Spy Games Ch. 15

The tunnel was approximately three feet wide and maybe two and a half feet tall. Sufficient room for a low crawl but not enough room for me to turn around. Which meant I would have to crawl backwards for fifteen feet to the more spacious vertical hole under the shack.

Once in the stale air of the narrow tunnel, Miss Moorehead took the hint and kept her mouth shut.

"Are you able to crawl?" I asked her.

She shook her head in the affirmative and followed me down the narrow corridor of dirt, rocks and roots.

The mind does funny things when in extremis situations. Crawling backwards is not easy. I was probably working twice as hard to go half as fast as Miss Moorehead... who was crawling forwards. So, what was I thinking about as I plodded at a snail's pace down the dark, dirt tunnel? Was I worried about the two of us suffocating in the stale air? Was I planning my revenge on those that were responsible for our plight? Was my mind occupied by the larger mission and the risks that lay ahead of us?

No, to all three possibilities.

Despite everything going on in my life at that exact moment, I flashed back to something Mrs. Bancroft told me the first day we met.

"Don't gawk at a woman's breasts. Look her in the eyes."

Which was damn near impossible in my current situation. I was crawling backwards on my elbows and belly while, just a few feet in front of me, was a completely naked, well-endowed woman crawling towards me. All I could see was blonde hair and boobs, spotlighted by the battery powered lamp strapped to my baseball cap. Her breasts swayed rhythmically left and right as we progressed down the narrow dirt passageway towards the shack. Her nipples dangled dangerously close to the coarse earthen floor. When I tried to look past Miss Moorehead's dancing cleavage, I caught a glimpse of her well-shaped ass and decided to refocus on her boobs.

As I slowly backed out of the tunnel, unable to keep my eyes off Miss Moorehead's tantalizing tits, I wondered... once she realized I was ultimately responsible for her being raped and buried alive... would she ever let me touch them again.

The vertical shaft under the dilapidated shed was large enough for two people to stand comfortably. As soon as she got to her feet, Miss Moorehead threw her arms around me and held tight as tears streamed from her eyes.

"What did I do wrong?" she pleaded. "What did I do to deserve... They were talking about blackmail. And Raven was there... Please help me, Mark. Help me understand what happening to me. Why did they do what they did?"

"I will. I promise to tell you everything. But not here. We need to get you somewhere safe."

The vertical shaft was just over six feet deep. I used a five-foot wooden ladder to climb out of the shaft, pushing the trap door aside as I ascended. Once out of the shaft, I poked my head out of the hole that used to hold the shack's door and, convinced nobody else was around, helped Miss Moorehead up the ladder.

Not expecting to rescue a completely naked damsel in distress, I didn't bring any extra clothes. I gave Miss Moorehead my shirt and went to fetch my car which was hidden behind a stand of trees, several hundred yards from the grave site.

"Stay here," I told her. "I'll be right back with my car."

"Why can't I go with you?" she asked.

"You don't have any shoes."

"Can't you carry me?"

"I guess I could, but it will be a lot easier and faster if you let me go by myself."

"What if they come back while you're away? What if the mayor or the city council or Raven Hardwood... what if they all come back here to make sure I'm really dead?"

"They won't. I promise."

"Just like you promised nothing bad would happen to me this morning?"

I was about to rebut that last statement but, realizing this was the wrong time for an argument, I picked her up in my arms and carried her across the deserted pasture.