Devil's Spring

Devil's Spring

"Yeah, and have you got any Salt and Vinegar Pringles?" Zammo asked the
gas station cashier, placing an armful of chocolate bars and bottles of
Coca-Cola on the counter.
She didn't answer him immediately but stared at him for a few moments
with a vacant look. Zammo rubbed at his nose, "You know, Salt &;
Vinegar?"
Her eyes fluttered and she said dreamily, "Oh&;#8230;. You're from
England."
Zammo looked at her, his mouth dropping open a little; "Er, yeah. Salt
&; Vinegar pringles&;#8230;. I can see you have the Sour Cream
and the Paprika&;#8230; actually the tubes are different
colours&;#8230;I was wondering if you had Salt &; Vinegar."
Her face crumpled up with confusion, she leaned forward turning her
head to look at the shelf of Pringles he was pointing at.
"Really?"
Zammo drilled his eyes into her and frowned hard; "I guess you don't
have them then."
"No?" She laughed them, tossing her hair a little bit as she smiled at
him.
Ohhh-for-flipping&;#8230;.his mind groaned, When is her brother
gonna come out strumming on a one-string banjo?
"Are you all from England?" Looking out at the jeep on the forecourt;
her tone was slow astonishment.
"Yep!" Zammo got energetic, wanting just to get out of there; he
pushed the chocolates and bottles toward her as a prompt to say: I want
to get moving. He grinned and waved an arm toward the jeep. "There's
Carice and Josh&;#8230;Carice is sexy but utterly No-Go and Josh is
a dude. I'm Zammo. Can I pay now."
"Oh sure." She giggled and began running the items across the scanner.
"What's all that stuff on top of your jeep? Are you camping?"
Zammo pulled one side of his mouth toward his cheek; "Errrrrm, not
quite, we're base jumping."
She ran a few more items across the scanner, silent, her eyes focussed
on some unknown point as she apparently contemplated what he had just
told her.
"Is that&;#8230;is that&;#8230;. is that?" She struggled.
"It's where you strap on a parachute and jump off a large rock or a
building. Total rush. Micro-second freefall and boom." He stopped
himself from getting carried away.
She looked at him strangely. "Why would you want to do that for?
Sounds like it could be dangerous!"
Zammo smiled then, handing her a twenty dollar bill; "That my dearest
Morlock is the point!"
She handed him the change; as he went through the door she called
after him, "You have a nice day now."
"I will!" He called back over his shoulder, then trudged over to the
jeep pulling a heavy face so that the others were laughing when he
climbed into the backseat.
Carice gave him one of those side-long looks she always did with her
chin tucked in; "What's wrong with you?"
Zammo shook his head with an exagerated shudder; "Unnnnn- I think
we're in the Twilight Zone, they've never heard of Salt &; Vinegar
around here."
Josh piped up from the passenger seat, using a mock red-neck accent;
"You're not from round these parts, are you son?"
Everyone chuckled.
Zammo pushed himself forward between the two seats and handed out
chocolates into Josh and Carice's laps. "So! Are we gonna do it or
what!"
Carice picked up the Baby Ruth bars and Butter Fingers and dropped
them into Josh's lap. "I don't know&;#8230;."
Josh grabbed at the chocolates to keep them from falling off his lap,
laughing he exclaimed, "Hey so what is it I'm the one who's gonna be
getting fat around here!"
Zammo nudged Carice on her upper arm, "Come on!" He whined. "We're out
here for two weeks&;#8230;.we can spend one day checking it
out."
"Yes&;#8230;and it could be just bullshit Zammo&;#8230;and we'll
have wasted a day plus the petrol getting there."
Zammo grinned, "Ahhh, but if its not bullshit we're looking at Primo
Donna rush city - come on!"
Josh tore the wrapper off a Snickers bar with his teeth; then said,
"Besides, petrol is so cheap&;#8230;we can't loose."
Carice gave Josh a look of feigned outrage; "And when did you take
sides?"
Josh grinned around a mouthful of nougat, peanuts and caramel, "When
he slipped me fifty quid when you were off&;#8230;..powdering your
nose."
Zammo nodded in affirmation, and righteously proclaimed, "And woman's
weakness strikes her down in flames."
"Excuse me you little runt!" Carice squealed, twisting around in her
seat to glare at him.
Zammo flopped back, lifted up his hands in an shrug and let then flop;
"What can I say&;#8230;the Great Goddess made you in her
image&;#8230;..and that image needs to be touched up every few
minutes."
Carice squinted an evil look at him, twisted back into her seat and
gunned the jeep back into life. "Men."
"Women!" Zammo yelled happily.
Carice grinned, shaking her head; "Okay. So&;#8230;which
way?"
Josh pulled himself up into a proper seating position and pulled out
the road map they had been using, "Are we doing Zammo's thing?"
Carice wiggled her shoulders, "I guess we are."
Zammo made a sound of laddish victory.
Josh chuckled, "Okay m'lady&;#8230;.take a sharp left and I will
guide thee, onward, to lands of adrenaline and fast-paced fun."

Zammo: 23 years old, five foot-six, bony and bad skinned.; over-sized
eyes bulging out from deep sockets ringed with shadows. Long blonde
hair hanging in a lank curtain, cheap gel holding it back from his
face. An IT contractor working for an insurance company.
[London cool]

Josh: 28 years old, five foot-eleven, broad shouldered, muscular
physique now loosing definition with danger of turning to flab. Dark
hair cut short around a square face; browns eyes blessed with a
perpetually cheeky glint. An IT contractor working for a government
transport agency.
[Northumbria]

Carice: 25 years old, five foot-five, slender, naturally attractive but
reliant on make-up. Long blonde-hair normally held up with colourful
clips; urban chique. Zammo and Josh's recruitment consultant.
[London media darling]

The jeep rocked violently from side to side as they pulled off the road
onto the remains of an old dirt track; the track appeared to have been
dug up and left to ruin to dissuade anything without off-road
capability from venturing onto it.
Zammo clung onto the ceiling straps one either side as he was shaken
around like a chimpanzee in a cage. "Holy shit." Laughing.
Carice had an intense frown on her face as she drove; nosing the car
through dense woodland, sticking to the remains of the track.
"I hope our gear doesn't get shaken off." Josh said through grunts and
gasps, using his feet against the dashboard to secure himself into the
seat.
"This-" Zammo began to speak but was stunned into silence as the jeep
slammed down.
Josh pointed at something, "There&;#8230;.shit&;#8230;.Zammo you
were right, man. There's a house."
Zammo made an incomprehensible sound; pretending he was unable to
speak.
Carice kept the speed low and managed to bring the jeep through the
trees into a small clearing that must have once been a garden.
"Looks like this might be a real deal." Josh exclaimed, peering up at
the derelict building they were approaching. He had been reserving
judgement on Zammo; the guy was young, acted young, and had so far not
installed any confidence in him with regards to risking his own life
jumping from a bridge, or a cliff.
Josh had never performed a base jump before; he had done a number of
sky-dives but did not consider himself qualified to make that
three-second leap. His main passion was scuba diving, and the sole
reason he had pushed Carice into taking a gamble on Zammo's idea to
find this place was the mention of the deep lake that supposedly
existed.
The building was two stories of cut stone; dull architecture creating
the impression of a drab cube. There were light woods to the East
leading to a steep ridge; the rest of the property were an unmanaged
tangle of weeds and wild grass. The door and every window were boarded
up. There were heavy duty yellow warning signs nailed to most of
these.
Josh popped open the door on his side and climbed out into the
clearing; wrinkling his nose as he sniffed at the air, his senses
strangely alert. The sky was indigo banded with deep turquoise; the sun
had already slipped behind some Westerly prominence bringing an
immediate chill to the air.
There was a feeling about this place, he began to realise, aware of
the solid silence clamped down them.
Any further contemplation ended as Carice opened her door and Zammo
followed her out; both of them making the noises friends make when
being playful with each other. Josh became involved in the banter; they
trudged across the broken ground to examine the house.
"I can't believe how depressing this place is." Carice said, peering
through a gap in the boards over a window, her perfectly glossed lips
curling up at the view.
Josh was reading one of the signs, all of them identical: ACCESS
PROHIBITED, PENALTY FINE &; IMPRISONMENT - FEDERAL MANDATE
27000187/J
"These signs look pretty new." Zammo said.
"I know." Josh agreed; bothered by this.
"Well it's too late in the day to look for this place now." Carice
stated.
Zammo stepped away from the building, "What do you suggest?" He
glanced around then looked right at her.
Josh tugged at the boards covering one of the windows; it was one-inch
timber nailed tight into the stone-work; "Fucking hell," he muttered,
"Somebody sure doesn't want anybody getting inside this place."
Carice said, "We can bring the gear off the jeep; two of us can sleep
inside, one person on the roof."
Zammo's brow creased up as he let out a derisive sound, pure London;
"You're having a laugh! I'm not gonna lie twisted up like Quazimodo in
a bucket seat."
"Well what do you suggest, sweetie." Her anger flaring.
Josh was in no mood to listen to one of Carice's temper tantrums; he
turned to them and said, "There's are tools in the jeep. If I can get
through these boards, we'll use the house as camp." He walked over to
the dug up road behind the jeep, studied the ground; "There's no tyre
tracks so I reckon they don't partrol this place. Should be safe, as
long as we don't make too much noise."
Carice let her hands flop: resigned agreement from her.
Zammo grinned, strode over to the jeep, saying, "I reckon our magick
cliff is beyond that ridge over there."
Josh paused to push his gaze into the woods, slowly lifting his eyes
to the steep ridge. He made a guess it was about three hundred metres
from the house. Shadows were rolling in fast. "Yeah&;#8230; maybe."
That wary feeling came back again. He felt confident they would get
inside the house; he was uneasy about the idea of somebody spending the
night out on the jeep roof.

Smoked pork sausage cut into slices sizzled in the frying pan, filling
the dry dusty room with a delicious smell. The room was on the ground
floor, at the front, facing the jeep. Josh and Zammo lay sprawled out
on carry mats and sleeping bags, smoking a joint whilst Carice cooked
up a feast on the twin burner camping stove they had hired.
Carice checked the pasta boiling on the second burner. Another ten
minutes, she guessed.. There were raw red peppers, diced, waiting on a
paper grocery bag she had torn into a make-shift chopping board; she
would throw in some mushrooms just before the sausages were done; lumps
of crumbly cheese would be the final touch.
She glanced over at the two men and caught Josh watching her; he
didn't look away, just smiled that devilish smile he had. Zammo was
compltely oblivious, rambling on with his eyes on the ceiling about all
the jumps he had done.
She blew him a quick kiss and laughed quietly; he smirked, holding in
a laugh then shook his head and looked away.
Coward, that was what she thought of him; Josh was an attractive man,
and was successful with women&;#8230; and good with women: Carice
had done her research. Discreetly, of course. Yet all the time they had
known each other, and flirted with each other, he had never made a
move. She liked his Northumbria accent; his bulky build that he carried
well, without coming across as some apish muscle type. She liked the
way he tried to hide the spread around his waist with loose-fitting
T-shirts and knew he was conscious of it whenever he was slouching in a
chair, his hand was always sliding round to feel the sides of his
waist.
Sex.
She wanted sex. The problem right now was Zammo: Zammo and her were
close and she sensed there would be problems with jealousy, or rivalry
if she and Josh were blatantly together.
Carice stirred the pasta and considered her options.
Spike Zammo's food with morphine, valium and qualudes.
Hmm, she mused, giggling quietly, knowing her friend he would simply
enter a state of extreme relaxation, stoned, and remain awake.
It was going to have to wait, she decided.

The end of the joint flared bright orange; Zammo took in a quick, deep
hit, held it, then slowly let the smoke slip out through his wide lips.
He paused for a while, contemplative, then reached over and passed it
to Josh. Settling back, he said, "I always recommend at least a hundred
sky dives before a person even steps into a base rig."
"Yeah." Josh nodded sagely, squinting as smoke curled up into his
eyes. "I've done about fifty&;#8230; yeah, fifty. I'll watch for
sure, I'm looking forward to watching but no way are you going to get
me into a jump rig this trip."
Zammo grinned, stoned; "I'm really glad you came along, mate. Nice to
see some of our Mother Hen's crew coming out to play." He threw a quick
glance at Carice, cooking.
Josh slowly rolled over onto his side, smiling; "The smell of that
food is driving me crazeeeee."
They both chuckled.
Zammo continued the conversation from some indeterminate point,
"You've got to be familiar with your gear, you've got to have good
canopy skills and plenty of awareness in freefall. Getting scared is a
normal part of a base jump, just like skydiving, but the fear can be a
lot more intense. If you freeze in reaction to fear, this sport is a
quick ticket to a messy ending. You need to function in the presence of
extreme adrenaline. And you need to be in good physical condition.
Getting to an exit point, you've got to climb all sorts of mad places,
hiking steep trails, going up stairs or ladders."
Josh nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, totally."
Zammo flopped back and lay gazing up at the ceiling, barely visible in
the low light of the gas-lamp. In the periphery of his vision he saw
Josh looking over at Carice; he didn't have to move to know she would
be looking back at Josh. He had always known she would fall for the
man. He first met Josh at one of the late-night get-together's run by
the recruitment company. Josh had started talking about sky diving and
about his passion for scuba diving and Zammo had just sensed it: Carice
was going to be wild about this guy. That had been eight months ago.
Josh had become a regular player within the group of clubbers and
sporty-types that Carice had built up around herself. Zammo was not
sure if anything had actually happened between them yet; he was not so
sure he wanted to know, either. Carice was an excellent friend but he
had other feelings for her.
He felt a twinge of emotion, a negative feeling that he knew would put
him into a foul mood if he didn't get rid of it. He didn't want to
piss-off Carice by being Mr Longface.
"Hey Carice," he called across to her, "How long before you're dishing
up dinner because I want to go out for a walk?"
"You cheeky bastard." She snapped.
"Hey I'm just asking!" He said, laughing.
"Well you can jump off a cliff."
"Ha-ha, without a chute I suppose."
"Got it in one, Sherlock. This should be ready in about five minutes,
you going to be out longer than that?"
"Hmmmm- not sure, I was going to take a wander out by that ridge. I'll
wait for food first."
Carice made a little snippy sound, "Would master care for me to fetch
his slippers for when he returns from his stroll?"
Zammo rubbed his eyes, trying to latch onto the happy vibe but feeling
himself sliding into a dark space; he did his best to sound cheerful,
"Place them by the fire that will be fine." He went silent and could
imagine Josh and Carice grinning at each other.
Jerkily pulling himself up into a sitting position he looked round to
find Josh crashed out; he looked over at Carice, she glanced up from
the pan of frying sausage and smiled broadly. The bad feelings went
away.

Zammo unlocked the jeep and took out a torch from the box in the back.
He giggled as he nearly fell over climbing down from the door; wiping
his palm across his face he tried to clear his senses. Wavering
slightly where he stood, he stopped to get his bearings taking in his
surroundings, savouring the damp mist as he took slow deep
breaths.
"Shit&;#8230;." He chuckled to himself.
Then he made an awed sound as his eyes fell upon the moon hanging
yellow and bloated above the nearby ridge.
An idea surged through his head: pull down the gear from the jeep,
carry it through the woods and over to the ridge, find the exit-point
and perform a moonlit jump; better than that, be a moth-like silhouette
captured by the moon.
A voice of sanity quickly talked him down.
Still worth a look to try and find the place, he mused. It had been a
late-night trawl on the Internet that had brought him there; an empty
chat-room on an Extreme Sports site, then one guy calling himself
KrypToniK had come in and told him about an adventurous exit point, a
place barely known about and made more exotic by the fact it was in an
area made off-limits by the United States Government.
Carice had been reluctant to believe him, Josh was happy to be part of
the ride, but now he was here, Zammo was possessed by the notion that
they had found the ultimate jump site. Something utterly memorable.
Something they would praise him for finding. It would become a legend
within their circle and would be an edge over the other jumpers turning
up for Bridge Day. Bridge Day was an annual gathering of base-jumpers
held in West Virginia on Route 19 near Fayetteville and was their
ultimate destination.
Zammo flicked on the torch and trudged away from the house into the
woods.

"So what do you want to do?" Carice asked him, slipping her arms around
his waist from behind and pulling herself into a close embrace.
Josh stood by one of the boarded-up windows, watching through a gap
Zammo's progress towards the woods. He was worried about Zammo being
out there alone; he had not forgotten the impression he had of the
place when they first arrived. There was something not right with the
area; maybe that much was not so obvious but the question lingered in
his head: why had the Government closed it off?
"Hey!" Carice said, complaining and squeezing the slight overhang of
flab around his waist making him flinch.
He grunted, self-conscious about his excess weight and tried to push
her arms away but she hung on; he wriggled himself round to face her,
she met his gaze and held it. He knew what was coming next; could see
it in her eyes, in the mischievous curve to her lips. She leant forward
and kissed him, he didn't resist; within seconds they had tongues
rolling across each other, breaths coming fast and hard with all the
little moans of pleasure and grinning enjoyment. Her hands slid down
from his waist and traced the inner flanks of his thighs in a downward
arc then quickly dragged themselves up and in towards his groin.
He pushed her away, gently but firmly.
She stood there, fingers spread across his thighs, head tilted to one
side with her lips pouted in disappointment. "No fucky-fucky?" She
purred.
He laughed, glanced away, "Man, I can't believe I'm saying no to
you."
"Sucky sucky?" She wiggled her eyebrows.
"Mmmmm." He bit down on his bottom lip and closed his eyes for a
moment; "Not here, not now&;#8230;. Zammo, you know, it would be bad
if&;#8230;."
She sighed and stepped away. "Yeah, I know." There was no hostility in
her voice. She appeared to accept what he was saying.
Regret tittered mockingly from the side of his thoughts. His decision
could be flawed. It was possible that his idea that they could pick up
at a later point was delusional; his ego a fallible point. Maybe she
only wanted some fun with him now? They were crossing America to a
congregational gathering of fellow suicidal adrenaline freaks: maybe
her interest was in keeping herself free to meet the perfect soul mate
on Bridge Day?
Carice walked over to the spread of sleeping bags and blankets on the
floor; she lowered herself down and lay back. "At least you didn't
wander off with Zammo and leave me alone in this house." Josh was
relieved to hear the attempt at light-heartiness in her voice.
"Yeah&;#8230;.spooky place." He said.
Carice wrinkled her nose and flicked her eyes around the four sides of
the ceiling; "Not really. Grubby&;#8230;&;#8230;.but, there is
a&;#8230;..feeling?"
Josh felt his scalp tighten across his skull. "Makes you wonder why
they closed this place down."
"I'm curious to know." She answered
"Zammo could probably find out on the Net."
Carice smiled, "Zammo."
He saw her turn her head and look across at him; he grinned,
recognising the point she was making: that there was only one reason
why he was not screwing her brains out right now. "Zammo."

The woods were sparse, he was pleased to note; there would be no
trouble carrying their gear to the ridge the next morning.
Zammo pulled his way up the rocky slope, his ears picking up a sound, a
deep rumbling that he felt certain was water. KrypToniK had said the
exit-point over-looked a waterfall.
All the signs were in place. It was like finally approaching the spot
marked X on some treasure map after finding all the clues to the
markers. In truth it had been quite easy to find the place; it was just
the fortune of somebody telling them it existed and having the
willpower to go there.
Reaching the upper edge of the ridge he became aware of the loudness of
the sound and of the fine haze of water vapour hanging in the air. He
scrambled forward, stooping, his hands grazing the ground until the
steep incline dropped away to reveal a reasonably flat ledge. Beyond
the ledge there was a sheer drop-off point. There was a prominent
overhang ahead of him visible in the moonlight, marked by a scraggily
tree clinging at a precarious angle above empty space. The powerful
rumbling of water filled his ears; he walked forward onto the overhang,
confident it would take his weight. An image from Road Runner flickered
through his mind, making him laugh: Coyote standing on a ledge as it
snapped away from the cliff.
"Meep-meep." Zammo imitated the Road Runner.
Glancing left and right he saw that he was overlooking a clear jump.
Stepping up to the tree, he grabbed the twisted trunk, held onto it and
leaned out over the edge. What he saw made his mouth fall open.
The drop must have been close to six hundred feet. The ridge behind him
couldn't have been more than ten metres above the house. The whole
place was a vast rent in the landscape. The line of the ridge curved
round sharply to enclose him on both sides and create a gully shaped
like a teardrop with ragged cliffs descending to a lake below. A
natural waterfall was formed by a powerful torrent of white water that
surged from an opening in the cliff a few metres below his position.
The waterfall was the source of the fantastically loud rumbling and
Zammo guessed that the sound of the water pounding the lake down there,
between the walls of the narrow gully, would be deafening.
His mind started to calculate jump parameters, checking off the various
adaptations that he could make to his chute, deployment system and
girdle to apply to the particular jump being made.
Movement caught his eye as he leant over the edge of the overhang; it
took a few seconds for him to comprehend he was looking at a naked
woman.
She was standing on the shelf of rock to one side of the thundering
stream of water where it roared out from the cliff face to drop in
free-fall to the lake below.
His mouth opened to speak but no words came out; he was too stunned and
confused as to the means by which she could have reached the shelf. As
far as he could tell the shelf was six hundred feet above nowhere with
no way to get to it.
His face compacted into a heavy frown.
The woman was slim, pale skinned and had long black hair that came
halfway down her back; she stood with her feet on the edge of the
shelf, facing the vast drop in front of her so he was unable to see her
features.
What the hell is she doing? Zammo asked himself, as he watched her lift
her arms wide above her shoulders and raise her head to gaze at the
moon.
He became so engrossed in watching her he did not realise his fingers
were growing tired of their grip on the tree.
There was a sense of intensity and religious devotion to the action she
was performing: Zammo wondered for a moment if she was a performing
arts student getting into a role, or something like that. Then he
changed his mind and guessed she was a nature worshipper, or a moon
priestess. He liked the idea of that. Possibly a gorgeous moon
priestess; his imagination began to extrapolate. Certainly she had a
fit body.
Without warning the repetitive rumbling and roaring of the waterfall
was fractured by a high-pitch sound that Zammo could only best compare
to a sound from a whale song. It rose and fell in pitch and echoed
hauntingly around the gully walls. It came from the woman.
Then the woman stepped forward, executed a perfect forward dive and
vanished from sight beyond the shelf.
"Oh shit!" Zammo shrieked, thrusting a redundant arm out after her. It
was a useless reaction, the shelf was over ten metres beneath him but
the response was based on his brain believing the woman had jumped to
her death.
Suddenly his fingers began to slip from the tree. He tried to pull
himself back but discovered he had no strength left in his arm or hand.
Panic flooded his system; the vast drop rolled across his vision as his
body began to twist itself round. His mind screamed as his fingers left
the coarse bark of the tree and gravity voraciously sucked him into its
embrace.
Somehow he managed to twist his feet round and fall sideways, at the
same time he dragged his whole body into itself so that he struck the
side of the overhang rather than passing straight over the edge. His
arms lashed out, hands desperate to grip anything but gravity played a
cruel final trick and rolled his body away from the direction he had
been reaching. A split second later he was falling through open space.
A moment after that he went underwater then took a massive impact to
the side of his body. His brain was already telling him there was no
way he could have fallen six hundred feet in so little time. The water
was shockingly cold. A powerful current had a hold of him and he felt
himself being bodily carried across a hard surface: shelf&;#8230;.he
was on the shelf! A glimmer of hope touched his spirit but was quickly
doused by the notion he was about to be carried off the shelf and once
again into free-fall. Then something struck his legs, chest and arms;
he felt his skin scraped as the weight of the water behind him pushed
him heavily into it but the obstruction held, leaving him pinned to it
with the water surging across him.
Zammo fought to catch his bearings, his lungs were bursting and he
didn't know if he was facing up or down; the ferocious flow of the
water was churning him from side to side. He found a hard solid surface
beneath his knees and realised his was in a crouching position; he
lifted his head above the surface of the swiftly moving body of water.
White spray hit his eyes and a roaring sound filled his ears.
He was tangled in a fabricated net on the very edge of the shelf. His
heart almost swelled to bursting point with a jolt of panic when he saw
this; right in front of him was the drop-off point, open space and a
guaranteed end-point for his life.
An image of the woman falling to her death sprung into his mind,
chilling him more than the water.
Zammo gritted his teeth against the terror and numbing cold; he was
used to responding quickly in moments of extreme adrenaline. His lifted
his hands to the uppermost length of rope that had been stretched
across the edge of the shelf there; it was thick and well worn, the
kind of rope Zammo imagined they used on ships. He tested his strength
against it and was relieved to find it was fastened securely. There
were other lengths of rope below it, forming a protective last-chance
barrier to being flung over the edge. Glancing to his left, he saw the
area of the shelf where the woman had been standing. Using the rope for
support, he dragged himself out of the thundering course of water and
flopped down onto his back, relieved and exhausted.
He was lying on a four foot wide stretch of rock above a six-hundred
foot drop: getting back to the house was going to be a problem.
He thought about staying there in the hope of Josh and Carice coming to
look for him, but in the dark it would be a very slim chance of them
seeing him, and with the noise of the water he knew he would not hear
them.
He was shivering, which meant it was colder than he thought. Not a good
sign; and he also knew the risk of shock. Pulling himself up into a
sitting position, he gently probed his arm, shoulder and hip on the
side that had taken the impact, checking for any damage.
It appeared he was not injured.
Glancing at the shelf around him he spotted something. Wet footprints.
The woman. An idea formed itself in his head: if her feet were wet she
must have crossed the channel of water, or come from the channel. The
ropes had been placed there for a reason, the reason could be to stop
people being swept away when they crossed or came out from the channel.
What was on the other side of the shelf? Zammo did not even stop to
think about it. He shuffled forward until his legs were in the water,
grabbing hold of the rope he pulled himself through the fury of water
and noise to the other side.
In the moonlight the hole in the cliff face could have been overlooked
as a simple shadow. Zammo found that the hole entered a long straight
shaft leading upwards at a shallow angle, back towards the ridge. It
looked man-made. Walking slowly with one hand resting on the left wall,
he moved forward through total darkness. After a few metres he came to
a dense obstacle of foliage. He could see patches moonlight through the
small gaps of the overhanging vegetation and knew there had to be a way
through. In the end he used brute force and pushed himself through; it
was much easier than he had presumed.
He emerged on the far side of the ridge in front of a crowded cluster
of trees, not far from the house. Moonlight dappled the ground in front
of him. He took a couple steps forward then stopped and turned to look
back at the virtually concealed route to the shelf.
The woman must have reached the shelf that way.
Bewilderment and relief took hold of him; he trudged back like an
automaton through the woods, the house like a welcoming beacon with
soft lamp light visible through the boarded-windows at the front.

Carice and Josh were curled up on the sprawl of duvets and sleeping
bags when Zammo walked in. The first thing Josh noticed was the gaunt,
open mouthed expression on Zammo's face, plus the fact he was soaking
wet; Carice must have sensed there something wrong too, as both of
jumped up at the same time.
"Zammo, what's happened?" Carice asked, rushing across to him.
"Hey fella, are you okay?" Josh took a reserved attitude, holding back
and staying alert: the idea coming into his mind was that somebody had
caught them being up there.
Zammo stopped still, blinking slowly, apparently struggling to
overcome some kind of shock.
Carice wiped strands of lank hair from his face and rubbed his arms;
"How are you so wet?"
"We have to get the police." Zammo mumbled.
Josh frowned, "Why's that fella?"
"I&;#8230; I've just seen a girl kill herself."
"Oh my God, Zammo, where&;#8230;. How?"
Josh continued frowning, "What girl?"
"Over by the ridge&;#8230;.the jump, it's huge, I mean it's
frigging immense, six hundred feet at least."
Carice and Josh were silent, waiting for him to finish.
"There was a girl up there, at first I thought I was imagining it
like, because she was naked." A frown wrinkled his brow as Zammo
questioned his own words, "Then she jumped off."
Carice made a gesture that said she did not know what to say; she
turned briefly and glanced at Josh.
He saw Carice's expression and knew she was thinking the same as him;
Zammo was either doing a very good act to wind them up or had smoked
too many drugs before going outside.
"We have to call the police." Zammo croaked.
Josh let out a patient sigh, "Maaan, that's quite a story."
Zammo's reaction was as unexpected as it was volatile; "Fuck you Josh!
I fucking saw a girl just jump to her death!" He glared at Josh for a
moment then pulled away from Carice and moved over to the small
stove.
Carice glanced between Zammo and Josh, utterly unprepared for
this.
Josh rubbed his chin with the palm of his hand; "Zammo, mate, I'm sure
you think you saw a girl&;#8230;"
Zammo span round, angry, "Do I look like I'm fucking tripping?"
Josh shook his head, loosing his patience.
Zammo stabbed a finger at him, "Do I look like I'm seeing things?
Jesus! I'm so fucking sick of your smarmy fucking think you know better
attitude -"
Josh stepped forward and shouted, "Hey you can piss off with
that!"
Carice cut in, "Boys!"
Zammo looked at her, "We have to call the police, okay. There's a dead
girl down there."
Josh fought the urge to land a punch on Zammo, all his personal
dislikes for the man were seeping to the surface of his mind; trying to
calm his voice he said, "Look, we can't call the police because we're
not even supposed to be here. We do not want to get involved."
Carice said, "Hey, hey, hey, calm it down, both of you. Zammo, you
said a girl jumped six hundred feet?"
"Yeah, at least that."
"Okay, what was at the bottom?" She asked him.
"A lake."
She nodded, thinking about what he had said, "Well, even with water
down there there's very little chance she could survive a fall from
that height."
"That's if there even was a girl." Josh sniped.
Carice rolled her eyes and looked at him, "You're not helping Josh."
She turned her attention back to Zammo, "If she's down there, she's
dead. Right?"
Zammo nodded.
"Okay, well, this is what I think we should do. We should stay here
tonight and then go down and take a look tomorrow morning. If we find a
body then we'll discuss what options to take with calling the
police&;#8230;hopefully not getting ourselves involved." Josh was
pleased to see her glance at him on that point. "If we don't find a
body, well, then either she survived or&;#8230;I can leave the
guessing to you Zammo. Is that acceptable to you?" She asked
Zammo.
Zammo nodded again.
She turned to Josh. He nodded, "Yeah, I'm happy with that."
Carice was about to open her mouth to speak and Josh could tell she
was going to suggest he and Zammo made up; he did not like the idea of
bad blood between them, he pre-empted Carice and stepped toward Zammo
with a open hand outstretched.
Zammo smiled, and gripped it immediately. "Sorry, man, I just had a
freaky experience."
"No worries mate, come on, grab a seat and I'll brew you a
cuppa."

The tense atmosphere returned; it was unavoidable. Zammo's claim of a
woman throwing herself from the jump they expected to do the next day
had opened all sorts of rounds of mental questioning.
Zammo sat hunched against a wall with his laptop connected to the
Internet through a mobile phone.
Josh lay on his front with his chin resting on the crook of his arm,
gazing into the light of the gas lamp.
Carice could feel the mood in the air and she resented Zammo for it.
She hated the fact that her clan had divided itself. She wanted smiles,
laughter and male bravado. She did not want sullen silence and the
contemplation of what a failed chute or an off-heading opening could
mean: the kind of thoughts a woman jumping to her death inspired.
Her thoughts moved ahead to the approaching day. She was curious to
know if the jump really was as vast as Zammo claimed. A bead of
excitement formed in her guts, which she found hard to suppress. She
hoped they did not find a woman's body; there would be a dilemma as to
whether to call the police, something she would be loathe to do yet at
the same time could not ignore the idea that there would be people who
deserved to know. Family. Friends. Contacting the police would give
those people peace. They would know the woman was gone and could begin
the healing process rather than spending years in uncertainty.
Carice frowned and reigned in her thoughts: this was all so
hypothetical.
Tomorrow; they would know tomorrow.
"Shit." Zammo said; the word was more of a prolonged gasp.
Josh looked up, rubbed at his face. "What's up?" Curious.
"I know why the Feds locked this place up?"
Zammo unplugged the mobile phone from the laptop and slid himself
closer to the others, eager to share what he had discovered. Carice and
Josh picked themselves up to listen.
"Okay, don't ask me how I got this information." Zammo began
cryptically.
Josh winced and flapped his hand, "Ahhh, don't come on to me with your
hacker-code of silence and verbal disclaimer bollocks."
Zammo chuckled, glancing up at him from beneath a down tilted brow.
"I'm just protecting the innocent." He used a pseudo-American Detective
voice.
Carice grinned broadly, revelling in the fact that as far as she was
concerned: Zammo was back.
"Get on with it then!" Josh jibed.
Zammo settled the laptop comfortably onto his lap. "Our jump site has
been known to the locals around here-"
"What locals!" Josh hollered.
Carice smacked Josh on the arm, "Shoooosh, Josh, I for one would like
to hear this tale tonight."
Josh grinned ruefully, a chuckle slipping out as he said, "Yeah, but
I'm just pointing out there are no locals&;#8230; I mean the nearest
town to here must be at least four miles away!"
Carice and Zammo gazed at him, unimpressed.
Josh's smile melted from his face; "Right! Fine! Not another word
then!"
Zammo cleared his throat dramatically and continued; "The place is
known as Devil's Spring. The Spring is connected the to the lake, but
it's also connected to a number of other underground waterways and to a
natural well, which apparently this house was built around."
He had Carice and Josh's attention.
"The house was built in the 1890's by a Hans Lubrekker, a big time
German industrialist who loved America and wanted to retire here.
Lubrekker tried to harness some of the hydro-electric power of the
region, using the powerful water torrent running into Devil's Spring.
Two weeks after moving in, he and his whole family and the crew of
seven workmen were killed. All except the daughter."
"Awwwww- you're having me on." Josh scoffed.
Carice thumped him on the arm again, harder.
Josh whirled round with a put-on scowl, "Hey woman you hit me one more
time they'll be finding you buried here."
Carice made an 'Oooooooooooo' sound and wiggled her head from side to
side.
Zammo smirked and went on; "This is the weird part though. They were
all drowned, inside this house."
He paused for effect.
Josh pouted his lips, blew out his cheeks, then let out a slow hiss of
air whilst his eyes flicked around the corners of the room.
Carice shivered.
"It doesn't stop there, however. I mean, everyone asked the question
how do so many people drown&;#8230; inside a house? But it didn't
start there. There were disappearances, and apparently they had been
going on way before the first settlers rode into the area. The name for
the Spring is derived from an Native Indian saying for 'evil water
spirit', that's what this FBI report says anyway. This whole area has
got seriously bad karma. There have been disappearances around here all
through the past century, although it seems some people were prone to
blame a kid running from a bad family on the local superstition than
face up to the fact they were bad parents.
"Then a few years ago a group of investigators visited this place,
sponsored by some kind of FBI program. They sent scuba divers down into
the well-shaft where they confirmed it was connected to Devil's Spring;
but they backed up when one of their men was sucked down and lost by
freakish currents, prompting the assumption that Devil's Spring feeds
into a larger subterranean waterway."
Zammo stopped and lifted his hands: story over.
"Bloody 'ell, chuck." Carice twisted her mouth as she put on a
Yorkshire accent.
Josh was frowning, and Carice sensed it was from his association with
other divers. Josh said, "Did they ever find the diver?"
Zammo shook his head, "From what I read, no. They advised the whole
place be sealed off from the public and&;#8230;." He pointed his
face up at the ceiling then down again, "It looks like that's what got
done. I mean look at any modern map and you won't find that lake marked
anywhere! Now that tells you something."
"So what happened to Lubrekker's daughter?" Carice asked.
"Disappeared the night everyone else got drowned. Or at least they
never found her body. I could have dug a little deeper but the battery
on my mobile is dead."
"Bloody hell, Zammo, you're the only one with a phone that works out
here!" Carice said.
"I know&;#8230;. I didn't realise it was so low. Sorry." Zammo
replied.
Carice went quiet, pondering the implications of what she had heard.
Josh must have had similar thoughts, his next question matched what was
on her mind:
"Hey, Zammo, did you really see a woman jump into the Spring?"
Zammo looked at him, unwavering; "Yes."
Josh shifted his sitting position, uncomfortable; "If there are those
currents down there, then we might not find her body."
"And another question," Carice spoke up, "If the Spring is that
dangerous, do you think we should risk jumping tomorrow?"

They did not establish an answer to the question. It was generally left
as 'lets wait and see'. The intention had been to explore the rest of
the house; perhaps find the natural well that supposedly existed
somewhere, but in the end alcohol, dope, food and the strain of the day
caught up with them. They slept until long into the morning. Carice was
the first to wake; Josh and Zammo stirred to the sounds and smells of a
fabulous fry-up in the making.
They ate and then used the last of the water from the Jerry cans to
wash the pans and utensils; spent time packing everything away. They
did not intend to spend another night at the house. If they did the
jump, then they would be gone within minutes. It was tradition.
In the bright morning daylight the ridge was a dark shadow of rock
above the woodland foliage.
Zammo described the jump as Carice and Josh hauled the gear from the
roof of the jeep and laid it out on the broken ground outside the
house. Carice nodded after every statement and repeated just about
every word Zammo said, double checking his description and her own
understanding of the exit-point. Josh listened, learning.
Zammo tried to give some explanation of all the equipment to
Josh:
"For any particular Base jump you need to create a deployment system
that will provide you with an opening altitude sufficient to reach the
landing zone. Base jumpers do this by picking a combination of
deployment system components that meet their needs for that particular
jump. Important point. No two jumps are ever the same. Do not assume
anything.
"A deployment system consists of the devices that control or affect
parachute extraction and, or, inflation. The devices typically found in
Base freefall deployment systems are a Base pilot chute and bridle."
Zammo pointed at the equipment now laid out on the ground. "We're using
ram-air parachutes, so you'll see a tailpocket, deep or multiple brake
settings, a low-drag slider and the container closure. What you won't
see a lot of, except in really high freefall Base jumps are deployment
bags. There are a number of reasons for this, but the main thing is the
need for an on-heading opening. Free-packing seems to give consistently
better results than deployment bags."
"Worst nightmare." Carice commented, crouching over her chute.
Josh looked at her and back to Zammo; "Your chute opens and you're
facing the wrong direction?"
Zammo said; "Yeah, and a big reason for the deep brake settings. Maxo,
John's friend, he did a one-two second delay from a three-fifty foot
cliff, his canopy opened toward the cliff face. His face was a picture,
but those deep brake settings gave him the time to steer away from a
messy ending."
Josh rubbed at his chin, "It's a bit more intense than gearing up for
a sky-dive."
"Just a bit." Carice said and smiled.
Zammo squatted down onto his haunches, hands hanging between his
knees; "A lot of it you're going to be familiar with, but you've got to
watch out for the differences. Sliders for example. They're just like a
skydiving slider except that Base jumps use a nylon mesh material in
place of F-one-one-one or zero porosity ripstop nylon. The mesh allows
much faster inflation for the ram-air canopy, but slows the opening
down to a tolerable speed."
"Stops ya snapping yer neck when your chute pops open." Carice put on
a voice, she did not take her eyes from what she was doing: pulling
together her canopy for free-packing. "If it's a water jump I'd say a
rounder for this one." Carice stated her choice of chute.
Zammo nodded, then hunched his shoulders and tilted a hand from side
to side; "I used to enjoy the Rounds but I feel like using my old
Raven."
"That thing!" Carice exclaimed, her eyes searching the paraphernalia
on the ground. "Did you bring it with you."
"Heyyy, it's got sent-i-mental attachment."
"It's a cliff, Zammo, if you get an off-heading opening you'll slam
straight into it. The Rounder's got a slow enough forward speed to give
you time to steer away."
"Yeah, yeah, I know!" Zammo said smiling, "But the exit-point is an
overhang so I'm counting on that providing enough distance to manoeuvre
from any impact."
Carice lifted her head and locked a concerned look onto his eyes for a
few moments.
"It'll be fine." He assured her.
Josh said to Zammo, "How long do you think you'll delay
opening?"
"A two, maybe three second delay. That should take about 60 to 140
feet. Deployment for a mesh-slider-up ram-air main canopy will take
about 100 feet, maybe a bit more. So if my canopy doesn't open
normally, I've got a maximum of 360 feet to deal with it."
Josh blew out threw his lips, "Not many seconds." He laughed, "I'm
used to a lot more time; skydiving is almost mellow compared to
this."

It was nonsense. There was no dead woman down there. Carice knew it,
Carice knew Josh knew it. They had spent an hour picking their way
around the broken rock shore of the lake, looking for any sign of the
apparition Zammo claimed to have seen jump to her death the previous
night. They had dumped their jumping rigs up on the ridge by the
overhang, then followed the ridge until the cliffs fell away to more
negotiable slopes. Zammo had taken the North shore, and she could see
him now across the lake, sitting on a boulder on the edge of water,
smoking a joint. The waterfall filled the deep and narrow enclosure
with the rumble of thunder. Sheets of white spray drifted away from the
impact point. She could tell he was tense; his knees were up by his
chest, his arms hooked around them.
She stood upright and stretched her back; arching her neck she turned
her head and scanned the tight enclosure around them. Zammo had not
been exaggerating when he described the exit-point. It was
incredible.
"Time to get to it." She heard Josh call over to her. He was up to his
thighs in the water, wearing his wet suit.
They had to shout to hear each other over the noise of the waterfall.
"Yes, I think we have wasted enough time already." She agreed.
Josh nodded and jabbed his thumb in the direction they had come from;
"I've brought my mask and snorkel, so I'm going to stay here. Why don't
you head back to the ledge. I'll see you down here again after you've
jumped."
Carice grinned, "Are you going to be my lifeguard?"
Josh laughed; "Yeah, I do great mouth to mouth."
"So I've heard!" She exclaimed, then turned and began to make her way
back to the point where they climbed down from above. She glanced back
once again saw that Zammo was standing now, watching her. She pointed
at the overhang and he nodded, understanding.

Josh watched the fine curtains of water vapour drift across the surface
of the lake; the sun was almost directly overhead now and he had the
pleasure of seeing shafts of sunlight sloping down through the gloom
held between the cliff walls. He was trying to shake off an uneasy
feeling. He kept telling himself that his imagination was simply
reacting to what Zammo had told them about the place, but then he kept
reminding himself he had had this feeling when they first
arrived.
Josh had spooked himself out before; in a forest once, when he had
wandered off from his friends for a walk and several times when he had
been down diving off wrecks. Silence and isolation had an uncanny
ability to grab your attention. Although he had become genuinely edgy
during those moments, they were starkly different to the feeling he had
now. He recognised that this feeling was real.
He spotted Zammo on the overhang waving down at him. He waved back and
pulled himself up onto his feet. Zammo made some gestures and point
signals. Josh understood: Carice was going to jump first. Josh became
aware of the hard pellet of tension in his guts. He swallowed several
times uncontrollably and he felt his insides shudder. He would be glad
when all of this was over and they were driving with tunes playing and
the sunset behind them. Those were his favourite moments of their time
in the US so far: the colour of the light during sunset, being immersed
within it as they sped down wide highway's with the windows open and
warm wind blowing in.
On an impulse of instinct, Josh dropped his gaze to the other side of
the lake then froze, a sound of shock escaping from his lips.
There was a woman in the water up to the bridge of her nose; large dark
eyes watching him. Or at least that's what he thought he was seeing.
Involuntarily, through some register of fear, Josh staggered back
catching his heel on a large stone and had to fight to keep his
balance. Bringing himself back to stand still he returned his attention
to the far shore. The woman was gone.
Damn. He looked up and down the shore but saw nothing. His eyes caught
a collection of boulders half-submerged in the water that could have
passed for a number of heads at first glance. A cloud rushed across the
sun plunging the space between the cliffs back into twilight gloom.
Doubt washed over him and he began to question whether he had seen a
woman or a rock. He kept his attention rooted to the surface of the
water in that area, believing that if it had been a woman she could
only had gone underwater, and only for a minimum period of time. A
chill began to seep through the wet suit and into him.
A barely audible howl of excitement dragged his attention back up to
the overhang and he saw Carice standing there, ready to jump. Josh felt
a surge of panic; he waved his arms in warning and shouted; "No wait!"
But the roaring of the waterfall swallowed his voice and she had
already stepped back beyond sight for the run-up. A moment later she
re-appeared launching herself into free-fall.
His brain kicked into an automatic count:
One second -
She hurtled down alongside the shifting white torrent of the
waterfall.
Two second -
Her chute whipped up above her head.
Three second -
The canopy opened, perfect on-heading; her body rocked forward, her
legs kicked up; she glided fast and controlled towards the middle of
the lake.
Zammo appeared at the edge of the overhang, bending forward with hands
on knees, observing her descent.
Josh felt the tension starting to ease from him.
Carice hit the water surprisingly fast and vanished from sight; less
than a second later she was back above the surface, the chute detached,
her face grinning, she treaded water and kicked herself round to look
up at the overhang. Zammo was jumping up and down and showing her a big
thumbs-up. She lifted her arm and waved like crazy.
Then it happened.
The surface of the water around her rose up like a curtain in a sudden,
violent eruption; then it collapsed, and she was gone.
Josh was speechless at first, too shocked to react. He looked up to see
Zammo leaning over the edge of the overhang screaming but there was no
way to hear what he was saying. He looked back at the lake. Even
Carice's chute was gone. It had been floating on the surface beside
her. Now it was as if the lake had just swallowed her and the chute
whole. He ran forward and plunged into the water, began driving forward
with strong strokes but then stopped, his legs dropping down and
treading water. His mind locked onto the story of the FBI diver who had
been sucked down to his death: powerful underwater currents, deep
underwater caves. Fear clamped around him and froze him to the bone.
His legs kicked frantically as he suddenly became convinced that
something was down there, coming for him. He swam backwards, flicking
his eyes to all sides of the lake, frantic to get out of the
water.
When he reached the rocky shore he dragged himself out and stumbled
away from the lake, Zammo's incomprehensible screaming stabbing his
ears.

Josh did not go back into the water. Zammo made his way down from the
ridge and found the man sitting on a boulder, gazing at the surface of
the lake. Anger flared up inside of him but miraculously he held it in
check; right now they needed to work together. At the same time, Zammo
picked up on his concern about the underwater currents; it would be
foolish to risk going in without knowing more, without any backup.
That's how he justified his fear.
"The water came up like it was fucking alive." Josh said.
Zammo had seen the same thing; more he had seen how the water had risen
up in an almost perfect circle. It was not natural. But if that was the
case then what was it? Supernatural? Zammo almost heard the derisive
augh in his head: that did not happen in the real world.
They both stared at the water. Somewhere Zammo held onto the fantasy
that she would surface; maybe further down the lake.
The silence between them grew tense.
"We've got to call the police." Zammo said.
"No, man, not yet." Josh told him; "That's the last thing we want to
do."
Again, Zammo held onto his anger.
"Then lets stop twiddling our fingers&;#8230;. Come on, lets go look
for her."
Josh nodded and jumped down from the boulder; he was as eager as Zammo
to prove to himself he had tried to do something.

It was late afternoon when they got back to the house. Josh had gone up
onto the ridge with Zammo and helped him collect the jumping gear; they
carried it to the jeep and packed it away. Climbing back into the house
through the window Josh had his mood sucked down into a black hole and
he shuddered uncontrollably. They were not supposed to be back in the
house, they were supposed to be in the jeep thundering along the
freeway laughing about the wild jumps they had just done. Emotions
surged and he felt a flood of tears about to burst free, he stopped
where he stood and bowed his head, held the palms of his hands against
his eyes.
Zammo stepped beside him and placed a sympathetic hand across the back
of his neck.
"This is fucked up, Zammo. This really is bad."
"Yeah, I know, man."
"She's gone."
Zammo made an uncomfortable sound; "She&;#8230;.she could have been
washed down the shore of the lake."
Josh lowered his hands, lifting his head and looked at him.
"It's possible." Zammo said.
Josh made a face to demonstrate he was not so sure.
Zammo spoke, "Mate, we have to call the police."
Josh rolled his head up and round, took a pace backwards. "No.
God&;#8230;don't you get it."
"If she's out there they'll have the means to find her!" Zammo's voice
rose in pitch.
"If she's out there&;#8230;." Josh made an exasperated tone but it
was only an attempt to hide his fear that Carice was still out there.
In his mind he did not want the situation to get any messier; he did
not want to be involved. He tried to explain this to Zammo; "If she got
sucked down somewhere then she is gone. Why make our lives hell by
bringing in the police who are gonna break our balls for being here in
the first place."
Zammo's features began to harden as his anger surfaced; "Fuck, man,
when somebody realises that Carice is gone the police are gonna come to
us anyway because we were travelling with her!"
"I know, I know." Josh agreed, irritated, "But we can spin a different
story, if we can keep our story together we might get out of this
without any shit sticking to us."
"What's your fucking problem!" Zammo began shouting, "I don't give a
shit about spinning stories&;#8230;I want to find Carice!"
"What and you think I don't?" Josh shouted back, both men were facing
each other now, jabbing fingers.
"The way you're going on&;#8230;."
"I'm just being realistic Zammo. I'm thinking about the bigger picture
here."
Zammo made a disgusted sound, "Listen to yourself. Carice is probably
dead! Think about that! She's drowned&;#8230;..and what's sad is
that the last thing she probably thought about was you."
"What are you on about!"
"Fuck it, Josh, she was crazy about you."
"Shut up Zammo!" Josh threatened him.
Zammo sneered, "And what a fucking waste because here you are doing
everything you can to wriggle out of this mess."
Josh span away and went to the window before he could push forward and
drive a fist in Zammo's face. "Well look who brought us into this death
trap."
Zammo went quiet.
Josh turned round and saw him standing there stunned, tears streaming
silently down his cheeks. The sight cut him up inside. Josh bowed his
head and grimaced. "Ahh shit, I'm sorry."
Zammo nodded slowly, his wet eyes flashing in the late afternoon
light.
Josh wrapped his arms around his chest and hugged himself, thinking
fast, fighting off the guilt that Zammo had placed around his
shoulders. He became self-conscious of his own cowardliness and he
loathed himself for the feeling.
There was a period of no activity. Zammo and Josh stood there, trapped
within their own mental turmoil; faces pained.
Zammo broke the silence, "We have to try. We have to give it our best.
Carice deserves that from us. Not this."
Josh looked away, shame seeping into his cheeks.
Zammo continued, "If she's out there, hurt, soaked, she won't survive
the night. We need to find her."
"Okay." Josh held up his hands, not wanting to hear anymore. "We'll go
get the police."
Zammo's lips parted in a weak smile.
Josh bowed his head and rubbed at the back of his scalp; breathed out
hard, "God, I can't believe this is happening." He lifted his head and
cocked it to one side, indicating the window they had climbed through;
"Right, lets go then."
"I think I should stay here." Zammo said.
"Why?"
"What if she's making her way back right now, whilst we're gone,
imagine she gets to the house here and finds we've left."
Josh nodded once, "Right you are then. You stay here. I should be back
within an hour, a couple at most, depends how much bullshit I have to
go through to persuade the local constabulary or whatever they
are."
He walked over to the window and climbed out.

Josh checked his watch, then stretched and settled further into the
seat of the jeep. Another five minutes, he thought to himself, then he
would head back. Having driven from the house, Josh had continued along
the deserted single lane road for twenty minutes before pulling over to
park. He had been there for almost two hours. His mood was grim; he
resented Zammo for placing him into this no-win situation of guilt
versus survival. They could not call on the police. They could not risk
getting involved with an official investigation. Josh had a job to get
back to in England. He had a life and friends he wanted to get back to.
The US police would not view him or Zammo with sympathy. And the US
Government. Josh almost laughed. The FBI or whichever agency it was
that closed down the whole site, they would get involved and who knew
what would happen. Carice was dead: that's the risk base jumper's took.
These thoughts were like lumps of ice coated in grease being forced
down the back of his throat. They burned, chilled him to his heart and
make him sick.
The side of the road was dark but overhead, through the sun-sprinkled
canopy of trees the sky was a vibrant blue.
Carice.
Emotion stabbed him behind the eyes; an ache formed in his throat that
made him gasp. He gripped onto the steering wheel and gritted his
teeth. He kept seeing her in his head. Flashes of her eyes above her
broad smile, and the way she would look at him when she was pretending
to be annoyed.
Josh dug the palms of his hands into his eye sockets and pushed as
hard as he could, made a strangled sound of pain and frustration.
"Fuck this."
He started the jeep, pulled it round and drove back to the
house.
During the drive his mind focussed on what he would tell Zammo when he
returned without the police. He went through several scripts: the
police station was closed, the police did not cover the area of the
house, the police advised them not to mention this to anybody and just
get away, the police tried to arrest him so he ran for it and now they
have to leave.
By time he stopped on the broken ground in front of the house he
decided he would just tell Zammo straight. If Zammo refused to listen
to reason, then he would be forced to take more drastic measures.
Whatever it took, he had to get away from this nightmare with an
assurance that the police would not be called in. He would not allow
that to happen.
Popping open the door of the jeep, the silence struck him
immediately.
Josh paused, half-in, half-out from the vehicle, a frown forming on
his face, all of his senses abruptly charged with adrenaline. His gaze
went to the ridge, where the sun was dropping through the sky in a
blaze of rich golden light. The warmth of the light did nothing to
dispel the disturbing atmosphere that had descended. Part of his brain
rang an alarm and told him to run. Whatever this place was, it was
beyond anything he could understand but his primal instincts were
awakening. The single thought that flared across his mind was that this
place was ancient, and that it was Evil. Dazed by the strength of these
impressions he dropped down from the jeep and hurried to the back of
the vehicle. He took a car-iron from the jeep's toolkit and immediately
felt safer with it gripped in his hands.
"Zammo." He called through the window, where they had removed the
boards.
No response.
He shuddered involuntarily, his mind debating the choice of going
inside or running.
"Zammo!" He shouted as loud as he could this time and then immediately
regretted it; the noise seeming intrusive to whatever was taking
place.
What was taking place?
He kept the rising panic at bay and tried to dwell on rational
explanations: Zammo could have grown tired of waiting and gone to look
for Carice again. Or, Carice could have returned and they had left to
get help; no, he would have passed them on the road.
Then his brain registered something his eyes had seen seconds
earlier:
The interior of the room was soaking wet.
"What the hell?"
He leant through the open frame and looked around the room; there were
pools of water on the floor, droplets clinging from the ceiling and the
walls. Curiosity overcoming his earlier fear, Josh pulled himself up
and through the window. He strode across the drenched room into the
short hallway: and found the hallway in the same state. There was water
everywhere. And a smell! Josh paused, sniffing the air to be sure. The
smell was of the ocean, heavy with fish and brine.
"Zammo!"
Silence, although within the lack of sound was a sense of something
else.
He remembered what Zammo had read from the internet, about the German
family that had built the house.
Moving swiftly, keeping the car-iron ready as a weapon in his hand, he
moved through the deserted and recently water-logged rooms of the
ground floor until he found the stairs leading down to the
basement.
"Why is it always the basement?" He muttered, peering down into the
solid darkness.
He pulled a plastic lighter from his pocket, relieved to find it
worked, providing a strong flame with plenty of gas sloshing around
inside its transparent casing.
The stairs were of cut stone and dripping wet.
Reaching the bottom, Josh found himself in a large room that must have
occupied half of the structure's floor plan. A few metres from the base
of the stairs was a sight that nearly froze the blood in his veins: the
well shaft, which appeared to have once been heavily boarded up, now
stood open with the boards lying scattered on the floor amongst pools
of water. It looked as if something had come thundering up the well
shaft and smashed the boards out of the way. But what caused Josh so
much fright was the sight of one of Zammo's trainer's lying discarded
on the floor near to the shaft.
Josh moved cautiously over to the well shaft, crouched down and picked
up the shoe. It was perfectly dry. Oh my God. Josh felt himself
reeling. What the hell had happened here?
The sound of something large hitting water echoed up from the well
shaft. Josh nearly jumped out of his skin and audibly shouted in shock;
he dropped the shoe, turned and ran back up the stairs. The lighter
went out within his first stride but there was enough light coming down
from above for him to see where he was.
Leaving the basement, he continued running and made his way to the
window, where he threw himself more than climbed though.
Outside, the sunlight did nothing to dispel his panic. Something was
awfully wrong; something diabolical. He backed away from the house,
then began stepping sideways toward the front of the structure where
the jeep was parked, glancing in all directions.
A naked woman stood reclined against the side of the jeep.
Josh felt his scalp tighten across his skull. He stopped dead still.
She was looking right at him, large dark eyes smouldering in a pale
face, broad unusually wide lips that made her slightly unattractive.
There was a smile on her face, but it wasn't friendly. It was menacing.
The rest of her was slim and pale skinned with long black hair that
came down her shoulders. He noticed her hair was wet.
"Where are they?" He gripped the car-iron tightly in his fist, by the
side of his leg.
She pushed herself away from the jeep and began to slowly approach
him, her movements fluid and seductive.
Josh blinked rapidly, aware of a pressure building up against the back
of his skull. The orbs of her eyes seemed to hold a veil of darkness
close to the bony ridges of the sockets making it impossible to see any
whites. His mind raced ahead to what he was going to do: would he
attack her?
His heart began pounding as he sensed the close proximity of violence.
He lifted the car-iron in front of him; "Get back. Don't come any
closer!" He shouted.
She stopped, tilted her head to one side, her eyes never leaving
his.
Josh grimaced, the pressure against his skull increasing to the point
where he began to think he had an air bubble inside his brain. She
seemed to nod, imperceptibly, then lifted a foot and took a deliberate
pace forward. Josh wavered, indecision preventing him from making a run
for it and the pressure inside his head intruding his ability to think
clearly.
She took another pace forward. He noticed something about her feet and
tried to glance down at them, but it was as if his eyeballs had become
attached to his eyelids, they rolled and strained but would not look
away from the woman's gaze.
In the final moment he realised what was happening, too late; he made
a sound of animal fury, a last fight toward survival and tried to
charge at her with the car-iron. The pressure inside his skull burst in
a wave of warmth that enveloped his mind like a mother embracing a
young child; Josh felt his legs give way beneath him and he dropped to
his knees, his torso still upright, his face raised to look her in the
eyes. The car iron fell from his hand. Emotions coursed out of nowhere
and tugged at the muscles around his lips, cheeks and brow. Tears began
to run freely from his eyes as she stepped up to him and cupped her
hands behind his head.
The sunlight was a fiery red and painted her flesh as if her body were
fresh alabaster; fine green veins threaded their way across her. She
pulled his face gently into her belly, just above the triangle of her
pubic hair. Her skin was cold and oily and invaded his senses with an
overwhelming impression of the ocean. His eyes closed and the sun lit
the inner side of his eyelids with the colour of blood.
He heard the woman moan: a sound that came from deep within her.
Then she stepped back from him, her eyes locking firmly on his gaze;
he felt something tug within his brain and without any ability to stop
the process found himself pushing himself up onto his feet.
She slowly turned, stepping sideways and moving backward towards the
house and with each deliberate movement so Josh was compelled to
follow.
A loud gurgling and sloshing sound came from within the structure,
followed by the noise of splintering wood and nails popping out from
stonework. Abruptly, the boards covering the front entrance snapped or
fell away. Josh could not take his vision from her eyes but he caught
sight of the space within the open doorway rippling and reflecting
sunlight like the surface of a pool. A feeling of awful dread shocked
his mind; his legs worked against his control and woodenly carried him
forward, following the woman as she took careful backward paces toward
the entrance.
Then he saw what filled the doorway. Water. A solid surface as though
the entire house had been flooded to the brim. The woman took another
backward step and sank into the liquid so that he suddenly found her
eyes boring into him from beneath the surface.
Every vein swelled to bursting point as he strained to fight the hold
upon him, but his struggles were in vain. He walked up to the doorway
and then through it; except he did not touch the water. Instead, the
surface of water curved and shifted away from him as he neared it. He
heard a gurgling rush of escaping air as the solid body of fluid rolled
around behind him to seal him within a bubble. The floor suddenly
became like jelly as the fluid expanded beneath his feet; he was flung
backwards and landed against the surface of the capsule. It was wet,
but it held his weight.
Abruptly, the hold on his brain was gone. In a wild panic he threw
himself back onto his feet and remained there, stooped over within the
small capsule of air. The woman floated freely within the water a few
metres away from him. Sunlight washed in through the open doorway and
lit up her features; he black hair drifted around her head.
She kicked her feet, which he now saw were webbed, and turned. She
began swimming down the short passage, her mane of her trailing behind
her. He was thrown off his feet again as his capsule surged forward
after her. He scrabbled round on his hands and knees to look behind him
and saw that the water - or whatever it was that resembled water -
drained from the house in their wake.
"No! No-no-no-no!" He cried out when he realised the direction they
were heading. With a sharp twist of her body she doubled round and dove
down through the stairwell leading down into the basement. The noise of
the water gushing and scraping the sides of the stairwell nearly
deafened him and drowned out his screaming. Everything went black as
the natural light was cut off. He felt his forward movement and then
the sudden, sickening downward plunge, which he guessed, was the well
shaft.
The darkness appeared to last for an eternity. Onwards, deeper and
further into unplumbed depths and regions of subterranean
waterways.
Gradually, a light began to penetrate the inky blackness.
At first his spirits soared, believing the light to be the surface;
but after a few moments he sank back into horror when the sickly colour
of the light repulsed his senses.
The light emanated from some form of underwater bioluminescence and
helped to highlight the incredible surroundings they had entered. Josh
could see the lithe form of the woman swimming powerfully ahead of
them, and could picture himself within a mass of living water surging
after her. They were at the site of some once great temple. Vast slabs
of elaborately carved stone hung suspended between cyclopean
proportions. The scale of the place was immense, and Josh momentarily
forgot his own horror to marvel at the extraordinary architecture.
Massive structures of stone jutted from the darkness, carved with
bundles of curved and twisting tentacles and adorned with figures of an
image Josh could never have imagined in his worst nightmares.
Then, without warning, his capsule came to rest. Josh strained to see
what he had landed on; it appeared to be a hall of incredible
proportions. The floor was jet black and smooth, polished almost to the
gleam of a mirror. The sickly light shimmered and reflected off its
surface to match the movement of whatever thing had him held within
it.
The woman sank down to the floor not far from him, slowly flicking her
arms to glide to a graceful landing. There was an air of reverence
about her behaviour; she lowered her head and curious symbols with her
fingers. Josh caught sight of movement reflected in the smooth floor's
surface; his eyes glanced at it then locked onto the image as a gasp of
disbelief slipped from his lips. He whirled round and saw what had been
reflected in the floor.
Carice, and Zammo, looking back at him, trapped within identical
bubbles of air that were in turn held within a mass of something almost
invisible, not much larger than the bubble of air itself; jelly-like
tendrils drifting on the deep currents.
Tiny bubbles of air were drifting in a steady stream from the top of
the creatures and Josh realised that somehow they were filtering away
the poisonous build up of carbon dioxide.
Carice looked awful; her mouth opened and closed as she shouted
something, then her eyes screwed up, the corners of her mouth turned
down and she shook her head, sobbing.
Then Josh saw what had already shocked Carice and Zammo nearly out of
their minds. Josh let out a high pitch wail of denial as a terror
beyond anything he had known before clamped around him. There were
other bubble-like cells on the floor of the vast hall, and their
occupants clearly demonstrated the gruesome fate that awaited him, and
his two friends.
Inside these other cells were the decomposing bodies of the other
people who had been foolish enough to violate the region of Devil's
Spring.

END