The Deep Zone

their dead here, because they felt it brought them closer to the gods who inhabit the cave.”

“You said gods, plural,” Hallie noted. “So it’s not just Chi Con Gui-Jao?”

“Oh, no. There are others. Chi Con is like Zeus in the other myths, the god of all gods. But many others exist, some good, some bad. For the ancients who inhabited this region, the cave was like our heaven—but also like our hell.”

“So you had demons and angels all living down here together?”

“That is right. In perfect balance. And only the curanderos could summon them. But not every curandero could summon every god.”

“You lost me,” Cahner said.

“Like our white magic and black magic. Some curanderos could invoke beneficent gods to heal the sick, ensure good crops, bless a marriage. Others could bring up the, as we would say, demons. To curse enemies, defeat invaders, acquire power.”

Hallie had another question. “How were curanderos chosen?”

“Anyone who wished to follow the path of curandero first underwent a trial. Only those who passed could go on.”

“What was the trial?” Hallie asked.

“The aspirant was brought deep into a cave by the oldest curanderos. He was left alone. Finding his way out proved that he was chosen. Failing to do so proved he was not.”

“How did the curanderos get in and out? With torches, like you told us about the sacrifices?”

“They needed no torches,” Arguello said.

Hallie decided to let that pass for the moment. “So they went back in and brought him out after a certain time?”

“Oh, no. Those who failed remained in the cave forever. That was the trial.”

“Come on, Rafael,” Cahner said. “If they really did that, there wouldn’t have been any curanderos. Nobody could get out of a cave like this without light.”

“The ancient records abound with accounts of those who did exactly that,” Arguello said.

“Sure, but our ancient myths are full of stories about beings who could fly and throw lightning bolts and command the oceans. These things are myths, not to be taken literally.”

“The accounts I speak of are not myths, my friend. They are true statements.”

Cahner chuckled. “But how could you know that, Rafael? You’re talking about things that supposedly happened, what, hundreds or even thousands of years ago.”

“That’s true. But they also happen today.” No one spoke for a long moment. Then Arguello said, “They happen, my friends. Believe me. I have seen it.”

Hallie remembered Lathrop saying that Arguello had undergone shamanic training himself. She and Cahner spoke at the same time, both with the same words:

“What are you—”

Before they could finish, they heard Bowman break the water’s surface, back from his rescue dive. All three reached for their light switches.

At first, it appeared that Bowman was alone. But then he placed one arm on the rocky edge of the flooded tunnel, heaved with the other, and Ron Haight came into sight. The blond head flopped loosely, grotesquely, to one side. The faceplate of his diving mask was shattered. Through it, Hallie could see his dull, unfocused brown eyes.

The presence of death tripped a very deep switch in her brain. Later there would be time to cry, but now she needed to act. She, Cahner, and Arguello grabbed the body, hauled it out of the water, and laid it facedown on the cave floor. Hallie ripped off the dive mask, rolled Haight onto his side, cleared his airway with two fingers, then put him on his back and tilted his head to begin CPR.

She breathed and Cahner did chest compressions. Arguello stood to one side, horrified.

Bowman joined her on the body’s other side and they performed CPR as a team, taking turns. After ten minutes, Bowman sat back on his heels. “Let’s call it. He’s not coming back.”

Cahner stood up. Hallie stayed on her knees, light-headed and dizzy from the hyperventilating. Through the mental haze she looked at Haight’s face, trying to imagine how this could have happened. And then, suddenly, Haight groaned.

“Madre de Dios!” Arguello and Cahner jumped. Hallie and Bowman did not.

“Residual air in his lungs,” she said. “The muscles loosen up before they go into rigor, and it escapes.” She turned to Bowman. “What happened?”

“I found him about twenty feet beyond where the tunnel makes that sharp right-hand turn.”

Arguello breathed a soft prayer in Spanish and did something with his hands over Haight’s body. To Hallie it looked like a stage magician’s movements, but Arguello was dead serious. He asked, “Where is his pack?”

“I cut it off and left it in the tunnel,” Bowman said. “It would have made recovering him much harder.”

Arguello moved off to one side and stood there looking at Haight. Hallie saw tears on his cheeks. She went to him and touched him on the shoulder. He put his hand on hers and let out a long breath.

“Look here.” Bowman held up the rebreather’s shattered faceplate. “That’s what killed him. The faceplate cracked, flooded, and drowned him.”

“If he had been using standard scuba gear, it would not have happened,” said Cahner. “He would have had a regulator mouthpiece in place. Even without the mask, he could have kept going. Visibility was almost zero anyway.”

“How did he break his mask?” Arguello asked.

“I don’t know.” Bowman, still trying to understand, was looking at Cahner, his light making a bright circle on the older man’s chest. “The dive plan called for him to come in after you. Did that happen?”

Cahner took a moment before answering, then said, “I suppose so. I went in first, like you instructed. I pulled myself along and just kept going.”

“So you didn’t see Haight enter the water?”

“No, I was already in, as I just said.”

“Were you aware of him behind you? Did he touch your foot or leg to let you know he was there?”

“No, he didn’t.” Cahner hesitated, considering. “He was probably keeping distance between us, in case there was a cave-in.”

Bowman nodded, turned his gaze back toward the body.

“What do you think, Hallie? You’ve been involved in lots of cave rescues. And recoveries.”

She had been sorting scenarios all the while. “I can think of only three possibilities. One is that the faceplate fractured spontaneously. Rare, but it does happen. Two is that in one of the tunnel’s wider sections there was rockfall that hit the mask and broke it. Three is that he ran into a sharp outcrop and broke it.”

“Ranked by probability?” Bowman asked.

“Collision with rock most likely, rockfall second, defect fracture third.”

“I agree. A defect is very unlikely. These things are all mil-spec quality, meaning they went through even more rigorous testing than civilian dive equipment.”

“This is awful.” There was horror in Cahner’s voice, but he was under control. “He was such a good young man. I was getting ready to go in and he could see that I was… tense… and he double-checked my rebreather and helped me calm down.”

Arguello could not seem to stop staring at Haight’s body. He stood there, as if mesmerized, and Hallie saw that he had started to tremble. It could have been from the cold, or fear, or both. Bowman saw it, too.

“Al, why don’t you two get that stove going and brew us up some tea,” Bowman said, nodding toward the area they had used as a kitchen earlier. “I think we could all use another strong one. Hallie and I will join you shortly.”

“Good idea,” said Cahner. He turned to Arguello and gently took him by the elbow. “Come along. You can help me do it.”

When they were out of hearing, Bowman put his light on Hallie’s chest.

“Any thoughts?”

“Nothing other than what I already said.”