“It’s okay. I’m not overjoyed to see more messages, either.” He handed me his flashlight. “Hang on to this until I get back.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m taking a leap of faith.”
And he jumped into the black water and disappeared.
“No!” I yelled. “Diesel!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I had a white-knuckle grip on the flashlight, scanning the water’s surface. A minute passed. Two minutes. I was pacing the pool’s edge, looking for a sign that Diesel was moving around. A tear trickled down my cheek, and I bit my lip to keep from sobbing.
“If anyone’s listening,” I whispered, “please don’t let him drown.”
I thought I saw a ripple, and then Diesel popped his head out in an explosion of water. He swam to the side and hoisted himself out.
“There’s an underwater tunnel about ten feet down,” he said. “The tunnel itself isn’t real long. Maybe twenty feet. It opens into another grotto. And there’s a passage going out of that grotto. I didn’t get to explore the passage. You’re going to have to leave the flashlight here. It’s not waterproof. It’ll be useless on the other side.”
“I don’t know if I can hold my breath long enough.”
“You absolutely can. It’s not that far. I know exactly where the tunnel starts. We’re going to swim over to it, and I’m going to guide you in and push you from behind. Don’t kick. Just let me push.”
“Oh boy.”
“It’s not so bad. It’s like Indiana Jones. Remember how that big boulder was coming at him in Raiders of the Lost Ark? This is a snap compared to that.”
I eased myself into the water with Diesel supporting me.
“It’s cold,” I said.
“Only at first. You’ll get used to it.”
We scooted around the edge of the pool until Diesel said we were above the start to the tunnel.
I held my breath, and Diesel pulled me down and pushed my head into the opening. I put my arms out straight, and Diesel propelled us through the passage and kicked us up to the surface.
We climbed out and stood there, dripping wet and taking deep breaths. It was pitch-black, and I couldn’t see anything.
“Can you see in the dark?” I asked him.
“Yes. Can you?”
“No. Not even a little.”
“Hang on to me, and I’ll get us out of here.”
The passage was high enough that I didn’t have to stoop, and wide enough that my shoulders weren’t constantly hitting the sides. My shoes were squishing water, but it was better than walking barefoot. We made a turn, and I saw light ahead. A few more steps and the light was brighter. We took another turn and stepped into a large, domed room. And Hatchet was there. He was sitting on the floor with a lump and a gash on his forehead, looking damp and dejected, surrounded by rats.
I felt myself go rigid with anger, and I glared at Hatchet. “You sick son of a . . .”
Diesel wrapped an arm around me and walked me back into the passage a couple feet.
“Go easy,” Diesel said. “We need him to talk to us.”
“He hurt Glo.”
“I know, but we want him to tell us things.”