"Ya done took yerself quat a trip, Matthew," Frank said. "Five mile allagether, mebbe six from whar ya started ta whar Vernon's people foun' ya. You are some lucky man."
"I thought I was dead going over the falls, then I really thought I was dead when Bass came in with that friggin' gun in his hand."
"Thet's his way. Bass is crazy as a bedbug. Mean, too, dependin' on whut drugs he bin takin'. Ah don' know if'n Ah ever seed him let someone go after they done been ta his camp. You, Lewis?"
" 'Ceptin' us," Lewis said.
"He knowed we mak the best damn hooch inna valley. We got no intrest in the stuff they grow in thet hellhole. But they got more guns an' ammo than the U.S. Army, an' we're always intrested in thangs thet go bang." Again he and Lewis laughed heartily. "O'er the years they come ta trust us — leastways, much as Bass is capble a trustin' anyone. Ya musta done somethin' purdy special fer him ta b'lieve us thet ya kin be trusted, an' let yer ass go."
"I saved Rake's life," Matt said simply.
"Ain't no one's gonna give ya no medal fer thet," Lewis said.
Matt checked his watch. There had to be enough air in the cave to get Nikki and the others this far. He prayed that Nikki or Ellen hadn't given up on him and tried to get out via the river. It was doubtful the gods would let two survive that trip in a single morning.
"How much longer?" he asked.
"Almos' there," Frank said. "They's no way ta git direct from Vernon's place ta the tunnel we plan on usin'."
"And Vernon explained what I needed? I mean, you brought some explosives?"
Frank smiled.
"Ah think ya kin say thet," Lewis replied.
"Wha d'ya think Ah been drivin' so slow," Frank added.
Matt gulped and looked back through the window at Lyle, who was stretched out calmly among the bundles, smoking a cigarette.
"I owe you guys big-time," Matt said.
They drove the last quarter mile off-road, weaving through the trees and rolling over roots. At the spot Frank pulled over, there was no hint of a tunnel along the rocky base of the broad, wooded hill.
"Where are we going from here?" Matt asked as they unloaded two large rucksacks from the truck, as well as two smaller nylon bags and a long, khaki canvas bag with a U.S. Army insignia stenciled on it.
"Jes 'cause ya cain't see somethin' don't mean it ain't there," Frank said, passing Matt one of the large backpacks and two thick coils of rope. "They's a bunch a entrances inta this here moun'in. Trick is ta know which one of 'em end suddenly in big, deep holes."
Only Lewis wasn't loaded down as the four of them made their way across twenty yards of shrub- and leaf-covered ground to the hill. Matt felt his excitement beginning to surge at the prospect of seeing Nikki alive.
Hang on, baby. Just a little longer.
This entrance to the tunnel, completely obscured behind an outcropping of rock, was no more than four feet from top to bottom — a jagged crack large enough to admit a person on hands and knees, but certainly not one with a pack. They piled their gear by the entry, and Matt and Frank made their way inside, each pulling one end of rope. Matt was not the least surprised to realize that his pulse remained relatively slow and stable, despite the tight passageway.
Step right up and get it, ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Rutledge's Famous Cure for Claustrophobia.
Guided by powerful flashlights, they made their way thirty feet along the narrow tunnel before arriving at a vestibule high enough to stand and wide enough for all of them and their gear. Frank tied the ropes together, forming one end of a long loop, with enough cord extending from the knot to lash onto a strap. Lewis was doing the same outside. One piece at a time, they hauled their gear in, while the empty cord was returned to Lewis and Lyle for reloading.
Hurry! Matt wanted desperately to yell out. Hurry!
The trip into the mountain by this route seemed longer and narrower than the one from the cleft, but there were no drop-offs and no water until they passed over the river on some planks near the very end of their journey.
Ten-forty.
The landscape of what used to be the entrance to the toxic dump had been completely transformed. Much of the overhead wall had collapsed, making a new cave outside the old one. The ceiling of the new cave, perhaps twenty feet above them, could be reached by climbing up a wall of rock that was just ten degrees or so short of vertical. The floor was littered with rubble but passable, and some of the right-hand wall had collapsed, leaving a strangely smooth gouge that looked as if it had been produced with a giant ice-cream scoop.
"Oooeee," Frank said, inspecting the massive front wall. "Them boys 'uz playin' fer keeps."
Matt felt sick. He had images of putting a stick of dynamite among some boulders, lighting a match, and blowing a new entrance to the cavern. Piece of cake.
As if reading his thoughts, Lewis put a hand on his shoulder.
"We'll git in thar fer ya, Matthew," he said.
Largely in silence, the three Slocumbs functioned like a highly skilled military unit. Lyle set out several kerosene lanterns, making the space nearly daylight bright, and then began unpacking their gear. Lewis, hands on hips, slightly short of breath, watched as Frank scuttled to the top of the pile of rock, then across from one side to the other.
"You'd best be darn good, Lewis," he called as he scrambled back down the wall.
"Ah am," Lewis replied simply. "Okay, Matthew, here's the deal. This here's the head-wall. It's lak a plug whar there useta be a hole. Ain't no big trouble blowin' it up. The trick is ta do it without killin' us an' anyone whut mot be behin' it."
"But you think you can:1"
"Ah think Ah kin try. Ain't no one kin do more'n thet. Lyle, lis'n up. I wanna soften up this here baby with a shell from Little Bertha, jes 'bout two-thirds a the way up. Kin ya hit thet big, pointy rock rot thar?"
"From whar?"
"Far 'nuff back so's ya don' git kilt, Lyle."
Lyle scanned the cave.
"No sweat," he proclaimed. "They's a spot ta shoot from rot back thar."
He opened up the long army-issue bag, removed a compact rocket launcher, and began preparing it to be fired.
"Ain't she a beauty," Lewis said to Matt. "A Javelin Anti-tank Missile with HEAT — hah-explosive antitank warhead. It'll penetrate more'n twenny inch a armor. Jes far an' ferget — thet means ferget whut yer shootin' at an' ferget about standin' round ta watch. Range a twenny-fahve hunnerd meter. Thet's goin' on two mile."
"Jesus, Lewis. How'd you guys get this?"
Lewis replied with a wry look that said, "Ya know better'n ta ask a queschin ya really don' want ta know the answer to."
"Frank," he said, "les you an' me git the Gel-Paks ready. Three rows up an' down, beginnin' with a pound at the very top an' finishin' with, say, ten pound at the bottom. We'll use det cord ta link 'em up."
Frank quickly produced several dozen sausagelike packages from one of the rucksacks and laid them on a tarp by Lewis, along with the detonating cord. Skillfully, the brothers began linking them together.
"Ready," Lyle called out.
Frank dragged the Gel-Paks away from the target and threw another tarp over them.
"This way, Doc," Lewis said, leading him and Frank back into the tunnel until they couldn't even see the head-wall. "It'd be fun ta watch this, but it'd also be a mot dangerous. Ah s'pect Lyle'll be back here purdy darn quick, too."
Matt heard a loud woosh from around the bend, followed by Lyle diving headfirst at their feet. At the same instant a sharp, near-deafening explosion resonated through the tunnel, followed by the clattering of rock. When Lewis nodded that it was okay to revisit the head-wall, they found the center of it largely pulverized, and the topmost rocks displaced and loosened.