White Cave Escape Read online

  “Um, I vote for high and dry,” said Tony. “Anyway, the higher tunnel is closer to the cave mouth. Maybe the rush of water and debris knocked Shawn in there when he jumped.”

  “It’s possible, I guess,” said Petra. She didn’t like the look of the low, wet hole any better than Tony. “We’ll take the higher tunnel,” she decided. “If we hit a dead end, then we’ll come back and try the lower tunnel.”

  Alone in the smothering darkness, Shawn blinked frantically, willing himself to see something, anything. He strained his eyes, trying to penetrate the solid, black shroud that had dropped over him.

  But there was nothing.

  The darkness pressed down on him like a weight, leaving him breathless. Panic swarmed and swirled inside his skull. Shawn took three deep breaths, forcing himself to breathe slowly.

  It’s like being lost in space, Shawn thought. Immediately, he was grateful for the sensation of the hard, wet boulder digging uncomfortably into his body. He pressed his hands against the rock’s rough surface. It was proof that something existed in this cold, black vacuum—something solid, something real. Shawn was gripped by the sudden, irrational fear that if he let go of the rock, he might get sucked into the blackness and go orbiting away like an insignificant satellite.

  Breathe, Shawn told himself. Just breathe. You have four other senses—use them!

  Sliding forward on his boulder, Shawn felt for, and found, the edge of the rock. He lowered his feet cautiously and landed in a shallow puddle on a wet slab of rock. Holding his hands out in front of him, Shawn took a step forward. Then another. But on the third step, his foot found only emptiness. He flung his arms out but there was no wall to catch him and he pitched forward into space.

  Shawn landed in water.

  It closed briefly over his head before he came up again, spluttering and choking. He thrashed wildly, his heart constricted in terror. He’d had enough of water. More than enough. Then he touched bottom and realized he could stand. Shawn staggered to his feet and stood, shaking and gasping in ice-cold water that wasn’t quite waist deep.

  His fall, and his brief but panicked struggle with the water, had disoriented him. He was no longer sure which way he was facing. Where had he been standing when he fell? Where was the edge of this underground pool? How big was it? Shawn stretched out his arms as far as they would reach. His exploring fingers touched only water.

  Figures, he thought. He rotated his body a few degrees and reached out his hands once again. More water. Where was the bank of this underground lake? He turned slowly in a full circle, his palms skimming the surface of the strange, black pool. His fingers met nothing but water.

  He squinted again, straining to pierce the darkness, but that was hopeless. The blackness was impenetrable. He shuffled forward a step, feeling the water sloshing around his thighs. He walked farther. And stopped, uncertain. Surely he hadn’t fallen that far from the bank. And was it just his imagination, or was the water getting deeper? He took another step.

  It was definitely getting deeper.

  He must be heading towards the middle of the lake. Shawn stopped and began wading in a new direction. He kept his hands stretched out in front of him, expecting to touch a stone wall that would signal the end of the water. But his fingers found nothing. This must be a bigger cavern than he had realized.

  Shawn stopped again. For all he knew, he could be walking parallel to the water’s edge, just out of reach of the bank. He hesitated, then turned, angling in yet another direction. No, that wasn’t right—the water was getting deeper again.

  And it was paralyzingly cold.

  He began to shiver.

  “Petra!” he called. “Craig!” But the water and the surrounding stone swallowed the sound, smothering the words as soon as they left his mouth.

  If only I could see! Shawn thought, and he slapped the water in frustration. The splash echoed in the darkness. And suddenly Shawn knew what to do.

  Ducking under the water, Shawn ran his hands along the bottom, searching with his fingers. His hands closed on what he was looking for—a fist-sized rock. He stood back up, gasping with the cold. He tossed the rock out in front of him, a gentle, underhand throw. There was a gulping plop as the rock hit water.

  “Okay, no dry land that way,” muttered Shawn. He bobbed back down under the water and grabbed another rock. He shifted direction and again tossed a stone out into the darkness.

  Splash!

  He snatched up two more rocks. He let one fly.

  Ker-splash!

  Shawn rotated his body again. Holding his breath, he threw the last rock.

  Thunk!

  He had hit land! Shawn lunged towards the sound, splashing wildly through the water. He charged forward until he cracked his shin hard against a rocky ledge—and then he was hauling himself out of the water, shuddering with cold and relief.

  Shawn crawled slowly across the shelf of rough, wet rock, feeling his way in the utter darkness. Water dripped from an unseen ceiling. Behind him the invisible lake gurgled sullenly against its stony banks. His exploring fingers met a wall. Running his hands along it, Shawn found an opening…the same tight tunnel in which he had almost drowned. It was emptied of water now…except for a glacial stream only a couple of inches deep. Probably the same spring we drank from outside, Shawn thought, in sudden surprise. Already the heat and light of the stone valley seemed a distant memory here in the damp, cold darkness. Shawn knelt, shivering and trembling at the tunnel’s mouth. Running his fingers around the edge of the opening, he assessed its size. To fit inside, he would have to lie down on his belly in the stream and crawl forward on his elbows, sandwiched once again between water and stone. Claustrophobia closed around his heart like a vice. I can’t do it, he thought.

  “You know what’s weird?” said Tony.

  “What?” sighed Petra.

  “For a White Cave, this place is pretty black.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Colin admitted.

  “It would look white if there was a bit more light down here to reflect off the rock,” Petra said. “This whole place is made out of gypsum.”

  Craig climbed the sloping cave wall and peered again into the small opening he had found near the ceiling.

  “We’re going to need a light if we want to go this way,” he said, leaning into the hole. He slid back down the rocky incline to where the others were waiting. “It’s pitch black in there. We’re not going to be able to see a thing.”

  Petra turned and scrambled towards the cave mouth. “Come on, Tony,” she ordered. “It’s time to make a torch.”

  chapter

  21

  The Bat Cave

  Scraping away dirt and rock with their fingernails, Tony and Petra finally managed to pull a thick branch loose from the debris plugging the cave mouth. Dragging it back to the others, Petra quickly stripped it of leaves and twigs.

  “I need some cloth,” she said.

  With a sharp yank, Colin pulled off one of the sleeves from his plaid shirt and handed it to Petra.

  “It’s a bit damp,” he said, “but not too bad.”

  Petra nodded and began winding the fabric around the top of the branch. Pulling her long ponytail loose, she used the hair elastic to secure the cloth in place. She looked at Colin expectantly.

  “Matches?” she asked, holding out her hand.

  Wordlessly, Colin dug into his front shirt pocket and pulled out a book of matches.

  “How did you know he’d have matches?” demanded Tony.

  “Nobody carries a pack of cigarettes without carrying something to light them with,” said Petra shortly. “And Colin had cigarettes at the quarry.”

  “They’re not mine. I don’t smoke. I swiped them from my stepdad,” Colin muttered. “The guys told me to make sure to bring them some smokes.”

  “And look how well that turned out,” said Tony darkly.

  Petra sighed. “Well, we have matches and a torch, but we still need fuel. Otherwise the cloth w
ill just burn right up and go out.”

  “You mean like kerosene or barbecue starter?” Craig asked. Petra nodded.

  “We used gasoline last time,” said Tony, remembering their dark and uncomfortable voyage on the Chocolate River. “Hey! The gas in Colin’s ATV! We could use that!”

  “You mean the ATV that’s out in the middle of the forest and probably burned to a crisp by now?” asked Colin.

  “Oh. Right.”

  Petra was digging through her pockets. She pulled out her tube of lip balm and looked at it, thoughtful.

  “You look fine,” Tony told her. “Is this really the time to worry about makeup?”

  “It’s not makeup,” Petra huffed. “It’s moisturizer. But I think it might also be the fuel we’re looking for.”

  “Huh?” said the boys.

  “Listen to these ingredients.” Petra read aloud from the side of the tube: “Wax, cetyl alcohol, paraffin, mineral oil, camphor, petroleum.”

  “Ew—you put that stuff on your lips?” Craig whistled and shook his head. “I will never understand girls.”

  “This stuff’s for boys, too, you know,” Petra told him.

  “Not this boy!”

  Petra pulled the cap off the tube and began smearing the lip balm over the cloth at the end of the torch.

  “That’s it,” she said when the entire tube was empty. “Light it up.”

  Colin struck a match and held it to the wax-coated cloth. It hissed, spluttered, then flared with a whoosh! Petra held the torch aloft. It lit the cavern with a weird, flickering glow.

  “Let’s get moving,” said Colin, starting toward the tunnel.

  “Wait!” cried Craig suddenly. The others stopped and looked at him. “What if Shawn’s not down this tunnel?” he said. “What if he comes looking for us and we’re already gone?”

  Petra stooped, and with her free hand, picked up a chunk of gypsum. Using the gypsum, she drew a large, white arrow on a slab of grey shale. Under the arrow, she wrote their initials: P, T, C & C.

  “There,” she said. “If Shawn comes this way, he’ll know where we’ve gone.”

  Climbing up to the tunnel, she wormed her way carefully inside. The others followed.

  The tunnel was tight. They wriggled forward on their hands and knees. The rocky walls of the narrow passage rubbed against their sides, scraping knees and elbows. More than once they bumped their heads on the low, uneven ceiling. The torch flickered dimly, casting crazy, leering shadows. In its light, white gypsum gleamed through the walls like bones in an ancient crypt. As they wormed their way around a tight corner, the tunnel suddenly widened.

  “Hang on,” said Petra. A jumble of boulders was lying across their path. At the top of the heap, two huge slabs of stone had toppled inwards, and stood leaning against each other.

  Petra climbed up the rock pile. She ducked through the triangular opening beneath the two leaning rocks and vanished from sight. The others waited in the dark. The only sound was their breathing, echoing off the cold, damp walls. After a long moment, Petra’s head reappeared again above the rock pile. “We can get through this way,” she called. “Just watch your step once you come through—there’s a bit of a drop.”

  The boys scrambled through the boulders and joined Petra on the other side.

  “It seems like the tunnel gets wider here,” she said, poking the torch into the shadowy gloom ahead.

  “Our voices sound different, too,” observed Craig. “More echoey or something.”

  “Hello hello!” Tony called into the looming darkness.

  “Helloooo—helloooo—helloooooooo…” the echoes moaned back in ghostly voices.

  “Tony! Cut that out!” hissed Petra.

  “Why?” giggled Tony. “Who’s gonna hear?”

  “We don’t want to disturb anything,” said Petra, edging forward into the deeper dark.

  “Disturb what? The rocks?” scoffed Tony. “Hey, rocks! Am I disturbing ya?” he called.

  “Ya-ya-ya…” taunted the darkness.

  “Knock it off, Tony,” whispered Craig, nervously. “What if you wake something up?”

  “Wake up what?” Tony demanded. “These caves are empty.” He looked at Petra. “Right?”

  Petra didn’t say anything. She was peering ahead into the darkness.

  “Right?” Tony persisted.

  “Sure, Tony,” said Petra, sarcastically. “I come down here every day just to make sure these caves are kept clean and critter-free, just for you. Now be quiet!” She moved carefully forward.

  “Critters?” gulped Tony. “Nobody said anything about critters.”

  Petra shrugged. “Lots of animals take shelter in caves, Tony.”

  “Oh, man.” Tony scuttled closer to her, looking nervously over his shoulder.

  Petra edged her way around a rock column, slid down a tilted slab of rock, held up her torch and…

  “Whoa!” breathed all four kids.

  The flame’s spluttering light illuminated the high, uneven walls of a huge cavern.

  But the homemade torch wasn’t nearly bright enough to dispel all the shadows. Darkness pooled in the corners and hung like a curtain from the ceiling. The floor was a giant jigsaw puzzle of stone slabs, and it sloped sharply upward towards the earthy roof at the far end of the cavern.

  Petra moved towards the centre of the cavern, stepping over a crack in the floor.

  “Shawn?” she called tentatively, holding out the torch.

  No answer.

  Craig’s shoulders sagged. “He’s not here.” His voice ached with disappointment. Standing there in that cold and cavernous space, Craig suddenly looked very young.

  Petra moved swiftly over to him and laid an arm across his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Craig. I’m sure Shawn’s fine. He’s probably just looking for us, too.” She tried to smile, but her own dismay welled up suddenly in her throat.

  “I think I know where we are,” said Colin, coming up behind them. “I’ve heard people talk about this place. We’re in the Bat Cave.”

  “I don’t see any Batmobile,” said Tony, picking his way carefully across the uneven floor.

  Colin shook his head. “Does this feel like a comic book to you, kid? I’m talking about real bats. Hundreds of ’em. They hibernate in here during the winter.”

  Petra glanced up at the shadows lurking near the roof. “Are they here now?” she whispered.

  “I doubt it. They would have moved off into the forest for the summer.”

  There was a brief silence as they remembered what state the forest was in.

  “Hey, I found something.” Tony had been running his hands along one side of the cave. A crack opened up into a small niche off the main cavern. “There’s something in here,” said Tony, feeling around. He pulled out a handful of small, hard, round objects. “Hey! Look! Nuts!” He held them out to show the others. “Squirrels must have stashed them in here. There’s tons of them! At least we won’t starve.” He opened his mouth.

  “Tony, wait!” said Petra. She picked up one of the small objects and looked at it closely in the light of the torch. “Uh, I don’t think you want to eat that.”

  “Huh? Why not?” asked Tony. “I like nuts.”

  “This isn’t a nut.”

  “Sure it is,” argued Tony. “It’s round. It’s hard. What else would it be?”

  “Porcupine scat,” said Petra, tossing the pellet back into the niche. She sniffed at the opening and wrinkled her nose. “I think you just found their indoor toilet.”

  “Gah!” Tony dropped his handful of pellets like a hot potato. “You mean I was about to eat porcupine poo?”

  “I guess bats aren’t the only critters who like to hang out in here,” Craig commented as Tony went hopping away across the cavern, wiping his hands frantically on his shirt.

  “Ew! Blah! Porcupine germs! I’m covered with porcupine germs!”

  “Relax, Tony. I think you’ll live,” giggled Petra.

  “Oh, man,” moaned
Tony. “This has been SUCH an uncool day.”

  Colin, meanwhile, was examining the far section of the cave, where floor and ceiling came together. Petra made her way up the sloping floor to where Colin was prying among the rocks under the roof of the cave. Tony followed, still muttering under his breath about the hygiene habits of porcupines. Petra knelt beside Colin, holding up the torch to chase away some of the shadows.

  “Any sign of a way out?” Petra asked. But Colin shook his head.

  “It seems pretty solid, except—”

  Just then Craig pushed past Tony and tugged at Petra’s sleeve.

  “Hey,” he whispered in an anxious voice. “I heard something moving behind those rocks over there.” He pointed back down the cavern towards a shadowy corner not far from where they had entered the Bat Cave. They all turned toward the inky darkness at the bottom of the cave.

  “You probably just thought you heard something,” said Tony. But Craig shook his head vigorously.

  “You’re sure you heard something?” Petra asked in a low voice. Craig nodded.

  Petra raised the torch and moved slowly down the tilted stone floor. The boys followed, cautious. When she was halfway across the cavern, she stopped and held out the torch. Its feeble light didn’t penetrate the black shadows lurking behind the rubble of rocks and boulders at the bottom of the cave.

  There was a rattle of small stones.

  “Shawn? Is that you?” Petra called out in a small voice. She took a step closer.

  There was another rattle of rocks, followed by a short, choking cough.

  “Sh-Shawn?” Petra stabbed the torch in the direction of the darkest shadow. Something was moving down there. There was a rustling…the sound of something shifting, turning, and then:

  Two red eyes flashed open, glowing with demonic brightness in the torchlight.

  chapter

  22

  What’s Big and Black and Shaggy All Over?