The Other Side of Midnight (37 page)

“I’ll remember that next time,” Larry said. His voice was hoarse.

The excitement that Catherine had noticed seemed
to have gone out of him, as though a switch had been suddenly turned off.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Larry said.

“But—we just got here. Is anything wrong?”

“No,” he snapped. “I just hate mob scenes.”

They took the easy path back, and on the way down Larry did not speak at all. It was as though he was filled with an icy rage and Catherine could not imagine why. She was sure she had not said or done anything to offend him. It had been when the other people appeared that his manner had changed so abruptly. Suddenly Catherine thought she guessed the reason for his mood, and smiled. He had wanted to make love to her in the cloud! That was why he had started moving toward her with his arms outstretched. And his plans had been spoiled by the group of tourists. She almost laughed aloud with joy. She watched Larry as he strode down the trail ahead of her, and she was infused with a feeling of warmth.
I’ll make it up to him when we get back to the hotel
, she promised herself.

But when they returned to their bungalow, and Catherine put her arms around him and started to kiss him, Larry told her that he was tired.

At three o’clock in the morning Catherine lay in bed, too excited to sleep. It had been a long day and a frightening one. She thought of the mountain path and the shaky bridge and the climb up the face of the rock. And finally she fell asleep.

The following morning Larry went to talk to the reception clerk.

“Those caves you mentioned the other day,” Larry began.

“Ah, yes,” the clerk replied. “The Caves of Perama. Very colorful. Very interesting. You must not miss them.”

“I guess I’ll have to see them,” Larry said lightly. “I don’t care for caves much, but my wife heard about them and she’s been after me to take her there. She loves that kind of thing.”

“I am certain you will both enjoy it, Mr. Douglas. Just be sure to hire a guide.”

“Do I need one?” Larry asked.

The clerk nodded. “It is advisable. There have been several tragedies there, people getting lost.” He lowered his voice. “One young couple has not been found to this day.”

“If it’s so dangerous,” Larry asked, “why do they allow people in?”

“It is only the new section that is dangerous,” the clerk explained. “It has not been explored yet and there are no lights. But with a guide you will not have to worry.”

“What time do they close the caves?”

“At six o’clock.”

Larry found Catherine outside, reclining under a giant oxya tree, the beautiful Greek oak, reading.

“How’s the book?” he asked.

“Put-downable.”

He hunched beside her. “The hotel clerk told me about some caves near here.”

Catherine looked up, faintly apprehensive. “Caves?”

“He said it’s a must. All the honeymooners go there. You make a wish inside, and it comes true.” His voice was boyish and eager. “How about it?”

Catherine hesitated a moment, thinking how like a little boy Larry really was. “If you would like it,” she said.

He smiled. “Great. We’ll go after lunch. You go ahead and read. I have to drive into town and pick up a few things.”

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“No,” he said easily, “I’ll be right back. You take it easy.”

She nodded. “All right.”

He turned and left.

In town Larry found a small general store that was able to supply him with a pocket flashlight, some fresh
batteries and a ball of twine.

“Are you staying up at the hotel?” the shopkeeper asked as he counted out Larry’s change.

“No,” Larry said. “Just passing through on my way to Athens.”

“I’d be careful if I was you,” the man advised.

Larry looked up at him sharply. “Of what?”

“There’s a storm coming up. You can hear the sheep crying.”

Larry returned to the hotel at three o’clock. At four o’clock, Larry and Catherine left for the caves. A troubled wind had sprung up, and to the north large thunderheads were starting to form, erasing the sun from the sky.

The Caves of Perama lie thirty kilometers east of Ioannina. Over the centuries tremendous stalagmites and stalactites have formed into the shapes of animals and palaces and jewels, and the caves have become an important tourist attraction.

When Catherine and Larry arrived at the caves, it was five o’clock, one hour before closing. Larry bought two tickets and a pamphlet at the ticket booth. A shabbily dressed guide came up and offered his services.

“Only fifty drachmas,” he intoned, “and I will give you the best guided tour.”

“We don’t need a guide,” Larry said, curtly.

Catherine looked at him, surprised by his sharp tone.

He took Catherine’s arm. “Come on.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t have a guide?”

“What for? It’s a racket. All we do is go inside and look at the cave. The pamphlet will tell us anything we need to know.”

“All right,” Catherine said agreeably.

The entrance to the cave was larger than she had expected, brightly lit with flood lamps and filled with milling tourists. The walls and roof of the cave seemed to be crammed with heroic figures sculpted out of the
rocks: birds and giants and flowers and crowns.

“It’s fantastic,” Catherine exclaimed. She studied the pamphlet. “No one knows how old it is.”

Her voice sounded hollow, reverberating against the rock ceiling. Over their heads, stalactites hung down. A tunnel carved into the rock led to a second smaller room that was lit by naked bulbs wired near the ceiling of the cave. There were more fanciful figures in here, a wild profligate display of nature’s art. At the far end of the cave was a printed sign that read:
Danger: Keep Away
.

Beyond the sign was the entrance to a yawning black cavern. Casually Larry walked over to it and looked around. Catherine was studying a carving near the entrance. Larry took the sign and tossed it to one side. He walked back to Catherine.

“It’s damp in here,” she said. “Shall we leave?”

“No.” Larry’s tone was firm.

She looked at him in surprise.

“There’s more to see,” Larry explained. “The hotel clerk told me that the most interesting part is the new section. He said we mustn’t miss it.”

“Where is it?” Catherine asked.

“Over there.” Larry took her arm and they walked toward the rear of the cave and stood in front of the gaping black chasm.

“We can’t go in there,” Catherine said. “It’s dark.”

Larry patted her arm. “Not to worry. He told me to bring a flashlight.” He produced it from his pocket. “And—
voilà
—see?” He turned it on, and its narrow beam lit up a long dark corridor of ancient rock.

Catherine stood there, staring at the tunnel. “It looks so big,” she said uncertainly. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Of course,” Larry replied. “They bring schoolchildren here.”

Catherine still hesitated, wishing they could stay with the other tourists. Somehow this seemed dangerous to her.

“All right,” she said.

They started into the passage. They had traveled only a few feet when the circle of light from the main cave behind them was swallowed up in the blackness. The passage made an abrupt turn to the left and then curved to the right. They were alone in a cold, timeless primeval world. In the beam of Larry’s flashlight Catherine caught a glimpse of his face in the reflection of light and she saw that look of animation again. It was the same way he had looked on the mountain. Catherine tightened her grip on his arm.

Ahead of them the tunnel forked. Catherine could see the rough stone on the low ceiling as it split off in separate directions. She thought of Theseus and the Minotaur in the cave, and she wondered whether they were going to bump into them. She opened her mouth to suggest that they turn back, but before she could speak, Larry said, “We go to the left.”

She looked at him and said in what she hoped was a casual voice, “Darling, don’t you think we should start back? It’s getting late. The caves will be closing.”

“They’re open until nine,” Larry replied. “There’s one particular cave I want to find. They just excavated it. It’s supposed to be really fantastic.” He started to move forward.

Catherine hesitated, casting about for an excuse not to go farther. After all why
shouldn’t
they go exploring? Larry was enjoying it. If that was what it took to make him happy, she would become the world’s greatest—what was the word?—spelunker.

Larry had stopped and was waiting for her. “Coming?” he asked impatiently.

She tried to sound enthusiastic. “Yes. Just don’t lose me,” she said.

Larry did not reply. They took the fork that branched to the left and began walking, careful of the small stones that slipped under their feet. Larry reached into his pocket, and a moment later Catherine heard something fall to the ground. Larry kept walking.

“Did you drop something?” Catherine asked. “I thought I heard—”

“I kicked a stone,” he said. “Let’s walk faster.” And they moved ahead, Catherine unaware that behind them a ball of twine was unwinding.

The ceiling of the cave seemed to be lower here and the walls damper and—Catherine laughed at herself for thinking it—ominous. It was as though the tunnel was beginning to close in on them, threatening and maleficent. “I don’t think this place likes us,” Catherine said.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Cathy; it’s just a cave.”

“Why do you suppose we’re the only ones here?”

Larry hesitated. “Not many people know about this section.”

They walked on and on until Catherine began to lose all sense of time and place.

The passage was narrowing again, and the rocks on the sides tore at them with sharp, unexpected protuberances.

“How much farther do you think it is?” Catherine asked. “We must be getting near China.”

“It’s not far now.”

When they spoke, their voices sounded muffled and hollow, like a series of continuous dying echoes.

It was getting cold now, but it was a damp, clammy cold. Catherine shivered. Ahead the beam of the flashlight caught another bifurcation of the passage. They walked up to it and stopped. The tunnel running to the right seemed smaller than the one to the left.

“They should put up neon road signs,” Catherine said. “We’ve probably gone too far.”

“No,” Larry said. “I’m sure it’s the one on the right.”

“I’m really getting chilly, darling,” she said. “Let’s go back now.”

He turned to look at her. “We’re almost there, Cathy.” He squeezed her arm. “I’ll warm you up when we get back to our bungalow.” He saw the reluctance
on her face. “I’ll tell you what—if we haven’t found the place in the next two minutes, we’ll turn around and go home. OK?”

Catherine felt her heart lighten. “OK,” she said thankfully.

“Come on.”

They turned down the tunnel to the right, the beam of the flashlight making an eerie, wavering pattern on the gray rock ahead. Catherine glanced back over her shoulder and behind her was complete blackness. It was as though the little flashlight was carving brightness out of the Stygian gloom, moving it forward a few feet at a time, encapsulating them in its tiny womb of light. Larry stopped suddenly.

“Damn!” he said.

“What’s the matter?”

“I think we took the wrong turn back there.”

Catherine nodded. “All right. Let’s go back.”

“Let me make sure. You stay here.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Where are you going?”

“Just a few feet. Back to that entrance.” His voice sounded strained and unnatural.

“I’ll come with you.”

“I can do it faster alone, Catherine. I just want to check the fork where we made the last turn.” He sounded impatient. “I’ll be back in ten seconds.”

“All right,” she said, uneasily.

Catherine stood there watching as Larry turned away from her and walked back into the dark from which they had come, enclosed in a halo of light like a moving angel in the bowels of the earth. A moment later the light disappeared, and she was plunged into the deepest blackness she had ever known. She stood there, shivering, counting off the seconds in her mind. And then the minutes.

Larry did not return.

Catherine waited, feeling the blackness lapping
around her like malicious invisible waves. She called out, “Larry?” and her voice was hoarse and uncertain, and she cleared her throat and tried again louder. “Larry?” She could hear the sound dying a few feet away from her, murdered by the darkness. It was as though nothing could live in this place, and Catherine began to feel the first tendrils of terror.
Of course Larry will be right back
, she told herself.
All I have to do is stay where I am and remain calm
.

The black minutes dragged by, and she began to face the fact that something had gone terribly wrong. Larry could have had an accident, he could have slipped on the loose stones and hit his head on the sharp sides of the cave. Perhaps at this moment he was lying just a few feet away from her, bleeding to death. Or perhaps he was lost. His flashlight could have gone out and he might be somewhere in the bowels of this cave trapped, as she was trapped.

A feeling of suffocation began to close in on Catherine, choking her, filling her with a mindless panic. She turned and began to walk slowly in the direction from which she had come. The tunnel was narrow, and if Larry was lying on the ground, helpless and hurt, she had a good chance of finding him. Soon she would come to the place where the passage had divided. She moved cautiously, the loose stones rolling beneath her feet. She thought she heard a distant sound and stopped to listen. Larry? It was gone, and she began to move again, and then she heard it once more. It was a whirring sound, as though someone were running a tape recorder. There
was
someone down here!

Catherine yelled aloud and then listened as the sound of her voice drowned in the silence. There it was again! The whirring noise. It was coming this way. It grew louder, racing toward her in a great screaming rush of wind. It was getting closer and closer. Suddenly it leaped on her in the dark; cold and clammy skin brushed against her cheeks and kissed her lips and she felt something crawling on her head and sharp claws in
her hair and her face was smothered by the mad beating of wings of some nameless horror attacking her in the blackness.