Chapter 71
Chapter 71
I clipped onto the rope, latched Gunner to my back, and began the rappel down. When I landed on the stone shelf, I noticed two things. First, the shelf was wider than when I left it, and I’d come to the end of the rope. Meaning, I’d descended almost 120 feet. Not the original hundred I’d ascended. This confused me. And I had no explanation for the change in water level. Although the water was fresh, the only factor to which I could attribute the change was the tide outside somehow affecting the water level in here through a change in volumetric pressure.
In order to return the way I came, I now had to climb back up twenty feet to the original shelf. So I put my foot in the rock and took one step. Then another. For reasons I couldn’t articulate, I took one look behind me. Over my shoulder.
This was the second thing I noticed, and the sight surprised me. I was not expecting what I saw: an empty cavern. Much like the one I’d walked through to get here. I climbed down, unclipped, and knew if and when the tide returned, I did not want to get caught in here—but as of now, it was empty. Not dry, but empty. A worn walkway within a carved tunnel led the opposite direction of the one I’d entered. With my headlamp on high, I pulled a second light from my pack and clicked it on. The path led out of the well and up a slight ramp, which meant it remained above the waterline. It then leveled out into a pathway carved by hand through stone, the circular implement scars on the stone telling the story. I followed the path and, fifty feet in, saw the first thing that took my breath away.
Dried blood. Smeared on the wall. Shoulder high. Then again. Splattered. As if by coughing. Fifty feet and there was more. By now I was jogging. I’d seen the bullet exit the top of Frank’s head. That meant only one other person could have smeared that blood. I lifted Gunner, let him smell the dried and caked blood, then held his muzzle and said, “Find Bones.”
If his body was down here, maybe I could find it. I knew he’d be badly decomposed by now, but at least I’d know. At least we could bury him properly. Put something other than memories in his coffin.
Gunner began sniffing. Then jogging. I struggled to keep pace. We ran what I could only guess was close to a quarter mile. Winding slightly downhill. Dried blood here. Dried blood there. When the tunnel finally turned right, I saw another thing I did not expect.
Daylight.
We ran the last hundred yards full out. Gunner leading the way. Following his nose. By now, the blood was caked along the floor. Bones had been dragging both himself and his brother. Trying to get to the water. To set them both free. Where they had started. Two boys in the ocean.
The mouth of the tunnel exited into a small, protected bay. I squatted, squinted into bright light, and followed the trail where Bones had slipped down into the water. Dragging Frank with him. At the water’s edge the trail disappeared.
Washed by the water.
The tears came again. This time more easily. Something about this felt good. Felt right. Bones had not died in some dark tunnel. He died with the sun on his face. In the water. Arms wrapped around his brother. He’d done it. He’d rescued Frank. And for reasons I didn’t understand, something about that warmed me.
I lay in the mouth of the tunnel, Gunner alongside me, his ears perked and listening. We studied the world around us. As the breeze cooled my face, I realized I’d lost count of the days. Had it been eight weeks? Two months? I couldn’t say.
As I tried to do the math, I couldn’t shake the thought that something looked oddly familiar. That was when it hit me.
I dialed the number. He answered after the second ring. “How are you, my friend?’
It was a good question. One I’d not considered. “I’m well, I think. I was wondering if I could ask a favor.”
“Anything.”
“The video you showed me of the large yacht moored in the small, protected bay. Can you bring it up?”
Keys typed in the background. “Done.”
“Wasn’t there a sailboat exiting that video shortly after it began?”
He studied the video. “Yes.”
“Can you tell me anything about the boat?”
A few seconds passed as more keystrokes sounded. “Forty-two feet. Name on the hull reads Nun Taken , with Nun spelled N-u-n.”
I considered this.
“Anything else?”
“Can you estimate how fast it was traveling on exit?”
A pause. “Sixteen-point-seven knots. Probably max speed for a craft like that.”
“Thanks much.” I hung up and scratched my chin. Gunner looked at me like he was hungry. We climbed up and walked across the bare rock outcropping. Surrounded on three sides by water as far as the eye could see. If Bones had wanted a better burial spot, he’d have to look long and hard to find it.
I spent the afternoon staring into the water. Bones’s grave. I didn’t want to leave. But when the sun dropped below the horizon, something in me gave way. Something in me whispered a farewell. That was when I knew. I’d done it. I’d told Bones goodbye for the last time.