Kalahari Page 10

  “Did it follow you here?” asked Joey.

  “It’s coming.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Let’s go.”

  I began walking, not looking back to see if they were following. I felt as if my brain were a balloon floating above me, tugged along by my body but disconnected from the present. Nothing made sense anymore: Theo dead, Dad missing and possibly also dead, and now a lion of pure silver tracking us through the bush. It had the nonsensical quality of a dream.

  “Sarah.”

  The voice floated around me, and though I heard it, it didn’t register.

  “Sarah!”

  I stopped and turned, still feeling strangely detached. Sam was pointing behind us, his face solemn.

  “It’s coming,” he said. “It’s far behind us, but if you watch, you’ll see the sun reflect off it.”

  I cursed and looked around for a tree or something to climb. There was a copse of Terminalia ahead on the top of a small rise.

  “Come on,” I said, breaking into a jog.

  “It sees us!” shouted Avani. “It’s running now!”

  My heart pounding, I burst into a sprint, the others drawing even with me. I looked back, brushing aside my hair, and saw the lion skimming toward us, reflections of light and sky streaking over its metallic form.

  “Faster!” I yelled, knowing it was useless if we didn’t reach the trees before the lion reached us. I’d seen it take down the ostrich in a second. Would it go for all of us, or would it settle for just one? I glanced around and saw that Avani was the slowest. I reached out a hand and she took it, and I pulled her along.

  “Thanks,” she gasped.

  Suddenly Joey, who was in the lead, cried out and skidded to a halt, his arms pinwheeling. “Stop!” he yelled. He spun around and threw out an arm to shove Miranda to the ground, and Kase toppled over her, both of them shouting in anger at Joey.

  I stumbled and stopped, dropping Avani’s hand. Sam fell to his knees beside me, bent over and panting.

  “What is it?” he gasped out.

  I didn’t reply; I was too stunned by what I saw.

  It was a crack in the ground, a long, narrow chasm that split the earth like buckled cement. It didn’t seem very deep—maybe four feet at most, and it was filled with sand.

  “Is it supposed to be like that?” asked Miranda.

  “No.” What was going on out here? First the lion—now this random split in the earth’s crust?

  “Then what—”

  “Just run!” said Sam. “It’s almost here!”

  I whirled to see the lion bounding toward us, and at any other time I could have stared in wonder at the beauty of the metal creature, but now was definitely not that time. I jumped across the crack and landed in a crouch on the other side—only to feel the ground beneath me shudder. What the—?

  “Wait!” I yelled, throwing up a hand, but it was too late. Everyone jumped across the crack and landed beside me—and the ground shuddered again.

  “You guys feel that?” asked Joey.

  Then the sand slid around my ankles, poured into the chasm. I stood up slowly, my arms spread for balance. It felt like an earthquake.

  I turned to see the lion crouched on the other side of the chasm, all silver and light, and then it leaped straight for me. I yelled and fumbled with the shotgun, knowing it was already too late—and then the earth vanished beneath me, collapsing as if we’d been standing on top of an aardvark’s tunnel, only much, much bigger.

  We fell into the widening chasm, sand pouring around us like white rain. The lion sailed overhead and landed on the ground on the far side; I caught just a brief glimpse of it as I dropped like Alice down the rabbit hole.

  Screams echoed around me, but I was silent, the air frozen in my lungs from sheer disbelief. The sky shrank to a strip of blue and then, totally unexpectedly, I slammed into deep water.

  Stunned and disoriented, I sank into dark depths, seeing stars and bubbles rise around me. Then I began to kick out, pushing for the surface. The sounds of the others’ screams had cut off, interrupted by loud splashes. I hoped desperately that they could all swim. Despite my furiously kicking legs, I found myself sinking, pulled down by the weight of my pack. I wriggled it off my shoulders and let it go; it disappeared into the dark murky water along with my mom’s shotgun, which I’d lost when I hit the water. Freed of the backpack, I was able to swim.

  When I broke the surface, I gasped and looked up. We’d fallen probably fifty feet into a huge underground reservoir of freshwater. The sides of the narrow chasm pitched upward at a slant; the opening above was much smaller than the space below. This had been a hidden cavern for centuries, perhaps millennia, and I was certain that it would have taken more than just the weight of six teenagers to crack its roof.

  The lion’s face hovered over the edge, and I wondered for a moment if it would jump down. But then it lifted and turned, and I saw one flick of the silver tail as it walked away.

  One by one, the heads of the rest of the group popped out of the water. I counted, my heart stopping when I reached only four.

  “Where’s Avani?”

  Everyone was coughing and spitting out water, but they immediately began looking around. Sam dove under, as did Joey. I turned in a circle, treading water that sparkled in the sunlight. Undulating patterns reflected off the delicate calcite deposits above us.

  “Avani?” I called. “Avani!” Our voices echoed eerily off the cavern walls as we called for her.

  Suddenly Joey’s head lifted out of the water. “I’ve got her!”

  He had Avani in his arms, and she gasped and sputtered, her eyes shut. “I think she’s okay,” he said. “Just stunned. Hey, Canada? You okay?”

  Avani’s eyes shot open into huge circles, and she clung to Joey so tightly that he nearly went under.

  “I can’t breathe!” she screamed. “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!” She half sobbed, half choked, and clawed desperately at Joey like a cat climbing a tree. He spluttered and struggled to keep them both afloat. In two strokes, Sam reached them and helped support Avani from the other side.

  “Avani, calm down!” he said. “Look at me! Meet my eyes.”

  She was trembling so violently that she seemed to have trouble focusing on him.

  “Panic attack,” said Kase grimly. “My sister gets them sometimes.”

  “I c-c-can’t breathe,” Avani stammered to Sam.

  “Yes, you can,” said Sam calmly. “You’re breathing right now. Listen. In, and out. In, and out.”

  I treaded water, at a loss, as Sam coached Avani, his voice low and soothing, the way I would talk to a frightened, wounded animal. My skills ended at practical survival techniques. When it came to dealing with people, I was as comfortable as a fish on dry land. I watched with no small amount of awe as he successfully calmed Avani. Her eyes had fixed on his with single-minded attention, and she soon settled down.

  “We’re going to be okay,” said Sam. “We’re going to get out of here. But we need your help. We need the Avani who always has the answers, okay?”

  Avani nodded and drew a shuddering breath.

  “Maybe you can tell us what all this water’s doing down here, huh? I thought this was a desert.”

  “Semidesert,” said Avani, her voice weak. “The Kalahari is sitting on top of a vast underground water system; you could drill almost anywhere here and find it.”

  Sam smiled and turned to me. “I think she’ll be fine.”

  It’s sort of cruel, really—so much water placed just out of reach in a land that is almost completely dry. This cavern had to be linked to the massive cave systems that begin in Namibia, many of which are still unexplored. I once went with my mom to the Dragon’s Breath Cave, which releases humid air that makes it look as if some subterranean monster b
elow is exhaling. We’d rappelled down walls as steep as these to look at the white, blind catfish teeming in the lake.

  I’d known that in theory, these underground lakes existed, but they’d been unreachable except through the boreholes and wells scattered throughout the region. The question wasn’t how this place existed, but rather how had we found it? What had weakened the crust of earth above, making it give way at our weight?

  And even more important—how were we going to get out?

  I think the others had reached the same question, because their eyes were round and terrified, just as mine were, I was sure.

  “Sarah?” Sam said softly, his voice still filled with the faux hopefulness that had calmed Avani.

  I gave him what I hoped was a steady, confident look. “It’s okay. We can get out of this. We just have to . . .” What? Climb? Impossible. The walls of the cavern bent over us at such an angle that we’d have to climb nearly upside down. We were in no condition for that; even an experienced mountain climber would shirk at the sight.

  “Swim around,” I said. “Spread out and look for a way out. But be careful. Conserve your energy. No unnecessary movement, got it? Sam, keep Avani with you.”

  He nodded.

  “Well, hey,” said Joey, grinning, “at least we’ve got plenty of water now.” To illustrate, he scooped up a mouthful and swallowed it with apparent relish.

  I tried to smile in return, to keep the mood hopeful, but my lips betrayed me. The water did taste wonderful, though, and I swallowed several mouthfuls, feeling instant relief as it poured through me. Then I turned away and began swimming toward the shadows at the edge of the cavern. I kept my darkest fear to myself: that in the middle of one of the world’s largest deserts, we could very well drown.

  TEN

  The cold water left my legs and hands numb, and the sound of my chattering teeth echoed off the cavern walls. I’d explored a good portion of the cave’s perimeter, finding no places where we could climb out, and I didn’t even come close to finding the bottom. From what I knew of underground lakes like this one, the bottom could be three hundred feet deep or more. The thought was even more chilling than the temperature.

  My arms and legs ached as I stroked back to the place we’d fallen through. How much longer could I do this? I was in better shape than everyone else, so I knew they had to be struggling.

  As if drawn by one mind, the others moved to meet me beneath the circle of sunlight. I turned my face toward the light, feeling its warmth. Sam was there, Avani beside him still looking dazed and terrified, and Joey quickly joined us.

  “Where are Kase and Miranda?” I asked.

  “Probably making out,” said Joey.

  “No, really—where are they?” My heart leaped in panic. Had we lost them? Had they drowned already?

  “Kase!” I called. “Miranda!”

  But for the rippling water and my own echoes, silence.

  “Spread out,” I said wearily. “Search for them.”

  Everyone’s faces displayed the one thought we dared not speak aloud: that Kase and Miranda had sunk beneath the surface. I don’t think any of us was ready to accept that answer, though, because it could only mean that we each had a timer hanging over our heads, and that our seconds were almost up.

  We made it just a few yards away from one another when I heard a shout.

  “Over here!”

  The voice was fragile and distorted, but I pinpointed its location and waved to the others. Together we swam toward it, leaving the light behind.

  “Kase,” said Sam. “That way.”

  “Hurry, guys!” Kase said, his voice growing stronger as we neared.

  He and Miranda were treading water, only the whites of their eyes visible in the gloom.

  “We found something,” said Miranda, sounding exhausted. “This way.”

  My heart lifting despite my better judgment, I followed them as they swam deeper into the darkness.

  “What is it?” asked Avani. “God, let it be a ladder.”

  “Close,” said Kase. “Maybe close enough.”

  I didn’t know they’d stopped until I bumped into Kase, and then I felt Joey bump into me.

  “Reach out,” said Kase, taking my hand and lifting it into the dark.

  My fingers brushed metal and instinctively closed around it: it was a beam of some kind, cold and smooth. I heard the others murmur as they felt it.

  “It goes up,” I said. I explored with my hands, utterly blind. The beams were arranged like a scaffold, about three feet wide and enclosing a pipe about as thick as my torso.

  “An old borehole, maybe,” I said, though I was doubtful. The metal should feel rusty or corroded by the minerals in the water, shouldn’t it? This didn’t seem old, not by the texture of it, and its construction was different. But I wasn’t about to question it—any way out would do.

  “We might as well climb it,” I said. “See where it goes.”

  “I can’t!” It was Avani’s voice that rang out in the darkness, and I could hear the panic creeping back into her breathing. “It’s too dark, and the water . . . please, let’s find another way out!”

  I heard a few noises of exasperation from the others. Avani’s breathing was punctuated by tiny whimpers, and I feared she was close to a full-on panic attack.

  “I don’t think we’re going to find a better option,” I said. “You can do this, Avani.”

  “But—”

  “You can do it, Avani. We’ll all climb together. Just—”

  “I can’t! I can’t!”

  “Please, Avani!” Despite my efforts, my tone was sharpening as my frustration eroded my patience. “Would you just—”

  “We’re going to drown!” Avani wailed.

  “Oh, for God’s sake!” Miranda snapped. “If I can do it, anyone can! Start climbing or I swear I’ll drown you myself!”

  “Hey!” Sam’s voice reverberated off the walls. “Look, it’s not that bad. We’ll go slowly and stay close together. Avani, here—take my hand. Got it? Good. I’ll be right here, every step, okay?”

  “O-okay,” Avani replied softly.

  “Breathe, remember? In-two-three-four, out-two-three four.”

  I took the lead, leaving Avani in Sam’s care once more. Using nothing but my sense of touch to guide me, I clambered up the metal bars and bit down on my tongue to keep my teeth from grinding together. Splashes and grunts echoed around me as the others fumbled with the bars, trying to climb in utter darkness.

  “It’s easier if you close your eyes,” said Kase. “Feel the way.”

  “You do this often?” asked Avani, her voice tight. I could tell that even with Sam beside her, she was barely keeping a lid on the hysterics.

  “We spent some time spelunking in Mexico two years ago,” he said.

  “Oh.” I could hear the surprise in her voice, and maybe even a little respect.

  We climbed in silence then, using all our energy to scale the configuration of metal beams. About twenty feet up, the cave walls began to loom in on us, and we had to wriggle through the beams and climb inside the scaffold, our backs pressed against the pipe. I could feel the pressure of the narrow space closing in on me like a vise, and I had to remind myself to breathe. Below me, I heard a muffled curse followed by a splash.

  “Everyone okay?” I called down.

  “My camera!” Kase called, his tone high with panic. “It was slung over my shoulder, but it just dropped!”

  “Keep climbing, dude,” said Joey. “It’s gone.”

  “I have to go back down!” said Kase.

  His declaration was met with a chorus of protests.

  “We’re all below you!” Avani growled. “My arms are shaking as it is! I’m not climbing all the way back down for your stupid camera.”

  “Guys,” I said levelly, try
ing to keep them cool. This was not an ideal time to panic, but the tension of the tight space and the absolute darkness was like a corrosive acid, eating away at our spirits. “We have to keep climbing, Kase. I’m sorry.”

  Besides a low snarl of frustration, he stayed silent.

  We climbed for what seemed an eternity. I’d worked out the pattern of the beams and was moving more quickly now, one limb at a time, reminding myself not to rush. To fall at this point would be deadly, and I’d take out whoever was below me in the process.

  Eventually my head struck what felt like concrete, and I yelped.

  “What happened?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Don’t fall on my head!”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I found the top. I think it’s some kind of cover. Hang on.”

  Bracing my feet on the slippery beams, I ran my hands along the concrete overhead, then caught my breath when they touched a metal hatch. I found a handle and gripped it tight.

  “Here goes,” I said. “Cross your fingers.”

  With all my strength, I pushed upward. My arms were shaking and my feet began to slip, and I cried out and let go to grab the beams before I lost my footing.

  “Someone else will have to help,” I said.

  “I’m here,” said Kase.

  I felt his hand groping the darkness, and I grabbed it and placed it on the metal cover.

  “Got it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “One, two, three.”

  We pushed up until I thought my head would explode from the effort—and then, with a groan of its hinges, the lid began to lift. Light shot through the cracks and I nearly fell again when it blinded me, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself to hang on.

  It swung open with a crash, and I looked down to see the rest of the group groaning and blinking against the assault of sunlight.

  I climbed up and offered a hand to Kase, and together we hauled everyone else out of the hole. I couldn’t even see the lake below, it was so far, only an inky depth.

  Once everyone was out, I looked around.

  We were sitting on a concrete box built around the top of the pipe, which had made a turn just below the hatch and ran into a large pump set on metal rails over the ground.