“That’s okay. I’m right here with you. Are you all right?”
“
“Is there a loose rock? Toss it down and count until you hear it hit.”
“Okay. Hold on.”
Her answer didn’t come as soon as he’d hoped.
“Six seconds.”
“That’s going to be a little longer than our rope. Does the ledge lead anywhere?”
“It goes right.”
“How wide is it?”
“Half a meter.”
“Can you get out on it?”
“Without falling, you mean?”
“That would be best.”
He heard her sigh and then the scrape of the rifle as she pushed it farther out in front of her.
“Damn!” she said, her shout echoing off the stone walls. He was about to ask what had happened but then heard the metallic clatter of the rifle hitting the ground far below.
Great.
“It’s okay, Sarie. No problem. Focus on what you’re doing.”
He gripped her ankle as she turned the corner, though he doubted he could stop her if she fell. More likely they’d both go over.
“All right,” she said, struggling to keep her breathing under control. “I’m out. I’m on the ledge. But it stops in front of me. There’s a meter gap before it starts again.”
“Can you stand up?”
“No way in hell.”
“The only way you’re going to make it across a gap that wide is by jumping it.”
“You think I don’t know that?” she snapped. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer. “I’m sorry, Jon. I know you’re just trying to help. But the ledge I’m on is narrow enough that my left side is hanging in the air and the wall above me just feels like a bunch of dirt and mud. There’s no way I could keep my balance.”
“I understand,” he said calmly. “Here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to slide straight back until your hips are even with the hole I’m in. Understand?”
“Yeah. Okay. Back. Back is good.”
The illumination from the flashlight in her hand played off the cave walls as she carefully reversed herself.
“That’s far enough. You’re doing great.”
He slid a hand down the back of her cargo pants, getting a solid grip on the heavy cotton waistband.
“I’d like to get to know you better, too, Jon. But do you really think this is the time?”
They both laughed, longer and harder than the joke probably warranted, but it helped drain off a little of the tension.
“Okay, Sarie. I’ve got myself wedged in here like a tick. I’m not coming out and I’m not letting go. So just stand up and don’t worry about falling.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“It was pretty easy, actually.”
They laughed again and he dug harder into the contours of the wall as her hips rose. When her shoulders came even with the top of the hole he was in, he started pulling, causing her back to scrape against the rock as she straightened.
“Move right and look around on the wall for something solid to hold on to.”
“Yeah…Okay, I found something. It feels pretty solid.”
“Your turn to help me, then.”
Less than a minute later he was on his feet, spine pressed into the wall and toes hanging over a pit as black as outer space. They eased right and he took one of her hands, steadying her as she crossed the gap.
They circumnavigated the chamber carefully, the breeze strengthening the farther they went. When it turned into a wind powerful enough to affect their already precarious balance, they stopped.
“Turn off your light a second, Sarie.”
“What? Why?”
“Just humor me.”
She flicked the switch and he waited for his eyes to adjust. As they did, the blackness turned gray with the dim glow of sunlight.
44
“Give me your hand.”
Smith never thought he’d actually be happy to have the Ugandan sun pounding down on him, but he was having a hard time remembering anything feeling so good. The hole he was hovering over was about the same size as the one they’d entered but had the benefit of opening over a pile of shattered boulders that reached to within six feet of it.
He grabbed Sarie’s hand and pulled her through, making sure neither of them rose higher than the top of the grass. She lay on her back for a few moments, staring into the sky and gulping at the humid air.
“Thank you, Jon.”
“It was a team effort.”
A single shot sounded in the distance and he peeked over the grass in the direction it had come from.
“They’re still shooting,” Sarie said. “It never stops…”
“Yeah, but that’s exactly what we wanted to hear.”
“What do you mean?”
“If someone’s still shooting, it means there’s still someone to shoot at. At least one of the good guys is still alive.”
“What are we going to do about it?”
“
“No way. We stay together. When it comes to Caleb Bahame, you’re better off going down fighting than sitting around waiting to get caught.”
It was hard to fault her logic. Leaving her in the middle of guerrilla-controlled territory wasn’t exactly an act of chivalry.
“Fine,” Smith said, starting to drag himself through the grass with his elbows. “Stay right behind me. Remember: low and slow.”
Their luck held and no more shots were fired in the hour and a half it took them to cover what he calculated was no more than a quarter mile.
Cover became more sparse as they approached the cave entrance, forcing him to signal Sarie to stop and continue on without her. He flattened himself on the ground, timing his advance with the movement of the wind over the grass. After another fifteen minutes, the ground cover thinned to the point that going any farther would be guaranteed to expose him. Fortunately, it was far enough. He could see Peter Howell sitting with his back against a low boulder next to the man who had so wisely tried to convince them to go back to Kampala.
The brief flash of pride Smith felt at having managed to sneak up on his friend was short-lived. Howell’s head suddenly swiveled in his direction, the concern visible in his eyes as he reached for his rifle.
Maybe next time.
