The Solomon Curse (29 page)

Sam's arm broke from the water and he pulled himself upward, battling the rushing froth as his head shot into the air. He gasped as he struggled to cross to the far side, the surge pulling him toward where the water disappeared beneath a limestone drop. He fought its powerful draw with steady strokes, as Remi and Lazlo fed out line, the river a roar in his ears, and then light played across the darkness—Remi was shining her flashlight on the far bank to guide him.

Sam's knee bashed against rock and his leg went numb. Just then, his fingers felt cold stone—he'd made it to the other side. He scrabbled onto the bank, sensation returning to his leg, with a throbbing in his knee, and he lay on his back, catching his breath.

His relief was interrupted by an urgent tug on the rope. He looked across the water where Remi stood—he'd been washed ten yards downstream in the blink of an eye. She gestured to the area behind her and cut her light, plunging the cave into darkness. Sam understood. Their pursuers were coming and she didn't want to offer any clues to which passage they'd taken.

Sam retrieved the plastic flashlight from his pocket and flicked it on and, thankfully, it illuminated. He made his way directly across from Remi and tugged back on the rope as he looked around for anything he
could tie his end to. Failing to find anything obvious, he rose and anchored himself against the eroded remains of a boulder. Lazlo wrapped the cord around his waist and did the same. The line went taut a few feet above the rushing river's surface, and Remi wasted no time. She stashed her light in her waistband, gripped the rope with both hands, and edged into the water, using the rope to guide her.

When the bottom went out from beneath Remi's feet and she was in the full surge of the current, it was all Sam could do to maintain control over the rope. He was forced to wind in several feet of rope when Lazlo skidded on his side, losing ground. He felt the jolt of the line as Remi's hands struggled and exhaled a loud sigh of relief when she regained her footing and moved to join him, dripping wet but unharmed.

“Lazlo. Tie the rope around your waist and swim over. We'll pull you to this side,” Sam called out, his words amplified by the stone walls.

Lazlo did as instructed, and Sam whispered loudly to Remi, “You ready to do this?”

“Yes, but we don't have much time. They sound close.”

Lazlo made his move, and Sam began reeling in the rope with Remi's help, the uneven surface near the boulder providing the necessary traction for their boots. Lazlo splashed into the water like an ungainly stork picking its way through a marsh and then he was in the current, flailing and sputtering on the end of the line as Sam and Remi pulled with all their might.

He was halfway across when Remi's grip slipped and a yard of rope burned through Sam's hands as he fought for a hold. As Lazlo's head went under, Sam's fingers locked on the cord. He stopped the slippage, sweat beading on his forehead, as he wrapped the rope around his forearm. Remi regained her footing and resumed pulling, but Lazlo's weight combined with the power of the current presented an almost impossible challenge.

After a few frantic moments, Lazlo broke the surface near them and
coughed, his hacking like gunfire in the cave as he fought for breath. Sam and Remi heaved him the rest of the way out of the water and he stared up at them in the gloom like a wet dog. Water dripped from his hair and mustache, lending him the appearance of an emaciated walrus.

Boots clomped from in the passage, and Sam whispered to Lazlo, “Bring the rope and follow me.”

Lazlo pushed himself to his feet, trying to contain his coughing, as Sam tossed the rope aside. Lazlo gathered it quickly and darted after Sam and Remi as they disappeared into the recesses of the elongated cave, following the passage around a natural bend. Sam kept his light off as he felt along the wall, the way burned into his memory from the one quick glance he'd had in his flashlight's beam.

They didn't have to wait long. The glow from the islanders' lights approached from the far reaches of the cave, and Sam signaled for them to stop, once around the bend, so he could peer back and see whether they were being pursued.

The islanders arrived at the riverbank—four or five, by the sound of it. Sam could hear their frustrated voices reverberating in the cave, the angry tone of the leader more animated than those of his men, who sounded subdued. Sam couldn't understand what they were saying, but he didn't need a translation as they neared the water—they were going to try to make it across the river.

One of the lights flashed along the bank and stopped at the wet footprints leading to the recess where the Fargos had taken cover. Sam swore under his breath and turned to Remi. “They spotted our trail,” he whispered.

“Think they can make it?”

Sam shook his head. “Not unless they do the same thing I did.”

“Think they'll figure it out?” Lazlo asked.

“We'll soon know.”

“They didn't strike me as particularly bright,” Lazlo said. “And unless I'm mistaken, they're all high as kites on something. Amped out of
their gourds. Did you see their eyes? I don't think we have to worry about them catching on quickly.”

“Let's hope you're right.”

Sam resumed his vigil. The gunman was pointing at the river with his weapon and having a hurried discussion with one of his men, who looked unconvinced. The gunman barked an instruction and the other man quickly removed his boots and padded toward the river, his bare feet silent on the stone.

He waded into the water up to his knees and, after testing the current, glanced back over his shoulder to the gunman, who made a curt gesture. The hapless man edged in deeper and then went under with a loud splash, sucked down by the current as it strengthened nearer the middle. Sam watched as the others' lights roamed over the water, but after a few moments there was still no sign of the swimmer. Sam remembered the uncontrollable rush of the relentless undertow that had nearly pulled him to the bottom and shuddered. There was no way anyone could have survived.

He turned back to Remi and Lazlo. “They won't be trying that again anytime soon. That's one down.” Sam glanced at the depths of the long connecting cave beyond. “Let's put some distance between us and the river before they figure out how to get across.”

Sam took the lead and felt his way along the walls until the faint light from the islanders' flashlights was a memory and then switched on his lamp and picked up the pace. After several minutes, he stopped, listening. The only sound was their breathing, which filled the silent passageway.

Remi's eyes met his. “We lost them.”

Sam shook his head. “Not for long. We need to keep moving. Eventually, they'll figure it out, and I want to be long gone by the time that happens.”

“It's a bit mad that they're so determined to get us, isn't it?” Lazlo asked.

“Looks like we stumbled across their dirty secret and they want to keep us from telling anyone. Can you imagine the uproar if it was known that the rebels have been slaughtering dozens of children and that we have a pretty fair idea where they're hiding out?”

“There would be an army up here within hours,” Remi said.

“Which may blow our search, but I'd say that's a foregone conclusion now,” Sam agreed. “Of course we need to get to civilization for any of that to happen, which isn't as certain.”

“What if this cave system has only one way in?” Lazlo asked in a quiet voice.

“That wouldn't be good,” Sam said grimly. “Come on. Let's find a way out of here.”

Remi nodded and glanced back over her shoulder. “Poor Leonid. We'll have to try to rescue him when we return with the police. Can you imagine what it must be like for him? Stuck somewhere in the dark, nobody around, probably injured . . .”

“Let's just hope he isn't too badly hurt.”

“And that he's smart enough to keep quiet when the bad guys come looking,” Lazlo added.

The caves were connected, comprising a series of chambers created by underground streams, which had carved tunnels between the larger areas. Sam led them into a massive cavern, the ceiling easily thirty feet high, where another smaller river cut along both sides, continuing the erosive process that had been under way for countless millennia.

Sam's flashlight was beginning to wane as they crossed a stone bridge near the far side. He slowed, and he and Remi exchanged a worried look. “Let's see if your light made it through the river intact.”

She removed it from her waistband and tried it, but no light greeted the click of the switch. “It's dead. Better hurry up.”

“Lazlo?” Sam asked.

“I'm afraid I lost track of mine while going for my dip,” he said.

Sam studied the beam's waning intensity and pointed it toward the next connecting passage. “Then we've got no time to waste.”

The ground sloped upward as they entered the long tunnel-like cave. Sam led them hurriedly through the maze of stalagmites that jutted from the floor like fangs. The precious light faded with every step. The flashlight was dimming to the point where it was more a comfort than an illumination when they found themselves in another large cavern, with a glimmering pool of water at the far end. Sam was halfway to the water when the batteries died and they were plunged into complete darkness. He reached out his hand to Remi, who sensed his proximity and took it. She repeated the gesture with Lazlo, and together they crept slowly nearer to the water's edge.

“Now what?” Remi asked when Sam stopped.

“We rest while we figure out our next move,” Sam said.

Remi bit her tongue, as did Lazlo—there was nothing to say that would help their situation and complaints wouldn't do any good.

They sat down, and Remi leaned forward to touch the surface of the pool. The water was cool, and, after sniffing her fingers, she cupped her hand and brought some to her lips.

“It's fresh,” she whispered. “Which means it's being fed by a source.”

“At least we won't die of thirst,” Lazlo muttered.

“We're not going to die,” Sam said, conviction in his voice, as he peered around the cave.

“That's reassuring, but it would be more so if we knew where we were or had any hope of finding a way out,” Lazlo groused.

Sam ignored him as he slowly stood. “Remi, is it my imagination or is there a tiny bit of light coming from about three-quarters up the wall to our right?”

Remi's eyes scanned the same direction. “I don't see anything.”

Lazlo shook his head in the dark. “Afraid not, old man.”

“I'm sure I see something. I'm going to try to get up there. There's a rubble pile along that wall. Hopefully, it will support me,” Sam said.

“Are you sure rock climbing in the dark is a good idea?” Remi asked softly.

“What's plan B?”

Sam felt along the edge of the water, following it around to where it met the cave wall. He steeled himself as he willed his eyes to adjust, but he couldn't see his hand in front of him—only a pin spot of faint light from somewhere up the jumble of rocks and debris, now gone due to the angle. Unless it was all a hallucination.

Sam instinctively glanced at where his watch would have been if his captors hadn't stripped it from him and swore under his breath. He had no idea how long they'd been prisoners, much less in the caves. It felt like at least half a day, possibly more, and he realized that he didn't know whether it was still light out or not—or whether the light he believed he'd seen was a new dawn or some new unthought-of danger.

Sam felt along the rock pile, testing the rubble for stability, before pulling himself up a few feet. Visions of venomous snakes nesting in the crannies flashed through his imagination, as his fingers touched the edges of another rock, and he willed the image away.

He heaved himself up another couple of inches, but one of the rocks he was using to stabilize his feet gave way and he slipped in a shower of gravel and dust, scraping his hands as he grappled for a hold. His fingers locked onto another, larger rock and he stopped his fall, taking a moment to catch his breath once he was sure he wasn't in any immediate danger.

Remi's voice floated across the water to him. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little slip. Wouldn't be any fun if there wasn't a challenge to it, right?” Sam said.

He'd give anything for thirty more seconds of light, but those were the breaks. If he ever wanted to see anything again, he'd have to earn it.

Another hold, another few inches of progress, then another, and another, as he painstakingly moved up the rubble pile, the occasional clatter of a loose stone tumbling to the bottom his only reward. As Sam
ascended, he noticed that the rocks were getting smaller and he allowed himself the luxury of hope—perhaps on the other side of the imposing wall lay freedom and the landslide he was now climbing had created a breach in the stone.

He groped with his left hand above him and edged higher and then stopped, afraid to breathe. Just above his head was a chink in the rocks. Only a hairline crack, but he could smell jungle wafting through it—and he could feel the humid heat of the outdoors, faint but real.

Sam felt for any loose rocks and was able to shift a football-sized stone half an inch. He worked it back and forth and a scant moment later the rock fell down the pile, leaving a hole he could just fit his arm through—and from which drifted the unmistakable rustling of vines and dim glow of moonlight.

He redoubled his efforts and within minutes had created a large enough opening to squeeze through. He turned and looked down to where he could now make out the shadowy forms of Remi and Lazlo in the gloom. “Well, don't stand there all night. Our chariot awaits.”

“I don't suppose you have any tips for the best way to scale this mound of debris?” Lazlo asked.

“Carefully,” Sam shot back.