|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Only one," I admitted, "the obvious one. Scale down from behind the house." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"You know how to do that?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Not me," I protested. "I don't do caves and I don't do scaling. I leave that to the younger, more adventurous types." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"It would be difficult," Kelto interrupted. "When you're standing on the west wall, you can't determine which ones only go back a few feet and which ones snake back in for some distance." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I decided it was time to do more than just voice a passing objection to Madden's fastforming plan. "Wait a minute, Jake, I know what you're thinking. You're talking about lowering someone some thirty feet down a sheer wall into a foggy inlet and looking for a cave that: may or may not contain flesh-eating things that we know bullets don't stop. Think about that before you push this any farther." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Madden, still studying the map, grunted. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Besides," I added, "we're not certain they're even down there." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"But you think they are," he insisted. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
He had me. At this point I was convinced of it. "Yes," I admitted. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Jake hoisted his bulky frame up over the edge of a nearby table and allowed the scowl to erode into a half-grin. He finished off his coffee and plunked the empty cup down on the table beside him. "I think they're down there, too," he admitted, "and |
|
|
|
|
|