Pamela Hearon – Out of the Depths (страница 5)

A crease formed on Rick’s forehead. “You’re going spelunking? By yourself?”

“Not spelunking.” Kyndal kept her voice light. “No crawling around through narrow passages. Just going through some rooms near the entrance and taking a few shots.”

A car turned into the reserve and headed toward the security gate.

“Well, I know caves, and they can be dangerous. You be careful,” he said.

She nodded and waved a quick goodbye as she pulled away. Jaci would be thrilled!

Pleasant daydreams of Rick occupied her mind through the drive to the northern exit of The Trace. It wasn’t until she crossed Kentucky Dam to the western shore of Kentucky Lake that she realized she didn’t know exactly where she was going.

She was relatively sure she could hike to the cave through the woods from the nearby boat ramp, the way Chance had taken her the first time. She still remembered her awe at the size of the cave. A network of small caverns connected by narrow passageways, some so low, crawling was the only way through. She’d felt as if she was roaming through a gigantic block of Swiss cheese. They’d gone back a second time, taking a road that dead-ended close to the mouth of the cave.

Try as she might, she couldn’t get her brain to remember enough details to know where that turnoff would be. She’d have to take her chances with the hike through the woods.

When she pulled into the parking lot for the boat ramp, littered with trucks pulling trailers, her heart crawled into her throat.

This cove had been Chance’s favorite fishing hole, and he always swore someday he’d own the piece of property flanking the southern rim. They’d spent so many days out on Kentucky Lake in his little rowboat—fishing, picnicking, occasionally sneaking one of his dad’s beers into the cooler, making out on the beach. Fishing became her favorite sport that summer although she never picked up a pole.

During one of Chance’s fishing trips without her, he’d found the cave. His plan had been to show it to Hank, but he never got the opportunity.

Kyndal took in the small cove, surrounded on three sides by the reds and oranges of fall foliage and the dark blue of the lake beyond. She breathed a deep, contented sigh. Some things in her life had changed greatly over the past nine years, but this site hadn’t changed one bit.

With that assurance, she armed herself with her camera bag and backpack and headed through the woods. Her heart pumped fast. She loved being outdoors on a mission, a world of possibilities before her.

Dew still clung to the leaves underfoot, and she made the passage almost in silence. Even if she hadn’t been able to see the lake as she climbed the hill toward the gray limestone bluff, she would’ve known it was there. Mist lay low in places where the sun hadn’t yet reached, and a pungent fishy odor hung in the air.

She’d often heard people complain about the stench. Not her. To her, it smelled like home. The lakes. The rivers. Any time she was in Paducah, she drove to the foot of Broadway below the flood wall for a glimpse of the Ohio and Tennessee Rivers that converged there. If she was down or feeling low, she only needed that sight to feel soothed. As long as the rivers were still there, everything would be okay.

The thought put a spring in her step as she mounted the steep incline to the bluff. Coming to the cave this morning was the right thing to do. She could feel it. She would get her photos and get this job. The date with Rick was a sign.

Kyndal crossed the ridge to the plateau that held the entrance to the cave and stopped dead in her tracks, reading the large signs posted to nearby trees. No Trespassing! Violators Will Be Prosecuted.

Evidently Mr. Turner, the old codger, was still around. Should she try to find his house and get permission?

She didn’t remember seeing a house anywhere in the vicinity. Even if she found it, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t turn down her request.

The only chance she had at this job was photographs of a cave.

She edged toward the entrance, half expecting an alarm to trigger, yet feeling pretty certain that fear was absurd. Who ever heard of an alarm on a cave?

She checked the trees for surveillance cameras. Unless they were hidden in squirrel or bird nests, she was unobserved.

She stepped closer. It wasn’t as if she was going to hurt anything. She was there out of appreciation for the beauty, not to mar it in any way. Freedom of the press should bring nature’s delights to everyone, not just those who could afford to be landowners.

Her indignation pushed her to the mouth of the cave. She could feel the cool dampness of its interior as she leaned her head inside.

She looked at her watch. Twelve after eight. Forty-five minutes would get her all the shots she wanted. She’d be in, out and gone.

Allowing no further debate of the matter, she made her way to the edge of the meager sunlight. She turned the flashlight on and moved through an open crevice from the first cavern into an adjacent one.

Nothing looked familiar, but the primordial green, earthy scent catapulted her back in time. Closing her eyes, she could almost hear echoes of the sobs and sighs and cries of ecstasy she and Chance had left behind nine years ago.

A surge of warmth rushed through her despite the chilly surroundings and a sentimental breath caught in her throat. She scanned the area with her flashlight. So many openings, all probably leading to other rooms. No time for nostalgia.

“Today will bring the perfect shot that will make me somebody.” Her voice slid around the smooth bowl of the cavern and returned to her.

She ducked through an opening into another area, not sure what she was looking for but confident she would know it when she saw it.

Before moving another step, she pulled the masking tape from her backpack and hung a strip from the opening she’d passed through. The afternoon in the cave with Chance taught her more than lessons in life. If he hadn’t unwound a ball of twine to follow back, they might still be here. She chuckled, remembering how pleased he was that Mrs. Cooper’s mythology class had rendered information worth remembering.

Several caverns later, she found what she was looking for. A natural column of sandstone in the middle of the room gave it an interesting feel. She arranged the portable lights from her backpack on each side, in precisely the right spots for dramatic shadows, and clicked away.

When she adjusted one of the lights, her foot knocked it over. As it fell, a brilliant spark of light reflected from the opposite wall. She picked up the lamp and moved it about, tracing the trajectory it took as it fell. There it was again! The light glinted from a horizontal crack in the wall roughly fifteen inches tall, maybe two or three feet wide. The crevice narrowed and turned down at each end, causing her to shudder. It looked like a frown in the face of the wall.

She walked over to examine it more closely. The hole had formed a couple of feet above her head, but even her limited view brought a gasp. The ceiling on the other side appeared to be solid quartz, glittering like millions of diamonds.

The pounding of her heartbeat thudded in her ears. The shot from this angle through the gap was intriguing but from inside that next cavern, aiming up directly at it… She could barely breathe at the thought.

The crevice was large enough to fit through, but reaching it was the problem. Her fingers just bent at the opening if she stretched. Augh! Why did she have to be so short?

She walked around the area, tracing the wall with the beam from her flashlight. The light showed no other way to reach the other side, so she returned to the crack with new determination.

If she jumped, she could get her palms flat onto the facing of the hole. Her arms were strong from lugging around equipment, but the wall was so smooth, she couldn’t get any purchase with her boot. After four or five tries, she noticed a bit of scraping left from her feet, though.

She jumped again, trying to suspend herself long enough to batter the soft wall. It worked. Her toe sank in a tad, enough to give her leverage to move an arm deeper through the opening.

Her arms burned and threatened to rip out of their sockets, but she held on and heaved, scrabbling her toes against the wall for any hold she might find.

The rim of the hole was only five or six inches thick, and her fingers soon clasped the inner side. Giving a scream that could have landed her a role in a horror film, she hauled her torso onto the ledge, balancing precariously like a human teeter-totter.

She eased the flashlight out of her pocket and focused the beam into the small room. Her position didn’t allow much air into her lungs, and what little was there rushed out at the sight that met her eyes. She’d been wrong. The ceiling wasn’t the focal point. The entire room was floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall crystals.

The room reminded her of the geodes she’d gathered at the LBL’s Geology Station as a kid. On the outside, they looked like lumpy dirt clods, but inside, they were solid crystal. This one was big enough to hold her rather than the other way around.