Third Grave Dead Ahead - Page 72/88

He studied me a long moment, then asked, “What are you?”

“I’m a grim reaper–type thing. But in a good way.”

“Whatever you say, ma’am.” He tipped his hat again and went around. In a matter of seconds, he drifted back through with his report. “Looks like she has a broken leg. She tried to splint it, but it looks bad.”

“Damn. I’d be surprised if she doesn’t have gangrene by now.” I scanned the area for anything I might use to aid in my rather inadequate rescue attempt. His light helped, but the only thing available was dirt. And rocks. “Do you think I can make it through?” I asked him. “I need to get her out. I don’t know how long that ceiling is going to hold.”

“I think you better try, then, ma’am.” He glanced around the cave. “Maybe you could brace that beam against it?”

“I’d probably just knock more loose.”

“There is that.”

I started digging again. “How’s the other side look?”

“The ceiling is solid.” He disappeared and reappeared again. “The beams on that side are sturdy.”

Teresa was so weak. I could barely feel her now. Rocket said to hurry when he’d popped into Misery two days prior, and hurry I would. I scraped and dug until the opening was big enough for me to get through. With phone in hand, I crawled on my stomach over the jagged rocks. Dirt fell from the ceiling continuously, so my hair was pretty much a solid ball of muck.

Garrett would’ve come in handy about now. I shouldn’t have ditched him. Or tossed his phone into a pond.

As I scaled the mountain of debris, I reached down for Teresa’s hand. She moaned and tried to squeeze back.

“Hey, hon. I’ve got help coming, but we need to get you out of here if that is at all possible.”

She squinted against the light coming from the phone, but it allowed me to check her pupils. They constricted perfectly. She had the same coloring as her brother and sister, dark hair and startlingly blue eyes. She was thin and pale, but that could be the circumstances as much as heredity.

I pushed through the opening and climbed over the top of her to turn around. After sliding down the incline, Hardy appeared behind me and cast his light toward a backpack that had apparently been full of supplies, water, basic medical aids, as well as a caving helmet and spelunking gear. She’d splinted her leg with the aluminum brace from the backpack and a rope. Smart girl. Apparently, she’d been exploring when the ceiling gave.

Now I was really confused. Dr. Yost was guilty—I’d felt it—but of what? Sabotaging the mine? And if he did that, then what the heck was Teresa so guilty of?

“Have you thrown up, Teresa?”

She shook her head. “No concussion,” she said, her voice hoarse and whispery. She could barely lift her head. “Just a broken leg.”

I felt her skin. Warm, but not overly so. Hopefully, the flow of blood to her foot hadn’t been blocked and she didn’t have gangrene.

“I don’t know how much longer that ceiling is going to hold. Do you think you can make it through with my help?”

She nodded.

“I have more help on the way. We can wait.”

“No, I just couldn’t get through the opening alone. It wasn’t big enough. How did you find me? Did my husband tell you where to look?” Just the thought of being rescued seemed to be giving her strength. I could feel adrenaline coursing through her veins, raising her heartbeat.

“I heard you,” I said, lying as I combed through her backpack. “You have one more bottle of water.” I took it and climbed back up to her.

“I was saving it.”

“For a special occasion?” I asked, popping the seal on the cap. “I could shake it up and spray it all over you, if that would be more festive.”

A thin smile spread across her face as she took a sip, then handed it back to me.

“Did your husband know you were here?”

She tried to shrug but gave up. “I explore this area all the time, but I didn’t tell him I was checking out the mine again. I come here pretty often, though.”

“So, he wasn’t here with you at any time?”

She squinted her eyes, trying to figure out what I was getting at, then shook her head. “No. I left early Saturday morning, before he got up.”

Then someone had to have done something to sabotage the mine before Teresa got here or while she was deep inside. But what? Those beams hadn’t been cut. It literally looked like they’d slipped and shifted somehow.

Hardy knelt beside me, a grim expression on his face as though he knew exactly what I was trying to figure out. “She did it,” he said, shaking his head.

Startled, I furrowed my brows in a question.

He nodded. “Loosened the beams herself.” His gaze drifted about the walls. “Been working on it awhile now.”

My heart fell. “Why?” I whispered.

With a shrug, he said, “Not quite sure, ma’am. But I don’t think she was planning on being here when it gave.”

I took a deep breath and forced the questions from my mind. “Are you ready, hon?” I asked Teresa.

“I think so.”

“We’ll take this slow.” With infinite care, I wrapped one of her arms around my neck and hiked her farther up the incline. The miner did the same for me, boosting me inch by inch. After about two minutes of work, we were only about a foot farther. “Okay, not that slow.”

She laughed softly, then grabbed her side.

“Are they broken?” I asked, gesturing toward her ribs with a nod.

“No, just bruised, I think.”

With a little more effort, we were able to get her to the opening and scoot her through it. But Teresa paid a heavy price. She groaned through gritted teeth as she slid to the other side. Well, not the other side. Jagged rocks scraped and skinned along the way.

“Your friend’s coming back,” Hardy said.

Without hesitation, I chanced another cave-in and yelled through the opening. “Cookie, stay back!”

“What? No. What about the supplies?”

“I’ve almost got Teresa through the opening, but the ceiling is crumbling as we speak.” As I looked out, I saw the beam of a flashlight bouncing off the ground. “Cookie, what the heck?”

“Don’t what the heck me,” she said, her voice winded. “I didn’t walk all that way for nothing.”