STORM: The Black Sphere

Gaia gripped her board tight against her chest. There in front of them was the river. The water frothed as it thundered past, then vanished into a jagged black hole in the side of the mountain.

Dirk’s warnings echoed in her mind. She wasn’t sure now if it was better or worse to know what lay ahead. But they had no choice. She nodded.

Cold. The air rushed, pummeling Gaia’s face. Spray blasted into her eyes. Icy water flooded her wet suit. She hurtled into blackness, fear ripping through her. She could hear her own breathing, her pulse in her ears. The flashlight in her helmet shone brightly, but she was moving so fast she couldn’t get a fix on anything. She glanced up. Registered a slimy arc of black roof—and then, ahead, a boulder, half blocking the channel. The boulder! Dirk had marked it!

A third of a mile in, before the first right-hand fork and before the cavern. There was just enough room for a person to slip past. As she hurtled forward, Gaia suddenly leaned hard to the right, re-angling the nose of her board. She kicked. Her foot caught the wall. Her ankle scraped rock. But she was at the boulder. And she was through!

The current blasted her forward. Gaia angled down, the water rushing into her face. She blinked hard and glanced back quickly. She saw a yellow light flash on the roof. Then another. Will and Andrew. They were still with her.

Any second now, she should see the first fork in the tunnel. She gripped tight to the handles and kept her body weight just to the right-hand side of the board. Not so far that she’d unbalance herself—just enough to keep her on course.

The tunnel was wider here, nine feet across. Gaia’s eyes strained. The air seemed stale. She coughed. And there it was—her one-watt flashlight showed the river splitting into two. The water crashed repeatedly up against the junction of the two channels. Above the din, she heard a cry.

Andrew was whooping? Gaia wanted to yell at him to focus, but there was no time. She bounced violently over the water. It was so icy, she could hardly feel her fingers anymore. She swiveled her body, and her board rocked dangerously. Hold on, she told herself. Hold on. And there was the split. She leaned hard—and raced, skidding over the water, on track!

No time for relief. Gaia’s blood pounded in waves. Concentrate, she told herself. Picture that map. In five seconds, they’d take a second right-hand fork and enter a high cavern. Then the roof would close in as the river raged on.

Will’s board bounced relentlessly. It jarred his skull, making his vision blurry. But he had to keep his eyes on Gaia. Three seconds ago, they’d shot along the second right-hand fork. Will had seen the light of her flashlight flicker and disappear, then reappear as he sped on after it. Now from behind him, Will could hear Andrew, still shouting with excitement.

“Andrew!” Will yelled. “Shut up!” Andrew probably couldn’t hear. But it made Will feel better. Then suddenly he gasped. Ice water had breached his float and washed over his face. He spluttered and blinked hard. When his vision cleared, he saw the roof was dipping. He was about to collide with the wall! Will flinched. His knee hit rock. He prepared himself for pain. But the liquid between those seven layers of Kevlar in his armor had reacted at once, forming a solid barrier. He’d whacked his kneecap, but it was only stunned, not gashed. In the darkness, Will smiled. It worked. His device worked!

“I’ve got your glasses!” Will yelled back. They were in one of Elke’s plastic boxes, hanging with the roaches from his belt. The drugs must be wearing off. “Hold on, Andrew. It’s all right!”

He looked ahead and saw Gaia’s light jerk. Any second now, the tunnel should open up. “You’re all right, Andrew.” Will shouted over the roar, “Hold on!”

The channel began to widen. The current slowed. The water no longer rushed so wildly over his board. They had to be entering the cavern.

Gradually, the roof started to rise. Will jerked his flashlight, trying to build up a picture of his surroundings. The beam caught a flash of something pale. Will tried to keep it steady. He stared. It was a stalactite! And another. They were bristling. Hundreds of them, glimmering in the flicker of his flashlight.

Will’s breathing came fast—from excitement now, not fear. They could be the first people to see this in decades! His eyes ran over the walls. Moisture glistened.

They were moving slowly now. The current swept him gently forward. It was almost like being on a fairground ride. Except that these sights were real—like the danger.

Will peered ahead. According to Dirk’s map, the cavern was about 150 feet long. They had to be close to the other end. Will glanced back. “Andrew, are you okay?”

The current nudged the edge of his board. The river was beginning to pick up speed again. Will heard a rushing noise. Getting louder. White water. Raging. Will’s heart raced. He called back: “Andrew, hold tight—” Suddenly, Will’s board dipped and he bounced up. His head hit rock. There was a crunching sound. His flashlight.

Will plunged into darkness. The walls closed in. A jag of rock caught his board. It spun him hard. The force tore his right hand away from the handle. His arm flailed in the blackness. He started to roll. He was on his side. Water rushed over his face. He gasped. Panic started to pulse through his veins. He had to find that handle. He had to pull himself back—

Again, the board ricocheted off rock. Above the rush of the water, Will could hear Andrew yelling. He made out a jerking glimmer ahead. Gaia’s flashlight. Will was back on his side. He was about to go under. Reach, he told himself. Reach.

He clenched his fists and threw himself forward, stretching for the handle. He touched plastic. Fumbled. Coughed as river water sloshed into his lungs. He reached again. He felt the rope. But just as his fingers gripped the handle, the channel dropped, and Will with it.