Read Online Blind Descent-pigeion 6 by Nevada Barr - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nevada Barr
Tags: Fiction, General, detective, Suspense, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery, Mystery Fiction, Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, Fiction - Mystery, Crime & mystery, Mystery & Detective - Series, Crime thriller, Pigeon; Anna (Fictitious character), Women park rangers, Carlsbad Caverns National Park (N.M.), Carlsbad (N.M.), Lechuguilla Cave (N.M.)
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Frieda's pupils. Equal and reactive. No battle signs showed behind the ears. No fluids leaked from ears or nostrils, and the flesh around her eyes was not discolored. McCarty would have looked at all this, Anna reminded herself; still, she checked.
Frieda's gaze skimmed across her face and wandered to the impossible darkness above. "Thirsty," she said. Anna fed her sips of water, scared to lift her head lest there was a neck injury, scared of choking her to death if she didn't.
"Stay with me, Frieda. I came all this way. Don't leave me now," Anna pleaded. "I'm not leaving you."
Frieda's hand closed convulsively on Anna's tee-shirt, bunching the fabric tight around her ribs. "It wasn't an accident," she said clearly.
"What? What wasn't an accident?" Anna demanded.
"Lily pads ruined," she whispered, and Anna could see that reason had fled.
"Frieda," she begged, but the woman's eyes closed. Anna resisted a cruel urge to shake her.
Not an accident.
Marble clouds, dog vomit, and lily pads: Frieda was delirious. It didn't take Freud to figure that out. But there'd been a moment's clarity. And a reason Frieda had asked for a friend, a noncaver friend from outside.
Anna sat back, traced her finger of light over the feet of her companions. "God, but this sucks," she muttered. Curling herself around Frieda like a Viking's dog on his master's funeral ship, Anna laid her head down once more. If anyone wanted to get to Dierkz, they would have to tread on some part of Anna's anatomy to do it. It was all she could do till morning.
Morning was two days away.
4
The next time Anna was dragged from sleep, the effect was not so jarring. People were on the move. A lantern pushed back the dark walls until the camp seemed almost spacious. Voices softened the sepulchral stillness, and there was the smell of coffee. The odor was weak, the brew undoubtedly instant, but it was enough to stir Anna's sluggish mind.
Lying motionless, she watched the wakening camp. This far from the sun, all was shrouded. Shadows claimed more than light, and light cloaked as often as it revealed. Focus flickered, changeable as candle flames, as a lamp caught one plane, then another, lopping off a nose with moving shadow, sparking an eye bright as opal. Colors were fired and quenched, leaving comet trails on the retina as they passed. Beams sought out sudden horizons at varying distances, and the cavern appeared to be expanding and contracting; an uncertain and secretive world, more hidden than would ever be told.
Anna fantasized about bringing great mercury-vapor lamps in and cranking up the wattage. The movie Interview with the Vampire had given her a similar feeling, though to a much lesser degree. She needed to see the sun rise.
Rolling onto her side, she realized that while she slept someone had spread a space blanket over her to keep off the chill. Fear had lain down with her, and at this sign of interference, she instinctively reached for a weapon. The reflex was a mere flick of her hand, aborted before her hand had moved even a finger's width. Here she was not a law enforcement ranger. Her assignment had been quite specific. Ladies in-waiting didn't customarily go heavily armed. Anna was without so much as a hat pin.
Remembering her nocturnal exchange with Frieda, she wondered how much danger there was. What was delirium and what was the truth? That, too, was wrapped in shadow. She looked over at her friend. Frieda's eyes were closed. If she slept, Anna didn't want to disturb her. She lay a bit longer, taking advantage of the extended night to see what fellows she had fallen in amongst.
Holden, Oscar, and Peter McCarty were huddled around a single lamp, heads low and close, fannies in the air. Anna guessed they were going over surveys of the cave, discussing the care of Frieda as she was subjected to the rigors of her rescue.
A big man, his face lost in darkness, stood a few feet behind them,
Frieda's gaze skimmed across her face and wandered to the impossible darkness above. "Thirsty," she said. Anna fed her sips of water, scared to lift her head lest there was a neck injury, scared of choking her to death if she didn't.
"Stay with me, Frieda. I came all this way. Don't leave me now," Anna pleaded. "I'm not leaving you."
Frieda's hand closed convulsively on Anna's tee-shirt, bunching the fabric tight around her ribs. "It wasn't an accident," she said clearly.
"What? What wasn't an accident?" Anna demanded.
"Lily pads ruined," she whispered, and Anna could see that reason had fled.
"Frieda," she begged, but the woman's eyes closed. Anna resisted a cruel urge to shake her.
Not an accident.
Marble clouds, dog vomit, and lily pads: Frieda was delirious. It didn't take Freud to figure that out. But there'd been a moment's clarity. And a reason Frieda had asked for a friend, a noncaver friend from outside.
Anna sat back, traced her finger of light over the feet of her companions. "God, but this sucks," she muttered. Curling herself around Frieda like a Viking's dog on his master's funeral ship, Anna laid her head down once more. If anyone wanted to get to Dierkz, they would have to tread on some part of Anna's anatomy to do it. It was all she could do till morning.
Morning was two days away.
4
The next time Anna was dragged from sleep, the effect was not so jarring. People were on the move. A lantern pushed back the dark walls until the camp seemed almost spacious. Voices softened the sepulchral stillness, and there was the smell of coffee. The odor was weak, the brew undoubtedly instant, but it was enough to stir Anna's sluggish mind.
Lying motionless, she watched the wakening camp. This far from the sun, all was shrouded. Shadows claimed more than light, and light cloaked as often as it revealed. Focus flickered, changeable as candle flames, as a lamp caught one plane, then another, lopping off a nose with moving shadow, sparking an eye bright as opal. Colors were fired and quenched, leaving comet trails on the retina as they passed. Beams sought out sudden horizons at varying distances, and the cavern appeared to be expanding and contracting; an uncertain and secretive world, more hidden than would ever be told.
Anna fantasized about bringing great mercury-vapor lamps in and cranking up the wattage. The movie Interview with the Vampire had given her a similar feeling, though to a much lesser degree. She needed to see the sun rise.
Rolling onto her side, she realized that while she slept someone had spread a space blanket over her to keep off the chill. Fear had lain down with her, and at this sign of interference, she instinctively reached for a weapon. The reflex was a mere flick of her hand, aborted before her hand had moved even a finger's width. Here she was not a law enforcement ranger. Her assignment had been quite specific. Ladies in-waiting didn't customarily go heavily armed. Anna was without so much as a hat pin.
Remembering her nocturnal exchange with Frieda, she wondered how much danger there was. What was delirium and what was the truth? That, too, was wrapped in shadow. She looked over at her friend. Frieda's eyes were closed. If she slept, Anna didn't want to disturb her. She lay a bit longer, taking advantage of the extended night to see what fellows she had fallen in amongst.
Holden, Oscar, and Peter McCarty were huddled around a single lamp, heads low and close, fannies in the air. Anna guessed they were going over surveys of the cave, discussing the care of Frieda as she was subjected to the rigors of her rescue.
A big man, his face lost in darkness, stood a few feet behind them,
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