shapes move in the shadows up ahead.
He raised his flashlight and fluorescent markings glowed in the beam. It was one of them. “Hey!” he called, “is that you, Mike, Brick?”
No answer came. Only the backward-shuffling figure of…who was that? Nate edged forward, all the time holding his flashlight up, and then he saw the blonde hair and realized it was Michael. “Mike, what’s happened?” He remained hunched forward, his head bowed and still shuffling backward. Nate realized then that he was dragging something into the lake’s chamber.
Nate stood in confusion as Michael came closer. But as he drew nearer, he saw what Michael was dragging: Brick. A trail of dark blood followed behind.
Nate stepped closer, saw the ugly, wet cut on the side of Brick’s face. Half of his head was caved in and bone and hair were mixed together, matted with blood.
Nate’s legs were jelly and he ambled forward on his numb limbs. “Michael. Tell me what happened!” His voice breaking into a hysterical scream.
Michael dropped Brick’s legs to the ground and turned to face Nate. His eyes were wide and pale as if they had rolled all the way back in their sockets. A bloodied rock remained in his right hand and before Nate could understand, Michael rushed him, bringing the rock down hard against his skull.
* * *
Marcel and Carise were staring out of the windows, looking for the standing stones. Smith had taken the chopper up and over the tree line and was now reducing altitude and passing in a slow circle, all while systematically scanning the ground below with the aircraft’s powerful spotlight.
“There, that’s the kid’s truck,” Marcel said, recognizing it as previously belonging to Nate’s father. “Smith, go north from that road, we should see the standing stones in about five kilometers.”
“Roger that,” Smith said and brought the helicopter about, setting it north.
“So how did this cave come about?” Carise said. “I know that area well, there was never anything there before. I’d have seen it.”
Marcel shrugged. “I don’t know, Cari. Maybe there was some kind of earthquake or pressure that split the rock. If there was a cave system in there before, then the rock on the outside may have fallen across it some time ago. Perhaps now, something meteorological has happened and it’s opened up.”
“Can that happen? Earthquakes within a mountain?” She had to be honest with herself, it sounded sketchy, but then everything about this situation was.
Marcel didn’t answer, continued to stare out of the window. She wondered what he was thinking about. Whether she was up to the job? Maybe he’d missed her and he was thinking of the good old days…or maybe he was thinking about the baby he never got to hold.
She slumped back in her chair. It felt like there was a mountain between them, let alone in front of them. She wanted to say something, but it was all just too trivial. Better to focus on the job at hand.
They flew in silence until the five-pointed fangs of Dead Five’s Pass were visible under the spotlight.
“Okay, Smith, bring us down wherever it’s safe,” Marcel said.
“What about over there by the tent? That’s fairly flat ground and if I remember rightly, it’s mostly flat rock,” Carise said.
“Roger that, I’ll see how it is closer up. Hold on to your belts, we’re going down.”
* * *
“The temp seems to be dropping by the minute out here,” Marcel said, as he walked from the landed chopper and towards the tent, which blew every which way from the downdraft.
Carise checked her watch with the temp gauge. “Minus thirty,” she called out, “a bit below average.”
“There’s nothing here,” Marcel shouted over the chopper’s engines and blustering winds. The snow continued to fall, and they could just make out the standing stones, twenty meters into the blizzard.
Carise arrived at the stones first, and as she turned to check on Marcel behind her, she caught
He raised his flashlight and fluorescent markings glowed in the beam. It was one of them. “Hey!” he called, “is that you, Mike, Brick?”
No answer came. Only the backward-shuffling figure of…who was that? Nate edged forward, all the time holding his flashlight up, and then he saw the blonde hair and realized it was Michael. “Mike, what’s happened?” He remained hunched forward, his head bowed and still shuffling backward. Nate realized then that he was dragging something into the lake’s chamber.
Nate stood in confusion as Michael came closer. But as he drew nearer, he saw what Michael was dragging: Brick. A trail of dark blood followed behind.
Nate stepped closer, saw the ugly, wet cut on the side of Brick’s face. Half of his head was caved in and bone and hair were mixed together, matted with blood.
Nate’s legs were jelly and he ambled forward on his numb limbs. “Michael. Tell me what happened!” His voice breaking into a hysterical scream.
Michael dropped Brick’s legs to the ground and turned to face Nate. His eyes were wide and pale as if they had rolled all the way back in their sockets. A bloodied rock remained in his right hand and before Nate could understand, Michael rushed him, bringing the rock down hard against his skull.
* * *
Marcel and Carise were staring out of the windows, looking for the standing stones. Smith had taken the chopper up and over the tree line and was now reducing altitude and passing in a slow circle, all while systematically scanning the ground below with the aircraft’s powerful spotlight.
“There, that’s the kid’s truck,” Marcel said, recognizing it as previously belonging to Nate’s father. “Smith, go north from that road, we should see the standing stones in about five kilometers.”
“Roger that,” Smith said and brought the helicopter about, setting it north.
“So how did this cave come about?” Carise said. “I know that area well, there was never anything there before. I’d have seen it.”
Marcel shrugged. “I don’t know, Cari. Maybe there was some kind of earthquake or pressure that split the rock. If there was a cave system in there before, then the rock on the outside may have fallen across it some time ago. Perhaps now, something meteorological has happened and it’s opened up.”
“Can that happen? Earthquakes within a mountain?” She had to be honest with herself, it sounded sketchy, but then everything about this situation was.
Marcel didn’t answer, continued to stare out of the window. She wondered what he was thinking about. Whether she was up to the job? Maybe he’d missed her and he was thinking of the good old days…or maybe he was thinking about the baby he never got to hold.
She slumped back in her chair. It felt like there was a mountain between them, let alone in front of them. She wanted to say something, but it was all just too trivial. Better to focus on the job at hand.
They flew in silence until the five-pointed fangs of Dead Five’s Pass were visible under the spotlight.
“Okay, Smith, bring us down wherever it’s safe,” Marcel said.
“What about over there by the tent? That’s fairly flat ground and if I remember rightly, it’s mostly flat rock,” Carise said.
“Roger that, I’ll see how it is closer up. Hold on to your belts, we’re going down.”
* * *
“The temp seems to be dropping by the minute out here,” Marcel said, as he walked from the landed chopper and towards the tent, which blew every which way from the downdraft.
Carise checked her watch with the temp gauge. “Minus thirty,” she called out, “a bit below average.”
“There’s nothing here,” Marcel shouted over the chopper’s engines and blustering winds. The snow continued to fall, and they could just make out the standing stones, twenty meters into the blizzard.
Carise arrived at the stones first, and as she turned to check on Marcel behind her, she caught
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