Chapter Thirty-Four - Stuck in the Cave
I couldn’t believe it.
From brush and mountain chase,
to hiding in this cave—
our sanctuary, now turned predator.
A devouring monster.
An enemy.
We crouched low.
Ears burning.
Listening.
He tried the ledge.
Bad leg dragging.
Scraping stone.
He tried crawling.
Too narrow.
Tried sliding on his belly.
Better.
But slow.
I wondered what he’d do at the end.
Where the ledge stopped short.
Where the pool waited.
Black.
Bottomless.
He’d have to swim.
Not with that leg.
Not with his fear of water.
The ledge was our ally now.
It fought him.
Every inch.
His bad leg slipped toward the pool.
He screamed.
Cursed.
Echoes slammed the cavern.
At the end—
he sat.
Wept.
“I have to go back,” he sobbed.
“I can’t swim.
It’s thirty feet.
God, I wish that girl would come back.
I think I’ll die here.
I can’t even turn around.”
My mind reeled.
This hulking brute—
two days of threats,
Bobby’s arm broken—
dreamed I’d help him.
The thought made me want to leap out,
kick him into the water,
watch him vanish.
He lay just beyond our crawlspace.
Didn’t notice it when he passed.
Too weak.
Too blind.
Worse shape than I thought.
Oralee’s eyes burned in the candlelight.
“Lizzy, he’s stuck,” she whispered in my head.
“We can crawl out.
Escape.
Even if he hears us—
he can’t move.
Forward or back.”
I whispered back,
not sure if she’d hear.
“He’s crafty, Oralee.
I don’t trust his story.”
Billy’s eyes sparked like hers.
His voice slammed into my skull.
“He’s stuck.
Not going anywhere.
We can leave him.”
I shook my head.
“No.
I’ve dealt with him for two days.
I know him
He’ll use any trick.
Fool you.
Grab you.
Threaten your life.
Something’s wrong in his mind.
Always me he demands.
Always me he calls.”
We crawled out of the low tunnel.
Back to the ledge.
Back to the pool.
Above us—the opening.
High in the cavern roof.
Moonlight spilled down.
Thin.
Cold.
Barely enough to paint the water black.
I dug into the box I’d grabbed earlier.
Candles.
Matches.
Extra light.
“Here.” I shoved one at Billy.
Another at Oralee.
Flames sputtered.
Shadows leapt across the walls.
The cavern breathed with them.
Oralee’s eyes glowed strange.
She didn’t need the candle.
She saw auras in the dark.
But she held the flame anyway.
Its light flickered against her face,
half human, half ghost.
Billy’s hands shook.
Wax dripped.
His flame jittered,
threatening to die.
HE was there.
Just inches away.
Face twisted.
Eyes wild.
Voice exploding.
“Help me! Get me off this ledge!
You hear me, girl? You help me now!”
His screams tore the cavern.
Spittle sprayed.
Hands clawed at the rock.
Leg dangling over black water.
We pressed flat against the wall.
Slid past him.
Boots slipping.
Breath ragged.
Every inch a death sentence.
He cursed.
Howled.
Promised vengeance.
But we kept moving.
Kept sliding.
Back into the tunnel.
Away from him.
We stumbled forward.
Feet smashing stone.
Candle sputtering.
Air thick.
Then—voices.
Men’s voices.
Daddy’s roar among them.
Closer than I’d dreamed.
Echoes bounced wrong.
They’d taken the turn.
Up toward the other entrance.
Not toward us.
I froze.
Heart hammering.
They were in the cave.
Searching.
But not here.
Oralee’s eyes widened.
Billy’s breath caught.
We could almost call out.
Almost.
But the sound would carry.
Straight back to him.
Their voices faded.
Gone.
We screamed.
Yelled.
More screams.
Nothing.
Only cave rattling and sighing.
I thought of him.
In the dark.
Alone.
I didn’t mind that.
But I knew he would die.
Too weak to get off that shelf.
I shoved Oralee and Billy forward.
“Go. Find Mama. Keep moving.”
They hesitated.
Oralee’s hand clung to mine.
Billy shook his head.
“Not without you.”
“Go!” I snapped.
“Now!”
They vanished into the dark.
Toward safety.
Toward Mama.
Alone.
I turned back.
Toward the sobs.
Toward the curses.
Toward the man trapped on the ledge.
It took longer than I’d planned.
Just get to him. Get him off the ledge, Lizzy.
My own voice this time.
Startled me.
I’d grown used to Mama’s voice in my head.
Candles burned low.
Wax dripping.
Tiny stubs now.
I knew I might not make it back to the main cavern—
not without facing pure darkness.
Mama’s voice again.
“Lizzy, don’t you dare try to capture that man alone!
Get back here.”
“I can’t let him die without a chance, Mama.
You know I can’t.
Just like you wouldn’t.”
“I’m coming.
Harry and your Daddy took a wrong turn."
"Im bringing the sheriff and a deputy.
We’ll get you out.
Him too—but he won’t like it.
"Be careful.
Don’t let him take you again.”
“I’m careful, Mama.
He’s too weak to do much.”
Moonlight sliced down from the cavern opening.
Thin beam.
Eerie glow on the water,
the ledge,
the tunnel across the pool.
“Where is he?”
My heart slammed.
I scanned the pool.
Nothing.
Skin crawled.
He’d slipped off the ledge?
Back into the cave?
How?
Oralee’s voice in my head.
“Lizzy, look in the small tube where we hid.”
I stared hard.
Nothing.
Maybe he’d heard me coming.
Maybe he’d crawled in, waiting to grab me.
He never stopped.
Never stopped trying to force me north.
To Canada.
My breath raced.
Vision blurred.
Mama’s command cut sharp.
“Slow breaths in. Slow out.
Find a place to hide.
I’m on my way.”
But it wasn’t easy.
And I was in no way
about to hide.
Not now.
“Girl! Get me out of here!”
His muffled scream.
Panic‑stricken.
“I’m stuck in this blasted hole!”
Frantic.
Not demanding.
Pleading.
I crouched.
Stared across the water.
Low tunnel.
Feet kicking.
Violent.
He’d scooted back on the shelf.
Inched his head and torso into the tunnel.
“Why’re you in there?”
Sarcasm laced my voice.
“I tried to turn myself around.” He whined.
“I’m too big for this God forsaken tunnel.
My body jammed. I can’t get back out!”
His muffled panic echoed
across the dark pond.
I held silence.
Then—
“I should leave you there.”
I smiled.
For once, I controlled the scene.
“No! Don’t leave!
Don’t you dare!”
Then he swore.
Called me a name.
One I won’t spell.
He shouldn’t have done that.
I kicked a pebble into the pond.
“Fine. I’ll get you out.”
My voice cracked with a giggle.
Had I lost my mind?
Maybe.
He had no idea what I intended.
No idea what fear I meant to give back.
The torture.
The terror.
I squatted.
Studied him.
How to drag that bulk from the tunnel?
Like pulling a carrot through a straw.
But I was a skinny, worn‑out kid.
He was huge.
“Maybe I’ll leave you long enough to lose weight.”
I laughed.
Dark humor.
“No! Get me out!
I’m running out of oxygen!”
Boots kicked stone.
My stomach eased.
I shouted back.
“Here’s what you don’t know.
I don’t care if you run out.
You’ll be easier to handle
if you’re out cold.”
Silence
Then—
“Please, Lizzy?”
Wrath ripped through me.
He called me by name.
He. Called. Me. By Name.
After kidnapping us.
After hurting Bobby.
After forcing me up that mountain.
Me half his size, dragging him hard enough to kill him.
And he never stopped.
Now he calls me by name?
Not “girl.”
Not “hey you.”
“Lizzy.”
Ice scalded my mind.
Fire pierced my chest.
“Never. Ever. Say. My. Name. Again.
Do you hear me?”
Grunt.
Then silence.
“Do you hear me?” I demanded.
Nothing.
He’d passed out.
Excellent.
Easier to deal with.
I shook harder than I ever had.
He’d made me so mad.
But—my plan clear:
Drag him out.
Push him into the water.
Tow him to the far bank.
Away from the rescue tunnel.
Leave him stranded.
Let him claw his own way out.
“Lizzy.”
Mama crept through the tunnel.
Sheriff Owens behind her.
A deputy at his side.
Boots scraping stone.
Breath harsh.
Weapons ready.
Flashlights beaming
splintering light across the pond.
They crouched beside me.
Close.
Urgent.
“Lizzy, we’re here to help.”
The sheriff’s voice cut through my rage.
Steady.
Gravel‑low.
Mama, sharp:
“You really want to drag him out without tying his legs?
You won’t pull hard enough on your own.
Let’s tie his feet, then we get into the water.
Tug him out. Yank him free.”
“I don’t have anything.”
“We can help with that.”
The deputy lifted a rope.
It slithered like a snake in his hands.
Cold.
Alive.
"Oralee told us where you are, how he was stuck.
Let’s tie those feet.
Drag him out.
Cuff him once we're on shore."
The sheriff glared at the crook’s boots.
Dangling from the tunnel.
Silent.
Waiting.
For some reason I resented their help.
This was my long awaited prey.
Like the cougar,
I didn't want to share.
Sheriff Owens saw my resistence.
He'd felt it a few times.
I gathered he felt it now...
that crook's gotta go,
but we wouldn't be the ones
to end him.
The deputy stomped his boot on a rock.
“I doubt he’ll escape again.”
But I stared at those feet.
Thought of his bad leg.
Thought of how he’d clawed through brush for two days.
How he’d scraped against the sawmill’s axe at the back of the bus.
Bloody head to toe.
Cut himself free when no one believed he could.
But he had.
He’d defied the odds.
He’d escaped.
And now—
he was here.
Still breathing.
Still waiting.
Still dangerous.