The Aleppo Code (The Jerusalem Prophecies) (48 page)

“We need to get us out of here,” said Bohannon. “I don’t know what’s happening with our pursuers, but this water’s risen about two inches since we’ve been standing here. We don’t have much time.”

Rizzo tried to wriggle his shoulders, but there was no movement. His arms, stuck out in front of him, were useless. Although the walls were only inches from his fingers, he couldn’t reach them. There was no way for him to push himself up. No way to twist himself down.

Water ran down his back, around his ears and over his face, some getting in his nose.

He shook his head.

“Are you guys waiting for a bus? Get me out of here or I’m gonna drown while standing on my head.”

Bohannon looked over Joe’s shoulder at the cave opening on the floor. The water was rising into the opening.

“Can you get to him?”

Rodriguez shook his head, a grimace crossing his face. “Even if I stand up in there, and I raise my arms, I think he’s going to be a couple of feet above me. But that’s not the biggest problem. He can’t get through the opening. He’s not going back up that chute. We’ve got to get him on this side of the opening.”

Bohannon looked into his brother-in-law’s eyes. “And we need to do it now.”

Rizzo watched as Rodriguez pressed himself through the opening at the base of the wall, water covering the lower half. He tried to control his breathing, tried to still the shivers running up and down his spine, tried to quell the voice declaring his impending death. He could still breathe. There was still hope.

His friends were here. He was no longer alone. And they wouldn’t abandon him. Unless …

Rodriguez shined his MagLite up at Rizzo, blinding him for a moment.

Unless they had to run for their lives.

Joe was desperate. He examined the sides of the tunnel around Rizzo, looking for cracks … something to open the space wider. The water, and Rizzo’s blood, kept getting into his eyes, blurring his vision. He almost missed it entirely.

Rodriguez wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, clearing the blurs for a moment. He extended his arm as far as it would go and played the beam of his light on Rizzo.

“Sam, are you wearing your pack?”

Sam had turned his head away from the bright light. “Why … you want my pajamas?”

“Sam!”

Rizzo raised his head and stared into the light. “Yeah. I’d probably be dead if it hadn’t cushioned the abrupt stop. Why? Wait!” Rizzo tried to see Rodriguez through the light as the reality dawned on him. “I can’t reach it.”

Joe slid back down the shaft and splashed through the opening. He needed to grab Tom’s hand to get to his feet. Annie was leaning against the far wall of the passage, holding all three of their packs out of the ankle-deep water. Joe fished into the side pocket of his pack and pulled out a pocketknife he kept to razor sharpness. He turned to Tom.

“I need you to hold me up. I need to get up to Sammy and try to cut the straps to his pack off his shoulders. Then maybe we can pull him loose.”

Bohannon looked down at the rising water.

“I know. It’s getting high,” said Rodriguez. “I just need a couple more feet.”

“Let’s go.”

Rodriguez pushed back through the hole—where the water level now covered half the opening—with his flashlight in one hand and his knife in the other.

“I ain’t gonna be some sacrifice to the water god.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

Rodriguez stood up and spread his legs as wide as the sides of the tunnel would allow.

“Okay, Tom.”

Bohannon squeezed through the opening, but stayed on the floor. He pivoted and pushed his back against the wall facing the opening.

Rodriguez placed one boot firmly on Bohannon’s left shoulder. “Ready?” he asked.

“Just do it,” Tom replied.

Rodriguez stepped on his right shoulder, raising off the ground a good three feet. Joe felt a shudder underfoot as Tom moaned aloud under the pressure,

It was a tight fit that high in the tube, not much room for Rodriguez to maneuver. He switched the knife to his left hand with the flashlight and reached out with his right. He laid his right hand against Rizzo’s cheek.

“Hi, Sam. Good to see you again.”

“No tears, Goliath. Get me out of here. And brush your teeth.”

With his right fingers Rodriguez tried to wriggle between Rizzo’s left shoulder and the shoulder strap of the backpack.

“Ooowww. Oh, man … that hurts.”

“Gotta try, Sam. That’s the only way we can get you free. Here. Let me push you up a little bit. Maybe that will loosen the tension. Gonna push, Tom!”

The boots cut into Bohannon’s shoulders, bringing tears to his eyes. He ground his teeth and then bit down on his tongue to keep from screaming. What was more troublesome was the chest-high water that nearly filled the shaft’s opening.

Taking the knife into his right hand and putting his left hand against Rizzo’s collarbone, Rodriguez pushed against the wedge and the force of Rizzo’s body. He felt the shoulder strap go momentarily limp and darted the knife blade under the strap and sliced across its face. The cords flayed against the sharp edge.