White Cave Escape Read online

  “But are you up for that?” asked Tony, jerking his thumb at the cliff rising above them.

  “There’s a path,” said Craig, pulling at Shawn’s sleeve and pointing. “There. See?”

  Shawn ran his eyes over the rugged rock wall and finally spotted what Craig was optimistically calling a path. A narrow ledge of crumbling rock ran diagonally up the rock on a sharp incline.

  “It’s, um, pretty narrow,” said Shawn.

  “It’s wide enough for a sneaker,” argued Craig. “In most places.”

  “We should have rock-climbing gear, man,” said Tony, shaking his head. “You know, ropes and helmets and stuff. We’d be crazy to tackle a climb like that without proper equipment!”

  “We’ll be dead if we don’t,” said Shawn grimly. It was true. The fire was mowing its way across the grass towards them. Soon, very soon, this stone-walled valley would be a cauldron of fire. And the only way out was up.

  Pressing themselves flat against the cliff face, the five young people inched their way along the treacherous path. Rocks rolled away beneath their sneakers and went rattling and bouncing down into the valley below. Shawn was leading. Craig had argued, saying that since he saw the path, he should be the one to go first. But Shawn had vetoed this, pointing out that his longer arms and legs made it easier for him to feel out the safest route, checking for the best handholds and footholds. A brief headlock convinced Craig that Shawn was right, and he followed behind his big brother with only a minimal amount of grumbling. Petra came after Craig, with Colin behind her. Tony brought up the rear.

  The smoke wound itself around their necks and limbs as if it was trying to pluck them off the cliff. Shawn blinked his stinging eyes and reached for a tree root protruding from a crevice. He gave it a cautious tug. It held. He gripped it firmly, and pulled himself across yet another gap in the ledge.

  “There’s a break in the path there,” he called back to the others. “Use the tree root to help you get across.”

  Craig swung himself quickly across the gap, and edged along the ledge to where Shawn was waiting. Petra came next. She grabbed the tree root, but just as she shifted her weight to step over the gap, the tree root came loose, slithering out of the crevice like a snake. Petra flailed backwards over the yawning valley with a small, strangled shriek.

  “Petra!” cried Shawn. He lunged back towards her, knowing that she was impossibly out of reach. A hand snapped out and grabbed Petra’s arm, pulling her back against the cliff face.

  “You okay?” asked Colin.

  “Sure,” gasped Petra. She gave him a shaky smile. “Thanks, Colin. You saved me again. It’s a good thing you’re here.”

  Shawn gritted his teeth and looked away.

  “Don’t worry about it, bro,” Craig told him in a low voice. “You couldn’t know that the root would let go.”

  Shawn shook his head without looking at his brother. He didn’t trust himself to speak. It was his fault that Petra had almost fallen off the cliff. He should have tested that tree root more carefully. He was leading. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes. One misstep, one wrong decision, might cost his best friends their lives. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Shawn closed his eyes and pressed his sweaty forehead against the cool rock of the cliff.

  “Hey, kid—you all right?” It was Colin’s voice. “You want me to take over? I could lead for a while.”

  Shawn shook his head fiercely. “I’m fine.” He forced himself to look at the precarious route ahead.

  “Shawn?” Behind him, Petra’s voice was anxious.

  “It’s okay,” he croaked. “Follow me. We’re almost there.”

  “Shawn, buddy—I don’t want to rush you or anything,” called Tony from the back of the line, “but we should probably pick up the pace, or that fire’s going to beat us to the top of the cliff!”

  Shawn looked around and realized with a sinking feeling that Tony was right. The fire had spread out from the mouth of the valley in both directions, following the treeline up the steep, rocky ridge and onto the clifftops encircling the valley. Soon the two lines of fire would meet, closing the circle at the top of the back cliff wall that they were now scaling.

  “Climb!” cried Shawn. “Everybody, climb for your life!”

  They did.

  There didn’t waste breath on talking. They climbed as fast as they dared, grabbing at rocks and roots, ignoring scraped knuckles and knees, hugging the white wall of the cliff. Small rivers of dirt and gravel, knocked loose by their scrabbling feet, showered down into the valley below.

  “Almost there,” grunted Shawn.

  The top of the cliff jutted out in a pouting lip. It was a hairy lip, too—shaggy with fine, spidery tree roots and lichen that dangled beneath the earthy outcropping like a crazy moustache. Shawn pulled himself up beneath the overhang. To reach the top, he would have to swing himself out, away from the cliff, then up and over the underside of the ledge.

  Craig eyed Shawn’s chosen route nervously.

  “How are you going to get up there, Shawn?”

  “I’ll manage. You wait there until I can help you up.”

  “Shawn,” called Petra worriedly, “I think we should try to get up someplace else.”

  “We don’t have time,” Shawn said. “Once I’m up, I’ll be able to pull you guys over the top.”

  “Be careful, kid,” said Colin.

  “Good luck, pal,” gulped Tony. “Try to think like Spider-Man!”

  Shawn reached up and grabbed two fistfuls of the tree roots hanging down around his ears from the roof of the overhang. Wrapping them once tightly around his hands, he yanked hard. The roots held firm. Gripping the roots, Shawn pulled his knees in to his chest and kicked his feet up hard, so that they were braced on the underside of the ledge.

  “Just like the rings in gymnastics,” he grunted.

  “Way to go, Spidey!” cheered Tony from somewhere below.

  Shawn inched forward. He felt like a beetle crawling along the ceiling. At the edge of the overhang, he threw his right arm up and over the top ledge, his fingers scrambling to find something, anything, that would bear his weight. He knocked a rock loose. It fell past his head and went bouncing down the cliff.

  Shawn felt around blindly. Aha! An old tree root, thick and gnarly, met his exploring fingers. The root was pressed tight into the earth. Shawn scraped at the dirt with his fingernails until he could worm his whole hand underneath the root. It pinched his hand against the ground, but at least he would be unlikely to lose his grip.

  Under the overhang, Shawn was now forced to let go of the tree-root moustache with his left hand. He flung his left arm out and up as fast as he could, trying to get two hands on the gnarled root above him before gravity kicked in.

  An impossible move.

  With no way to brace his feet, Shawn fell, dangling by one arm as his body went swinging out over the valley like a pendulum.

  Dimly, Shawn heard the cries and shouts of his friends, but the sound seemed to come from a great distance. Pain shot up his arm. His hand was pinned under the tree root like a vice, while his body hung from it, twisting helplessly in space. He could feel his shoulder starting to part from its socket.

  His brain clouded over with pain and terror. It was hopeless from the beginning, he now realized. Nobody could survive this. We’re all going to—

  “SHAWN!” Colin’s voice roared, cutting through his panicked thoughts. “Are you going to hang around like a Christmas ornament all day or do you want me to come up there and hold your hand? GET UP ON THAT LEDGE RIGHT NOW!”

  Anger jolted through Shawn like an electric shock. He kicked his legs furiously and managed to touch the cliff wall with the tips of his sneakers. It was all he needed. Pushing off with his toes, Shawn launched himself upward. His fingernails caught the edge of the ledge. Every muscle in his body was screaming as he hauled himself up, inch by painful inch, and then suddenly—he was over the top! He lay still for a moment, trying to breathe through
the red-hot pain in his shoulder and hand.

  “Shawn?” Petra called. “Are you okay?”

  Shawn started to get up, and then fell back—he was still anchored to the ground by the tree root. Gingerly, he worked his fingers loose and pulled his hand free of the root’s life-saving grip. His fingers were a rosy purple. There was a black bruise running across his palm, and his knuckles were starting to swell to an impressive size. Wincing, he wiggled his fingers carefully. They hurt, but at least he could move them.

  “Shawn?” It was Craig’s voice now.

  Shawn poked his head over the cliff and looked down. Dizziness washed over him as he realized just how high they had climbed. His friends and his little brother still clung to the wall like ants.

  “I’m okay,” he said, stretching his good arm down over the ledge towards them. “Come on up and take my hand. I’ll pull you over the tricky bit.”

  chapter

  16

  Race for the White Caves

  “Wow. That was extreme,” wheezed Tony.

  They were all sprawled, panting, on the clifftop. Once Shawn had hauled Craig over the ledge, the two brothers had worked together to pull the other three to safety.

  “We should get extra phys. ed. credit for that,” added Tony. Below them, the valley was engulfed in flames.

  There was no time to rest. On either side, lines of fire were closing in on them. The five young people staggered to their feet and sprinted through the smoke-filled forest. Spot fires were now springing up all around them, spawned by the countless sparks that swirled like sinister seed pods through the toxic air.

  A trail appeared in front of them. As one, they swung onto it. Then Colin yelled and pointed to a piece of red-painted tin nailed to a crooked pine tree.

  “It’s a trail marker! I recognize this spot! I know where we are,” Colin said excitedly as he ran to the tree. “The White Caves should be just on the other side of that gully!” Colin pointed across a tree-filled ravine to their right.

  At that second, there was a loud WHOOSH!

  Behind them, an expansive beech tree exploded into flames. Immediately, the trees on either side of the great beech ignited into twin fireballs. Like mutating meteors, the fireballs leapt from treetop to treetop.

  “Crown fire!” yelled Petra, staring in horror at the approaching inferno.

  “RUN!” shouted all the kids together. They dove into the ravine, skidding and sliding on its shifting carpet of dead leaves and pine needles.

  “We’re never going to reach the caves in time,” moaned Petra.

  “There must be something we can do!” panted Shawn as he vaulted over a dead log. “What does your Uncle Daryl say? How do you survive a forest fire?”

  “You don’t,” Petra answered through clenched teeth. “You avoid a forest fire…you don’t survive it.”

  Petra shook her head as she stumbled after him. “We tried, Shawn. We tried harder than anything. You tried harder than anything, but…” A single tear slid down her sooty cheek. “Nobody can outrun a fire like this. Nobody can survive—that.” She gestured hopelessly at the approaching firestorm. She smiled sideways at him and gave a sad little shrug of her shoulder. “It’s game over. I guess you can’t win ’em all.”

  Shawn’s throat tightened painfully. In spite of the danger, he stopped short and spun Petra around to face him. His serious grey eyes held her frightened green ones. “Listen,” he said. “Maybe we can’t win them all, but we’re going to win this one. Do you hear me? Because there is no way I am losing you or Craig or Tony or even…” Shawn winced just a little. “Or even Colin, today. Understand?”

  “What about Hobie?” said Petra in a choked voice.

  “He’ll turn up,” said Shawn. “I know he will.”

  “Guys!” Tony was galloping back towards them. “What are you doing just standing around? This is no time to hold a committee meeting!” They turned with him and fled up the other side of the ravine.

  “Come on, come on!” urged Colin and Craig from the top of the slope. In a moment, Shawn, Petra, and Tony had reached them, and the five were scrambling along the narrow, rocky footpath that dipped and twisted along the top of the ravine.

  Soot and ash were swirling everywhere. Glowing embers whizzed past them like white-hot shrapnel.

  It was unbearably hot.

  “Now I know how a chocolate-chip cookie feels when you put it in the oven!” gasped Tony.

  “How far now?” gasped Shawn.

  “Almost there!” wheezed Colin. “Keep going!”

  “Wait!” Tony suddenly called over the roar of the fire. “What’s that noise?”

  “That’s the sound of the forest exploding,” Petra told him. “Now, come on!”

  “No!” Tony insisted. “That other noise!”

  Over the din of the crackling flames, a droning whine could just be heard. And it was getting louder.

  “I know that sound!” said Tony. “That’s a—a—”

  “Plane!” yelled Craig.

  chapter

  17

  The Scooper

  The drone of the plane’s engine grew louder.

  “Where is it? Do you see it?” cried Tony, craning his neck to see through the branches and the roiling smoke.

  “There it is!” cried Petra.

  “Where? Where?”

  “There!” She pointed. High above the branches, the yellow belly of an aircraft could just be glimpsed, scudding in and out between the heavy clouds of smoke.

  Tony started doing jumping jacks, waving his arms crazily. “We’re here! We’re down here! Hey! Search-and-rescue guys! We’re over here!” he hollered at the top of his voice. Shawn grabbed Tony’s arm, pulling his bouncing friend back to earth.

  “They can’t hear you, Tony. They can’t even see us under all this brush.”

  “Uh, guys?” said Craig, peering hard at the plane.

  “Quick!” Tony said frantically. “We have to signal them and let them know where we are!”

  “Guys—” said Craig, a little louder.

  “I know!” said Tony, feverishly snatching up some branches from the side of the trail. “We can build a torch!”

  The others stared at him.

  Tony looked from the little sticks clutched in his hand to the towering trunks of flaming trees. He dropped the sticks. “Okay. Maybe a torch isn’t the best way to get their attention right now.”

  “GUYS!” yelled Craig.

  The others spun around in surprise.

  “That is NOT a search-and-rescue plane,” said Craig.

  “How do you know?” retorted Tony.

  “Trust me, he knows,” said Shawn. “Craig’s a walking encyclopedia of airplane facts ever since we went up in that helicopter last winter.”

  “Who cares what kind of plane it is as long as it rescues us?” said Tony. He turned and waved his arms at the sky. “Yoo-hoo, whatever-kind-of-plane-you-are! Come and get us!”

  “Tony!” said Craig again, clutching at his arm. “We have to get out of here!”

  “Well, duh,” said Tony crossly. “Why do you think I’m trying to flag down a plane?”

  Craig threw another wide-eyed look at the oncoming aircraft. “No, Tony, you don’t understand. That’s a Canadair CL-215!”

  Tony looked at Shawn. “What’d he say?”

  Shawn shook his head. “No idea.”

  “A Scooper!” spluttered Craig. “It’s a Scooper!”

  “Is he speaking English?” Tony wanted to know, as Craig hopped up and down with impatience, trying to pull them off the trail.

  “Craig,” Petra said, putting a hand on his arm. “Calm down. What’s a Scooper?”

  “A water bomber,” gasped Craig. “That’s a water bomber coming towards us!”

  “Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” said Tony, a relieved grin spreading across his face. “We get saved from a fiery death and get a cool, refreshing shower all at once. Excellent!”

  Crai
g groaned. “Tony! Do you know how much water the Canadair CL-215 carries?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” said Tony.

  “It can scoop up over five thousand litres of water from a lake in a single pass in just ten seconds. That’s why they call it the Scooper.”

  “Cool!” said Tony. “This is going to be just like Splash Mountain!” He opened his arms wide, lifted his face skyward, and closed his eyes. “I’m ready!” he called. “Drench me!”

  “TONY!” said Craig.

  “What?” said Tony.

  “Do you even know how much five thousand litres of water weighs?”

  “Um…” said Tony.

  “Ten thousand pounds,” said Craig.

  “That’s, um, about five tons,” said Petra, calculating. Her eyes widened. “Uh-oh.”

  The drone of the approaching plane became a roar.

  “Did you say five tons?” Tony gulped.

  The hulking yellow body of the Scooper burst out of the swirling clouds and smoke.

  “Run!” yelled Shawn.

  They whirled and bolted through the trees.

  “Go away!” yelled Tony, flapping his hands at the oncoming plane as if it were an angry hornet. “Shoo! Get back! There are kids down here, you know!”

  But the plane continued barrelling along its flight path, oblivious to their presence. It zoomed towards them, dropping lower and lower. The noise of its engines rose to a deafening thunder.

  “This way!” shouted Colin, scrambling up a lumpy hill full of moss-covered boulders.

  There was a roar.

  But it wasn’t from the plane’s engines.

  This was a different sort of roar.

  A Niagara Falls sort of roar.

  An avalanche of white water—nearly five tons of it—crashed down into the gully, just to the side of them.

  Tree trunks snapped like toothpicks and were swept down into the ravine in a landslide of mud, boulders, and water. A cloud of white vapour hissed angrily into the air.

  “Whoaaaa!!” yelled the kids, gaping at the huge, muddy trench that the water had gouged out of the hillside.

  “Holy cranky catfish, that was close!” gasped Tony.