“I’ll do it,” he said. “Show me how it works.”
“It’s simple. Align all three dials to zero, press this button. That primes it. Turn the dials to five. Press it again and boom. Find out if religion is for real.”
“What about this up here? What does that do?” Jack asked pointing to a LED display and a touchpad.
“It’s a timer. If we’re going to get out of here alive, this is the way we do it. Up arrow on the left for minutes. Up arrow on the right for seconds. Once you start, there’s no going back. Completely tamper-proof so even mind-reading a-holes like Huckley can’t do anything if they figure out what’s going on.” Lonetree shoved the detonator into one of the backpack’s pockets. “All right. Let’s do this.” Lonetree handed Jack a gun, knife and box of ammo. He positioned twice as many weapons on various parts of his body and then stuffed what was leftover into the backpack. “Hope for good aim,” he said with a smile. Rearing back, he flung the backpack over the river where it landed safely on the other side.
“You want to throw me too?”
“I’m going to try.”
“Thanks but I’ll go with the rope.” Jack said, wading along the wall toward where the rope rested on a hook. The water was cooler than last time, fed by the rainwater, but still felt like a lukewarm bath. He waded in up to his thighs, his feet spaced wide apart as he braced himself against the current. Not daring to go any further, he stretched his arm out and managed to grab hold of the rope with his fingertips. Carefully he reversed course and carried it back as far as possible toward Lonetree.
“O.K. Remember last time you did this?”
“You mean when I almost fell in? Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, this time has to be better.”
“Thanks,” Jack said, tugging on the rope and shining his light up at the rusted hook drilled into the ceiling. He listened as Lonetree described the plan, realizing he really hadn’t been kidding earlier. With one last tug on the rope, Jack nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Lonetree stood behind him and took hold of his jeans on either side of his waist. Jack shuffled backward as the big man pulled him back. Then his feet were off the ground as Lonetree hefted him up in the air. Jack pulled himself up a little on the rope as he was instructed and held his breath. He heard Lonetree grunt as he was lifted even farther off the ground and then hurled forward.
Jack felt Lonetree shove against his back and then the pressure was gone. Everything was silent. The air rushed past his face. He felt himself reach the bottom of the swing’s arc and kicked his legs forward to maximize his momentum.
He had to let go of the rope at just the right time and jump though.
The timing had to be perfect.
The difference of a second was the difference between life and death.
Wait, wait, wait, now!
Just as the thought to let go registered in his mind, the tension in the rope disappeared. Jack fell through the air, tangled in the rope that only seconds before had been his lifeline.
He hit the water on his back, knocking the wind out of him. Reaching down, he could feel the rock floor but he could also feel the current pulling him toward the middle of the channel.
Gasping for air, he clawed his way through the water, struggling to get a foothold on the slippery rock beneath him. He moved on instinct, not even certain he was going the right direction.
But slowly the pull of the current weakened and the water became shallower. Out of danger, he turned and righted his helmet which had slipped backward on impact. He shone his light up to the ceiling. The rope was no longer suspended over the river. The rusted hook was gone, replaced by a gaping hole in the rock.
Jack shuddered at how close he had come to death.
“You all right?” Lonetree called over.
“Yeah, I think so,” Jack said. He moved all his limbs to check for injury but found nothing. “The rope’s gone. How are you going to get across?”
Lonetree’s light danced across the rock face on either side of the river. It came to rest on the upriver side. “Grab the rope. It should still be attached to the guidelines. Those small ropes on the side.”
Jack waded over and pulled on the guideline. Sure enough it was still attached to the larger rope. Dragging it in against the current felt like fighting a big fish. Finally, he pulled in the end of the rope, including the clump of rock that still held the metal hook. Making sure Lonetree was ready, he threw the heavy end over and tied his end of the rope around his waist.
“Are you braced against something?” Lonetree asked.
Jack looked around the smooth walled tunnel. There was nothing he could use as a tie off. “Wait a second.” He grabbed the backpack Lonetree had thrown across and slipped it over his shoulders. At least the weight of the pack would give him a little more ballast. Then he sat on the rock floor and dug his heels into a deep crack in the ground. It wasn’t much but at least he could brace himself with his legs if Lonetree fell in. “Go ahead,” he shouted.
He watched as Lonetree’s light bobbled through the darkness on the other side of the river. The progress of the light slowed and Jack knew he was climbing the rock face. Jack took up the slack in the rope, careful to not pull hard enough to make him lose his balance.
“How is it?” Jack called out.
“Piece…of…cake.”
Lonetree’s response came in short, halting bursts. Jack knew the man was struggling. He had seen the rock face himself. It seemed impossible that anyone could climb across it. But he watched the light embedded in Lonetree’s helmet slowly float over the river and wondered if anything really was impossible for Lonetree. The guy was like some action superhero. Jack was half surprised he didn’t just leap over the water in a single bound.
This thought disappeared at the sight of the light tumbling down the wall. A fraction of a second later, Lonetree’s cry reached his ears. The rope went slack in Jack’s hands.
He watched in horror as Lonetree floated past him, beating his arms against the current.
Oh shit.
Jack realized what was about to happen and he braced for it. When Lonetree reached the opposite side of the passage the rope snapped taut.
Jack cried out from the pain of the rope cutting into his side. Leaning back so that he was almost parallel with the floor, he tried to absorb the weight in his legs, but he knew he couldn’t hold it for long.
Within seconds he felt his feet start to slip. Lonetree was too heavy.
Slowly, inch-by-inch, the rope pulled him forward out of position. Soon, he was looking down the length of rope at Lonetree struggling at the other end.
White water splashed everywhere around Lonetree’s hulking form. He was right at the mouth of the gaping hole where the river entered the rock wall. Working hand over hand, he was trying to pull himself up the rope, but the current was too strong. Lonetree’s helmet light shined right into Jack’s eyes, temporarily blinding him. When the light moved again, Jack could see Lonetree’s right hand held a knife. He was trying to cut the rope to keep Jack from being pulled into the water.
“NO!” Jack shouted.
His feet slipped forward another inch.
He clenched his teeth and pulled back against the weight even as his brain surged with commands for him to stop.
Let go of the rope. You need to stay alive so you can save your daughter.
He ignored the warnings and cinched the rope tighter around his waist. He watched as his feet edged up the rock incline he was using for a brace. He had to readjust his position or he would lose all traction.
With a heave, he pulled back on the rope and tried to jam his heels back down to get a better grip.
His feet missed.