Wired Ghost Page 9

  They dressed quickly. There was no way to treat Jake’s wounds, so dark patches of blood soon bloomed on his shirt and pants as the abrasions and cuts opened with movement. That Jake had determined not to show any response to his injuries attested to his steely constitution; he was undoubtedly still hurting from the beating the meth gang had given him, too. But she had to trust that he would let her know if anything really was a problem.

  Sophie slipped a smooth, warm pebble from the trough they had slept in into her pocket to remember when they’d made love and were truly together again. Now, if only they could escape alive . . .

  Sophie handed Jake the unlit torch, and held the flaming one aloft. “Grab my belt and let’s go.”

  Jake

  Sophie led the way down the tunnel. The space between the walls grew narrower. Lumpy extrusions of smooth, glassy lava reminded him of water frozen in motion. Intermittently, they encountered patches of rough, lightweight, aʻa lava, more like pumice. Scratchy and prickly, those areas were harder to navigate. At times they had to turn to the side, sucking in their bellies to squeeze between obstacles. Jake got caught between a carbuncle on one wall and a protrusion from the ceiling. “Whoa, babe.”

  Sophie turned and held the torch aloft. The buttons on Jake’s shirt flew off as he wriggled through the narrow opening. “It’s not only getting hotter, it’s getting tighter through here. I sure hope we find an exit point soon.”

  “Me too,” Sophie’s voice was calm, but he heard suppressed anxiety in it.

  They navigated through another narrow area and stumbled on.

  The dark tunnel seemed endless. Had they made the right call? Maybe they should turn back to where they at least had water . . .

  Sophie turned a corner, Jake close behind, and a chamber opened up before them. “Oh, this is good.” Sophie held the torch aloft, but there was already a narrow shaft of light piercing the endless black.

  Jake rested his hands on his hips and did a slow survey of the cavern.

  The floor was made up of concentric rings of glassy lava, and the ceiling arched above in a bubble-like dome. Fresh air made the torch sputter and bend. A slit of blue sky far above whispered of freedom. Jake walked forward slowly to stand beneath it.

  He wasn’t excited yet.

  His eyes scanned the room, but he could not see an exit.

  “I think this is the proverbial end of the line, Jake. A reference to when train tracks were first laid, crossing the United States,” Sophie said.

  “Extra bonus for knowing not only what the saying meant, but the derivation,” Jake said.

  She turned to him with a smile. “That’s a big word.”

  “I am not unfamiliar with big words.” He pinched her butt. “For instance, right now you’re obfuscating the semi-disaster that this chamber is as far as we can go.”

  “It might not be a disaster if we can get to that opening in the ceiling. It looks wide enough to slip through.”

  “Big enough for you, maybe.” Jake narrowed his eyes, gauging the distance. “I can tell my shoulders and chest are too wide. And how are we going to get up there?”

  “There must be a way. You look for that, while I check the perimeter and make sure there are no more exits.” She moved off with the torch.

  Jake frowned, staring up.

  The opening above looked to be about four feet deep, a crack in the bubble that had formed the ceiling of the cavern, covered by a layer of dirt. Ferns and grasses grew around its edges. The crack was probably hardly visible from the ground.

  He turned to examine the sides of the cave. The walls were uneven, laddered with stone ledges. Climbing up the sides wouldn’t be hard, but even if they reached the ceiling, they’d still be a long way from the actual opening with no way to cross the roof decorated with sharp knuckles of black stone.

  It would be a challenging climb, even with proper equipment, and they had nothing.

  He fought down a surge of fear.

  They were fine. They had a water source a way back, fresh air here. They’d be good here for days, if a little hungry and uncomfortable, until Bix was able to find them—as long as the lava didn’t find them first.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Connor

  The private jet from Chiang Mai landed at Hilo Airport at last. Connor had slept, worked out, eaten well and meditated for the duration of the flight, gathering and conserving his energy for the challenges ahead. As he’d directed, Bix had arranged for a helicopter to meet them along with an operative from Security Solutions, currently on the island to help with Sophie’s case.

  Connor descended from the jet, still wearing the white gi that was his uniform at the compound. The Security Solutions operative, an elegant blade of a man dressed in tactical gear, raised a brow at his attire, but stepped forward with his hand extended. “Pierre Raveaux. You must be Connor. Bix told me you could help us find Sophie and Jake.”

  “Good to meet you as well, Inspector Pierre Raveaux.” Connor had looked up the man’s résumé, and now he tested the strength in Raveaux’s cool, dry handshake. “I’ve read your contractor file. This is my right-hand man. His name is Nine; he speaks only Thai.”

  Raveaux’s dark brown eyes were assessing, but he imitated Nine’s reserved bow in his direction. “A pleasure.”

  “Did you gather the first aid supplies and personnel I requested through Bix?” Connor was already walking toward the sleek multipurpose chopper warming up on the tarmac within sight of their jet. “I assume a flight plan has been filed and all of that.”

  Raveaux strode to catch up with him. “There have been some problems. All air traffic over the eruption areas has been restricted by the National Guard and the United States Geological Survey. Heat, emissions, and unpredictable explosive events have made any form of viewing of the active lava unsafe at this time.”

  “We don’t care about viewing the freakin’ lava.” Connor snapped. “Tell me all systems are go.”

  “Bix took care of hiring the pilot. So far, Mr. Agno has told me he refuses to fly outside of designated areas. But he can get us fairly close to the kipuka where Sophie and Jake were abandoned. We may need to go further on foot.”

  Connor gave a brief nod. That wouldn’t be good enough, but he’d deal with that when they came to it.

  They reached the Bell Jet Ranger. The pilot was already inside, doing a preflight check. Connor opened the front passenger door and stepped into the craft to sit beside him, while Raveaux took a place with Nine behind them. Connor glanced into the back—the two rear seats had been removed to make a cargo area in the tail. Six canisters of oxygen with plastic masks were netted onto the walls, along with a couple of stretchers and a large first aid kit. He hoped like hell they didn’t have to use any of that.

  Connor greeted the pilot, extending a hand. “Thank you for helping us find and retrieve two of our most valuable personnel. I’m Connor.”

  “My name’s Felipe Agno.” The man’s eyes gleamed with intelligence and excitement. “I’ll certainly try, within the restrictions we’re under. This eruption is no joke.”

  Connor studied the pilot for a moment, reading the man’s electrical field as he checked the instruments. A strong blue, threaded with gray and yellow. Agno was stubborn and independent. Connor would have to find leverage to get him to go where they’d need to.

  Connor donned his helmet and five-point harness, adjusting his seat, as the blades began to whirl. After they completed a brief orientation to the comm units and confirmed their destination, the kipuka where Jake and Sophie had last checked in, the chopper rose smoothly into the air.

  Connor leaned over, pressing his forehead against the curved Plexiglas window to look below as they left the airport and flew toward the open lava area.

  The terrain was barren and rugged as they moved up in elevation, following Saddle Road, an old, well-established route that ran over the lava plains and connected the Big Island’s main cities of Hilo and Kona. The two-lane road snaked betw
een them, running between the twin cones of Mauna Loa and Kilauea. Kilauea was the volcano currently erupting, but Mauna Loa, a much higher peak at more than ten thousand feet, was also emitting alarming rumbles and shaking the ground with earthquakes. The United States Geological Survey had sent out alerts that activity might be imminent there as well.

  Connor drew his tablet out of the backpack resting between his feet and tapped on the screen, bringing it to life.

  The USGS satellite he’d hacked into zeroed in on the location of Sophie’s tracking device at his direction. Using his fingertips, Connor was able to zoom in. Nothing useful was visible—only a rugged black plain. Sophie’s signal had moved several thousand yards since his last check-in, and he frowned upon seeing that the relative volcanic safety of the kipuka itself had been left behind.

  She must now be somewhere out on the featureless landscape of the lava plain, where new lava might soon be flowing.

  Maybe he could spot them on foot . . . Connor continued using his fingertips to try to narrow the area of focus around the pulsing red beacon of Sophie’s GPS chip—but cursed as the picture fragmented into blocky pixels.

  The chopper bounced in an updraft, ruining the tracking further. Agno’s voice came over the comm. “I can’t go much farther. The USGS has designated this area a no-fly zone. Nothing’s visible on the ground yet, but there’s volcanic activity under the lava, and it could burst out from any weak point in the crust and nail us.”

  Connor frowned, tapping the screen to get the GPS coordinates of the beacon to display. “I need you to fly here.” He showed the pilot the tablet. “Set your directional program to take us there.” He tried to get eye contact with the pilot, to use his voice to command the man as the Master did.

  Agno shook his head and kept his eyes on the landscape ahead. “No. I told you when I took this job that I wasn’t allowed to fly in any hot spot areas.”

  “Nine!” Connor growled in Thai. “This man needs to take us to where we want to go.”

  Nine, seated directly behind the pilot, already had the slender blade he kept on his person ready for action. He applied the tip to the vulnerable nape of the man’s neck revealed by the edge of the helmet. Agno yelped, “You can’t kill me. You need me to fly this bird. Hijacking is a felony!”

  “Nine doesn’t have to kill you to make you wish you were dead,” Connor said with a humorless smile.

  Connor readied himself to disable the Frenchman if he interfered, but Raveaux looked on impassively. There was no sign of surprise or resistance in Raveaux’s relaxed but alert posture. His electrical field was a steady green. Clearly, he’d been prepared for the possibility that things would go this way.

  Nine applied some pressure; the knife pierced the skin. The pilot winced, his knuckles showing white on the steering collective. “If we get busted, it’s all on you.” He fed the coordinates Connor showed him into the flight computer.

  The helicopter took a new heading, arrowing across featureless lava that probably hid acres of magma activity. Connor stroked the surface of the tablet with his thumb, brushing the pulsing red beacon. “We’ll be there soon,” he whispered. “Hold on a little longer.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Jake

  Sophie returned from her circuit around the chamber, her mouth tight with anxiety. “No exits from this room. Not so much as a crack.”

  “Except directly overhead. Really wish we still had a phone. The ceiling is thin enough here that we might be able to get a signal out.” Jake tipped his head back to eye the seductive sliver of blue above them.

  “We’re in a good position here. It’s going to be okay.” Sophie seemed confident, in spite of the stress. She wedged the torch into a notch in the wall.

  Did she know something he didn’t?

  “Soph.” Jake took hold of Sophie’s shoulders, turned her to face him. She was five inches shorter, so those pretty brown eyes were level with his chin, but she refused to look at him. “You got something up your sleeve?”

  Sophie frowned, glanced at her arms. Her knit shirt was now laddered with runs and rips. “My sleeves are too tight to conceal anything.”

  “Figure of speech.” He caught her eye. “We have no phones. We’re potentially miles from where we went into the tunnel, which is where searchers will go looking for us. How are you so sure that we’ll be rescued here?”

  “I didn’t want to tell you in case you read more into it than there is.” Sophie looked down at her feet. Her shoulders slumped under his hands. “Connor monitors me. With a chip. He will find us here with little difficulty since the ceiling is thin. I need to get as close to the opening as possible, and stay there, so the signal is strong.”

  “He chipped you. Of course, he did. Like you were a dog that might wander off.” Old jealousy tightened Jake’s gut. “Why am I not surprised?” He let go and walked away, breathing deeply to calm himself. He paced over the uneven ground. “Connor’s always here, isn’t he? Between us.”

  “Jake. You left me, remember?” Sophie followed him, righteous anger raising her voice. “Connor was there for me then. He chipped me because he wanted to make sure I was always safe. He wanted to make sure that he could find me, because of my psycho mother, because of my dangerous job. He has never wavered in his commitment to me, while you—” her voice choked off.

  Jake stopped. Turned. Was she crying?

  Sophie stood still, backlit by the torch, those fine square shoulders of hers still hunched, her hands over her face.

  “Gah. I’m such a jealous asshole. I’m sorry.” Jake took two long steps back to her, engulfing her in his arms, pressing her rigid body into his. “I’m sorry, I really am. I’m freakin’ glad that ninja vigilante mastermind tagged you. I might not even punch him out when I finally see him again, if we get out of here alive.”

  Sophie snuffled against his chest, still covering her face. “You might as well know everything. We tried to—be together. But there wasn’t anything but friendship between us. You have to believe that.”

  “I believe that. Or we would never have gotten this far.” Jake kissed her forehead, the scar on her cheek, her lips that tasted of salt and tears.

  She pulled back, looked him in the eye. “Connor and I have a bond, and he will always be in my life. He’s important to me. I don’t want to have stress about him. And you.”

  “That’s fair.” Jake clasped her hands. “I also accept Alika. He’s Momi’s dad, and will always be around, too. You’re an unusual woman, and you have unusual relationships. As long as I’m the only guy you sleep with, I’m okay with it.” Jake wiggled his brows, trying to make light of needing to hear her make a commitment to him aloud. “Am I your main squeeze, babe?”

  Sophie let go of his hands and placed hers on his biceps, kneading them gently with a quality of testing fruit for ripeness. That fleeting dimple appeared in her cheek. “Main squeeze. That must be slang for being my lover. Yes, Jake, you’re my lover. My only lover.” She leaned forward and kissed a scratch beneath his jaw. “My beloved. My cootie.”

  “I’ll take it.” Jake drew her in for a kiss. Time became irrelevant. Their surroundings didn’t matter. All that mattered was her in his arms.

  Suddenly, the ground shuddered and heaved. A terrible groaning filled the cave, a deep roar from somewhere deep, a sound like a thousand demons gathering to drag them to hell.

  Another earthquake!

  Jake couldn’t keep his feet, but he turned as he fell so that Sophie landed on top of him as he hit the bucking, heaving ground—and this time, cracks opened in the floor with a sound like ice breaking on a lake in winter.

  Steam hissed out of the cracks, filling the cavern with heat, cutting the visibility, burning their skin.

  The torch on the wall went out.

  Jake jerked with alarm—flame needed oxygen, and it wasn’t getting any.

  A foul stench filled the air.

  Sulfur dioxide smelled horrible. The deadly gas trapped down in the magma us
ually flushed out before the lava appeared, when an eruption was imminent.

  Belching out of the fissures on the cavern’s floor with the steam was a shit-ton of awful-smelling sulfur dioxide.

  They were about to be gassed like rats, and then burned to a crisp.

  Jake didn’t even waste breath on cursing. He surged to his feet, staggering as the floor continued to rock n’ roll. He evaded a column of swirling mist and sucked in a big breath, running with Sophie along the bouncing, shuddering ground as brittle lava broke loose from above and fell around them. Dirt cascaded through the opening above, peppering the steaming surface of the floor with debris.

  They reached the wall and, his lungs already beginning to burn, Jake hoisted himself up onto the lowest ledge. He tugged Sophie’s hand and pulled her with him. She climbed after him, her shirt up over her nose and mouth like she’d done before.

  He hoped she wasn’t breathing—the air was toxic as hell, and a shirt as a mask wasn’t going to do a thing.

  Jake could taste the sulfur dioxide, the noxious poison of it metallic in his mouth. He climbed desperately, reaching up for the next ledge, swallowing his breath down to make that one gulp last longer, towing Sophie after him as she flagged.

  He’d already decided where they would position themselves when he’d assessed the wall—a ledge a couple of feet wide at the top, just beneath the ceiling. They’d be safe there from being parboiled by the superheated steam at the floor, and perhaps the air would be clear enough to breathe because they’d be as close as they could get to the ceiling vent.

  In any case, it was their only option.

  Sophie gasped and coughed, clawing at him, her eyes frantic—and then she sagged and passed out.

  Jake circled an arm under hers and heaved her up against his side. He climbed blindly, hauling her dead weight. Dark spots danced in his vision, narrowing to a tunnel-like circle as he dragged Sophie’s limp form, lifted her up, and rolled her onto the highest ledge above him, under the cave’s ceiling.