White Cave Escape Read online

  Shawn held up his hand. Silently, he pointed to the ground. Right next to Petra, a gaping, black hole yawned out of the earth. She yelped in surprise and jerked back.

  Just then, Craig and Tony caught up, skidding to a stop beside them.

  “Holy cow!” exclaimed Tony in horrified amazement, looking at the hole. “Holy cow, that was close!”

  Craig edged cautiously forward and looked down. He whistled. “Wow—do you think it goes all the way to China?”

  “I don’t think I want to find out,” replied his brother, getting to his feet and offering a hand to Petra. “Sorry for tackling you so hard,” Shawn said as he pulled her upright. “Are you hurt?”

  Petra shook her head wordlessly, still staring down into the black emptiness beside her.

  Shawn nudged the ground at the mouth of the hole. A clod of dirt and rock crumbled away and fell into the unseen depths. Several heartbeats later, a faint splash echoed up from the darkness.

  “Whoa,” said Tony.

  “How deep would you say that is?” asked Craig.

  “Fifteen metres, I guess,” said Shawn. “At least.”

  “What is it?” asked Craig. “It doesn’t look like a sinkhole. For one thing, it’s kind of…square.”

  “No,” said Petra, finding her voice at last. “It’s not a sinkhole. It’s a mine shaft. Look.” Now they noticed the rotting wooden beams showing through the soil and dirt. Although eroded with time, the walls of the hole were surprisingly regular, and sharply vertical—like an elevator shaft—plunging straight down into the earth.

  “Man, don’t they know it’s dangerous to leave old mining shafts just lying around like that?” exclaimed Tony indignantly. “Somebody could break their neck!”

  “Are there more of these holes just, uh, lying around?” asked Craig, looking around nervously.

  “I don’t know,” said Petra with a shudder. “Maybe.”

  Shawn looked at the mine shaft. “Hmmmm,” he said. “I wonder…”

  “What?” Tony prodded him. But Shawn shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I had a crazy idea, but it’s too dangerous. Forget it. Come on—let’s get out of here.”

  Huddled close together now, the friends moved through the trees, eyes scanning the forest floor for any signs of holes, shafts, or collapsed tunnels.

  “Did you notice there’s not so much smoke now?” said Craig after a few minutes.

  Shawn nodded. “We must have put a bit of distance between us and the fire. Let’s hope we can keep it that way.”

  At that moment there was a yelp and a splash. Shawn, Petra, and Craig spun around to see Tony thrashing about in a scum-covered bog. Shawn leaped towards his friend and hauled him onto solid ground. Snorting and gasping, Tony shook himself like a dog, spraying water everywhere.

  “What happened?!” exclaimed Shawn, trying not to laugh at his bedraggled buddy.

  “What does it look like? I fell in a puddle!” spluttered Tony.

  “Must have been some puddle!” commented Craig. Tony was soaked from the neck down.

  “C-c-c-cold!” chattered Tony. “And d-d-d-deep!”

  “Hey, there’s another one here,” called Petra from a few metres away. She pointed to a small pool of brown water, half-hidden by weeds and low-hanging branches.

  “There, too,” added Shawn, pointing out another boggy patch, its murky waters camouflaged by a green scum of algae and floating dead leaves.

  “They’re everywhere,” exclaimed Craig, turning in a slow circle. “Where are we?”

  “Welcome to the Pits of Despair,” answered a voice from the shadows.

  chapter

  11

  The Pits of Despair

  “Who said that? Who’s there?” cried the four young people. They pressed close together, scanning the surrounding trees for the source of the voice. In the muted and shifting light of the forest, a weird and swampy terrain was revealing itself. Arthritic trees— fir, spruce, a few melancholy maples, some scraggly birches—slouched over scattered pools of brackish water. A camouflage pattern of light and shadow lay in shattered pieces across the forest floor. It was hard to tell where the penny-coloured puddles ended and the brown ground began.

  “It’s me,” said the voice.

  The friends whirled. There was a rustling in the bushes and a figure stepped into view.

  “Colin!” cried Petra. “You’re alive! And…and— unchewed!”

  Colin looked confused. “Huh?”

  “The bear, man!” exclaimed Tony. “How did you escape? We thought you were bear bait!”

  “Bear? But I thought you said there wasn’t a bear.

  I left right after you guys. I found another path—but it got too smoky, so I doubled back. Then I heard voices, so I headed this way.” Colin eyed Tony’s wet clothes. “You should stay out of that water, you know,” he said.

  “Thanks for the tip,” growled Tony, tugging off one wet sneaker and emptying its liquid contents onto the ground.

  “Seriously,” warned Colin. “They’re not just water holes…they’re pits.”

  “Oh, they’re the pits, all right,” said Tony, squeezing water out of his sock. He squirmed uncomfortably. “Ew…I’ve got slime in my shorts.”

  But Petra looked sharply at Colin. “What exactly do you mean by ‘pits’?” she asked. Colin waved his hand at the scattered pools.

  “These are all pits from the gypsum mines.

  Sinkholes, collapsed mining tunnels, old mine shafts—that’s what these ‘puddles’ really are, except now they’re flooded. It’s not exactly the safest place to get lost. That’s why they’re called the Pits of Despair.”

  “The Pits of Despair,” repeated Tony. “Perfect.” He stepped into his sneaker with a noisy squelch. “This day just keeps getting better and better,” he muttered.

  “So do you know how to get out of here, then?”

  Petra asked Colin.

  Colin ducked his head in embarrassment. “I’ve read about this place and I’ve seen it on maps, but this is the first time I’ve been in this part of the woods. I followed your voices because I was hoping you guys might know the way out.” Colin looked around. “By the way, where’s your dog?”

  “Oh my gosh—Hobart!” gasped Petra. “Where is he?”

  The friends launched a barrage of whistles and shouts but the only thing that came back was an echo. There was no sign of the big, black dog.

  “Oh no,” whispered Petra. “Oh no, oh no…”

  “He must have gotten separated from us when we left the trail,” said Shawn worriedly, scanning the trees.

  “What if he fell into a shaft or a sinkhole?” moaned Petra. “What if he runs back into the fire?” She covered her face with her hands. “This is all my fault! If I hadn’t taken off after the crows like that…”

  “It’s nobody’s fault,” Shawn quickly reassured her.

  “Oh, it’s somebody’s fault, all right,” growled Tony, glowering at Colin.

  Colin’s face went stiff and tight. “I didn’t start the fire.”

  “Sure, sure…and you didn’t run that fawn to death, either,” retorted Tony.

  “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Colin whispered. His face was suddenly very white. “It was an accident.”

  “How about that little victory dance you guys did afterwards? The high-fives? The cheers? Were they accidents too?” Petra’s voice was icy.

  “I didn’t—I mean…” Colin was backing away, shaking his head. “That was Brad. You have to play along with Brad or else…or else…”

  “Or else what? You might actually grow a back-bone? Or turn into a decent human being?” finished Tony.

  Colin gritted his teeth. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand…”

  “You’re right—I don’t understand,” said Shawn.

  The memory of the crumpled body of the fawn had come rushing back, filling him with white-hot anger.

  �
��We didn’t ask you to come looking for us, so why don’t you just go on back to your friends and leave us alone?”

  “Friends? Friends?” The outrage in Colin’s voice startled them all. “You think those jerks are my friends? They left me behind. I wrecked my quad and they didn’t even come back to see if I was okay. They left me alone in the middle of a freakin’ forest fire!

  They are not my friends. They never were.” Colin’s chest was heaving as if he had just run a race. Petra, Shawn, Tony, and Craig stared at him in shocked silence.

  Colin aimed a furious kick at a tree. Then he leaned his head against the trunk, his anger melting into despair. “My stepdad’s right—I am stupid,” he groaned. “I just thought…I thought if I took the four-wheeler out and showed those other guys how cool the quarry was, they’d stop hassling me at school.

  I just wanted them to get off my back. None of this was supposed to happen. But now I’ve messed up everything!”

  The four friends looked at the troubled teen. They looked at one another. Then Shawn let out his breath in a noisy sigh and kicked a pebble into the nearest pool. “It’s a mess, all right,” he agreed. “But seeing as we’re in it together, I guess we might as well try and get out of it together. How come you know so much about this place, anyway?”

  Colin lifted his head and looked at them uncertainly. Then he began to speak in a quiet, halting voice:

  “I come to the quarry whenever my stepdad is home. Which is a lot, since he got laid off at work.

  He’s…not the nicest guy to be around.” Colin shot them a quick look from under his shaggy bangs.

  “It’s quiet at the quarry. Sort of peaceful. Mostly, I just sit by myself and watch stuff. It’s amazing what you can see if you’re really quiet.” Colin’s dark eyes brightened. “I’ve seen foxes and rabbits and deer.

  Even saw a lynx once. I know where the pheasant has her nest, too. Had her nest,” he corrected himself, glancing up at the smoky clouds coiling overhead.

  Pain and shame choked his voice.

  He took a shaky breath and went on. “Mostly I just hang around the main King Quarry, but one time, in gym class, the teacher showed us an orienteering map. It showed every landmark of this whole area—every rock, ditch, and puddle.”

  “Don’t suppose you happen to have that map on you now?” asked Tony hopefully.

  But Colin shook his head. “The teacher wouldn’t let me take it, but I went back at noon-hour and had a really good look. We’re in the Pits of Despair. I’m sure of that much.” Colin furrowed his brow, thinking hard. “That means the King Quarry—where we started from—is to the south of us. The golf course is to the east.”

  “Which means the fire is to the southeast,” reasoned Petra. “It started in the quarry and was spreading towards the golf course.”

  “So we should go west?” wondered Craig.

  But Colin shook his head. “Nothing but wilderness that way,” he said. “The forest goes on for miles and miles in that direction. We’d just get permanently lost.”

  Shawn’s eyes flickered over the water-filled pits. “What if…” he said slowly.

  “What?” asked Petra.

  “What if we went down?”

  “What?”

  “Think about it,” said Shawn, his voice rising in excitement. “These hills are full of underground holes and tunnels. If we could get below ground, we’d be safe from the fire!”

  “Oh no,” said Tony, throwing up his hands and backing away. “I am not going down a fifty-foot mine shaft. No way, no how!”

  “For once I have to agree with Tony,” said Petra. “Those tunnels are a death trap, Shawn, even if we could get down into them. Which we can’t. And besides, they’re flooded, remember?”

  “Um, not all of them,” Colin interrupted. “The Pits of Despair are flooded, but the White Caves aren’t. Not completely, anyway.”

  “The what?” chorused the friends.

  “The White Caves.” Colin’s pale cheeks flushed with excitement. “They’re gypsum caves, carved out of the ground by the melting glaciers at the end of the ice age. My dad—my real dad—took me hiking there once, years ago.”

  “Where are the White Caves?” Petra demanded.

  “North,” answered Colin. “They should be only a couple of miles from here. Shawn’s idea just might work, if we can find the caves. And if we can outrun the fire.”

  “Those are two pretty big ifs,” observed Tony.

  “What are we waiting for?” exclaimed Craig. “Let’s go! North it is! Onward and downward!”

  He took a running step toward the trees. And stopped. “So, uh, which way is north again?”

  Colin shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you guys knew,” he said.

  “We’re doomed,” said Tony.

  chapter

  12

  An Electrifying Solution

  “Hobart! Hobie! Here, boy!” called Petra. But no friendly black dog came lumbering out of the woods. Behind her, Craig and Tony were arguing about which way was north. Shawn walked over to Petra. “No luck?” he said quietly.

  “I just hate to go on without him,” she whispered, staring into the forest.

  “He’ll be okay,” Shawn told her with a confidence he didn’t feel. “Hobie’s smart. And he’s got a great nose to guide him. He’s probably waiting for us back at the golf club right now.”

  Behind them, the argument was getting louder.

  “North!” insisted Tony.

  “South!” argued Craig.

  “No way—I’m sure that survivor guy on TV said that moss grows on the north side of a tree.”

  “That’s dumb,” retorted Craig. “Why would moss grow on the north side? Don’t plants like warm places? It grows on the south side.”

  “Oh geez—there’s moss growing on all sides of this tree!”

  “I think I heard somewhere that ants always build their anthills on the south side of a tree,” Colin interjected.

  “Oh, great,” Tony replied sarcastically. “Now all we have to do is find an anthill and we’re saved.”

  “Hey,” protested Colin, “I’m just trying to help. We have a head start on the fire right now, but it’s not going to last. We have to make a decision and get moving.”

  Petra nodded.

  “Colin’s right,” she said. “Fighting isn’t going to help us figure out which way north is.”

  “It’s that way!” yelled Tony and Craig at the same time, pointing in opposite directions.

  Shawn ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “This is crazy. We need a compass.”

  “Yeah, how come you didn’t bring a compass, Petra?” asked Tony accusingly. “I thought your motto was ‘always be prepared.’”

  “I wasn’t planning on getting lost on the golf course!” exclaimed Petra.

  “No one ever plans to get lost,” said Tony, wagging his finger at her. “Next time, Petra, you should really think ahead before you go charging off into the woods.”

  “Me?” Petra took a step towards Tony, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

  “Okay, okay,” said Shawn, stepping between them. “I’m sure we can solve this rationally. No violence necessary.”

  “Not necessary, but oh, so tempting,” growled Petra, glaring at Tony. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets. “YEOW!” she yelped.

  “WAH! WHERE’STHEBEAR?” yelped Tony, jumping back and looking around frantically.

  But Petra was sucking her thumb. “Owww… There’s no bear,” she told Tony in an irritated tone. “I just stabbed my thumb with a pin, that’s all.” She pulled out her Free Comic Book Day pin. “Yeesh! It’s as sharp as a needle!”

  “There’s no bear?” asked Tony weakly, slumping against a tree with his hand over his heart.

  “No bear,” Petra repeated firmly.

  Tony let out his breath. “This day is way too tense, man.”

  But Petra was examining the pin in her hand.

  “Sharp as a needle…�
� she whispered to herself. She looked up at Tony. She stared at him thoughtfully.

  “What?” said Tony. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  Petra was grinning now. “Tony, don’t take this the wrong way—but I need your head.”

  “WHAT?! No way!” objected Tony, clamping both hands over his brush cut.

  “I only need to borrow it for a minute,” wheedled Petra, advancing on him.

  “Sorry, I don’t loan it out,” protested Tony, backing away. “I’m too attached to it. Literally!” He scrambled to hide behind Shawn.

  “Help me, Shawn, ol’ buddy,” he begged. “The girl’s gone batty. Bonkers. Bananas. She’s lost her mind and now she wants mine!”

  “Um, what are you doing, Petra?” asked Shawn, looking both confused and amused as his two best friends circled around and around him, like a cat after a mouse.

  “I need…to make…a compass!” Petra grunted, trying to catch Tony in a headlock.

  “Not out of me, you don’t!” Tony howled, ducking out from under her grasp.

  “How are you going to do that?” Shawn asked Petra curiously.

  “Don’t listen to the crazy girl!” protested Tony. “You might be next!”

  Petra grinned at Shawn. “What’s a compass made of?” she asked him.

  “Not my head!” Tony declared, skipping out of reach to hide behind Craig.

  “Uh… a needle that points north, I guess,” Shawn answered. “Magnetic north, that is,” he corrected himself.

  “Exactly!” crowed Petra. She pulled the Free Comic Book Day pin out of her pocket. As the boys watched, she snapped the straight pin off its tiny metal hinge and held it up. “Voila! Our needle!”

  Colin peered at the tiny pin pinched between Petra’s fingers.

  “I don’t get it—a needle isn’t a compass. How’s that supposed to show us where north is?”

  “Simple,” said Petra. “We turn it into an electromagnet.”

  “Oh, sure—simple,” repeated Tony, rolling his eyes at Craig and twirling his finger in circles around his ear.

  “It is simple,” Petra insisted. “Haven’t you ever played with balloons at a birthday party?”