The Ocean Dark

82

Voss had spent months trying to put together a case against Gabe Rio. Now she followed him through a tangle of tropical vegetation with no path or trail except what he had in his memory, and somehow they had become allies. Massive palm fronds rustled in the breeze above them. Gabe paused to look around and then spotted a place where a pair of trees leaned together like some grand archway. He seemed to recognize this as a landmark and adjusted course to go under the arch.

She didn’t ask if he knew where he was going. Just talking to him fed an anger that she needed to extinguish if they were going to make it through the day. For the second time, she had to fight the temptation to give Josh up for dead, and battling that pessimistic whisper took all her strength. She didn’t have the energy for spite. Besides, Gabe Rio had never been her real target. He was just a victim of Viscaya’s schemes.

On the other hand, if he hadn’t committed those crimes, she wouldn’t ever have come here. And Josh wouldn’t be trapped down in the dark with those things.

Voss picked up her pace. David Boudreau and Lieutenant Stone hurried along behind her with — how many sailors were there, three? Not enough, she felt sure. But how many would have been? They were either going to find Josh, David’s grandmother, and the others, or they weren’t. In the end, how many people went down into the island’s womb didn’t matter as much as how many came back up.

Sunlight came through the trees at enough of an angle to remind her that the afternoon wore on as the sun slid inexorably toward the western horizon. In several places they passed depressions in the ground where the vegetation grew even thicker and greener, and volcanic steam lay upon the ground like mist. Sweat beaded on her forehead and arms and the back of her neck, and trickled between her breasts and down the small of her back. Voss used the hem of her tank top to wipe her forehead and kept up her pace, slogging after Gabe.

The massive hill at the center of the island — it wasn’t really big enough for her to think of it as a mountain — rose up in front of them, but there were smaller ridges and formations all around it. In between two of those, Gabe Rio stopped short, looking around to get his bearings.

“You better know where the fuck you’re going,” Voss said as she halted at his side. They had landed on the shore precisely where he had indicated, flying over the still-burning wreckage of the graveyard of derelict ships just offshore.

“We’re fine,” he replied. “But I’m going in the way we came out yesterday, so I’m trying to reverse course in my head. It’s this way.”

He started off again, cutting to the right at an angle that would take them around one of the lower hills. Over the eons since the volcano had erupted, local flora had grown wild all across those hills, but in places the black rock thrust up from the ground in jagged edges.

Voss could only follow, and because of that, she couldn’t help hating Gabe a little. The thought brought her back to the argument she had had with Turcotte right before boarding the helicopter that had taken her out to the island. Despite the way he had abdicated all responsibility in the Viscaya case — abandoned any interest, regardless of how hard he had once fought to take the case away from her — he had been very unhappy with the idea of taking Gabe Rio away from the Kodiak, and out of his custody.

“You’re treating him like a human being. Like he’s part of the team, instead of the bastard who put us here!” Turcotte had shouted at her, his words hacked apart by the roar of the helicopter’s rotors, out there on the deck of the Coast Guard ship.

The irony had sickened Voss. “What the fuck do you care? You gave up on this case! And if he’s our shot at getting my partner and the others out of there alive, I’m taking it.”

“And if I order you to stay here?” Turcotte had sneered.

The memory made Voss sniff in disgust. At that moment, though, she had laughed at him, told him if he wanted to pull rank as the agent in charge, he should be the first one on the chopper, heading out to save his man in the field. Turcotte hadn’t even had the sense to be ashamed of himself, but it didn’t matter. With Alena missing, David Boudreau held rank over them all, and he had approved bringing Gabe Rio along.

“Fine,” Turcotte had said. “Go and die. I tried to stop you.”

The words, like a slap in the face, would stay with her the rest of her life. However long that might be.

She rounded the bottom of the hill, ducked underneath low-hanging branches, and looked up to see that Gabe had come to a sudden halt. And then she saw why. Beyond him, the tangled brush thinned and opened into a natural clearing in front of a cave set into the steep hillside. A large rectangular plastic box sat just outside the cave, tilted on its side to reveal that it was empty. They had arrived.

“Looks like your people haven’t found this one yet,” Gabe said, glancing back at her.

Then David passed her, and she knew Gabe had not been speaking to her. David strode right up to the cave opening, ignoring the box. He paused to examine the entrance to the cave, then turned to Stone.

“Lieutenant, get on the radio and get someone over here immediately to set charges. I don’t want to think about how many other caves they’ve missed.”

Stone narrowed his eyes. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Dr. Boudreau. The teams are being methodical, sweeping every square foot of the island. They didn’t miss this cave. They just haven’t gotten to it yet.”

“They’re going to run out of time.”

“They’ll do the job, Doctor,” Stone insisted. “Drawing them away from their sweep patterns just to focus on this one cave—”

“No, no,” David said, waving a hand. “I understand. Forget I said it.”

He looked at Gabe, and Voss wondered if the young scientist would ask the guy to confirm that this was the cave where he had heard the water. How there could be any doubt, she had no idea. The plastic crate had obviously contained guns that had been consolidated into other containers or carried away. Now that she looked, she saw signs of footfalls and disturbance everywhere in the clearing, not to mention empty ammunition boxes just inside the mouth of the cave and splashes of blood on the rocks in one place.

But it turned out David had a different question.

“Are you coming in with us, Captain Rio, or are you staying topside?”

Gabe didn’t hesitate. “I’m with you, Doctor. I owe Tori that.”

Voss stared. She had seen the way Gabe had reacted to the news of Tori Austin’s situation, so it had not surprised her when he had agreed to lead them to the cave. But she had not expected him to descend with them, to risk himself.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.

Gabe, David, and Stone all looked at her, so that Voss felt like she had to defend herself; her, the FBI agent, defending herself when Gabe Rio had smuggled drugs and guns.

“If things get ugly down there, I want to know I’m surrounded by people I can rely on,” she said, staring at Gabe. He surprised her again by not turning away, instead keeping his gaze fixed firmly on hers.

“What do you think, Agent Voss, that I’m going to try to murder you all and escape?” he asked. “You’ve obviously got a file you put together on me. Do you see murder anywhere in there? And even if you really believed I was capable of something like that, where would I run? And what would I gain? Dr. Boudreau here gave me my free pass before we left the Kodiak. I’m not going to prison, lady. I’m out here for Tori. I’m no hero, but I’m not stupid, either. I know I’ve done things in my life I need to make up for.”

David could have stepped in, then, and overruled her the way he had Turcotte. Even Lieutenant Stone could have offered an opinion. But both men waited to see what she would say, leaving it to her.

In reply, she unclipped the Maglite from her belt, shifted it to her left hand, and drew her gun. She glanced at David. “Fine, but he doesn’t get a gun.”

“Agreed,” David replied.

Gabe’s face went slack, but she did not think it was the lack of a weapon that had troubled him. With her objections removed, he had to face the prospect of descending into that cave without any protection but what Voss and the sailors could provide, and apparently that did not instill him with confidence.

Voss nodded her consent — though David did not need it — and started into the mouth of the cave, clicking her Maglite on. The flash beam wavered, but her gun hand did not.

“Hang on, Agent Voss,” Stone said. He turned to one of the sailors. “Mr. Crowley, lead the way.”

Wordlessly, the freckled Crowley hurried up to the cave, pulling out his own Maglite. He waited for Voss to step aside, and when she did so, he rushed through as though eager to explore the dark innards of the island. But she knew eagerness did not drive him. Duty did.

She didn’t wait for the rest of them, following Crowley in, and this time Stone didn’t try to call her back. She heard his voice, and those of David and the other sailors, as they entered behind her. They all carried small packs with water, some food rations, radios, and backup lights. Stone, Crowley, and the other two sailors had assault weapons in addition to their sidearms, while Voss and David carried only pistols. Manetti, a medic, had a med-kit so that he could provide emergency treatment, if needed, to the survivors of the grotto’s collapse.

The cave went back thirty feet or more, diminishing in size until it jogged left and descended sharply. Flashlight beams played across the stone walls, black rock alternately reflecting the light and seeming to swallow it. Voss could hear trickling water and a kind of shushing noise of it moving far below, the ebb and flow of a current somewhere down there.

“Watch your step, Agent Voss,” Crowley whispered.

She almost asked him why he wanted to keep his voice down, then felt stupid. Of course they should whisper. The sirens were probably in the lower tunnels, in the water, but they did not know enough about the creatures to truly predict their behavior. A chill went up her spine and she shone her flashlight beam at the ceiling above her, imagining one of the maggoty-white things stuck like a leech to the black rock, reaching for her, jaws wide.

But they were alone in here, at least for now.

With Crowley in the lead, they navigated through a narrow, low-ceilinged tunnel into an even narrower space that seemed more like a crevice or fissure. The slash in the volcanic rock went up vertically at least twenty feet until it became little more than a crack. Water dribbled down the walls, keeping them slick.

Voss aimed her Maglite down and saw that the crack went deeper as well.

“Have a look at this,” she said, crouching, and the others followed suit.

“There’s water down there,” David said, shining his own light beside hers.

Gabe peered over his shoulder and Crowley had backtracked to join them. The other sailors did not bother to look, shining their lights around, on guard for attack. The sight of them so vigilant gave Voss another chill, icy fingers dancing along her spine.

“Yeah,” Voss said. “See anything else?”

They had been walking along a ridge inside the fissure, and perhaps twenty-five feet below, their lights shone on shimmering water. Though the slash in the rock was narrow, it provided access to the water below, and to the rising tide.

“No,” David said, turning to her in alarm. “Did you?”

Voss stood up. “Not yet.”

They went faster after that, and kept quiet.