Revocare

By Leslie Fish

Betrayed by their lover and best friend, a cave climber is cast deep into a nightmarish land beneath the caverns. Can the will to survive win against the elements and hellish creatures until an escape can be found?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leslie Fish
• Release date: Apr 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781944322069

Leslie Fish

Born in New Jersey, 11 March 19-something, to a mundane dentist father and singer mother Leslie Fish is a filk musician, author, and anarchist political activist. Her music can be found at www.random-factors.com. You can also find more about her by visiting lesliefish.com.

Book preview

Revocare

Leslie Fish

Fish, Leslie

Revocare

Published by the Writers of the Apocalypse

1117 N Carbon Street, PMB 208

Marion, Illinois 62959

http://www.apocalypsewriters.com

For more information on Leslie Fish, visit www.lesliefish.com

Second edition

ISBN: 978-1-944322-06-9

(License notes) ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. Cover design by Katrina Joyner, premadecovers4u.com.

Revocare

Facilis est descensus Averno...

Sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad auras,

Hoc opus, hic labor est.

—Virgil, The Aeneid

Langspur Caverns are no deeper than treachery, as I found to my cost. It was a classic triangle -- my money, my best friend, my supposedly-loving spouse -- and I suspected nothing. I thought a weekend spent cave-climbing would be fun for all three of us; after all, I’d first met Lee at the Cavers’ Club, and Jan often said she was willing to try anything once. I had no idea that there was anything more than friendship between them, or how far they were willing to go to have each other and my money too.

I trusted them completely, right up to the instant they cut my rope.

We were crossing the Johnson Chasm, usually called Bottomless Bend: Lee ahead, Jan in the middle, me on the end. The other two crossed and waved me on, so I fixed my line to the piton-ring and started across, concentrating on placing hand over hand, watching the rope. My only warning was that the beam from Lee’s helmet-lamp jiggled -- and I never imagined that it was from the motion of his arm as he sawed his knife through my line.

The very next thing I knew was that the rope had gone slack in my hands, and I was surrounded by rushing wind and darkness. I realized what was happening just in time to throw my head back and look up.

There I saw the fast-disappearing edge of the chasm with two helmeted heads peering over it, smiling like hell as they watched me go down. The only yell of surprise and shock was my own.

Then the smooth wall of