Black Mountain (22 page)

It was quite small and, yes, there at the back stood the
stripling
, upright and undamaged. Heaving a sigh of relief she stooped and entered the cave. Once inside she could stand upright, and she hurried forward and bent to pick up the plant. As she did so she heard a sound behind her and, turning, caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure. Terror gripped her and she opened her mouth to scream, but before any sound emerged she felt a blow to the back of her head, and everything went black.

When Elly came to she was in pitch darkness and her head ached, and at first she couldn't remember what had happened or where she was. She was lying on her back on a hard, unyielding surface, unable to see anything, and when she moved her hands about she realised she was on the ground. A musty smell filled her nostrils, and the air had a dank chill to it. As she sat up it all came flooding back to her. She'd been in the cave and about to pick up the
stripling
when something, or someone, hit her on the head.

A cold chill churned her stomach, turning her insides to water, as she realised she must be inside Black Mountain. Panic gripped her as she remembered all the stories about people going in to the mountain and never being seen again. Was that going to happen to her? And how did she get here? She would never have wandered in here by herself.

With pulses hammering, she felt the rough floor around her. It was damp and cold. She remembered she had a torch with her, and felt in her pocket. No torch. Feeling around her she felt only hard, cold ground.

Shakily she stood up. Her legs were weak, and a sharp pain stabbing her head reminded her she'd been attacked. Her fingers felt the back of her skull. Yes, there was a lump there the size of a golf ball. It was tender but the skin didn't seem to be broken.

With arms outstretched in front of her she took a few slow, tentative steps in the blackness, placing one carefully after another, and her hands touched something solid in front of her. Gingerly she felt around with her fingers. It was hard, smooth stone. It must be the wall of whatever cave she was in. Cautiously she took a step sideways to the right, feeling her way along the wall, and then another, and her foot kicked something that lay on the ground, with a faint metallic sound.

Bending down her fingers groped for the object, and with a pounding heart she realised it was the torch. Picking it up she pushed the button, and when the beam of light shone brightly she cried out with relief. She checked her watch. It was well over an hour since she'd left Cooktown. If Mitchell had finished his job, he'd be wondering where she was. He would come looking for her. Then she remembered that she'd driven his car here. He had no wheels.

Shining the light around, Elly saw she was in a tunnel not much higher than herself. The walls and roof were of black granite, as was the floor, which was fairly level, and she wondered if it was the tunnel that had its entrance opposite the cave where she had been attacked. It extended both in front and behind her, and she had no idea which direction to take to find the entrance. Both ways were pitch black beyond the reach of the torch's beam. She decided to head back behind her. She'd not gone far when she came to a solid wall. Swinging the torch around she saw a passageway branching off to her right and decided to follow that. It was narrower than the first, and the roof was lower and after a short distance the floor began to slope downwards.

Perhaps she should go back? No, she clenched her jaw, hoping the downwards slope meant she was heading back to the entrance, and pressed on. The tunnel twisted and turned the further she went. A little further on she stumbled over something on the floor, and when she swung the torch onto it she screamed as she saw it was the body of a dead bat. Of course, bats live in caves! And so do rock pythons, and snakes, and spiders! And goodness knows what else. Shivering, and with her heart beating even faster than before, she continued walking.

Her shoe kicked a small pebble lying on the floor in front of her, sending it flying ahead, and when she swung the torch up the beam shone out into emptiness. The floor ended abruptly a couple of metres ahead of her. She'd come to the brink of a precipice. Her cry echoed back from the walls.

A deep shuddering sob welled up inside her as she turned around and blundered back the way she'd come. The twists and turns meant she had no idea of whether she was back where she had started or not, but when she came to a rock wall in front of her she turned the only way she could.

After what seemed like hours, but her watch told her was only forty minutes, she turned into yet another passage. It opened out into a large cave that seemed to have no other exit. A rank smell assailed her nostrils. As she stood there, sweeping the torch beam around, a rush of bats swooped by her, their wings beating the air. Screaming, she flailed her arms above her head, trying to ward them off. The torch slipped from her grasp and as it clattered away the light went out.

Elly dropped to her knees and rolled into a ball, her hands pressed to her ears, sobbing. She would never get out of here. Like all the others who had ventured into Black Mountain, she would simply disappear.

Chapter 36

Mitchell looked at the spot where his car had been parked with Elly inside. A red Falcon had taken its place, and he swore to himself as he realised Elly had already left. It had been well past the hour before someone had come to relieve him, and he'd hurried back as fast as he could, hoping she would have changed her mind and waited for him, but too late.

He checked his watch. She'd probably been gone about an hour if she'd left on the hour, so it shouldn't be too long before she'd be back. Without a vehicle there was nothing he could do, so he decided he might as well go inside and have a cup of coffee while he waited.

As the afternoon lengthened Mitchell paced to and fro, checking his watch yet again. Elly should have been back an hour ago or more. What could she be doing? Even if she'd ventured into the forest on her own to check on the fate of the clump of
striplings
, which he doubted, she should be back by now. He cursed himself for having allowed her to go without him. Not that he would have had much hope of stopping her once she made up her mind, he thought wryly—Miss Independent!

As each minute passed he became more worried. Something must have happened to her, and if it had he'd never forgive himself. Why in God's name had he let her take the car? Now he was stranded. He had to do something, he couldn't wait around here any longer. Acting on impulse he hurried down the street to the hire car depot, on the off-chance that the place might still be standing and they might have a car for him.

As he stood staring at what remained of the building, feeling desperate, a car pulled up alongside him.

‘What's the matter, Mitch? You got a problem?' a voice called out to him, and he turned to see it was Jim, with whom he had become friendly as they worked alongside each other.

‘Yes. I need a car, and I'm not likely to get one here.'

‘Where do you want to go, mate?'

‘Elly's taken my car and she should've been back by now. She took it to go down to Black Mountain, where we were camped. She left something behind and she's gone to look for it.'

‘Trust a woman to take no notice of time. Hop in and I'll run you down. We'll probably meet her coming back, like as not.'

Mitchell gratefully accepted the offer, but they didn't meet her on the way, and when they arrived at the mountain there was the Cruiser, parked by the side of the highway.

‘No sign of your missus, though,' Jim said as he pulled up alongside it. ‘You got any keys?'

‘Yes, I have my spares with me. Thanks, Jim, I'm most grateful,' Mitchell told him, not bothering to correct him about the relationship as he opened the door and jumped out.

He waved him off before going to his car and trying the handle. It was locked. Taking out his keys he unlocked the door and checked inside. A quick glance told him it was all as he had left it. Nothing was out of place. He felt a growing sense of alarm. Where could Elly be? He stood looking around. There was no-one in sight.

Sliding into the seat, which had been adjusted to suit Elly, he opened the glove box, intending to take out the torch, but it was gone. He got out and went to the back of the vehicle and retrieved his spare torch from amongst his tools, then closed and locked the doors.

Hurrying over to the boulders he made his way down to the cave. Shining the torch inside he saw the
stripling
had gone. Elly must have been and collected it. But if so, where was she? And where was the plant? It hadn't been inside the vehicle and was nowhere around down here. She wouldn't have taken it anywhere else. Even if she'd decided to go to check on the other plants, she wouldn't have taken it with her, it was too heavy for her to carry any distance.

He felt a steel band tightening around his chest. He was well aware that Elly was not the only person interested in the
stripling
, and his police career meant he knew only too well that where there was big money involved, anything could happen. He must assume the worst. That Elly had been taken, along with the plant. Or worse.

Taking a deep breath, he willed himself not to let his emotions get in the way of logic. If someone had followed Elly and taken the plant from her it had to be someone who knew its value. His mind turned immediately to Jackson Lee, or Kincaid, as he believed him to be. He had to be involved. Mitchell didn't believe the story he'd told Elly. She'd been gullible enough to believe him, but he was a conman, for God's sake! And most likely working for someone who knew exactly what it was worth. Which was, ultimately, millions—to whoever knew how to use it.

But Elly would be a threat. Particularly if she'd seen whoever had taken the plant. And as such she would have to be removed. His heart twisted at the thought.

Would they be willing to risk murder? There was a big difference between that and stealing someone's formula and the material to use it. But what if Elly just disappeared?

He looked at the tunnel leading into the mountain, yawning like the mouth of doom. Here was a place that was notorious for having people disappear.

Grasping his torch firmly he headed into the tunnel, shouting ‘Elly' at the top of his voice. But there was no response, just his voice bouncing back at him.

He'd never ventured more than a few metes inside the mountain before—he'd never had the need to, and his curiosity had not been strong enough to lure him in. But now he had a desperate need to explore its depths.

Mitchell moved forward quickly, his torch beam flicking around as he took in the layout inside, calling her name at regular intervals. He'd only gone a short distance when he came to a fork in the tunnel, with another, smaller passageway branching off to his left. He decided to continue straight ahead. The floor began to slope downwards and after a while he heard the sound of rushing water ahead. Treading carefully he made his way forward until he came to the edge of a void. Flashing his torch down he saw he was on the edge of a deep abyss, and the noise of the water was coming from its depths, way beyond the reach of his light. His voice echoed back at him when he called.

If anyone was to stumble upon this he knew with a sickening sureness there would be no hope for them, and he shuddered as he began to fear his search would be fruitless. Pushing the thought from him, he retraced his steps and took the branch he'd bypassed before.

Its roof was lower than the main tunnel, and he had to stoop as he followed its twists and turns. He had no idea how far he'd come when he heard screaming coming from a side passage he was passing, and seconds later bats came swooping by him.

He turned into the passage and ran. As the passage widened into a cave, he saw a figure huddled on the floor.

Chapter 37

Relief flooded Mitchell as he knelt down beside Elly and pulled her into his arms, trying to calm her sobbing.

‘There, there, my darling,' he soothed, rocking her gently. ‘It's all right, it's all right. I've got you, you're safe now.'

Elly clutched at him wildly. ‘Mitchell,' she sobbed. ‘Is it really you?'

‘Yes I'm here, and you're safe now. I'm going to get you out of here, we're going home.'

She took a deep shuddering breath. ‘Mitchell, I thought you'd never find me. I thought I was going to die in here like all the others.'

‘Well, you're not going to die,' he told her firmly. ‘I'm going to take you home instead.' Slowly he eased back from her. ‘Are you all right?' As he studied her face his chest tightened. ‘Have you been hurt?'

‘Only my head,' she told him.

‘What happened to your head?'

‘Someone hit me there.'

‘Where? Show me.'

Elly put her fingers to the bump on her head, and he swore as he felt it.

‘There's a big lump there. Who did it?'

‘I don't know. I just saw a figure, that's all. Just as I was picking up the
stripling
.'

‘You'll have to be checked as soon as possible. You might have concussion.'

Elly shivered. ‘Never mind that. Please, just get me out of here, that's all.'

‘Do you think you can stand?'

‘I think so.'

Mitchell released his hold on her and eased her gently to the floor, then he stood up and, placing his hands under her armpits, half lifted her to her feet. She seemed a little wobbly for a moment, and Mitchell kept a tight hold around her waist. Then she straightened up and took a few steps, and nodded at him.

‘I'm okay,' she told him shakily. ‘I was frightened, but I was all right until the bats came.' She shuddered. ‘I can't stand bats.'

‘I know. Now, lean on me and we'll get out of here.'

Elly took a few steps with Mitchell holding his arm around her waist, but when they reached the narrow tunnel she told him she'd be all right to walk alone.