possibilities of bringing in a film crew and taping a special for the network.
Free me.
She froze and stared at the small body. Free it? No, she still got the sense that the voice was coming through the stone, not from one of the coffins.
Free me.
The words were no louder than they’d been before, so she had no way of knowing if she was closer to her mysterious goal.
“We could take the artifacts, some of them at least,” Zakkarat suggested. “Maybe we should take the child’s body, Annjacreed.”
Annja shook her head. “We don’t have the means to do it properly. Everything needs to be recorded and—”
Free me.
Free who? she wanted to shout. Free who? And free you from what? Free the Hoabinhiam spirits? The spirits in the lime?
“Annja, we need to get out of here!” Luartaro gestured behind them. “We need to get out of here right now.” The water had risen to cover the edge of the shelf. “This isn’t good. The water’s moving fast. Not good at all. Come on.”
He stepped off the shelf into water up to his thighs. He held the lantern high. “Annja! Zakkarat, we have to move!”
She took a dozen more pictures in rapid succession and reluctantly placed the camera in the plastic. She clutched it tight and jumped into the water.
Zakkarat slogged toward the opposite passage. “Do not thank me for getting us lost, Annjacreed. We could well drown here, and no one will find our bodies. We will be like those ancient corpses.”
The water was up to her hips by the time she followed Luartaro and Zakkarat into the next corridor.
She paused in the entry to look back at the coffins, picturing the precious mummies floating away, being sucked under the dark, swirling water. Then she shook herself. She was more worried about the ancient remains than herself and her companions!
As she forced herself to turn away, she whispered, “The loss of history.” Her throat went dry. “The terrible, terrible loss.”
5
Annja was growing more anxious. She held her camera high over her head as she shoved herself forward in the swirling water. The water was at her armpits now, and the current had picked up speed and strength.
Luartaro sloshed along ahead of her, also straining to move faster in the rising water.
Light from the lantern he carried was both bright and eerie in the enclosed space. The walls were close and the ceiling had dropped from where they had first entered. It was only a few feet above her head.
As the lantern light rippled over them, some of the bats hanging from the ceiling squeaked an agitated protest and some of them flew away.
“We will drown,” Zakkarat said. “I was wrong to bring you out here with all this rain. The baht, I wanted the baht. My wife, she will not know. They will find the Jeep, but not our bodies and—”
“I don’t need to hear this kind of talk,” Luartaro cautioned. “And you don’t need to be thinking such things. We are getting out of here, Zakkarat. Just stay quiet and stay near, all right? I’ll lead us to safety.”
Zakkarat didn’t reply, but he did increase his pace.
Annja did, too, peering around their guide to watch Luartaro’s inky silhouette. He held the lantern high to illuminate the area directly in front of him.
Roux would like him, she decided. He would like Luartaro’s athletic, unwavering ease and his determined voice filled with feigned bravado. And Roux might understand why she so impetuously decided to vacation in Thailand with the Argentine archaeologist.
She wanted to find a way out of this cave and meet up with Roux again and tell him about her inane adventures. And she wanted to see so many other things in this world, including a long list of caves. And so many countries. And many, many digs and many sites, both large and small. Her “bucket list” was endless.
Free me.
She also wanted to find the source of the voice in her head.
The water was to her shoulders. It pulled at her clothes and the backpack and rope over her
Free me.
She froze and stared at the small body. Free it? No, she still got the sense that the voice was coming through the stone, not from one of the coffins.
Free me.
The words were no louder than they’d been before, so she had no way of knowing if she was closer to her mysterious goal.
“We could take the artifacts, some of them at least,” Zakkarat suggested. “Maybe we should take the child’s body, Annjacreed.”
Annja shook her head. “We don’t have the means to do it properly. Everything needs to be recorded and—”
Free me.
Free who? she wanted to shout. Free who? And free you from what? Free the Hoabinhiam spirits? The spirits in the lime?
“Annja, we need to get out of here!” Luartaro gestured behind them. “We need to get out of here right now.” The water had risen to cover the edge of the shelf. “This isn’t good. The water’s moving fast. Not good at all. Come on.”
He stepped off the shelf into water up to his thighs. He held the lantern high. “Annja! Zakkarat, we have to move!”
She took a dozen more pictures in rapid succession and reluctantly placed the camera in the plastic. She clutched it tight and jumped into the water.
Zakkarat slogged toward the opposite passage. “Do not thank me for getting us lost, Annjacreed. We could well drown here, and no one will find our bodies. We will be like those ancient corpses.”
The water was up to her hips by the time she followed Luartaro and Zakkarat into the next corridor.
She paused in the entry to look back at the coffins, picturing the precious mummies floating away, being sucked under the dark, swirling water. Then she shook herself. She was more worried about the ancient remains than herself and her companions!
As she forced herself to turn away, she whispered, “The loss of history.” Her throat went dry. “The terrible, terrible loss.”
5
Annja was growing more anxious. She held her camera high over her head as she shoved herself forward in the swirling water. The water was at her armpits now, and the current had picked up speed and strength.
Luartaro sloshed along ahead of her, also straining to move faster in the rising water.
Light from the lantern he carried was both bright and eerie in the enclosed space. The walls were close and the ceiling had dropped from where they had first entered. It was only a few feet above her head.
As the lantern light rippled over them, some of the bats hanging from the ceiling squeaked an agitated protest and some of them flew away.
“We will drown,” Zakkarat said. “I was wrong to bring you out here with all this rain. The baht, I wanted the baht. My wife, she will not know. They will find the Jeep, but not our bodies and—”
“I don’t need to hear this kind of talk,” Luartaro cautioned. “And you don’t need to be thinking such things. We are getting out of here, Zakkarat. Just stay quiet and stay near, all right? I’ll lead us to safety.”
Zakkarat didn’t reply, but he did increase his pace.
Annja did, too, peering around their guide to watch Luartaro’s inky silhouette. He held the lantern high to illuminate the area directly in front of him.
Roux would like him, she decided. He would like Luartaro’s athletic, unwavering ease and his determined voice filled with feigned bravado. And Roux might understand why she so impetuously decided to vacation in Thailand with the Argentine archaeologist.
She wanted to find a way out of this cave and meet up with Roux again and tell him about her inane adventures. And she wanted to see so many other things in this world, including a long list of caves. And so many countries. And many, many digs and many sites, both large and small. Her “bucket list” was endless.
Free me.
She also wanted to find the source of the voice in her head.
The water was to her shoulders. It pulled at her clothes and the backpack and rope over her
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