Rachelle McCalla - Survival Instinct

A slice of light pierced the empty room. Then the door shuddered shut behind them and they were left in utter darkness.

Abby leaned against Scott. His arms were bound behind him, but she felt him leaning counterweight against her, supporting her even as she supported him.

A weak voice cut through the gloom. “Scott? Honey, is that you?”

Shuffling noises sounded from the far corner of the room.

Scott straightened beside her. “Mom?”

“Oh, Scott, honey!”

Abby could see nothing, but she heard Marilyn coming closer, and then felt the impact of her body as she rushed to her son.

“Mom! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. I finally got those ropes off. Here, let me untie you.”

Scott continued to pepper his mother with questions. “How did you get here? How long have you been here?”

As Marilyn tugged at the fabric that bound her son, she explained, “Captain Sal came back last night. A storm had started to blow up, and I was nervous about what had become of you and Abby, and then out of nowhere, here comes the Helene. I had a horrible feeling something was up, but Mitch seemed to think Captain Sal had just gotten his times mixed up after all. He told me to get on the boat. I shouldn’t have listened, but with the weather getting bad, I thought I couldn’t possibly be worse off on the boat than standing out in the storm.” She shook her head, finally tugging Scott free with a grunt.

Scott gave his mother a long hug before he turned his attention to untying Abby.

“Are you sure we should untie ourselves? Won’t that make them angry?” Abby asked, concerned. She’d seen enough people shot-she knew Captain Sal’s threats weren’t empty.

“Oh, probably,” Marilyn chided, “but they’re angry enough as it is. They’ll just tie us up again anyway. In the meantime, it’s no fun stumbling around in the dark when you don’t have use of your hands.” Marilyn looked at Tracie warily. “Who’s this? Do we want to untie her?”

Scott explained Tracie’s role in the investigation. Abby noticed that he left out anything having to do with Mitch. She recalled his earlier insistence on avoiding upsetting his mother, and figured it was for the best, at this point.

While Scott tugged on the tight knot behind her, Abby’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness. She realized there was a very faint beam of light coming down through the solid rock of the ceiling-probably one of the natural fissures in the stone, much like the blowholes they’d witnessed aboveground. Though it stretched three feet long or more, it couldn’t have been more than eight inches wide at the broadest point.

Then Scott had her hands free and his arms back around his mother. For several minutes mother and son simply held each other. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked again.

“Just hungry, and more than a little spooked,” Marilyn confessed. “But they’ve been very careful not to injure me. Captain Sal insisted on that.”

At the mention of food, Abby dug through her pockets and pulled out the last peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the remains of the trail mix they’d shared on the boat ride over. Fortunately the thugs hadn’t confiscated them. “Here, Marilyn.” She pressed the food into her hands. “Do you like PB &J?”

“Love it,” Marilyn exclaimed. “But even if I didn’t, I’d eat it. You’re sure you don’t want to save this?”

“No, I’ve had my fill. Please,” Abby insisted. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she’d live to see another meal. Not if Captain Sal got his way. She pushed the thought away.

Marilyn made quick work of the sandwich, between bites questioning them about what had happened to them since they’d rowed away in the canoe the day before. Scott began the story, but before he reached the part with Mitch’s involvement, Tracie stopped him.

“I hate to interrupt, but those guys out there intend to kill us, and I don’t intend to die.”

Though she agreed, Abby couldn’t imagine what they could possibly do about it. “Yes. What do you think we should do?”

Tracie pointed to the crack in the ceiling. “I want to go for help.”

Abby looked at the narrow fissure and then looked at Tracie. Granted, the other woman was uncommonly slender. She’d have a better shot than Abby of fitting through the tiny space. “But that’s got to be fifteen feet high,” Abby protested. “We have no way of getting you up there.” She looked around the room, although as she’d already concluded, it was completely empty.

“Good idea,” Marilyn agreed. “What am I doing standing around eating? We’ve got to get you out of here.”

“But do you really think-” Abby began to protest when she felt Scott’s hand on her shoulder and he whispered in her ear. “Floss.”

Then he spoke in a louder, cheery voice, “Is there anything around here we could use to climb up there?”

It took a moment for Abby to figure out what Scott had meant by his ambiguous reference, especially since she didn’t have any more floss with her, and had left her purse on the utility boat. Then she recalled the discussion they’d had the day before about giving his mother a project to work on to keep her from becoming overly anxious. Though she feared their efforts would be futile, Abby realized doing something would be better than doing nothing, even if it didn’t get them anywhere.

“Well, son,” Marilyn began, “I’ve been in this little room for all of today and most of last night. The back and side walls are solid rock, and the front is cement around the door. I think I’ve explored every inch of it, and I can tell you there wasn’t a thing in here, not a loose rock, not a spare rope, not anything before you three arrived. But now that you’re here, we finally have something we can work with.”

“What’s that?” Scott asked, clearly as bewildered as Abby felt.

“Us!”

While Abby stared at her, dumbfounded, Marilyn explained her plan to make a human chain extending up toward the skylight. Though she felt skeptical their efforts would achieve anything more than bumps and bruises, and maybe broken limbs or concussions, when she recalled Captain Sal’s insistence that they not be injured, she smiled to herself. Yes, Marilyn’s plan sounded pretty crazy, but if injury was the worst that could happen, Abby was all for it.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Let’s do it.”

They agreed that if Abby stood on Scott’s shoulders, and Tracie stood on Abby’s shoulders, they should have enough height between the three of them to reach the gap in the ceiling. Fortunately, the fissure was close to the back wall of the cave. As Scott pointed out, he and Abby had successfully managed a similar human chain the day before at the shed. Adding one more person couldn’t be that difficult-could it?

Abby told herself it didn’t so much matter whether their plan was really as ridiculous as it sounded. They needed to do something, and she didn’t have any better suggestions. Besides, there was still some slim chance the crazy scheme could work. She’d seen more outrageous stunts at the circus.

Though Abby had taken several strength training classes at the Bayfield Recreation Center over the years, she wasn’t sure how well she’d manage supporting Tracie’s slight weight for any amount of time. Still she crouched down and allowed the other woman to step up onto her shoulders. With Tracie clutching at the rough wall for balance and Abby pushing against her knees as she stood, Scott hovered close behind, lending balance and a little extra lift. Slowly, Abby stood.

The tricky part, then, was for Abby to step up onto Scott’s shoulders so he could stand with the two of them wobbling ten feet above his head. They made several attempts. Most ended with Tracie sliding down the length of the wall, but when she fell backward and landed with a thump, Abby stretched her overworked leg muscles with a sigh. “I don’t think this is working.”