Page 85 of Rock Bottom

The water was rising faster with every passing minute, pushing me toward the rocky ceiling. Despite the pain in my foot, I forced my way along the narrow, flooded passageway against the flow of water, hoping I had gone in the right direction. There was no sign of Oscar. He must’ve gotten swept away by the current. Whatever happened to him, I hoped it was quick.

Gritting my teeth, I threw my arm forward, grasping the next outcropping of rock. My fingers slipped, and I nearly lost my grip. Water splashed as I fought to get both hands back on the wall. It was up to my chest now, and my head brushed against the rocky ceiling. In an hour or two, the entire cavern might be under water.

I thought about trying to swim out, but the current was too strong. I wasn’t strong enough of a swimmer to fight it, and the mine shafts were pitch black. The only light I had was the dim glow of my waterproof smart watch, but I didn’t want to waste the battery. It was my only chance of being found.

I fumbled to tap the light so I could get a quick view of my surroundings. The cavern yawned ahead, black as night, with no signs of daylight. The ceiling dipped down ahead with barely an inch of air at the top. Fuck. I had seconds before the light went back out to memorize a series of handholds along the way. In the dark, they were harder to find, but I’d managed so far.

I grabbed for the next one just as the light went out. Sharp rock bit into my palms and I winced. My hands and knees were both raw and bloody from scraping against the rock, and every time I jostled my ankle, it sent a nauseating wave of pain up my leg, but I pressed on. I could do it. I had to. If Church could survive all the terrible things that’d happened to him, I could endure a little cold water and some scrapes.

One hand over the other, inch by inch, I advanced without even knowing if I was going the right way. I missed my next grab and my hand came down in the water, which was much closer to the ceiling than I thought. Something brushed against my leg and I jumped away with a shout, bumping my injured ankle in the process. The water surged, and I suddenly lost my grip on the wall completely, tumbling backward in ice-cold, pitch-black water.

I threw a hand out, and it dragged over sharp rocks, opening another cut, but it also gave me a handhold. I threw myself against the wall and clawed my way up. At least, I hoped it was up. I wasn’t sure until I broke through the surface to greedily gulp in the dank air.

With trembling fingers, I hit the flashlight on my watch and looked around. Wherever the water had taken me, it didn’t look familiar. It was impossible to tell if that was because I’d shot down one of dozens of side shafts in the mine, or if it was just because everything looked the same down there.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. Oxygen would be limited in such a tight space. I had no idea how much I had left, but I needed to preserve it by staying calm. But I was running out of strength and willpower. The blood coating my hands was making it more difficult to grab the rocks. If I didn’t come up with something else and fast, I was going to die down there.

So I did the only thing I could think of while facing down near certain death. I sang the first thing that came to mind, which was the song I’d been working on ever since I’d left L.A. It was unfinished, and my voice was rough from swallowing too much dirty cave water, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter when I tripped over the parts of the song I hadn’t finished writing yet or backed up to try a new version of the verse because no one was around. It didn’t even matter if I sang nonsense. All that mattered was singing loudly, projecting my voice in the hopes that someone, somewhere was looking for me nearby.

I don’t know how long I clung to the cave wall with bloody palms, singing my heart out, but it was long enough the water rose to my neck. I was running out of time, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. Church was coming. I just had to hold on.

The first sign that I wasn’t alone in the flooded mine was a distant splashing sound. I thought at first that something in the mine had given way and more water was flooding the chamber where I was trapped. As the sound got closer though, I was able to hear something else: barking, and behind it, voices.

I broke off the song and shouted at the top of my lungs, “I’m here! I’m right here! This way!”

The sound of sloshing water got louder, and I was hit with a surge of energy that I used to propel myself toward it.

“Stop moving!” came Church’s shout echoing through the mine. “Keep singing! We’ll come to you!”

Staying where I was and belting out a song was the most difficult thing I thought I’d ever done. All I wanted to do was rush toward him, throw my arms around him and let him carry me out of that God-forsaken place, but he was right. With the way sound bounced around in there, the direction I thought his voice was coming from might not be it at all.

When I saw the light ahead, my voice got shaky, and when—finally—Church swam into view, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I pushed away from the wall and fought the current to swim straight to him. He put his arms around me and I broke, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Church murmured, squeezing me with one arm. His other was firmly gripping a nylon rope that trailed into the dark behind him. “You’re safe now. I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

I nodded against his chest, clinging to him desperately while Bowie swam up. They secured another rope around my waist, attaching me to Church.

“Hold on to me,” Church instructed. “The rope is secure, but don’t let go.”

“Never,” I promised, and held on tight.

I was too terrified and exhausted to say much of anything else as Bowie and Church followed the bright pink line of nylon back through the mine. It took all my strength just to hold on and stay awake, despite the icy water lapping at my body. Gradually, the water got shallower until it was just puddles on the muddy dirt floor. Church scooped me up and carried me in his arms the last few yards. When I saw shafts of light coming into the mine, I broke down sobbing again.

Dogs barked and people cheered as we finally made our way out of the mine. I looked up long enough to recognize the faces of the other Junkyard Dogs present. They spoke to me, but everything was too much of a blur.

At some point, we reached a stretcher and Church had a short argument with someone in an EMT uniform about handing me over. “You can have him over my dead body.”

“He needs to be treated, sir,” the EMT argued.

“It’s all right.” I squeezed my arms tightly around Church’s neck.

He hesitated before gently putting me down on the stretcher. “All right, but I’m coming with you.”

While the EMTs worked to get me strapped in to be transported down to wherever they had their ambulance, Church never let go of my hand. “That was a smart thing you did, leaving your cell phone behind so we could track your watch,” he said.

I tried to swallow, but my throat was all dry and scratchy. “I wasn’t sure you’d find me in time.”

“I almost didn’t.” He bent down to kiss the top of my head. “And now that I’ve got you back, I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again.”

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