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Showing posts with label Anna Pigeon Mysteries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anna Pigeon Mysteries. Show all posts
Anna could see her own exhaustion and elation mirrored in the faces of the others; a dance, a symphony, a poem of human effort and mind. The first hint that something had gone wrong was the call “Rock!” carried down the black canyon on a gust of fear.
Did you know that each touch from a human hand on the cave's interior will be a problem? Pieces may be totally destroyed by humans who are visiting with no thought but of their pleasure in seeing these beautiful examples of God's creations...In Barr's book we all learn that each move to be made must be in consideration of the place in which they are rather than just...living...as best as you can... In this case, the book was very informative re spelunking... Remember, they were moving into areas which had never been explored before, but the videos do illustrate the equipment needed to be worn to provide light in the Dark as you will be reading...
The search was intensive to get there, where Frieda was, but now, Anna, with the mind of a police office, albeit in the Rangers, had to be immediately aware that one or more of the people in Frieda's group had caused the fall of her friend... She began to gather info just by introducing herself to the few there... There was a doctor and his wife--a woman who was clearly a problem. She didn't want to be there, was disgusted that her husband had to be doctoring--well, he wasn't a true general practitioner, but at least he knew enough to provide medication, medical supplies. But it was clear his wife could care less about anything but getting out of there... It should be mentioned at this point that she actually disappeared and could not be found once outside... Anna could not let that go, as the book goes on... The wife had been asked to backup Anna "as a caretaker" and clearly that wasn't going to happen... This begins the mystery part of the book...
Anna found herself depending on one of her initial guides, who was now the onsite director of planning for the rescue... Somehow, she felt safer with him around... He was efficient and soon had everybody working to move out... They were waiting for the medical team who had the necessary equipment to carry Frieda out... People were beginning to look happy, excited, ready to leave this Dark that had kept them longer than originally planned...
And, Anna was right there by Frieda's side when the crew had arrived, prepared her for traveling in a secured manner and went through details with the Site Director... They were ready to go!
They were moving quickly and efficiently, when out of the surrounding darkness: Rock!
When Anna heard the call of a rock coming, she didn't know how fast it would become a slide that would overtake the entire group carrying Freida... After the slide settled, Anna tried to reconnect with Freida... She had fallen deeper into a hole...Anna could not reach her, but could touch her, checking her neck to find a pulse... feeling something wet, she thought it was blood and Freida was bleeding. She pulled her hand out and discovered it was her tears...
The rescue had become a recovery...
But Anna would not leave the site... She began searching, to learn where the Rock had come from. She began her search there, looking for anything that would help to document just how a slide had begun... finally, she found it--a place where somebody had sat on a rock, as if resting...or waiting...
Anna was now conducting a murder investigation...
It didn't take me long to determine the "whodunit." It seems I can recognize the character personalities that are created to reveal those who are power hungry... But there was another that I would not have picked. This, too, reflects what we are experiencing more and more... Who could Anna trust?
The ending surprised me, because there was so little to lead up to the actual crimes taking place. Readers will need to step back from the rescue efforts and its failure and move into investigation mode along with Anna, who became relentless. Even to the extent of talking one of the men in the original group into returning to the cave to find as much of actually what happened as possible. In the book, and I hope, not in reality, there is a major loss of a section of the cave that could not be reclaimed... And they found a lost member of the team...
One of the most fantastic, informative books about spelunking that perhaps has been written wrapped up in fiction. It is the only one I've read and who better than Nevada Barr to take on creating a thrilling story of a place where no man had ever been before... And, just how destructive people can become when riches beckon to those who place money over humanity... A Must-Read for many reasons, most of all to allow readers to experience some place where they really have a right to be afraid and be thankful there are others who will attempt to ensure you live through that experience! More people need to rely on their neighbors and find love and help from nearly all of them...
Anna could see that a thin drizzle had started. Cold, gray, winter rain, falling on concrete. Soft, lifeless rain. Ray Bradbury rain.
I'm past the time when horror in books or movies phase me... But, this book? I was holding my breath in many scenes... I was amazed that this story was based upon a real location... I was impressed with how she chose to write this book--essentially in two parts--the horror of this cave as an individual lost there in uncharted territory... and the mystery of death there... Her writing told exactly what was there, true, but the way she told it, readers will actually feel Anna's fear as she faces a totally new experience that she has never faced before... And if you've read other books by this Federal Ranger, you will know that she has faced many dangers during her professional career... Without fear...
But this location was some place she didn't want to be. First she was claustrophobic. And she had a fear of being underground... But you would never know about these fears except through revelation by the writer as she shares how she experiences them, without letting other people know... I have to say that this female character is one of the most badass heroines I've ever met through a books...
First, I've had the wonderful opportunity to visit nearby Laurel Caverns in Pennsylvania... It was an exciting day for me, I had already, for the first time ever, gone down the rapids of a nearby river which was so exciting! But then headed over to the caverns. I'd never seen anything so beautiful, realizing they were naturally made... The key difference, though, that you should know is that the part where the spelunkers are visiting the undeveloped part of the cave that is shown in these videos. They have lights, guide ropes, a guide with you as you go through, and, in general, are completely safe... and free of all potential problems.
Very few people had ever even seen the part of the cave where Anna will be going... She had been especially requested by a coworker to come. She had been hurt in a fall and would have to be taken out for medical help, even though a doctor was part of the small group touring at that time. She was happy to come when they had put out the call for emergency help and was first assigned to a desk to control traffic, etc. It was only after she had agreed to help that the site director told her why she was there--at request of the injured woman they needed to rescue...
Anna mocked herself for feeling like a woman in a tumbrel, jouncing through her last glorious moments toward the guillotine and the vast unknown. Still, she rather wished the day had closed without this final hurrah of heavenly fireworks. A sunless world would have been that much easier to leave behind. After too short a ride, the pickup pulled off the rutted dirt road into a wilderness parking lot incongruously marked off with concrete curbs. Anna’d been too engrossed in morbid imaginings to recollect the twists and turns they’d made through the wrinkled landscape, but she guessed they were only three or four miles from the headquarters buildings. The discovery of Lechuguilla in the backyard had put Carlsbad Caverns National Park in the odd position of having doubled in size overnight. Oscar had likened the experience to “finding Yellowstone in your basement.” Holden Tillman opened the tailgate, and the three of them divided up the gear. As they started the hike to the mouth of Lechuguilla, Oscar filled Anna in on the team briefing. Holden Tillman was officially titled Underground Rescue Coordinator. He was in charge of all activities subterranean. The NPS had borrowed him from the local Bureau of Land Management office because of his expertise in caves and cave rescues. Oscar assured Anna he was, in caving circles, known as the Holden Tillman. A quiet person with an aw-shucks drawl, Tillman seemed half embarrassed and half amused by Oscar’s effusions. “Oscar’s going to write my eulogy,” he told Anna, a slow smile blooming beneath a brown brush of mustache. “He just wants to get some practicing in before I’m dead.” Anna liked Holden right off. She hoped nothing happened to change that. Experience taught her her first impression of people was dead wrong as often as not. This time she had a gut feeling it wasn’t. Tillman was of an age with Iverson—in his forties—but there the resemblance ended. He was a small man, maybe five-foot-eight and a hundred thirty pounds with skin that looked shrunk to fit a wiry, muscled frame. Crow’s-feet radiated from the corners of his eyes to curve down in unbroken lines along the sides of his face. His forehead, wide and slightly sloping, was cut by horizontal lines as sharp as old scars. The effect of this network of time was a wizened soul, blessed with wisdom and, possibly, “the sight.” At least that was the fanciful image that floated up from an old fairy-tale illustration buried in Anna’s memory. Despite narrow shoulders and small frame, Holden carried a prodigious amount of equipment. Though half a foot shorter than Oscar, arms and shoulders were corded with muscle where Iverson’s were mapped in bone. Anna guessed his pack was seventy or eighty pounds but it didn’t bow his back or take the spring from his step. As he walked ahead of her along the trail Anna heard sotto-voce snatches of song. She laughed. Holden sang the digging song Snow White’s Seven Dwarfs sang on their way down into the mine. Anna saw the cavern sparkling with a million lights and peopled with benevolent spirits. Despite herself she felt better than she had since Iverson had brought her the news of Frieda’s head injury. Holden and Oscar, along with CACA’s superintendent and the chief of resource management for the caverns, had organized a four-person team that would follow the two men Anna was with. The second team would carry a stretcher for the evacuation, medical supplies Dr. McCarty had requested, and a Korean War-vintage field phone with spools of wire so Holden would have telephone communications with the surface during the carry-out. The logistics were staggering, and Anna was duly impressed that the details had been hammered out in such a short time. There were people for every aspect of the rescue: cavers who would do nothing but rig the drops for hauling Frieda up the long vertical and near-vertical ascents; cavers to schlep water, packs, garbage, batteries, and food. Anna listened to the plans being rehashed by Holden and Oscar as they walked single file along a ridge above a dry creek bed, and she began to wonder what would undo her first: her fear of enclosed spaces or her fear of crowds. The sheer absurdity freed her mind, and for a time she was able to shut out the human murmurings and enjoy the hike. They were on a plateau to the north of the gypsum plains that spread down into Texas. What vegetation managed to eke out a livelihood from the parched soil kept a low profile. Little had grown to greater than knee height, and there were barren spaces between plants. With the lifting of the clouds and the dazzling clarity of the rain-washed air, Anna could see to the edge of the world, or so it seemed, and the world was all high, clean desert, burnished with gold. Even knowing she walked over limestone honey-combed with passages, she couldn’t imagine a less likely place to find the entrance to a world-class cave. She pictured the plateau cut into thin sections and placed between sheets of glass like the ant farms she’d seen as a child. Beneath her feet, creeping through those twisting tunnels, were human beings. “There it is.” Oscar interrupted her musings. They’d walked down a slope and crossed the stone bottom of a wash to climb again. Ahead of them was more of the same: low hills dotted with desert shrubs and cactus. “See that green spot?” Iverson pointed to a cluster of stunted trees poking from a fold in the hills. “That’s it.” Anna took his word for it. Within a few minutes they’d reached the trees, and still she was none the wiser. Not until they climbed down four or five feet to where the oak trees had found soil to root could she see the entrance. Back in the rocks an opening maybe twenty feet wide, thirty long, and ringed by heavy overhanging brows of rock, showed darkly. Over the years Anna had made any number of rappels from ten to two hundred ten feet. After the first step, she’d thoroughly enjoyed the trip. Suspended like a cliff swallow over lakes in the Absaroka Beartooth, dangling above a sea of dusty live oaks in northern California. There was an above and a below. Here, she noted with an unpleasant tingle, there was neither. In the theatrical light of coming evening, the entrance to Lechuguilla looked like a portal, one lacking the standard three dimensions agreed upon by the real world. She’d read of holes described as yawning, gaping, hungry—words that suggested an orifice, an appetite. The sixty-foot drop leading into Lech didn’t fit any of those adjectives. Rather than sentience, it suggested a departure from life. The last rays of the sun skimmed its surface, lighting the stone for fifteen feet or so. Below that, nothing. Night took all. “Hi ho,” Holden said happily. Iverson began checking ropes secured to bolts near a tree that showed scarring from when it had been used as an anchor in previous descents. “The climbs are all rigged. We leave them that way along the main trade routes—established routes through the cave. We’ve found it does a lot less damage to the resource to leave the rigging in place than having every expedition rerig each time.” “Me first, you last?” he said to Holden as he threaded the rope through his rappel rack. Holden nodded. Oscar leaned back and walked, spider-like, from sight. The sun slid below the horizon, and Anna felt suddenly cold. “It’s getting dark,” she said, and hoped Tillman hadn’t heard the faint whine beneath her words. “So?” “Off-rope,” drifted up from the black hole. “Good point,” Anna said, threaded the rope through her rack, pulled on her leather gloves, and unhooked the safety. “On-rope,” she shouted down, and stepped back into the darkness.
~~~~
Prepare to shudder... For in the early stages, there had been some preliminary mapping and work by teams to prepare for easier access at a later time. Much later. Soon Anna began to feel like she was buried and soon realized that there is absolutely NO light underground... And, given the type of cave that had been lost for so long--nobody knew how long--it soon hit her that there were no small cracks that allowed some bits of light where they were walking. Only blackness! Nor were there any living life that we all know on the surface or even in other caves--bugs, sounds of birds, bats moving. Nothing could live in this cave...
It wasn't long before they were in uncharted territory. That meant that the two guides/leaders had to install climbing equipment and teach Anna how to use it. Fortunately she had rappelled down rocks so was quite prepared for that task. What she was to come to dread was having to crawl through spaces with only the head light revealing what was right before her. Often, the threesome had to break up, using ropes to climb up or down, and then holding the ropes to expedite the next individual. Anna, thankfully, was placed in the middle of the experts... She felt safe--except from her own fears of being in extremely tight spaces... Oh, and just a little tidbit...because of the fragility of the environment, no human wastes were left behind, including human waste... which had to be properly packaged, depending on the type of waste it was... Yikes!
In fact, it was during a bathroom break that Frieda, a secretary at Anna's base of operations, had fallen... and now with various injuries including a possible head concussion. When the threesome finally found the location where the spelunker group was resting and waiting, Anna was quickly taken to let Frieda know that her friend was there... Frieda was still confused and dealing with the pain, but she recognized Anna, tightly held her hand and said to Anna, "It wasn't an accident..." Later, Anna saw that Freda would go in and out of full consciousness.
And, Anna found that Frieda didn't seem to remember what she had told her. However, since Anna was already a Ranger law officer, she was, thankfully, immediately on alert, knowing that this group of people could possibly have caused the accident... And, later, her murder... I'll talk about that more in the next part, coming soon...
It could be argued that the open areas of the caverns felt as much like a Disney creation as Space Mountain. There were no dangerous mazes, no precipitous heights, no tight squeezes. Still, it was a cave, and so Anna had passed on repeat trips. Given the inevitable nature of things, she would spend much of eternity underground; no sense rushing on down before the grim reaper called for her.
Her love of bats might have overcome her fear of enclosed spaces, but if one waited, the splendid little creatures were good enough to come out and be enjoyed in less stygian realms. This December she had been sent to CACA from her home park in Mesa Verde, Colorado. Trained teams consisting of park rangers from all over the region responded to catastrophes that ranged from hurricanes to presidential visits.
This time it was the injury of a caver. Had the caver been hurt in Carlsbad Cavern, extrication would have been simple: pop her in a wheelchair, roll her down to the snack bar and onto the elevator. She’d have been home before her mother knew she was missing. But this caver had been injured in Lechuguilla. The cave was on NPS lands near CACA’s headquarters. Lechuguilla was closed to the general public for the protection of both the cave and the visitors. Nearly ninety miles of the cave had been explored but it would be many years before it was fully mapped. Lech was a monster man-eating cave, dangerous to get into and harder to get out of. Two days into Lechuguilla, a member of the survey team had been hurt in an accident. Not surprisingly there’d been a contingent of experienced cavers at Carlsbad at the time, a small but dedicated group given to squeezing themselves into dark holes and living to write home about it.
Before Anna and her teammates had descended on the park, the cavers had begun doing what they did best: getting one of their own back. Procedures in place from the last, well-publicized rescue from Lechuguilla, in 1991, the NPS had mobilized in record time. Within four hours of the report, Anna had been on a plane to El Paso. By the time she reached Carlsbad more than two dozen others from the southwestern region had arrived. With the overhead team came the inevitable Porta-Johns, food trucks, and power struggles. On duty less than three hours, Anna was happy to sit out the political squabbles in Oscar Iverson’s snug little office. There, far from the madding crowd, she manned the phones in her official capacity as information officer, doling out approved statements to a press already panting for another media glut like that generated by the Baby Jessica case in Texas. When she was eight hundred feet below the surface of the earth and two days’ travel from the light of day, a grown woman in a limestone cave was almost as good as a baby in a well shaft.
For the past half hour reporters had been getting short shrift. Anna was reading. By chance she’d picked Trapped!, the story of caver Floyd Collins, off Iverson’s shelves. It detailed the gruesome death and media circus surrounding the entrapment of a caver in the 1920s. Collins had become wedged in a tight passage; his attempts to wriggle free had brought down loose dirt and rock, entombing him from neck to heels, his arms pinned at his sides. For thirteen days, friends had made the dangerous descent to feed him, while up above concessionaires sold food and souvenirs to an ever-growing crowd of vultures gathered in curiosity, sympathy, and morbidity. On the fourteenth day rains so softened the earth that the access tunnel collapsed. Collins was left to die alone. Scrawled in the margin of the book were the words “fact: wedge victims die.” Transfixed by the same dread a woman in a stranded VW might feel watching a logging truck bearing down on her, Anna was glued to the book. Iverson, Carlsbad’s cave specialist, gusted into her sanctuary, and she dropped Trapped!, glad to be rescued from its bleak pages. He waved her back into his ergonomically correct office chair and folded himself haphazardly over the corner of the desk. Housed in an old stone building built in the 1920s, the office was small, crowded by two desks, the walls lined with metal shelving and stuffed with books. Sprawled over the cluttered desktop, Oscar looked as homey and leggy as a spider in his web. Long limbs poked out the fabric of his trousers at knee and hip. His arms, seeming to bend in several places along their bony length, were stacked like sticks on his thighs. Come Halloween it would take only a little white paint to pass him off as a respectable skeleton. A mummy of the sere and unwrapped variety would be even easier. The man looked made of leather, hide tanned by the desert, hair coarse and straw-colored from the sun.
Anna guessed he was close to her age, maybe forty-five or -six. “Got some bizarre news,” he said, banging his heel softly against the metal of the desk. For whom the bell tolls, Anna’s mind translated the hollow ringing. “Now that the relatives have been notified we can release the name of the injured woman. Frieda Dierkz. And she’s asking for one Anna Pigeon.” Shit, Anna thought. It tolls for me. “Frieda?” she echoed stupidly. Iverson shot her a startled look. “Don’t you know her? From the intensity of the summons, I got the idea you two were best buds.” “Buds.” Anna’s mind was paralyzed, not so much by shock as by incongruity. Hearing Frieda’s name in reference to the victim of the rescue was akin to running into one’s old grammar school teacher in an opium den. “She’s the dispatcher at Mesa Verde,” Anna managed. “We’re . . . friends.” They were friends, fairly close friends, and Anna wondered why she’d sounded so half-hearted. “Dierkz was on the survey team,” Oscar said patiently, his washed-out hazel eyes trying to read Anna’s face. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation. Most cavers led other lives. They were geologists and physicists, beekeepers and bums; regular folks who had been bitten by an irregular bug that compelled them to creep beneath the skin of the world every chance they got. Anna had seen the photos of a helmeted and mud-bedaubed Frieda grinning out from nasty little crevices Anna wouldn’t go into for love or money, and she’d listened with half an ear about her upcoming “vacation.” She’d just not put two and two together. “What does she want me for?” Without much caring, Anna noted the disapproval sharpening Iverson’s gaze. She could guess where it came from: cavers helped cavers. It was an unwritten law of survival. Who else was going to fish them out of the god-awful places they insisted on pushing their way into? Iverson stared, and Anna stared back, refusing to apologize or explain. A moment passed, and his look softened. Perhaps he reminded himself she was not a caver but a mere mortal. “The injury is worse than first thought.” He spoke slowly as if Anna had a learning disability. His voice was low, gentling. She would have been irritated at the condescension had she not known Iverson always talked that way. “The caver who hiked out said a broken leg. Painful but not life-threatening. Apparently the rock that smashed her kneecap struck a glancing blow to her left temple as it fell. She was knocked unconscious but only briefly. We just got a second report. It was brought out by a member of another team surveying in the Great Beyond. He met up with one of Dierkz’s team in Windy City and brought out a message. She’s been slipping in and out of consciousness and has suffered some disorientation.” “Head injury,” Anna said. “Bad news.” “Bad news,” Iverson agreed. “Peter McCarty, a member of Dierkz’s team, is an M.D. in real life. That’s the good news. She’s got a doctor with her. McCarty recommended we get Ms. Dierkz what she wants. She’s agitated, and it is not helping her medical condition any. He feels it would soothe her if she could have a friend there.”
“A lady-in-waiting?” “Exactly.” A chilling image filled Anna’s mind: herself crouched and whimpering, fear pouring like poison through her limbs, shutting down her brain as the cave closed in around her. Adrenaline spurted into her bloodstream, and she could feel the numbness in her fingertips and a tingling as of ice water drizzling on her scalp. To hide her thoughts she rubbed her face. “Will you go?” Iverson asked.
Anna scrubbed the crawling sensation from her hair with her knuckles. “Just deciding what to wear.” Oscar looked at her shrewdly, the long, narrow eyes turning the color of bleached lichen. “Let me rephrase that: can you?” “I don’t know,” Anna answered truthfully. “Can I?” “Caving?” “None.” “Climbing?” “Some.” “Rappels sixty to a hundred fifty feet. Ascents ditto, naturally. Rope climbs with ascenders.” “I can do that.”
~~~~
I ran my Fire battery out for 3 days... Don't know how many days I'll take to share with all of you! LOL Watch for it!
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