Page 32 of Subterranean

The crack swallowed her up. The walls pressed, too tight even to turn her head to see Ashley behind her. All she could do was slide one leg forward and drag her body along behind it. She counted the steps, trying to divert her mind. A trick from therapy.

"You're doing fine," Ashley said behind her, squeezing her hand. "Just a little farther."

… Five… six… seven… Her breathing had steadied to a regular rhythm. One breath with each step. She could now see the end of the passageway, a face peering back at her.

"Good girl," Ben said. "You are one amazing piece of work. Three more steps and you're through."

A ghost of a smile played about her lips. She was doing it! eight… nine… te… Her left foot moved forward, but when she tried to wiggle her body to follow, her chest jammed snug in the crack. A squeak escaped her throat. In panic, she tried to force herself ahead, only pinning herself tighter. She squirmed backward, trying to free herself, but failed.

Please, not this way! she prayed. Don't let me die this way. By now she was beginning to hyperventilate, pinpoints of light began swirling before her eyes, her knees began to give way.

"Linda," Ashley said. "Don't stop now. You're just about through."

"I'm stuck," she squeaked, a panicked pitch to her voice.

"Ben," Ashley called ahead. "Linda's caught."

"Bloody hell," he said. "Give me more lights here!"

In a heartbeat, the crack blazed with light.

"I see," Ben said. "Listen to me, Linda. Reach a hand forward. Stretch it to me. There. I've got your hand. Now, on the count of three, I want you to blow out all the air from your lungs, shrink your chest, and I'm going to yank you through."

"No," she whispered, closing her eyes. She could hardly expand her chest now. "I'll get stuck again. Then I won't be able to breathe at all."

Silence. A standoff. Then Linda felt Ben release her hand and someone else take it. She recognized the grip. It had supported her over many obstacles. Khalid, her caving partner.

The Egyptian spoke in a calm, reassuring voice, almost as if trying to hypnotize her. "Linda, you know I won't fail you. You know the strength of my arms. Do as Ben says. I will pull you to me. Trust me."

Linda's heart pounded. She opened her eyes again; the pinpoints of light had multiplied to small constellations. She knew she was close to passing out. She nodded her head. "I trust you."

"On the count of three," Ben said from behind Khalid. "One… two… three!"

Linda pushed all the air from her chest, her lungs protesting. Her arm was pulled forward, dragging her body ten inches farther until she jammed again. Tears now coursed her cheek. This was how she would die.

Sudden pain shot through her shoulder. Her arm was yanked again, almost separating her shoulder joint. She screamed the last ebb of air from her lungs. It was enough. She popped out of the crack, like a cork from a shaken champagne bottle. Free.

"Is she all right?" Ashley asked as she slipped from the treacherous crack, noticing that Linda was supported in Khalid's arms.

Ben nodded. "I think so. Mostly shaken up. Her shoulder's going to ache like a son of a bitch, but she'll be fine."

She nodded. "That leaves only Michaelson. I want everybody ready to continue once he arrives."

Villanueva, who was crouched several yards down the tunnel, called to them. "Halloway's been this way." The SEAL shone a light on his upraised finger. It was red with blood. He then turned the light down the passageway. "It trails that way."

Ashley didn't say a word. Halloway was still running. "I want everyone armed," she said in a small voice. "Now!"

At the sound of scraping behind her, she turned to see Michaelson scrambling from the crack, his T-shirt torn. Ashley waved the group together. "Let's gear up. We leave in two minutes. I want a pistol or rifle in everyone's hand."

"Maybe we should just leave," Linda said, her cheeks still wet with tears, her voice trembling.

Ashley rested a hand on Linda's shoulder. "We've come too far. We've all got to stick together."

Linda took a deep breath, seeming to gird herself. When she spoke, her voice was steadier. "You're right."

Ashley squeezed Linda's shoulder, then faced the team. "Let's get moving."

No one else argued. Within moments, the group was hiking down the tunnel. Villanueva and Ben took the point, scouting several yards ahead.

"Stay within sight," she called when Ben drifted too far ahead. "Let's keep a tight group."

The tunnel split at a fork. Which way? Ashley looked questioningly at her scouts. Villanueva pointed with his light. "Blood trail goes this way," he said.

Ashley waved with her pistol for them to proceed ahead, expecting to find Halloway's collapsed body behind every turn of the tunnel. As each step drew them farther down the tunnel, their pace became more furious. Ashley's group now dogged the more cautious point men.

"You're on my back, woman!" Ben hissed at Ashley. "It won't help Halloway if we run over a cliff."

"Sorry, but there's so much blood."

"We're going as quickly as safety will allow."

Villanueva halted their discussion with a firm motion of his arm. He pointed around the next corner. Ashley crept next to him and peered past the curve. Up ahead, the tunnel dumped into a large cavern. "I think I should proceed alone," the SEAL said. "Check out the area."

"No. Not this time," Ashley said firmly. "I want the team together. More eyes to watch backs, and more trigger fingers to protect those backs."

Villanueva shrugged.

The team proceeded as a group into the cavern, flashlights flared out like the spokes of a wheel. The chamber was similar to the others they had crossed in their journey here. Stalagmites littered the floor; stalactites stabbed downward. Except there was one new feature. Ashley rubbed a snowflake from her eyelash. "Damn. It's snowing in here."

A small flurry of soft flakes fluttered through their light beams.

Linda held a hand out and flakes settled on her palm. "They're not cold or wet."

Ben shouldered his way to Ashley's side, brushing at the sifting of flakes. "This is bad."

"Why?"

"It's not snow. It's gypsum crystals." He pointed his flashlight to the branches of gypsum crystals festooning the ceiling of the chamber like twenty-foot white chandeliers. "They're fragile, delicate structures. Body heat can cause them to weaken and flake away."

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