our voices echoed eerily off the cavern walls as we called for her.

Suddenly Joey’s head lifted out of the water. “I’ve got her!”

He had Avani in his arms, and she gasped and sputtered, her eyes shut. “I think she’s okay,” he said. “Just stunned. Hey, Canada? You okay?”

Avani’s eyes shot open into huge circles, and she clung to Joey so tightly that he nearly went under.

“I can’t breathe!” she screamed. “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t
breathe
!” She half sobbed, half choked, and clawed desperately at Joey like a cat climbing a tree. He spluttered and struggled to keep them both afloat. In two strokes, Sam reached them and helped support Avani from the other side.

“Avani, calm down!” he said. “Look at me! Meet my eyes.”

She was trembling so violently that she seemed to have trouble focusing on him.

“Panic attack,” said Kase grimly. “My sister gets them sometimes.”

“I c-c-can’t breathe,” Avani stammered to Sam.

“Yes, you can,” said Sam calmly. “You’re breathing right now. Listen. In, and out. In, and out.”

I treaded water, at a loss, as Sam coached Avani, his voice low and soothing, the way I would talk to a frightened, wounded animal. My skills ended at practical survival techniques. When it came to dealing with people, I was as comfortable as a fish on dry land. I watched with no small amount of awe as he successfully calmed Avani. Her eyes had fixed on his with single-minded attention, and she soon settled down.

“We’re going to be okay,” said Sam. “We’re going to get out of here. But we need your help. We need the Avani who always has the answers, okay?”

Avani nodded and drew a shuddering breath.

“Maybe you can tell us what all this water’s doing down here, huh? I thought this was a desert.”

“
Semi
desert,” said Avani, her voice weak. “The Kalahari is sitting on top of a vast underground water system; you could drill almost anywhere here and find it.”

Sam smiled and turned to me. “I think she’ll be fine.”

It’s sort of cruel, really—so much water placed just out of reach in a land that is almost completely dry. This cavern had to be linked to the massive cave systems that begin in Namibia, many of which are still unexplored. I once went with my mom to the Dragon’s Breath Cave, which releases humid air that makes it look as if some subterranean monster below is exhaling. We’d rappelled down walls as steep as these to look at the white, blind catfish teeming in the lake.

I’d known that in theory, these underground lakes existed, but they’d been unreachable except through the boreholes and wells scattered throughout the region. The question wasn’t how this place existed, but rather how had we found it? What had weakened the crust of earth above, making it give way at our weight?

And even more important—how were we going to get out?

I think the others had reached the same question, because their eyes were round and terrified, just as mine were, I was sure.

“Sarah?” Sam said softly, his voice still filled with the faux hopefulness that had calmed Avani.

I gave him what I hoped was a steady, confident look. “It’s okay. We can get out of this. We just have to . . .” What? Climb? Impossible. The walls of the cavern bent over us at such an angle that we’d have to climb nearly upside down. We were in no condition for that; even an experienced mountain climber would shirk at the sight.

“Swim around,” I said. “Spread out and look for a way out. But be careful. Conserve your energy. No unnecessary movement, got it? Sam, keep Avani with you.”

He nodded.

“Well, hey,” said Joey, grinning, “at least we’ve got plenty of water now.” To illustrate, he scooped up a mouthful and swallowed it with apparent relish.

I tried to smile in return, to keep the mood hopeful, but my lips betrayed me. The water did taste wonderful, though, and I swallowed several mouthfuls, feeling instant relief as it poured through me. Then I turned away and began swimming toward the shadows at the edge of the cavern. I kept my darkest fear to myself: that in the middle of one of the world’s largest deserts, we could very well drown.

T
he cold water left my legs and hands numb, and the sound of my chattering teeth echoed off the cavern walls. I’d explored a good portion of the cave’s perimeter, finding no places where we could climb out, and I didn’t even come close to finding the bottom. From what I knew of underground lakes like this one, the bottom could be three hundred feet deep or more. The thought was even more chilling than the temperature.

My arms and legs ached as I stroked back to the place we’d fallen through. How much longer could I do this? I was in better shape than everyone else, so I knew they had to be struggling.

As if drawn by one mind, the others moved to meet me beneath the circle of sunlight. I turned my face toward the light, feeling its warmth. Sam was there, Avani beside him still looking dazed and terrified, and Joey quickly joined us.

“Where are Kase and Miranda?” I asked.

“Probably making out,” said Joey.

“No, really—where are they?” My heart leaped in panic. Had we lost them? Had they drowned already?

“Kase!” I called. “Miranda!”

But for the rippling water and my own echoes, silence.

“Spread out,” I said wearily. “Search for them.”

Everyone’s faces displayed the one thought we dared not speak aloud: that Kase and Miranda had sunk beneath the surface. I don’t think any of us was ready to accept that answer, though, because it could only mean that we each had a timer hanging over our heads, and that our seconds were almost up.

We made it just a few yards away from one another when I heard a shout.

“Over here!”

The voice was fragile and distorted, but I pinpointed its location and waved to the others. Together we swam toward it, leaving the light behind.

“Kase,” said Sam. “That way.”

“Hurry, guys!” Kase said, his voice growing stronger as we neared.

He and Miranda were treading water, only the whites of their eyes visible in the gloom.

“We found something,” said Miranda, sounding exhausted. “This way.”

My heart lifting despite my better judgment, I followed them as they swam deeper into the darkness.

“What is it?” asked Avani. “God, let it be a ladder.”

“Close,” said Kase. “Maybe close enough.”

I didn’t know they’d stopped until I bumped into Kase, and then I felt Joey bump into me.

“Reach out,” said Kase, taking my hand and lifting it into the dark.

My fingers brushed metal and instinctively closed around it: it was a beam of some kind, cold and smooth. I heard the others murmur as they felt it.

“It goes up,” I said. I explored with my hands, utterly blind. The beams were arranged like a scaffold, about three feet wide and enclosing a pipe about as thick as my torso.

“An old borehole, maybe,” I said, though I was doubtful. The metal should feel rusty or corroded by the minerals in the water, shouldn’t it? This didn’t seem old, not by the texture of it, and its construction was different. But I wasn’t about to question it—any way out would do.

“We might as well climb it,” I said. “See where it goes.”

“I can’t!” It was Avani’s voice that rang out in the darkness, and I could hear the panic creeping back into her breathing. “It’s too dark, and the water . . . please, let’s find another way out!”

I heard a few noises of exasperation from the others. Avani’s breathing was punctuated by tiny whimpers, and I feared she was close to a full-on panic attack.

“I don’t think we’re going to find a better option,” I said. “You can do this, Avani.”

“But—”

“You can do it, Avani. We’ll all climb together. Just—”

“I can’t! I can’t!”

“Please, Avani!” Despite my efforts, my tone was sharpening as my frustration eroded my patience. “Would you just—”

“We’re going to drown!” Avani wailed.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Miranda snapped. “If
I
can do it, anyone can! Start climbing or I swear I’ll drown you myself!”

“Hey!” Sam’s voice reverberated off the walls. “Look, it’s not that bad. We’ll go slowly and stay close together. Avani, here—take my hand. Got it? Good. I’ll be right here, every step, okay?”

“O-okay,” Avani replied softly.

“Breathe, remember? In-two-three-four, out-two-three four.”

I took the lead, leaving Avani in Sam’s care once more. Using nothing but my sense of touch to guide me, I clambered up the metal bars and bit down on my tongue to keep my teeth from grinding together. Splashes and grunts echoed around me as the others fumbled with the bars, trying to climb in utter darkness.

“It’s easier if you close your eyes,” said Kase. “Feel the way.”

“You do this often?” asked Avani, her voice tight. I could tell that even with Sam beside her, she was barely keeping a lid on the hysterics.

“We spent some time spelunking in Mexico two years ago,” he said.

“Oh.” I could hear the surprise in her voice, and maybe even a little respect.

We climbed in silence then, using all our energy to scale the configuration of metal beams. About twenty feet up, the cave walls began to loom in on us, and we had to wriggle through the beams and climb inside the scaffold, our backs pressed against the pipe. I could feel the pressure of the narrow space closing in on me like a vise, and I had to remind myself to breathe. Below me, I heard a muffled curse followed by a splash.

“Everyone okay?” I called down.

“My camera!” Kase called, his tone high with panic. “It was slung over my shoulder, but it just dropped!”

“Keep climbing, dude,” said Joey. “It’s gone.”

“I have to go back down!” said Kase.

His declaration was met with a chorus of protests.

“We’re all below you!” Avani growled. “My arms are shaking as it is! I’m not climbing all the way back down for your stupid camera.”

“
Guys
,” I said levelly, trying to keep them cool. This was not an ideal time to panic, but the tension of the tight space and the absolute darkness was like a corrosive acid, eating away at our spirits. “We have to keep climbing, Kase. I’m sorry.”

Besides a low snarl of frustration, he stayed silent.

We climbed for what seemed an eternity. I’d worked out the pattern of the beams and was moving more quickly now, one limb at a time, reminding myself not to rush. To fall at this point would be deadly, and I’d take out whoever was below me in the process.

Eventually my head struck what felt like concrete, and I yelped.

“What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

“
Don’t
fall on my head!”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I found the top. I think it’s some kind of cover. Hang on.”

Bracing my feet on the slippery beams, I ran my hands along the concrete overhead, then caught my breath when they touched a metal hatch. I found a handle and gripped it tight.

“Here goes,” I said. “Cross your fingers.”

With all my strength, I pushed upward. My arms were shaking and my feet began to slip, and I cried out and let go to grab the beams before I lost my footing.

“Someone else will have to help,” I said.

“I’m here,” said Kase.

I felt his hand groping the darkness, and I grabbed it and placed it on the metal cover.

“Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“One, two,
three
.”

We pushed up until I thought my head would explode from the effort—and then, with a groan of its hinges, the lid began to lift. Light shot through the cracks and I nearly fell again when it blinded me, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself to hang on.

It swung open with a crash, and I looked down to see the rest of the group groaning and blinking against the assault of sunlight.

I climbed up and offered a hand to Kase, and together we hauled everyone else out of the hole. I couldn’t even see the lake below, it was so far, only an inky depth.

Once everyone was out, I looked around.

We were sitting on a concrete box built around the top of the pipe, which had made a turn just below the hatch and ran into a large pump set on metal rails over the ground.

“What is this place?” breathed Sam.

I had no idea. It was a complex of some sort: several low, windowless buildings; a few collapsed tents; and what looked like earth-boring machines—hulking cranes with long, twisting drills. The buildings were made of the whitewashed, adobe-style construction common in Botswana, except these buildings had solar panels attached to their thatch roofs and massive generators lining their exteriors. Whoever was here, they needed a lot of electricity.

I saw no vehicles and no people, which was odd. No one would go to the trouble of building this place only to abandon it—the solar panels alone were worth a small fortune. Nor had it been sitting long, or the panels would have been stolen by now.

What was this place? Why had I never heard of it? I thought I knew every village, every airstrip, every abandoned hut in the central Kalahari.

There were signs that this place hadn’t been here long—maybe no more than two years. Still, word traveled fast in Botswana, particularly between those of us out in the wilderness. We had to know who our neighbors were, because we never knew when our lives might depend on them or when we’d need to alert them if a bushfire sprang up. Surely Matthieu had heard of this place or at least seen it from the air, but he’d never mentioned it to us.

I sighed and stood up, my exhaustion weighing on me. We were all dripping wet, but it wouldn’t be long before the dry air sucked all the moisture from our clothes. I pulled the dream catcher from my pocket and held it on my palm to let it dry out; the feathers were bedraggled and pathetic looking, but it was the only real possession I had left.

Kase began cursing and kicking the ground, sending up small whirlwinds of dust. I looked over in alarm and asked what was wrong. His head reared up and he gave me a wild glare.

“My
camera
, that’s what’s wrong! It’s still down there!” He pointed down the hatch.

“So’s my phone,” Miranda wailed. “All my music is on it!”

They stared at me with their eyebrows slanting angrily. I looked from one to the other, then caught on.

“You want me to go back down there?” I asked in disbelief.

Kase’s eyes slid haughtily away. “Well, unless you want to replace six thousand dollars worth of equipment . . .”

“No one’s going back down there,” said Sam. “Dude, it’s ruined anyway.”

“No, it was
waterproof
.”

“My phone wasn’t!” Miranda cried.

My temples throbbed painfully and I pressed my fingers to them, wincing. “I’m sorry about your camera and phone, really! My backpack is down there too, with my—”

“Did your backpack cost
six thousand dollars
?” Kase asked. “You dragged us out here with nothing to eat, nothing to drink, no tents, no gear, and now you want me to give up
this
?”

That did it. “
Everything
I
own
has been destroyed! My friend is dead, my dad is missing, and every possession I had is gone! So excuse me if I don’t exactly feel sorry about your cameras and phones!”

His mouth clapped shut, while the others watched in dead silence. Miranda took Kase’s arm and pulled him back, whispering in his ear. I let out a heavy sigh and pulled the band out of my hair, letting it fall loose and dripping. I twisted it between my hands, squeezing out the excess water. The movements calmed me a little.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be,” said Avani. “You’re right. You’ve lost more than we can imagine, and we haven’t even asked how you’re doing.”

I slowly tied my hair back into its usual low ponytail. “It’s just things,” I said hollowly. “They can be replaced. I just want to find my dad.” I looked toward the building. “Let’s see if anyone’s here. At the least, there might be something to eat.”

Everyone brightened at that, except for Kase, who was either ashamed or still angry, judging by his red complexion. We trudged to the nearest building. The door was cracked and creaked ominously when I opened it.

Inside was a laboratory. What exactly it was for I didn’t know—but the place was unmistakably some kind of high-tech research facility. Long, low counters were cluttered with beakers, microscopes, computers, minifridges, and cabinets. The room looked as if it had been evacuated while everyone was in the middle of their work: Vials had tipped over, spilling liquid onto the counters. A Bunsen burner was still going in the corner, though it had to be nearly out of fuel. One of the minifridges was hanging open, and the samples inside—collected in neatly labeled plastic and glass containers—smelled spoiled. Whoever had been here, they had left in a hurry. The lights were even still on, one of them flickering and popping. But most noticeable of all was the heavy odor of smoke that soon had us coughing and our eyes watering. I quickly found the source of the smell—several metal wastebaskets filled with ash.

“What do you think happened?” asked Sam.

“Looks like paper, mostly, and computer parts.” I picked up a scalpel from one of the tables and stirred it through the ash, revealing melted microchips and bits of paper that weren’t entirely burned.

“They were destroying the evidence,” said Joey.

“What?”

“Oh, come on. You’ve seen
CSI
!”

I gave him a blank look, and he sighed. “Right, you’re probably more of an Animal Planet type. Look around. There are no notes, none of the computers work, these bins are full of ash. They were burning their research. Getting rid of it.”

“Until something interrupted them,” said Avani thoughtfully. She was recovering quickly from her panic in the lake and had been mostly quiet since we had surfaced. “This isn’t cheap equipment. Strange to leave it like this.” She picked up a microscope that had fallen on the floor and placed it respectfully on a table.

I studied the room more closely. Joey was right. Anything that might have held notes, research documents, or data had been burned. I knew enough about research to know you recorded everything; our camp was—
had
been—flooded with notebooks and lists and loose papers. Whatever was being researched here, apparently someone had taken pains to hide it. And I suspected Avani was right, and that they’d been interrupted before they could finish the job.