plan was to speak encouragement through the entire length of the tunnel, but that proved too demanding. He needed every ounce of strength he had left. So they inched their way in silence, their progress measured by the increasing pain in his back and sides and chest.
He prayed she would be able to keep her hands on his legs. Twice she slipped, but managed to regain her hold.
He became oblivious to everything except the feel of her hands around his ankles and the pinpoint of light in front of him. They were all that mattered in this world.
The tunnel widened and sloped upward abruptly. He held the flashlight in his teeth so he could use both hands to scramble onto a smooth plateau. He reached back and hauled Kyndal up the last few feet. His heart sank as he panned the area with the light.
A dead end.
One opening that didn’t look promising—just a wide fissure really.
No water.
He’d chosen the wrong way, and Kyndal would never make it back down the passage and up through another one. She was too weak.
He’d failed.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” His mouth formed the words of its own accord.
A faint ringing started in his ears as darkness closed in around him. “Can’t pass out. Don’t pass out.” He ground the words out through clenched teeth as he threw the beam around aimlessly.
Dampness. Moisture. Close. He could smell it. Taste it.
Willing his head to stop spinning, he focused on the opposite wall. There was something odd about it. He put down the flashlight and crawled the short distance over to it, touching it with his finger. Not hard limestone. Not rock. Soft. Applying pressure, his finger sank into it. He spread his fingers and grasped a handful. Dirt.
A cave-in.
He lay back and shut his eyes, letting the sickening realization wash through him. At one time, this probably had been a way out, but now it was blocked. By how much dirt? How far to the surface? He could try digging up through it, but if it was unstable that could bring the roof down.
“Chance.”
He opened his eyes.
Kyndal had taken the flashlight. He could barely make out her legs protruding from the wide fissure.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KYNDAL STARED AT…THE SUN? No warmth. No light. Yet it was the sun.
Her brain struggled to make sense of what she saw. A picture of the sun. A painting.
Still on her back, she dug her elbows into the soft flooring and scooted farther into the hole, protecting her foot as much as possible. Soft flooring? Fur. She was lying on fur.
“What is it, Kyn?”
She didn’t answer, didn’t know how—just drew her legs up out of the way to give Chance room to crawl in behind her.
When he did, she heard his sharp intake of breath. “My God!” He took the flashlight from her and pumped it to the max, scanning the wall with the light.
Red. Red all around. And black, staring eyes. Heads and eyes painted on the walls. Figures. Drawings of figures. Graffiti? Had the teenagers been here?
“I think you’ve found an ancient room.” Chance’s voice was thick with heavy breathing.
The light fell on tied bundles scattered around the base of the wall. Chance grabbed one up. “Animal pelts.” He broke the ragged gut cord and shook the bundle open. The brown fur was beautifully preserved—full and lush. “Coyote.”
Kyndal concentrated on forming the words. “Then there’s a way—”
“Shh!”
“—out from here,” she finished.
“Shhh!” Chance covered her mouth with his hand. His eyes were wide, and he cocked his head, looking like a deranged bird listening for a worm. She wanted to giggle, but her body couldn’t muster enough energy. Instead, her eyes lazily followed the light.
Suddenly, Chance lunged toward a black streak on the wall. A small indentation at the bottom of it held a clay bowl, brimming over with liquid.
“Water!” Chance ran his hand along the streak. He reached out to the bowl, then pulled his hand away, touching his fingers to his mouth. They trembled violently against his lips.
“Kyn, you need this water.” His wild-eyed gaze locked on to her. “I don’t think I can pick it up without spilling it, and you need every drop.” He laid the flashlight down and cupped the sides of her face, forcing her to look at him. His hands, which had been so warm before, were cool against her skin. “I want you to lie on your belly and sip it down a little. Can you do that?”