Clutching his ankle, Teresa hadn’t time to wonder how he had stopped so suddenly. She held on tightly with both arms. Her flippered feet bumped the barricade and instinctively she kicked at it.
Miraculously, it gave way! Glancing quickly downstream, Teresa saw the current sweep away what remained of the precarious barrier. All it had taken was one extra nudge and the impediment was gone. What luck!
She almost let go to continue the journey. But then she paused. How is he holding on? a voice insisted. And why doesn’t he let go now that the way is clear?
Something else had to be wrong. Involuntary shivers were coursing down the man’s legs. He’s in trouble, she realized.
Fighting the current, worming her arms forward one at a time, Teresa climbed up his legs inch by awful inch, seizing at last a solid grip on his belt. She lifted her head to see what Alex was doing.
My God! Bubbles escaped Teresa’s mouth as she tried not to cry out. The goggles prevented her from looking within the circle of darkness framing the man’s face. But she didn’t need any look in his eye to know panic and despair. With growing feebleness, Alex clawed at a thong that gouged deeply into his neck, releasing thin trails of blood every time the current let up a bit. That same current almost dragged Teresa’s goggles off as she shifted to try to see around the black circle, to whatever had him trapped.
It was the map plaque. Somehow it had jammed into a crevice left by the cave slide! It was what had stopped them both from crashing among the razor-sharp rocks just seconds ago. Now wedged in place by Alex’s struggles, it also anchored the noose that was strangling the life out of him.
There was no time for thought. Teresa’s knife was at her ankle, while Lustig’s was convenient at his thigh. It would have to be his then. But to take it meant she’d have to let go with one arm! And Teresa knew she couldn’t hold on… unless.
She took three deep breaths, spat out her mouthpiece and bit down hard on his belt, fastening her teeth as hard as she could. Gripping tight with her left arm, she released the right and fought to bring it to the knife. The river buffeted them like flags. But in spite of the pain, her jaw and shoulder remained in their sockets as her right hand fumbled with the sheath snap and at last brought out the gleaming blade.
Teresa squeezed both arms around him again and wriggled the pungent belt out of her mouth. Now came the hard part — holding her breath while worming her way up Alex’s body, centimeter by centimeter. His shirt was in tatters of course, and blood streamers stained the chill water as she noted with one dim corner of her mind that the man’s chest was even hairier than Jason’s… And that, of all things, he had an erection!
Now? Males are so bizarre.
Then she recalled the old wives’ tale — that men sometimes grow tumescent when they are close to death. Teresa hurried.
Her arms were close to giving out and her lungs were burning by the time she wrapped her legs around his thighs, held tight with one arm, and reached upstream with the knife. She tried not to stab him in the face or throat as the fickle, trickster river tore and twisted at her grip with sudden surges, forcing her hand this way and that.
He had to be alive and conscious still. Or was it just a reflex that caused Alex to run a hand along her outstretched arm, nudging her aim? All at once, through the metal blade, she felt the taut, bowstring tension of the thong, thrumming a bass tone of death.
Now! Bear down, bitch. Do it!
With a force of will Teresa drove strength into her arm. The thong resisted… then parted with a sharp twang that reverberated off the narrow walls.
Suddenly they were tumbling downstream, bouncing against the floor and ceiling. Teresa had to choose between protecting her goggles from the tearing slipstream and cramming the breather tube back into her mouth. She chose breath over sight and grabbed the aerator, quenching her agonized lungs even as the high-tech optics were torn off her head, turning everything black.
The wild ride ended just a few chaotic moments later. Abruptly, the bottom seemed to drop out as she flew into what felt like open air! The former low, thrumming growl now crested to a clear, crashing roar. Gravity took her, and the plummet lasted a measureless time… ending at last in a splash at the foot of a noisy waterfall.
The pool was deep and cold and utterly black. Teresa struggled toward what she devoutly hoped would be the surface. When her head finally broached again, she treaded water, spat out her mouthpiece, and drank in the sweetness of unbottled air. Up was up again, and down was down. For a moment it didn’t matter that nothing — not even the green glimmer of worms — illuminated her existence. Other people, after all, had gone blind and lived. But no one had ever managed very long without air.
“Alex!” she shouted suddenly, before even thinking of him consciously. He might be knocked out somewhere in this inky lake, drifting away silently, unconscious…’ and she without sight to look for him!
She swam away from the falls until the clatter and spume faded enough to let her hear herself think. “Alex!” she called again. Oh God, if she was alone down here. If he died because she passed within inches, just missing him without even knowing it… ?
Was that a sound? She whirled. Had someone coughed? It sounded like coughing. She kicked a turn, seeking the source.
“Uh… over…” More coughing interrupted the faint, croaking voice. “Over… here!”
She thrashed the water in frustration. “I lost my goggles, dammit.”
The current seemed to be drawing them closer, at least. Next time his voice was clearer. “Ah… that must be…” He coughed one last time. “… must be why I can see your face now. You look terrible, by the way.”
He sounded nearby. Alex kept talking to guide her. “Go left a bit… um… and thank you… for saving my life. Yes, that’s it. Gets shallow about there… left a bit more.”
Teresa felt sandy bottom beneath her feet and sighed as she dragged her heavy, shivering body out of the clinging black wetness. “Here, this way,” she heard him say, and a hand grabbed her arm. She clutched it tightly and sobbed suddenly with emotion she hadn’t been aware of till that moment. Now that all the furious action had stopped, a sudden wave of lygophobia washed over her and she shivered at the intimidating darkness.
“It’s all right. We’re safe for the time being.” He guided her to sit down beside him and put his arms around her to share warmth. “You’re an impressive individual, Captain… um, Teresa.”
“My friends…” she said, catching her breath as she clutched him tightly. “Sometimes, my friends call me… Rip.”
She knew he was smiling, though she couldn’t even see the hand that brushed her stringy, sopping hair out of her eyes. “Well,” he said from very close. “Thanks again, Rip.” And he held her till the shivering stopped.
Some time later, Teresa borrowed his goggles to look around. The Hadean lake stretched farther to the left and right than the tiny beam could reach, and the ceiling might as well have been limitless. Only echoes confirmed they were underground — and her fey sense, which told her countless meters of ancient rock lay between them and any exit from this place.
She gasped when she saw the extent of poor Alex’s scrapes and bruises. “Whoosh,” she sighed, touching the noose mark around his throat. It was certain to be permanent.
“A Scotsman, one of my ancestors, died this way,” he commented, tracing the bloody runnel with his fingertips. “Poor sod was caught in bed with the mistress of a Stuart prince. Not wise, but it makes for good telling centuries later. My famous grandmother says she always expected to wind up on the gallows, too. Finds the idea romantic. Maybe it runs in the family.”